bill8849

[callingcxrd]

Man I love Earl Grey Cookie I wish tea was real

!! Please do not tag as kin or F/O! Thank you for your understanding!

[heliads]

Back again!!

This time, could I pretty please request by most beloved pilot Natasha Trace with a female reader? The reader is also a pilot with the Dagger Squad, and she and Phoenix are already dating. Reader is always super sweet and cheerful and friendly, so her callsign is Sunshine, and nobody in the Dagger Squad including Nat has ever seen her get angry, but one night when the Squad’s at the Hard Deck, Sunshine hears some guys talking crap about her friends and goes off on them, shouting and cursing them out in front of everyone, while the Daggers just watched with dropped jaws and Phoenix has the world’s biggest gear eyes and gives her girlfriend a big kiss once Penny throws the guys out.

Hopefully this wasn’t too much, I kind of went on a ramble (😅). Thanks so much in advance, and I hope you’re doing well, my beloved!! 🖤

'sunshine storms over' - natasha 'phoenix' trace

masterlist

According to the well-known and well-cursed laws of physics, an object, once in motion, will remain in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. Similarly, in the hallowed halls of Top Gun, a pilot will remain in their plane or briefings unless they receive a suitably alluring reason to leave. The reason doesn’t even have to be good half the time. Sometimes, the reason can be something as simple as drinks half price at the Hard Deck, and then every damn pilot in the whole place will suddenly find themselves leaving as quickly as they can.

Natasha Trace enjoys physics a normal amount, but she can certainly attest to its relations to drinks-happy fighter pilots. It’s been a long week, as most at Top Gun often are, so everyone’s more than eager to leave. She swears she’s caught Rooster falling asleep during long meetings at least twice already, even despite him pledging early this Monday morning that he’d be totally focused from then on out.

In his defense, the warm rooms of the lecture halls combined with the lights off is an equation for disaster. The projected flight plans aren’t quite bright enough to keep the pilots awake, and when they’ve been locked in one of those rooms for a couple of hours into the late afternoon– well, Natasha herself has been at risk for nodding off, so maybe she can’t judge too harshly, either.

Unlike Rooster, though, Natasha’s got a pretty good reason to stay awake. Pretty and good are also two remarkable attributes of this lovely, lovely distraction that Natasha is fortunate enough to call her girlfriend. When Nat was called back to Top Gun for the first of many top secret missions, she expected to find herself subjected to difficult flight conditions, extreme danger, and plenty of risky maneuvers. She certainly didn’t expect to get a girlfriend out of the bargain a month or two later, but she’s not going to complain.

Certainly not when her girlfriend is Y/N L/N. Nat has felt the blow of being a female pilot in a room of men far too many times to count, so when she walked in on her first day and saw Y/N already there, Nat had known that she was going to be alright. As time went on, Y/N had steadily grown on her, and then Natasha had come to realize that she wasn’t just grateful for the other woman’s friendship, she wanted something more, something like love, which Y/N was all too happy to give.

It’s a little self-serving to call your current relationship a power couple, but for once, Nat is pretty sure that the other pilots would agree with her. She and Y/N are the top scorers on the various training scenarios every single time. If you’re going to check a results sheet, odds are you’ll see Phoenix and Sunshine in the best slots. Rooster and Hangman always say that they’re the best, but the names never lie.

Usually, that kind of relentless domination would irk the other pilots, but Natasha and Y/N are friends with all of them, so that takes the edge off a little. Besides, it’s basically impossible to hate Y/N. Her callsign, Sunshine, is probably the most deserved nickname a pilot has ever been given in Top Gun history. Y/N’s all smiles even on the longest and most tedious days. She’ll be beaming ear to ear when she shoots you out of the sky, or when you play the piano for her at the Hard Deck. Both are fine by her.

During the first few hours of Natasha’s return to Top Gun, she was disheartened to see so many of the other pilots brushing off Y/N’s skills due to her bubbly personality. It’s not as if every great pilot has to be completely coldhearted, but apparently it was just too much to comprehend that someone could be nice and capable at the same time. Certainly Hangman seems to believe it still, but that’s beside the point.

Natasha had been ready to defend Y/N from the very first moment, but, as it turned out, she hadn’t needed to. Y/N got in her plane and outstripped all of them by a long shot. She even had Maverick complimenting her when she touched down. After that, no one said a word, and it became universally acknowledged that if you were planning on facing Sunshine in a dogfight, you’d be walking out with a new loss under your belt. So it goes.

Nat’s come to love that about Y/N, the sharp contrast between her cheerful personality and her cutthroat fighting style, how she’d been able to prove everyone wrong without losing her cool. To this day, Natasha has never seen Y/N get angry. She’s been decidedly neutral when she thinks someone is wrong, but she’s never been truly irate.

Certainly never with Natasha, at least. When Top Gun’s usual slew of meetings is over for the day, Y/N finds her way over to Nat, smiling delightedly at her girlfriend. “Are you up for drinks later?”

Natasha laughs. “Oh, you have no idea. I think this is the longest week of my entire life.”

Y/N grins. “What, you don’t like being stuck in sweltering rooms until you pass out? I can’t believe it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Easy there, Captain Sarcasm. I know you were nodding off too, don’t try to pass this off like it’s just me.”

“I would never dream of it,” Y/N promises solemnly, then giggles again.

Rooster comes up behind the two of them, slinging arms around both of their shoulders. “Did I hear someone offer to get drinks?”

“You did,” Y/N says in a sing-song voice, “I won’t force you to come if you don’t want to, though. I’m sure Cyclone would be delighted if you stuck around a little longer to go over the flight plans a few more times.”

Rooster groans loudly. “I’ve heard more about flight plans than I ever want to again. No thanks.”

“You’re a professional pilot,” Natasha points out. “What else would you hear about?”

“Friends who are nice to me?” Rooster offers.

Natasha chuckles. “You ask for too much. See you at sundown?”

“Count on it,” Rooster promises. “I’ll rally the Dagger Squad. Be there or pay for everybody.”

Natasha waves him off, leaving the two women alone again. She sighs contentedly at the thought of the night ahead. After all the work they’ve been subjected to over the past five days, the thought of an easy weekend with friends sounds sublime.

And, arriving at the Hard Deck just as golden hour turns into blissful twilight, Natasha thinks she couldn’t be more right about that. Y/N’s a perfect picture as always, not a hair out of place, her off-duty uniform crisply ironed. She smiles when Natasha twirls her, and allows her girlfriend to lead her inside where the rest of their friends await.

The Dagger Squadron has sunk many a night into the Hard Deck’s cheery warmth, and by all accounts, this evening is shaping up to be another lovely endeavor. Bob and Payback have started up a round of pool, and Rooster’s already eyeing the piano. He might be held back from bursting into song by Hangman, though, who’s just getting started on his usual blow-by-blow of the day’s dogfights. Coyote is listening in, looking ready to rescue Rooster should the situation get urgent.

After stopping by Penny at the bar to grab some drinks, Y/N and Natasha make their way over to their friends. Natasha is just starting to lose herself in the usual blur of singing along to the music piping through the fading speakers, laughing at Fanboy’s increasingly dramatic pool trick shots, and dancing with Y/N, when something just has to go wrong.

It feels unfair on a night like this. However, that doesn’t stop the fact that some ass from across from the bar feels the overwhelming need to pause by their happy group on the way to get another round of drinks for the rest of his douchey friends, eye all of them with obvious disdain, and say loudly, “Gee, they let anyone in here, don’t they?”

Dead silence from the Dagger Squad. By Natasha’s side, Y/N arches a brow at the guy and asks slowly, “What do you mean by that?”

Natasha exchanges a panicked glance with Rooster behind Y/N’s back. Y/N’s grin hasn’t slipped, but it’s gained an unsettling edge that Natasha has never seen before.

The guy, however, doesn’t know Sunshine as well as the rest of them, so he has no idea that he’s headed into dangerous territory. Instead, he just guffaws. “God. Navy. None of you get sick of keeping your heads up your own asses, do you?”

Y/N’s eyes flash. It occurs to Natasha that for once, the other woman isn’t happy anymore. More than that, she’s angry. She’s furious.

“I know some pathetic excuse for a man didn’t just try to insult us,” Y/N begins, voice like a razor. “I know you wouldn’t do that. Were you dropped on the head as a child? I mean, it would make a lot of sense, but it still doesn’t excuse how unbelievably stupid you’d have to be to say that.”

The man stares at her. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

Y/N folds her arms across her chest. “Would you prefer that I be nicer? Funny, because I’d much rather call you out for being a fucking asshole with shitty fashion sense and even worse taste in drinks. I’ve seen high school recruits with more muscle mass. If you’re going to be a douche, do it in the privacy of your own home so the rest of us aren’t fucking bothered by a waste of space like you. You make me want to get blackout drunk just so I forget that creeps like you exist.”

The guy is gaping at her now, but Y/N’s on a roll. “Get the hell out of here or I’ll kick your ass. I’d ask if you thought two black eyes would fix your face, but I think that’s a mess nothing could improve.”

The guy looks like he wants to say something back, but Y/N takes a threatening step for him and he practically runs to settle his bill and head out. Y/N watches him like a hawk until the guy heads out the door again, leaving the rest of the Dagger Squad to look around at each other in complete and utter shock as if they’d seen something impossible. Which, up until less than five minutes ago, they had.

Y/N glances back at Natasha and begins to look a little chagrined. “Was it too much? I just got so mad hearing him talk about the rest of us like that, is all.”

Nat shakes her head frantically. “No. No, it was– it was great. I think you should do it all the time.”

Y/N cracks a grin at that. “That might be a little extreme, but I have to say, it felt good. I like scaring men.”

“I like it too,” Natasha breathes, and swoops Y/N into a kiss that lasts several heartbeats.

Friendly chatter returns to the Hard Deck by the time they break away, but for once, Natasha couldn’t care less what everyone else is doing. All that matters is the woman in front of her, Nat’s girl. She’s always known that Y/N was intimidating, especially in a jet, but this is something altogether different. Judging by the way Natasha’s heart keeps tripping over itself whenever she thinks about the incident, she’d have to admit that it’s a good sort of difference, too.

requested by @faerieroyal, i hope you enjoy!

top gun tag list: @luckyladycreator2, @atarmychick007, @ramenyul, @mayfieldss, @nonsensical-nonce

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[cultofpersxnality]

The past is a very determined ghost, haunting every chance it gets.

It was incredible how much a quote could define a single man’s life. If there was something CM Punk tried to keep private, that was the state of his family. And the keyword was tried, since everything that happened between him and the rest of his blood relatives was public knowledge. What was unknown to the rest of the world was right in front of him, on his phone: a text message from his brother. Yeah, his brother Mike, also known as CM Venom. That ring name was so accurate, because that person was nothing but toxic to him. Suddenly, Phil’s mind began to travel back in time: early 2000, the two of them were a Tag Team, the Chick Magnets. Two young and naive boys from Chicago, ready to step into the wrestling world and conquer it, together. Until... that together revealed itself to be nothing but an illusion. Mike decided to steal money from the company they were working for. Needless to say, that act full of cowardice destroyed the relationship between the two brothers. The last words Phil said to Mike were something along the lines of ‘I don’t wanna see your stupid ass face ever again for the rest of my life‘. And now, 20+ years later, the former AEW World Champion was still dealing with the emotional pain that story caused him; to put it bluntly, reading that message brought back bad memories. How was it possible though? Many years had passed, the Second City Saint moved forward into the life he had always dreamed, so why? Why did he want to scream in nothing but pure rage against the display? The more he read those texts, the faster his heart was beating. Hey It’s me, Mike I see you’ve been going through a lot lately Can we talk? The only family member Phil loved with all his heart was his little sister. His father? He was dead to him. His mother? He got a restraining order against her a few years ago. His brother? The biggest piece of garbage in this world. Family... such a beautiful concept to a normal person, but such a shitty concept to him. Punk’s arm was shaking, his body language didn’t lie: he was nervous, to say the least. Many doubts were invading his mind, should he answer? Did that guy really deserve it? Phil tried to consider every single option in the shortest possible amount of time, but that only ended up confusing him even more. Until he couldn’t take it anymore, all the negative emotions were taking over, they were bursting out all of a sudden. The Chicagoan let out a scream, it was full of rage, anger, bitterness, but also lot of sadness was into the mix. Phil wasn’t thinking straight in this moment, and that absence of control became clear as day when he thre the phone against the wall, using all the strenght he had in his body. The impact between the phone and the wall made a loud noise and managed to create a crack on the screen, a very visible one. Phil acted out of instinct, but there wasn’t the slightest sign of regret on his face, and what he said later was a clear indicator of his decision. “Go to hell.” Was this story going to become public because of that piece of shit of his brother? If not, was Phil going to share this with someone? Perhaps someone he trusted with his own life? Even he didn’t know: the only thing he was sure of is that he needed to regain his composure.

[analiticalanonymous]

Love The Attention

Warnings: Gore, violence, cursing, yandere, reader with daddy issues,(aka loves yandere shiggy and havoc he spreads) reciprocated love

Pairing: Yandere Shigaraki X Reader

Have you ever had that moment of looking at someone and you immediately thought-

"This is it..this is the one.."

-while your heart finally feels light and weightless as all worry leaves your body and you can't help but melt?

Well, you just did while watching Shigaraki dust another man, drenched in blood not of his own, but the countless others who dared lay their fingers on you. His face was twisted in rage and disgust as he crumbles man after man in such a short amount of time that it just drove home how powerful he really was. And to be reminded it was all done single-handedly was a horse pill of a thought to swallow to the normal man.

But to say it didn't make your heart beat faster and those silly little flips that your stomach did when you were so happily in love would be a distasetful lie.

He was a fucked up sociopathic killer, known to destroy nations, kill for what he wanted, and for his lack of patience. And you were what he wanted most. He would kill for you, die for you, give you the sun, the moon, the earth, and heaven & hell if you just asked.

To say his dedication and undying loyalty wasn't the most addicting feeling would be another godamn lie. Probably the biggest one out there. After all, who else could say they stole the heart of Japans-no-the worlds most dangerous and powerful man? Who else could say they could have the heads of those they hated on a golden platter presented before them? Who else could say they were the queen/king/ruler of the world beside the devil himself? That's right. No one.

Now. You are hyper aware of how wrong it all is. You love a psychotic killer who has no concept of boundaries and refuses to take 'no' for an answer. Not to mention he is a possesive, obsessive, asshole, stalker who kidnapped you. But the worst part was when you noticed that you didn't care. You had in fact never felt so desired in your life. He made you feel like a deity whereas everyone in your life threw you aside and disregarded you like trash in a city.

You craved his affection. You craved his attention. And above all else, you craved him. Now, it all sounds incredibly bad, but you actually enjoyed it all. Not that you would tell Shigaraki that, afterall, how could you risk him getting bored of you if you let him get everything 'easy'.

Yeah. You were definitely messed up. But so was he to be fair.

"Y/N."

You were snapped out of your trance by the intense and rage filled voice of your captor and lover. You were fucked.

"Y-yes Shiggy?" You looked at him with your doe eyes and fiddle with your hem of your skirt as he stormed over to you. "What did I tell you about escaping?" He snarled cleaning the blood off of his hands. You looked away, "You said-" you began to mumble until he snatched your jaw, with his pinky up, and jerked your head up to look him in the eyes. "Look at me when you speak!" He rasped with a deathly glare. His pupils were shruken to specks and his red irises blended with the splatters of blood on his face. You swallowed heavily. "Y-you said that you would find me no matter where I was.." You nearly whisper as tears flood your eyes. "B-but I wasn't escaping!!" You try to say but his grip tightens on your jaw.

"Liar."

He narrowed his eyes as his upper lip curled into a snarl. "No! This time I swear!! I promise you Shiggy I wasn't trying to leave you! I promise!" You wept as you cupped your hands over his hand on your face and his arm. He only growled in response as he visibly loomed over you, but before he could say anything you gripped his cape and pulled him closely. "You saw I-I didn't go far! I was only trying to get you a surprise because you won that battle recently! B-but then these guys j-jumped me before I could g-get back in time and they started to touch me an call me names and and-" you sniffled as you wept into his chest. You were so shaken up by the men who harassed and attempted to molest you that you were behaving uncharacteristically scared. Even when Shigaraki was angry you were never so shaken up.

He was about to call bluff until he remembered he did see you with a bag before he went on his jealous rage induced killing spree. He looked to the side and saw a Gamestop bag. You really weren't trying to leave? He physically tensed at your next words, "I was so scared Tomura..." You whimpered and burrowed your face deeper into his chest, "I'm sorry I left...I don't want to leave you..I love you." You whisper gently between hiccups, almost mute with how quiet it was, but he heard it loud and clear.

He picked you up bridal style and cradled you, walking over the bag and back in the direction to the hideout. You were about to question him when you looked up to see his face flushed and a soft look took over his previous angry one. "I believe you..now go to sleep, we've got a ways to go." He said surprisingly calm. You rested your head against his chest starting to calm down and as your eyes started to flutter closed you heard him, "I love you more than you could ever understand." He whispered, more so to himself than anything, but you heard him loud and clear. You couldn't stop your smile.

Yup. This is it.

This is the one.

[alisonsfics]

Christmas Traditions🎄

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: All day Reid has been telling Y/N about the many Christmas traditions around the world, but at the end of the day she shows him her favorite tradition.

Word Count: 2.1k

It was Christmas Eve and the whole team was at the office. You all weren’t on a case though, just finishing up all your paperwork so you’d be done for Christmas.

You were in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee. Someone had set up a Christmas tree in the kitchen. You were looking at the ornaments while sipping on your coffee.

Then you sensed someone standing behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Spencer standing there, with his cup of coffee. “What are you doing?” He asked you, curiously. “Just looking at the tree, it's so pretty” you told him, smiling.

“Did you know that the tradition of decorating a Christmas tree originated in Germany?” He asked you. “Hmmm, well now I know” you said, smiling while looking over at Spencer. “So do you have any fun Christmas plans, Spence?” You asked him. “No not really, I normally just read” he told you, sheepishly.

“You can come over tomorrow if you want to, we could make gingerbread houses or watch Christmas movies, or whatever you want to do” you told him, praying he would say yes.

“Did you know unmarried women in England would eat gingerbread in hopes that it would help them find a suitor?” Spencer asked you, his face lighting up when he realized he knew a fact about the topic. “Is that yes? You’ll come over tomorrow?” You asked him, excitedly.

“If it’ll make you happy, then I’ll be there” he told you, smiling. You were elated, you were going to get to spend Christmas with your best friend, who had the biggest crush on. Your eyes lit up and you wrapped your arms around Spencer. “Thank you so much” you told him, smiling up at him. He seemed shocked, but wrapped his arms around you, in return.

“Hello lovebirds” you heard a very familiar voice say behind you. You both jumped apart and you saw Penelope had just walked in the room. “I convinced Spencer to come over for Christmas” you told Penelope, feeling accomplished. “I need a picture of him in a Christmas sweater. I just need it, Y/N” she begged you. “That is not happening” Spencer said, walking back to his desk.

“I know what you need to do” Penelope said, her eyes lighting up. “I’m not making him wear a Christmas sweater” you told her. “No, not that. You need to put some mistletoe up in your apartment” she told you, mischievously smirking.

“What? Why would I do that?” You asked, pretending like that didn’t sound magical to you. “Come on Y/N, we all know you are head over heels for our resident genius” Penelope told you, not buying your lie for a second.

“What if it freaks him out and he leaves and never talks to me again?” You asked her, thinking of only the bad ways that could end. “But what if he likes you too?” Penelope suggested. “Do you know something I don’t know?” You asked her, wary of her smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but we’ve all been trying to get Spencer to hang out for Christmas and he always says no. But you asked him and he said yes, without a second thought, right?” She asked you, wiggling her eyebrows.

You thought about it for a second, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach. What if Spencer did like you?

“We’re just friends, Penelope” you said, mostly trying to assure yourself, and not Penelope. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart” she said, smiling and walking back to her office.

It was later in the day now, and you were still sat at your desk still doing paperwork. You set down your pen for a second. You did a few little stretches in your chair, trying to wake yourself up. This paperwork was boring to say the least.

You thought about what you could do that was more interesting than this paperwork. One idea quickly came to mind. You rolled your chair over to Spencer’s desk. He watched you and chuckled to himself at how childish you were being.

“Spence, I’m bored. Tell me another Christmas fun fact” you whined. “1.76 billion candy canes are made each holiday season” he told you, going along with your request.

“Woah, that’s a lot of candy canes. Thank you” you said, rolling back to your own desk.

What you didn’t see was the smile on Spencer’s face as you went back to your desk. It was the smile of someone who was completely lovestruck.

Finally, you had finished all your paperwork and you felt so relieved. Now, the only thing you had to think about was spending Christmas with Spencer. You grabbed your bag and looped her arm though the handle of the bag.

You walked over to Spencer’s desk. “So I’ll see you some time tomorrow? No earlier than 9am though” you told him. “Are you leaving?” He asked you, frowning. “Yeah, I’m done with my paperwork. Plus, I have to stop by the store on my way home.

“I’m almost done. Wait for me, and we can walk out together?” He propositioned. “Okay, I’ll be in Penelope’s office” you told him, figuring it was a good way to spend your time. You walked over to Penelope’s office and you peeked in the door.

You saw Derek and Penelope both sitting next to each other, talking about something. “Hey guys” you said, smiling at them. “Oh great Y/N, you’re here! I was just telling Derek about yours and Spencer’s romantic Christmas planned for tomorrow” Penelope said, smirking at you.

You groaned as you sat down in an extra chair. “That is not what’s happening” you said, looking towards Derek. “It doesn’t sound that crazy to me. He looks at you like you’re the only one in the room. And you are the only one he’s ever agreed to spend Christmas with” Derek told me. Now, Penelope and Derek were both smirking at you.

“He agreed to hang out tomorrow because we’re friends and he had no other plans” you explained to the both of them. “If you say so” they both said, in unison.

Then someone else appeared in Penelope’s doorway. It was Spencer, he was standing there with his bag. “Hey Y/N, you ready to go?” He asked you. You knew that this was only going to encourage Penelope and Derek’s teasing.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Bye guys, see you in a few days” you told them, as you stood up. As you walked out of the door, you could see them both winking at you.

“So do you need me to bring anything tomorrow?” Spencer asked you, as you both started to walk to your cars. “Ummm no, not that I can think of. Just bring yourself and all the fun facts you can carry” you joked. You saw him laugh at your joke. It was the first time Spencer had laughed at one of your jokes. You felt the butterflies start to appear in your stomach.

“Okay, so I’ll take that at as a no” he said, chuckling. “I will supply anything you need, just come over and keep me company” you told him. “That sounds good to me” he said, smiling.

You realized you both had reached your car and you felt disappointed. You had to say goodbye to Spencer. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked him. He nodded and smiled at you. You resisted every urge that you had to lean in and hug him, instead you just got into your car.

Spencer waved to you as you drove away. Instead of driving straight home, you stopped at the store to pick up some of the essentials. You bought hot chocolate, candy canes, and some cookies. You were standing in the Christmas aisle at the store and you couldn’t stop staring at the mistletoe.

Was Penelope right? Should you give it a try?

You grew tired of trying to decide if you should buy it and just grabbed it. You got home later that night and put away all the food. Then you stared at the mistletoe in your hand.

Could this ruin your friendship with Spencer?

Completely.

But was there a part of you that still wanted to know if there was a possibility that Spencer liked you back?

Absolutely.

So you walked over to an archway in your apartment and hung up the mistletoe. You sighed, having given into Penelope and Derek’s teasing.

You cleaned up your apartment a little bit and then decided to head to bed. As soon as you laid down in bed, you fell right asleep. But only to have multiple dreams about hanging out with Spencer tomorrow.

You woke up, more excited for Christmas than you had in a while. You quickly changed into some jeans and put on a cute Christmas sweater. You turned on some quiet Christmas music, just to have in the background. You set out all the cookies and candy canes and whatnot. You looked around, wondering if everything was ready when you heard a knock at your door.

You jumped a little and felt the butterflies back in your stomach. You walked over to your front door. You took a deep breath, before opening the door.

You opened the door and Spencer was standing there in a Christmas sweater, you were shocked to say the least. “Spencer! I’m so glad you’re here. You look pretty festive” you told him, smiling.

“Hi, I figured that you would get mad if I wasn’t dressed in the festive spirit” he told you. You giggled to yourself and invited him in to your apartment.

You followed him inside and then he turned to face you. “I got you this” he said, sheepishly. You looked down and he had a present in his hands. It was neatly wrapped with a bow on top. “Aww thank you Spencer” you said, taking the gift from his hand. You saw the gift tag, that had your name scribbled in Spencer’s hand writing.

You opened the wrapping paper, carefully. When you opened the gift, you found a novel. It was your favorite novel. You and Spencer had had a conversation about this book, a while ago. You raved to him about it and how much you loved it. And now, you were holding a signed, first edition of the book.

“Spencer! This is amazing, you know this is my favorite book. This is so thoughtful” you said, pulling him in for a hug. He seemed shocked, but hugged you back. Although, he seemed like he didn’t really know what to do in the situation.

“Did you know that out of all age groups, baby boomer are most likely to give gifts to the fewest amount of recipients?” Spencer asked you, probably relying on statistics because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Hmmm is that so?” You asked him, stepping away from him. You wanted to him the space he needed. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable” you apologized. “Oh no, you didn’t! You just told me to be prepared with facts. I’m glad you like your gift though” he said, smiling at you.

You realized now was the best time to attempt whatever you were trying to attempt with the mistletoe. That way, you had less time to spend dreading the outcome. It was better to just get it out of the way.

“Okay, so you’ve been teaching me all about Christmas traditions and it’s been really fun. But I want to teach you about my favorite Christmas tradition. Do you know what my favorite tradition is?” You asked him. “I don’t. What about baking cookies?” He asked, completely guessing. You shook your head no. “So what is it?” He asked you.

“Come here, I want to show you” you said, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the archway with the mistletoe. You both were standing under the mistletoe, but he hadn’t noticed yet.

“What are we doing?” He asked, as you faced him. “Look up, Spence” you told him, simply. He looked up and you saw the realization in his eyes.

Spencer looked back down at you, and had a worried expression. Then, he took a deep breath and you noticed him starting to lean in. You were surprised, you couldn’t believe that he actually liked you.

You smiled to yourself and placed your hands on his chest. You both leaned in and eventually your lips connected. It was magical, and it felt like a cliche Hallmark movie. You could feel Spencer smile as he kissed you.

You both eventually pulled away with the biggest smiles on your faces. “Best Christmas ever” Spencer whispered to you.

taglist: @reniescarlett @thelovelyrose @shyinadarkplace @averyhotchner @katerinaval

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character!!

Requests OPEN

[remmushound]

Hello! I have another request. Could you do a story where 2012 Donnie decides to use the Rise!Turtles' weapons for a test drive without their permission? I imagine 2012 Donnie trying to figure what kind of materials it has in order to create the mystic weapons and testing it out. But then things goes wrong and he attempted to fix it but can't. Bet the Rise!Turtles won't be so happy at Rise!Donnie's counterpart for taking their weapons without their permission.

@assanmaharielsreblogs

He had to get a better look at them. I mean, when else was he gonna get a chance like this one? In his world there was no magic— there was tech far behind his understanding, sure, but that was still tech. Tech that someone engineered, using their own knowledge, for a specific purpose. But here? It was all over the place! Just one patrol using Donatello’s goggles had keyed him into hundreds of mystical hotspots all around the city! He had seen their weapons in action, but he needed to see them closely— in controlled settings under a microscope! To see the inner workings and try to replicate them! If he could get his hands on that kinda tech, then he and his brothers would be unstoppable! And these guys were just using them like toys! Well, not on Donnie’s watch!

Michelangelo’s kusari-fundo had been a difficult thing to snatch. The box turtle was sleeping with the thing on his bed, hugging the weapon like it were a toy. If Donnie hadn’t known better, he’d have said the blades looked almost soft. Michelangelo snored just like Donnie’s Mikey did, tucked under a soft, fluffy comforter and dressed in an orange unicorn onesie. Mikey shared the bed with him (as did Leonardo with Leo and Raphael with Raph), but the older box turtle was sleeping like a rock.

Donnie carefully pried the tool from Michelangelo’s grip with the skill and delicate touch of a true ninja, quickly replacing it with a stuffed animal. Michelangelo gave a soft groan at the disturbance, but quickly hugged the toy as he settled once more. Donnie grinned and looked at the weapon in his hand. Staring into the slick, painted surface, Donnie almost thought he saw an eye staring back at him. He quickly shook his head, looked back, and the eye was gone. Just his mind playing a trick. Leonardo was next.

******

“What are you doing?”

Donnie almost screamed. “Wha— what are you doing awake?!”

Leonardo crossed his arms and glared, his face remarkably bare without his mask and only slightly stifled by a blue nightcap.

“I’m a ninja with crippling insomniac tendencies— sue me.” Leonardo said calmly. “What are you doing with my sword?”

“Uh.” Donnie glanced between Leonardo and the katana he was holding, “nothing?”

“Nothing?” Leonardo scrutinized with a piercing gaze that seemed to call Donnie out in his lie

Donnie hesitated, then sighed. He gave a light laugh and ran his hand across his head. “S-sorry! Just panicked. Other Donnie wants to uh. See if he can use some of the mystic energy from your katana to reverse-engineer a rift for us to get home— me and my brothers, I mean.”

“Ooookay.” Leonardo’s eyes betrayed his distrust, but he didn’t say a word against it, “just ask next time, okay?”

“Yeah. Will do.”

********

Getting the Tonfa from Raphael was nerve wracking. Access to Donatello’s staff was easy— Donnie already had permission to examine and admire its inner workings, so his touch was programmed into the systems anti-theft database as a non-threat. Michelangelo’s kusari-fundo required stealth, sure, and Leonardo’s sword required cunning, but this? This required him escaping with the Tonfa and from the crushing bite of a genetic predator. No matter how calm and content he acted while awake, after that first night’s run-in with savage Raph, Donnie was more than cautious to avoid another similar outburst. Lucky for him, the Tonfa were hung up at a safe distance from the snapper on the wall, and Raphael’s snoring drowned out any noise he might have made.

And just like that, Donnie had everything he needed for a test run. Of course, he was far more skilled with the familiar bō staff than with any of the other weapons (past experience had taught him just how difficult learning a new weapon could be, nevertheless mystic ones), so naturally Donatello’s bō was the first one to try out. Though it itself wasn’t of mystic origin, Donatello had stated many times of the mystic enhancements that made the weapon flourish from a simple multi-tool to what could classify as a weapon of mass destruction.

“Okay...” the staff, despite its greater size to the one he was used to, was surprisingly light in comparison. A quick weigh-in brought it to only fifteen pounds which, given the amount of tech it carried, was an incredible feat. Just how his younger counterpart could manage such a thing seemed almost impossible to the older Donnie’s mind, but that only served to scratch his curiosity even more! There were so many buttons on the shaft he didn’t even know where to start...

He went for the biggest button first out of pure, childish curiosity. This curiosity led to the worse possible outcome as the end of the bō furrowed out and turned into a compact rocket, which turned sideways on itself and shot out sparks of power. Donnie tried to catch himself, but it was too late. Already the power of the launcher dragged him off his feet and forced his unprepared body into a spin. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up with his body and press the same button to withdraw the blaster.

“Note to self... big button bad. Shoulda known that.”

From them on, he was much more careful with his examine. Every press of a button was met with a brace-for-impact in case a similar issue occurred, but he thankfully avoided such an outcome. One button shot a burst of electricity out the opposite side of the bō from where the blaster was, while another button shot two reinforced wings out either side to form a glider. Another button produced a blade on either side of the staff, and another revealed a compartment filled with gauze and alcohol thread and a needle safely tucked into a surgical pouch— an emergency kit, he supposed. He remembered Donatello also having a much bigger one in his battle shell, so this turtle obviously came prepared. Another compartment had a pair of glasses and a bottle of ibuprofen.

“Wow. No such thing as traveling light, I guess.”

He put the bō staff safely to the side before grabbing the Tonfa next. He placed both Tonfa on the table and the first thing he did was examine one of them under the microscope. It was nothing special— just redwood, as far as he could see— albeit old enough to date back to ancient Japan and perhaps even further. Then he put on Donatello’s goggles and looked at the Tonfa through the lenses, which opened up a whole new world of beauty to the normal-looking weapons.

The Tonfa lit up an impossible red, and on the screen appeared the word Muladhara. The red chakra— the root chakra as Donnie knew it best, represented by a red lotus with four petals. Vitality and strength. Instinctual tendencies and the densest of all seven chakras. The more his mind worked it over, the more it made sense. Muladhara was Raphael down to the finest detail. It commands attention and can be forceful at times. The color of passion and love and determination— the color of anger and daring. A color and chakra associated with abandonment and inherited trauma...

Donnie didn’t want to think about it anymore. And he didn’t dare try to activate the weapons knowing their power. He sat them aside and moved onto Leonardo’s katana.

Like the Tonfa, they were nothing special at first glance. Blades made from tamahagane steel common in ancient Japan, and the Tsuka was as unique as every tsuka, covered in ray skin and silken rope, with writing from the first ever wielder of the blade.

Anatawa Hitorijanai... you are not alone.

Under the goggles, another new vision of the mystic weapon opened up for him. The blue chakra of course— Vishuddha. The throat chakra. It took a lot more critical thought than with Raphael’s weapons, but Donnie supposed that the chakra could fit Leonardo. The balance of Vishuddha would speak truthfully, encouraging conversation and relying on self expression. Speaking with confidence and feeling compassion for those around you— communicating your worries even when you were scared to... but an unbalanced Vishuddha with no way to express it could easily lead to the anxiety Leonardo often felt in social settings. Perhaps his chakra was underactive, or blocked completely, by the feeling of something... unfulfilled in his life.

Donnie had more confidence experimenting with the teleporting sword than he did with the Tonfa. He wouldn’t have to go through it himself, he figured— he could just toss something through and study how it worked. He picked up the blade and looked it over before holding it out to the air in front of him. Leonardo had told him that he had to have a very clear image in his mind— no other thoughts clouding it. Any mistake or misthought could lead to an unstable portal, and unstable portals were extremely dangerous. You could get trapped between rifts, or get portal jacked, or end up hundreds of miles away from where you intended! Donnie closed his eyes to better imagine the room in front of him. Every fine detail... every flaw and crack and puddle and crawl space... every bug skittering around and every sound and every smell surrounding him like a cloud of mist.

He traced the blades point through the air and he was sure he could feel some minor resistance, but he kept focusing on the room. Droplets falling on the stone floor... forming puddles...echoing down the tunnels...

He completed the circle and opened his eyes. Immediately he pulled back as the brightest shade of turquoise almost blinded him, and after a moment of shielding his eyes he finally forced himself to look toward the brightness. The circle wasn’t perfect. In fact, the rift itself seemed almost squiggly, as if distorted by water. Distorted, but hopefully functional. Donnie took a pen out of his tool belt and reluctantly approached the portal, resisting against the temptation of its mystic pull and holding out the pen ready to throw it in. Then another thought occurred to him. What if he just…

He dropped the pen. At first the pen made as if it was going to fall but stopped midair by some otherworldly force. Then it was drawn to the portal and through it with a bubbling noise as it disappeared. Then another rift came to existence above Donnie and, before he could do anything more than look up to it, the pen fell out and hit him on the head.

“Ow.” It didn't hurt, but he said it anyway as he picked up the pen and put it back where it belonged. Curious. Very curious…

He took the sword and slashed through the original portal, destroying both it and its awkward counterpart with nothing more than a soft blip as the magic returned to the blade. There, no harm done! Now all that was left was Michelangelo’s.

A long chain, surprisingly rust-free for how far back it dated. The previous owners must have taken extreme care to keep it in the shape it was in. A chain that, despite how flexible and controlled it looked in Michelangelo’s skilled hands, was short and almost stiff in Donnie’s. The weighty was only on one end, as opposed to both as would be used with most kusari-fundo. A round weight with a ring of spikes across it. Donnie gave one point an experimental poke and yelped as it broke the skin and he started to bleed.

“Another note to self— pointy bit sharp.” He examined the serrated edges a bit longer before moving onto the goggle-inspection.

The sacral chakra, as Donnie had expected. Swadisthana, the orange chakra located in the lower belly. Connected to empathy and intimacy, pleasure both sensual and sexual. Creativity, fantasies, feelings. Everything that made up Michelangelo. An imbalance could lead to someone with boundary issues… yes, definitely Michelangelo, Donnie added to himself with a slight snort as he remembered just how clingy and touchy this world’s Michangelo’s was. At least his world’s always directed that touch-hunger to Raph or Leo and not to him.

A carving on the side of the weight caught Donnie’s attention and he spun it around to get a better view. The design was very faint, but it was there. It looked almost like a smiley face with closed eyes, something Donnie figured to have been added quite recently by Michelangelo. But further examination of it showed that the carving was old, as old as the weight itself, and installed by a previous owner. He even doubled and triple checked just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Now all that was left to do was test it out. He had minor experience with chain weapons (the likes of which still haunted him to his day and made him give an uncomfortable shiver) and it wasn’t like he was actually going to fight with it! He was just going to test out the weight distribution and how effective it would be during fights since he had yet to see any of the other-world counterparts in battle.

He grabbed the handle securely, nodding at the nice distribution he was already feeling. He was just about to take a swing when he remembered the goggles still on his face and decided to take them off first, in case they somehow screwed with any of his data. He did so and turned to swing the kusari-fundo once more until something else this time stopped him in his tracks. 

The glow didn't stop. He had taken off the mystic sensors and he tapped his head just to be sure! But the glow didn't stop. The smiling face was a much more prominent yellow against the orange, and Donnie was sure its eyes had been closed before… 

The pupils in the eyes moved to stare at him and Donnie screamed and dropped the weapon in horror as he crawled back against the wall. The weapon pursued. On it’s own with no master or anything physical to command it. It drifted up and it’s living, flaming eyes followed Donnie’s every move. He made an experimental motion toward the door and the weapon made the same motion as it readied to pursue until Donnie returned to his original position.

The thud of approaching feet sealed Donnie’s fate in stone. Seconds later, seven mutant turtles poked their heads into the room, three of them armed and the other four looking confused and concerned by their lack of weapons. 

“Donnie?” Leo tried to make a motion to approach his brother, but quickly withdrew out of the room when the kusari-fundo gave a warning spark. “The hell’s that thing?”

“Sparky!” Michelangelo ran into the room confidently with his arms extended, his brothers spilling in after him.

“Wait, no!” 

Donnie awaited a terrifying assault that didn't happen. Instead, the fiery weapon subsided it’s flame and fell swiftly through the air to land in Michelangelo's arms. Michelangelo cuddled it closely and churred as he covered the tiny face in kisses.

Finally able to breath, Donnie went to part from the wall, but was stopped by a rough hand the size of his plastron.

The anger in Raphael’s eyes was uncanny. “You have a lot of explaining to do…”

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 6: Lies and Pressure

Shoot.

Because it wasn’t as if though he had a famous girlfriend he had been cheating on you, his ex-fiancée, with for who knows how long. And though the amnesia had seemed to make him more mellow - probably because he recognized nobody else but you and therefore clung to that sense of familiarity - you would still not consider him a friend. Also, technically, he was still an idol and probably had an endless sea of fans that adored him in every and any way possible.

So, he was neither eligible nor a friend, in addition to being an idol, and here you were, wallowing in your feelings. Great.

Before you allowed yourself to sleep, you decided to check with Sejin. The man was pacing back and forth in front of the door, and opened his mouth to speak when he spotted you. Immediately, you put a finger across your lips, silencing him.

“He’s finally asleep,” you whispered as you poked your torso through the opening between the door and the frame. “I’ll stay here until morning, but then I need to head to school. I think it’ll be good if someone can be here by then to guard him against nosy journalists or stop him from being all too problematic.”

“I can be here by six-thirty,” said Sejin.

“That will be perfect,” you said. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he said instantly. “I can’t even imagine how the situation would have turned out without you here. The kid is lucky to have someone like you.”

You blushed at the compliment. “I’m just doing what any good friend would do.”

“I thought you said you weren’t friends.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” you admitted hesitantly.

“Are you dating?”

“No!” you blurted, startled by the question. You slipped out of the room and shut the door as gently as you could after you, as not to wake Jungkook. “We’re just… family friends.” This was sounding a bit repetitive even to you now.

Kim Sejin regarded you closely for a beat, but then relaxed. “Good. He already has one girlfriend to take care of. I would have hated to see him grow up into a type of guy to have several women on the side.”

You were tempted to laugh, but managed to rein yourself in. “Agreed.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You fell asleep almost before you had returned to the vacant hospital bed. Now, your plan had been to wake up before Jungkook and sneak out quietly as not to disturb him. But what you had forgotten from your earliest days of acquaintanceship - sleepovers, yes, there had been numerous of them during your childhood - was his eerie ability to wake up before anyone else. By the time your alarm went off, he was already awake, watching you in the dark.

You yelped.

“Scared you.”

You only barely discerned his smile through the dark. “Stupid,” you grunted as you tried silencing the harsh ringing. “I could have attacked you and injured you even more. Colored your eye to match the splint.”

“Didn’t take you for the fashion-conscious type.”

“You didn’t react to me threatening to throw a punch at you.”

“I know you’re violent,” he replied. “Besides, I know Taekwondo. I would like to see you try.”

His voice was smooth, like a soothing summer eve’s breeze. Or rather, as if he just had drunk from the glass of water standing on the bedside table between the beds. You sounded like a troll, and probably smelled like one, too.

“I know you do,” you grumbled as you sat up and fumbled for the glass. “Now, what did you just say about my fashion sense?”

“You never struck me as someone who cared about his or her appearance, that’s all.”

You downed the glass of water. “‘His or her’? Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Still tired?”

“Not a morning person,” you answered as you rubbed your eyes. “Why are you so talkative? Didn’t you drink last… er, about six or so hours ago? Shouldn’t you be the sour, surly one?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Did you drink so much you-- oh.”

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you - amnesia is contagious”

“Clever,” you said with a chuckle. “But no, it’s not. I just have a case of bad genes.”

Your body ached as you rose and you stretched. You hadn’t slept in the most optimal position, nor any way near the amount you needed, and your body and mind made sure to remind you of that.

“You were going to try and sneak out without waking me, weren’t you?”

“Yup,” you replied.

“You know you can’t lie to me, right?”

You threw up your hands defensively. “I merely thought you needed to sleep some more.”

“As do you.”

You turned on the lights and immediately found the room flushed with pallid light. You made a face and replied, “I don’t really have the freedom to do so. I have school and then errands to run because of you.”

You hurriedly unplugged your phone and checked the fourteen notifications you had received, thirteen of which were concerned texts from your parents’ driver. The last one was a message from Se-Eun, who wondered if you would pick her up as you usually did Monday mornings. You shrugged on your jacket and purse while replying to both of them. You didn’t think you could make it to Se-Eun’s, however.

“Try to rest, Jungkook,” you said absentmindedly while typing. “Be polite to the doctors and nurses. And eat something while you’re at it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Just then, a growl erupted from his stomach. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I won’t sit here, being fed by some stranger who treats me like I’m an infant,” he said sternly, his large brown eyes defiant.

“Just like you won’t wear the hospital gown or follow any other kind of normal hospital regulations?”

“Just like that.”

“You don’t remember you’re a world-famous idol, but you sure do behave like a diva.” You snorted. “Have fun starving until I get back then. I don’t have time to force-feed you right now, but I will later.”

Jungkook snorted, too. You headed toward the door after refilling the glass when he stopped you.

“(Y/N), before you leave…”

You spun around. “Make it qui--”

You felt your chest tighten. He was holding up your engagement ring.

Jungkook had picked it up and kept it after you left him.

“Is this what I think it is?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t know what type of guy I was yesterday, but I don’t think I’d just walk around with gold and diamonds.”

“Maybe a new trend in the K-pop industry?” you managed stiffly.

“It’s too small for me,” he said as he slipped the ring onto his little finger. It stopped halfway down the digit.

You didn’t know what to say. This was your chance to tell him the truth: the two of you had been engaged ever since you were eighteen. But then, he had cheated on you and you had broken the arrangement. You could change all of that now. To be frank, you didn’t hate the idea as much any longer. You were the only person he trusted and, as you had acknowledged a few hours ago, you were starting to actually like him, no matter how scary that felt. And you would fulfill your promise to him - you would help him get through the amnesia.

But you couldn’t get the image of him and Park Yi-Jae out of your head. So even though it hurt more than anything else in the world, more than when you had broken your collarbone falling down a hill, more than all of Hye-Bin’s words and “pranks” combined, you decided to lie.

“There was a girl visiting you earlier,” you began as you felt your hand clutch harder around your phone. “Do you remember her? Slim and pretty, with short, curly brown hair.”

He frowned, but nodded. “Yes, she was just as weird as the guys.”

“You and she were--are in a relationship,” you went on while you inwardly prayed that you sounded convincing. “A romantic relationship. She is your girlfriend, Jungkook.”

“My… girlfriend?” The furrow between his brows deepened. “I don’t remember anything about a girlfriend. What’s her name?”

“Park Yi-Jae,” you replied.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“That’s the thing with amnesia,” you said with a voice you hoped sounded light and playful, at least in his ears. “You loved each other very much.”

“So you’ve seen us together?”

You forced yourself not to grit your teeth in anger. “Yes, I have. Just yesterday. You looked very happy together.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything. He simply held your gaze, his eyes trusting yet suspicious.

“If you say so,” he finally said.

“Yeah, well, anyway, I better leave now,” you said as you broke away. “I’ll be back sometime late afternoon with clothes and food. Call your parents if you want to be a bit helpful meanwhile.”

“I will. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

You left before he could add anything to prolong the conversation. You didn’t want to be there any longer. Still, though it pained you, you were proud of yourself. You had chosen the right option.

Yeah, sure you had.

Down by the front desk, you met Kim Sejin while he was purchasing some coffee from an old beverage machine. You doubted he had gotten much sleep, judging by the still present bags underneath his eyes, and gave him a half-hearted smile.

“He’s awake, hungry and probably a bit tense,” you greeted him with. “He’s not exactly convinced about the whole thing, but he has agreed to let me try and help him.”

“I’m afraid I have worse news,” he said grimly. “I spoke with a specialist just now, and he told me there’s a big chance that Jungkook won’t ever regain all of his memories.”

“That's not the worst thing in the world,” you replied, furrowing your brows. “He could have died.”

“Yes but with the situation being the way it is now, I don’t think Jungkook will ever be able to perform again, at least not with the rest of the kids. The director is already considering kicking him out of the group.”

“Why?” you exclaimed. “It’s not like he’s lost a leg or his mind or something - he can still dance or sing or whatever else you need him to do!”

You ignored the sharp look a nurse sent you as she hurried past. You were fuming. Here they were, this large company that probably made a fortune out of these seven guys - out of Jungkook. And they were just dropping him as soon as something - an accident - occurred?

“They just launched their biggest tour yet,” Sejin explained in a calm voice, though he also seemed disappointed. “The company poured a lot of money and planning into this. The boys are supposed to perform on a lot of shows and be on programs as well. But how are we - or anyone at all -  supposed to work with a kid who refuses to cooperate with people he doesn’t know? Who can’t seem to recall a single song or performance with his members? And don’t make it anything personal - the director is desperate not to lose him.”

“But what are you going to do without him?” you wondered. From what you had heard from Se-Eun, Jungkook was one of the most significantly popular members of the group, which probably meant his mere presence generated quite the revenue. And judging by yesterday’s concert, he had the most lines in their songs overall.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, probably considering the same things as you. “They might make it, they might not. Chances are, however, that without Jeon Jungkook, the Bangtan Boys will disintegrate.”

You placed your hand against your forehead and exhaled. You weren’t sure exactly what the idol life consisted of, but you had caught bits and pieces from Se-Eun whenever she rambled with her friends about the group. It wasn’t what you would have chosen to spend your youth doing. It just seemed too risky.

And now, all of Jungkook and his hyungs’ accumulated effort from years of work, promotion and practice could crumble.

His childhood dream could crumble.

“I’ve grown too fond of them to let it end just like this, though.”

You shook your head to clear it from your brief reverie. “What can you do?” you asked, hearing a budding idea in his tone.

“I think I can convince the director to cancel most of the concerts,” said Sejin as he scratched his stubble. “Though it might be a little tricky, it won’t be impossible or detrimental to the company since the money is best in Japan, which is where the tour ends. If the kid could somehow perform by then, I might still have a job tomorrow.”

“But as you said, he can’t and won’t cooperate with anyone,” you pointed out. “Not even with medical personnel.”

Sejin drank from his coffee cup, then grimaced. It had probably gotten cold from all your talking. “The doctor told me there is an unorthodox way of reintroducing memories to a person with any kind of memory loss. Unorthodox because it isn’t scientifically proven and because, more often than not, it fails and proves fruitless.”

“What do I need to do?”

“You really are a great friend,” he said, giving you an odd look of sympathy. “All of this relies on your ability to remind him of his life before the accident. Since you’re the only one he trusts, he might be more receptive to you showing and telling him about the other boys, their music and their performances. All and anything that might cause it to fall in place inside his head.”

“This sounds like a movie trope or something,” you said skeptically.

“As I said, it’s unorthodox. But it’s all we really have. There are no known cures or proper treatments for amnesia.”

“Very well then.” You managed a smile even though you felt the heavy mantle of responsibility weighing your shoulders down. “I’ll try. I have at least until the end of the year on me, right?”

Sejin’s expression fell and he groaned. “Damn it, I forgot you don’t know their schedule like the back of your hand.”

“What is it?” you asked. “What do you mean?”

Tension and trepidation already tightened your throat, but your heart was beating steadily. When you had offered to help Jungkook that night, you had known it would be tough. And as the conversation with Kim Sejin had continued, you had had a feeling that whatever he was going to say would be the opposite of good. Still, you hadn’t lost faith in Jungkook’s recovery. Even now, looking at his manager, you knew it would be bad since his face said as much.

But you had never thought it would be this bad.

“The beginning of the end of their tour starts May 30th. That means you only have a little more than three months to restore him, (Y/N).”

[celestialices]

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

Summary: You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

You really want a peaceful school year, but the universe beg to differ.

004: THE END OF A NEW BEGINNING

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To say that you were surprised by this outcome would be an understatement. Being childhood friends with Hirugami Sachiro, the university’s so-called “hottie”, is a pain in the ass.  Though Hirugami’s a dependable best friend and dotes on you like an older brother, he’s a little shit. He teases you every time he has the chance to, but knows his boundaries. He never leaves your side too; always knows what’s on your mind since he is very “observant.”  The biggest disadvantage of being his best friend, is his fans. Students flocking over you to ask questions about him was tiring. The only one that ruins your day. 

It was bearing, at first, because you thought it���d be cute when you’re one of the reason why Hirugami has a lover. But you didn’t expect it to be.. like this. You had to hide often just to stop them. Ambushing you, preventing you from leaving the university’s premises, it was all too much. That’s where Hoshiumi Korai comes in.  Your friendship with Hoshiumi is... mystifying. You didn’t even know how you tolerated being friends with him in the first place, but it surprisingly lasted up until now. Seeing that you and your childhood friend are indivisible, Hirugami arranged plans for you and Hoshiumi to meet after they became friends through volleyball. “Korai-kun, this is my childhood friend I was talking to you about. From now on, we’ll all be friends, so please get along!” Ever since that day, Hirugami pushed everything and made sure to schedule a hang out for the three of you, thrice a week. There isn’t a day during your high school years that you didn’t see Hoshiumi’s face, that’s all because of Hirugami. And yeah, that’s how the two of you got along somehow. Basically, what Hirugami has, you have to have it too. And vice-versa. But having Hoshiumi as your friend set out a vast of benefits for you. Not only he’s reliable and gives great advices (to your surprise), he’s quick to get irritated. And that managed to save yourself from the crowd plenty of times. His impatient self terrify a bunch of people, so you tend to stick by his side as long as you can. 

The bond you three shared is as tough as old boots. People say that a friendship between three people would never work, saying that one is always left out. That doesn’t mean that you never had misunderstandings, hence you always manage it before it gets out of hand.

So where are they when you need them?  Your legs are about to give up from squatting, hiding yourself in the bushes in order to escape Hirugami’s aggressive followers. You know you look stupid, but it’s better than to be chased by people, right? You checked your phone, seeing no reply from your friends made you want to cry. The text was an hour ago, meaning you’ve been hiding for an hour now. Just what on Earth are they so busy for that they can’t even check their messages?

You just wanted to go home, your mother and little brother, Yuki, are probably waiting for you. Classes ended two hours ago, so they’re probably concerned about your well-being already.  It’s been quiet for too long, so you decided to look up. No fans sighted. Contemplating on whether to just run towards the gate, or stay for a few more minutes until hopefully, a good friend finds you. You let out a deep sigh, about to risk it all when all of a sudden someone shouted your name. Letting out a yelp before looking up from your hiding place, you desperately prayed for your life. Only to see Yahaba Shigeru waving at you. Well, at least he’s close to what you’ve asked for?  Yahaba Shigeru, also a student at your university. A friend of a family friend. Oh, did I mention, an admirer of yours? 

He is handsome, not going to lie. But he’s not really your type. Yahaba is a calm and carefree guy, but also a show-off. If you’re given a dollar every time he pried your attention, you’ll probably become the richest in Japan.  “Hello, Yahaba-san.” You awkwardly greeted with a smile. Maybe after a few exchange of words, you’ll ask him to walk you to the gates. He probably wouldn’t mind, in fact, he’ll probably die of excitement.  “Are you hiding from Hirugami’s fans again?” He chuckled, making you flustered on how he caught up so fast. It’s no secret that you’re the university’s source of information regarding Hirugami. It was embarrassing. “I’ll walk you home, if that’s okay with you.”  Not wanting to turn down his offer, you instantly answered. “Oh, that’s kind of you. Sure.” You cringed a little for your fast response, he won’t think you’re eager to walk with him, no? You don’t really bat an eye at Yahaba, nor answer his advances. False interpretations of a friendly action would hurt a lot.  This won’t take long, I can do this. Standing up, you grabbed your things and walked towards him. He offered to take your bag but you politely declined, thus the fiddly walk begins. 

The stroll on your way home is noiseless, you were utterly astonished that Yahaba didn’t say a word while walking side by side. For far as you know, he isn’t like this; he always has something to say. You want to ask him how he’s doing, but too shy to do so. Your conversations are always one-sided, making you feel a bit bad.  Nevertheless, you’re thankful.  Relieved that your house wasn’t faraway from the university, you reached home in a span of minutes. You glanced at Yahaba after the both of you stopped walking, noticing that he’s already looking at you expectantly. Uh oh. You were afraid to ask him to enter with you out of respect, but he’ll agree no matter what. You just wanted to rest for now, unable to handle a guest in your current state.  “Onee-san!”  Thank God for Shibayama Yuki. Your eyes went from Yahaba to Yuki in a flash, looking at him with wide eyes. Begging to save you from this situation.  “We have a visitor. Hurry up, Mom’s waiting for you.” He said, bowing apologetically to Yahaba.  It took a lot of self-control to refrain yourself from smiling. Instead, you also bowed to Yahaba. “Thank you for walking me home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned and happily marched towards your house. The house you live in was a basic Japanese one, its build is similar to the other houses, considering that you live in a private subdivision. It’s also big enough for the three of you, and enough for family friends to stay in.  And it a nice house won’t compare to the family you’ve got.  Your mother is a strong woman, she raised the two of you alone. Worked hard to give you and Yuki a lovely home, three meals a day, and all the basic necessities a mother should provide. Anything you ask for would be given in less than a day, sometimes you think she’s spoiling you too much. But in reality, you know she just wants the best for the two of you. She’s amazing.  As for your brother, Shibayama Yuki, he’s a bit shy and gentle. He often likes to keep it to himself, but managed to have a friend. Yes, he has only one. It worries you but he assured that one true friend is enough. He’s also into volleyball, a very hard-working and determined “libero” of his team. Shibayama helps you in anyway he can, always acting as the older one by protecting you from the world. Conclusion, it was perfect. You consider this all as a blessing, you’re grateful for the life you have. Every once in a while, you question yourself on what you did on your past life to have a life like this.  Placing your shoes on the shoe rack, “I’m home.” You say out of habit and glided to the living room. You were greeted with a frowning mother and the visitor Shibayama told you about, having a serious conversation. “You’re here!”  “Yahoo!” Oikawa entered the chamber, immediately smacked by Iwaizumi for breaking the silence and made everyone flinch by his sudden appearance. “Iwa!” Oikawa whined, he doesn’t understand why Iwaizumi consistently hit him, and why he doesn’t ask him to stop either.  “Shut up, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi hissed. How can he be so slow-witted at times when he’s the son of Athena? “I just wanted to up the atmosphere!” Oikawa whisper-shouted. Iwaizumi only sighed, already used to his attitude.  Currently, the chosen deities for Zeus’ quest (minus Sakusa) are gathered together. They’ll be promptly briefed on what to expect, what to do, and their responsibilities to solve this problem before it grows.  This is the first time the deities encountered a major problem that needed the superior gods’ inclusion. Of course everyone will be terrified! Is Medusa’s daughter really dangerous? They don’t know anything about her, it’s safe to assume that she is.  And what’s more terrifying is that no one in the Twelve Olympians noticed a powerful aura in Earth. They’re watching humans from time to time, how is that possible? Is Medusa’s daughter more powerful than Zeus? That’s not possible. But then again, they live in a strange world with thousands of possibilities. Oikawa counted the amount of deities present in the room. Ten. He frowned, did someone refuse to participate in this quest? It should’ve been thirteen as far as he knows, and Sakusa is already in Earth. “Who didn’t chose one?” Eyes were landed to him.  There he goes again. Iwaizumi exhaled, Oikawa is rather weird. One moment he's bubbly and often tell cheerful remarks, next he's saying or asking confusing and alarming words.  “What do you mean?” Akaashi Keiji, son of Ares and Aphrodite, sent by war-god Ares, asked. He’s flustered by Oikawa’s sudden question, totally not understanding it at all. Akaashi is a soothing and composed god. He’s also blunt, calling out the deities on the foolish acts they do. He analyzes everyone and got a hold of their personality, but could never seem to know what’s going on in Oikawa’s head. “Kuroo is visiting Asami at the moment.” Kita Shinsuke, chosen by Demeter, answered. “As for the thirteenth representative, I don’t know either.” He added, also confused on why there’s only twelve of them. Kita doesn’t sugar-coat his words, making a lot of deities afraid to hear his comments. He is straightforward, giving precise answers only. He also does what needs to be done, no one can sidetrack him. His mature way of thinking resulted to him becoming one of Mt. Olympus’ pillars, everything he worked hard for will eventually lead to a something extraordinary, just like Demeter always says. “I heard Hephaestus didn’t send one.” Ojiro Aran, representative of Zeus, replied. Aran is also one of Mt. Olympus’ pillars, an intelligent and a fully-fledged god, that’s what he is. He often solve everyday problems in Olympus along with Kuroo, especially the twins’ mess. Aran is a very reliable god, he’s one of those superior gods everyone looks up to. People often compare him to Zeus, saying that he should ascend the throne as he is the best candidate for it.  “Isn’t that.. illegal?” Suna Rintarou, sent by Hades as a form of punishment from sneaking earlier, questioned. He’s a bit lazy sometimes, but also rebellious. Only he can do that. He appears to be a quiet and nonchalant god, but Suna is expressive to his thoughts; saying what he wants to say that often gets him in trouble. If only this wasn’t a serious situation, they would’ve laughed at Suna’s question. His comments are humorous.  “I asked Ennoshita about it, since he’s the son, you know? But he said Hephaestus didn’t say anything.” Sugarawa Koushi, son of Hebe and Hercules, chosen by Hestia, shared. Under his calm and gentle personality, he’s actually a mischievous god. Overall, he’s one of the helpful and kind gods, and one of Hestia’s trusted servants of Eophertia. The representatives chosen are mostly the ones who’ve passed a year or more after getting their blessing. The only ones that came from this year’s batch were Kageyama Tobio, son of Aphrodite and Himeros, dispatched by Aphrodite due to his formidable dedication, and Kunimi Akira, sent by Hermes and will act as the messenger between two worlds.

Not too long after Oikawa entered, the doors of the chamber opened again, revealing Kuroo Tetsuro in his glory. He walked with confidence, sitting in the center as he is “the son of Zeus and Hera.” 

“Finally, you’re here.” Komori Motoya, a descendant of Apollo but lives with Artemis, spoke. He was sent because he’s the only one who Sakusa talks to, and everyone likes him. A friendly and outgoing god who encourages a lot of deities. Who wouldn’t like him?  “Sorry.” Kuroo apologized. Short and straight-forward. “Asami’s doing well, if you’re wondering.” Kuroo is serious when it comes to conflicts in Mt. Olympus, but he’s usually a laid-back god who likes to provoke others.  It’s like the amount of tension lessened after what Kuroo said. They’re all dying to visit Asami too, if only she was placed in Eophertia, things would’ve been easier.  “Anyways!” Oikawa interrupted. “Do we even know where to search? There’s a thousand places on Earth! How would they expect us to finish this quickly?” He complained. Obviously pressured on the amount of expectations given to them.  “Agreed,” Kunimi spoke, pretending like his father doesn’t have anything to do with this. He could ask him, but he’s certain Hermes will just mess with him. “If the Twelve Olympians weren’t aware of a deity wandering on Earth for the past 18 years, what can we even do?”  “I think Sakusa already encountered one.” Komori announced. Glances were thrown on him. And a chorus of “what” and other incoherent words were followed. “I think! I’m not sure!” He shrieked, distressed at the stares he’s getting.  “Quiet down.” Athena suddenly engaged in the conversation. Everyone looked at her, confused at how she suddenly appeared in the chamber without anyone noticing. The power of a goddess. “Yes, we were informed that Sakusa Kiyoomi run into one, but he wasn’t sure. Still, we’ll start from there.” She declared.  “How..” Akaashi mumbled. But didn’t mind to continue it, at least they’ve got a good start.  “Where is it, Mother?” Oikawa asked. Cliffhangers are undoubtedly not his thing.  “Tokyo, Japan.” 

THE TWELVE REPRESENTATIVES

Ojiro Aran - son of Zeus and Mnemosyne.

Kuroo Tetsuro - son of Zeus and Hera. 

Iwaizumi Hajime - son of Poseidon and Amphitrite. 

Suna Rintarou - son of Hades and Persephone. 

Sugawara Koushi - son of Heracles and Hebe.

Kita Shinsuke - son of Demeter.

Kageyama Tobio - son of Himeros and Aphrodite.

Komori Motoya - son of Aceso. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi - son of Hygieia. 

Oikawa Tooru - son of Athena.

Akaashi Keiji - son of Ares and Aphrodite.

Kunimi Akira - son of Hermes. 

A/N: Hello! I wrote this instead of studying for my exams later, it’s a bit short but longer chapters will come :)) Forgive me if there are a lot of typographical errors, I was suffering from a writer’s block while writing this, I don’t know why. Notes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! It motivates me whenever I read some reviews :D I’ll probably update again two days from now unless my brain acts up again. Please look forward for it.  If you have some questions or wanting to be added to the taglist (or chat with me!) please send an ask <3  Thank you for reading!

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 4

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

Member: Lee Juyeon

Genre: angst and smut i promise (how can i not write smut with this gif right)

A/N: idk if you guys read my A/Ns... but look for the ** in this chapter, and play the bonus track i’ve linked. i apologise in advance if it hurts... it’s going to be a long chapter, so sit back and relax

Taglist: @muvtharecca​

“you always try to hide the pain”

kevin is sitting opposite you in a 24-hour convenient store, the scent of kimchi flavoured instant noodles wafting through the air. the snow outside was only making this hot, late-night supper even more endearing as if it wasn't already on its own.

the chopsticks snap away from each other with bare minimum energy while you pull off the flap and greet the cloud of hot vapour.

the day concluded with kevin and the interviewer thanking juyeon, and they must've known something was wrong because you shook his hand without a word.

they've never seen you try so hard to force out a smile.

"go ahead and eat, kev," you jam your chopsticks into the nicely cooked noodles, shaking the strands apart. "do you need an invitation?"

kevin is accustomed to your work ethics; he knows you don't like to talk about work outside the studio or the office building.

so he deems it valid to ask when he decides that there was something more than "work" between you and the guest they had today.

"so, lee juyeon," kevin mirrors your movements, watching you in some corner of his eyes. "he's an ex-boyfriend?"

the food masks your need to throw something at kevin, and frankly, you weren't really in the mood to go against your kind-hearted colleague. not just that, you were spent from the day.

the vast amounts of strength you had to summon from the witch scratching your insides out was enough to drain you. it feels like you had to entertain more than a guest today, when you only had one.

any other day and it would've been an easy day.

but not when it is lee juyeon. not when he has his lips on yours in your studio. not when you still love him.

"you can talk to me if you need to, y/n. it sucks to see you like this, and we've been colleagues for two years."

the hot noodles leave a scalding sensation on your lips when you slurp it up, but instead, a sourness wraps itself around the nerves in your nose.

"for context, if our boss was in the studio, he would not have condoned your behaviour. you know that," leaning forward, kevin tries to meet your eyes.

"but he wasn't, so case closed."

he sighs, shaking his head gently as he takes his first mouth of instant noodles.

it is a few minutes of silence that brings you peace. every now and then, one of you slurps and kevin's lips began to pink with the heat and spicyness of the food.

yet, when kevin breaks the silence to return to the topic, it is both a relief from the tension and an added stress to the fact that you have no clue how to run anymore.

"i know he followed you into the storage room, did he do anything to you inside? are you alright?"

"i'm fine."

silence.

you look up through your lashes and see that kevin is slurping a lone strand of noodles extremely slowly, squinting his eyes at you and shaking his head.

"i think you should know you can't lie for whack."

a scoff runs your warm throat dry, and you shove another good mouth through your lips.

"i know he was talking about you in the interview, y/n. why are you denying a bad break up? most couples go through this. so what if he lost you to another man? he said he wasn't prioritising you over his work.”

kevin knows you are trying to avoid the topic and you weren’t one to be aggressive with him. 

he chooses to pry.

“from what i got from the interview, it sounds like he was the one in the wrong.”

sure, he started it. 

but you were the one who slept with someone else.

“any normal girlfriend would’ve been upset, and of course if there was another, better guy in the picture, i wouldn’t have blamed her for moving on. i wouldn’t blame you.”

but you didn’t move on, did you?

“i highly doubt any of that was your fault--”

your attention pulls to kevin from the bowl and lock eyes with him. 

“i slept with someone else, kev.”

the silence is deafening, only the jingle from the entrance of the store interrupting the still air between the two of you. 

“...while you were with--”

“yeah,” your eyes gravitate back downwards, and a frown gets cemented into your forehead. 

the food no longer looks edible; it looks more like a bunch of dead worms floating in a pool of blood. 

you hear kevin suck a deep breath through his nostrils as you push the bowl away, your appetite shrinking by the second and then it disappears completely like dust in the wind. 

“is it...” someone pays for a cup of coffee and leaves the store. “...safe to say that the two of you were already estranged when you did it?”

estranged. 

more like non-existent.

“it felt like we broke up and i didn’t know about it. i don’t know how great of an analogy or explanation that is, but i know that it felt like that,” you pause, because it feels like you were going to hurl out half the portion of noodles you had. “we were on edge for like... months. four, five months. it’s like his phone got thrown out into the middle of the pacific ocean and he never bothered to get a new one or at least save my number and i just...”

you look up from the bowl because your eyes were welling and your lungs were beginning to collapse in on themselves. there was a look of pity and sympathy in kevin’s eyes. 

his lips were pursed and brows slightly furrowed; he doesn’t know what to say and you don’t blame him. 

“the other guy was just there for me in that time of... vulnerability. i just let myself fall for that temptation.”

your colleague is stunned, but never does he once look at you like it was your fault. it was extremely out of character for you to crash and break down in front of him, and you were sure he could tell you were putting in effort to keep yourself composed. 

“sorry,” a tear falls without mercy, and you hurry to get rid of it, simply offering a weak laugh to hide your feelings. 

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you emotional.”

“it’s alright,” you shake your head and sit up straight, eyes looking to the fluorescent lights above and blinking away the layer of tears in your eyes. “saw this conversation coming anyway.”

kevin pushes out a tiny, bare smile by pursing his lips. 

you let kevin continue with his food because you couldn’t eat anymore, and your attention gravitates back to the outside world where the snow was gently falling onto the pavements. 

bright white lights reflected off the snow on the floor looking like crystals from afar, and you just can’t find enough strength to push the memory of juyeon out of your head. 

the gush of wind that greets your face would’ve been refreshing had you not just been on the verge of crumbling infront of kevin. 

he thanks the cashier behind you and follows you out onto the streets, pulling his beanie over his ears. he watches you close your eyes, snow falling into your lashes and your hair over the back of your coat. 

“i know it’s not in my place to say much, but if it’s anything i learnt from being in a relationship, it’s that you need to face whatever haunts you.”

his words sink into your skin like a cold blanket of truth, because you know it’s right. the tip of your nose numbs with the cold weather when you open your eyes and look at kevin, his presence alone enough to comfort you. 

there was probably no other person you’d be this comfortable talking to about the biggest mistake you made in your life. 

“i know.”

he nods, and turns to the left, expecting you to follow because you stay just about a ten minute walk from him.

but when he notices that you don’t budge from the spot you were standing on, and two passerbys were visibly confused with your lack of movement, kevin returns to your side and gives you a pat on the head. 

“call me if you need anything.”

like before, a nod shakes your head before you could process the movement, and kevin walks away, giving you one last look before he disappears around the corner of the building.

it is taxing to hit the button on the lift panel, watch the numbers on the display screen decrease number by second. 

it is overwhelming when the doors open, and snow falls off your shoulders when you stroll in, finger hovering over the button.

“i didn’t know i needed her until i lost her, and i lost her to another man. it was the biggest mistake then, and it’ll probably be the biggest mistake i’ll ever make.”

your lungs fill itself with a deep breath, the cold air piercing through your pores and nerves as the button lights up with a displeasing shade of red light. 

i’ll believe you this once, lee juyeon. 

we both found a chance to slit each other’s throats open and we both did. 

the gears of the lift doors grind open and a door along the corridor is wide open as someone walks in after pulling off his shoes. 

you step out without much thought, that is, until that person’s head sticks out beyond the door frame and the striped shirt is glaringly familiar to you. 

juyeon picks up his shoes and naturally, his eyes follow his line of movement. 

the eye contact seizes you in your footsteps, and it freezes juyeon the same. his back was slightly bent over, very obviously surprised that you were standing in the hallways of his residence. 

it takes him a few moments to process your face, your hands that were covered in gloves and the handbag you had dangling around your waist. 

your hair, lashes and brows were sprinkled with bits of snow; your grip around the straps of your handbag tight with tension. 

juyeon slowly resumes a proper standing position, each shoe hanging on each of his index and middle fingers as he blinks at you. 

he doesn’t say a word and the lift doors close behind you, but his door doesn’t when he turns and disappears into his apartment. 

just this once.

apologise, and you’re through.

he is not good for you and neither are you, for him.

his apartment is cozy; shoe rack, dining table on the right and a small kitchen beyond, living room. carpet, television, sofa, hallway to the private rooms.

you use your feet to get your boots off, carefully placing them by the shoe rack after dusting off the bits of snow from the wool outside the door. 

the apartment smells like juyeon and it makes you sick to your stomach when it haunts you like a dream you never woke up from; when it rips you apart all over again after five years. 

he walks into view from the hallway, arms crossed tightly across his chest and he looks at you like he was expecting something from you. 

just say what you need to say and go. 

you do not owe him anything. 

“are you here to gawk at my apartment like it’s a showroom or are you here because you wanted to do something?”

fool. 

it is surprisingly easy to contain the frustration now, because you were simply sick of it. there was no reason to remain annoyed with him, nor let him get to you all so easily when he was like this then; obviously he hasn’t changed that much. 

“i...” the neurons in your head struggle to piece the sentence together. “i came to apologise.”

kevin’s words repeat in your brain like a broken record when you look away, for juyeon was staring at you with slightly widened eyes now. he doesn’t even try to hide his surprise or shock -- or maybe he just couldn’t.

you apologising was probably the last thing he expected, yet you were here on your own initiative, spitting out words that he never thought he would hear. 

it requires a rather commendable amount of courage to look up back at juyeon again, his gaze tearing through you like a chainsaw through wood. 

“we had our differences and problems back then but i know it broke you when you found me... with sangyeon.”

you pause, thinking that he’d say something to piss you off or aggravate the situation, but his temples are tightened because he is hiding his feelings; his pain. 

“so... i’m sorry,” a pause. the muscles in your forehead contract and juyeon doesn’t move a single inch. “i don’t need you to apologise, because i don’t know what exactly happened... maybe something happened and i didn’t know but i know myself that i should not have slept with sangyeon, regardless the status of our relationship.”

at least say something, juyeon.

anything.

**  

a car honks outside, the snow getting heavier and falling like feathers of doves being shot down from the sky. the city lights outside the window were flickering with the snow blocking your view of them, but the still atmosphere was holding you by the neck; the cold temperature a knife at your throat. 

there was a kind of pain and trauma in his face that feels like paper cuts on your heart. you know very well he was playing that fateful day like a movie in his head, seeing you in bed with another man. 

you would’ve stopped him right there and then, tell him not to think about it, but that’s what you were here to apologise for anyway. 

gravity pulls your chin down to the ground with shame, your jaws clenching and your temples tightening under your beanie. the skin around your knuckles whiten with the amount of strength you were offering the straps of your handbag, 

a soft shuffle snaps you out of your blank, yet panicking mind that glued its eyes to the floor, and you watch juyeon’s feet with his socks on enter your field of vision. 

your lids squeeze shut, his voice rumbling through your nerves like an internal earthquake and you suddenly berate yourself for thinking this was a good idea.

“did you mean what you said today?”

his touch on your chin forces you out of your mental escape, your jaw being pulled upwards so you could meet his eyes.

i still love you, and i don’t want to break you again... so please don’t break me anymore.

it feels like all your motivation and confidence had drained into him through his finger under your chin, and if you weren’t already beating yourself up inside for saying that to him earlier today, you would’ve probably passed out. 

the layer of glistening tears in his eyes feels like boiling poison in your stomach, because the realisation of his truth only hits you now. 

but you don’t want to hear it.

the last time you were in love with him and he was in love with you, it was like pairing a matchstick with a wax candle: both eventually die out because of the other. 

denial washes all over you like waves during a thunderstorm in the form of an abrupt, shake of your head, even under his touch. it ached more than you liked it to have to deny the truth in what you said today, but you cannot break juyeon again.

“no, i--” your chin shifts out of his hold and your eyes dart away from his face. “i didn’t mean it--”

but didn’t you?

juyeon has your jaw in his hands again, lips cushioned against yours. 

it feels like a spear had been driven through your face when you taste his tears between your lips. 

it tastes like toxins and rotten eggs and saltwater and it makes you want to hurl; not because you hated it but because you hated how much it was hurting him.

“juyeon,” your hands push him away but he grabs both your wrists, the seizure halting you in your movements. 

“what are you so scared of?”

the question is like a dump of cold water on you, and you see nothing but remorse in his eyes. 

“...breaking you... it hurts me to know that i can, and i don’t want to do it anymore. i did it once, i don’t want to do it again.”

your voice cracks under the pressure and a tear rolls down his cheek. the urge to reach up and wipe it off his face was so intense, your hands started to tremble in his grip.

“i meant what i said during the interview today. and if you meant what you said, then it means there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

life has just shoved you off an edge, an edge that you were standing on after running away from juyeon.

only for you to fall off and into his arms again. 

he shoves his lips between yours, almost violently, when he pulls you forward by your wrists. 

he guides your arms around his shoulders and behind his neck, while his hands find your waist and rest on your lower back, keeping the length of your body close to his. 

your hair under your beanie loosens when he pulls it off, and the next to go was your handbag that he slides off your shoulder and lays it somewhere on the ground. 

don’t make me close one more door

it still doesn’t feel too far for no return, until he takes your hand and rests it on his cheek while he kisses you softly. his lips part and so do yours, instinctively, but he doesn’t force himself into your mouth. 

i don’t want to hurt anymore

the warmth from his palm over yours on his cheek melts you like the snow outside, and before you knew it, he pulls away, looking to see if you were going to turn your back on him and run.

stay in my arms if you dare

yet, the want to run is no longer in control. 

or must i imagine you there?

there was no need to say anything, because it was written all over his face and in his eyes. 

he slots his lips between yours again like puzzle pieces, this time feeling much more whole, much less in pain, much more in love; in love again.

the supposedly dead doves on the street writhes to life as a familiar fire in your chest lights up again. 

don’t walk away from me

both his hands cup your cheeks and your hands are gripping onto the material around his elbows when he starts walking you backwards. 

i have nothing 

a wall meets your back, sandwiching you between the cold concrete and the warmth that was emitting from the length of his body.

if i don’t have you

his scent fills your nostrils like flowers in a field and it is almost nauseating to have it so near to you. not only were you smelling it, you were tasting it, and having it in your grasp was extremely surreal.

you break the kiss first and look at the skin on his neck before finding the courage to look back up at him. 

there is a mild frown on his forehead, his palms still holding your face so gently, it feels like you were cushioned in feathers.

“juyeon...”

the name rolls off your tongue like a song lost in time, and juyeon simply angles his head downwards to meet your lips again. 

you must’ve been a fool to believe that five years was enough for you to forget about juyeon, not when you’ve spent nearly the same amount of time being his significant other. 

either that, or you were just never meant to escape juyeon’s life, nor rid him from yours. 

maybe now you understand why people do stupid things when they are in love, because they just don’t think it’s stupid. they do it because their heart propels them to do so; they do it because nobody can replace the feeling that this special someone can offer, that only this person can offer.

so when he has you cushioned cozily into the pillows of his bed and your coat and winter wear long gone somewhere, leaving you in just the first layer of clothes you have on, you realise what he’s trying to compensate.

you couldn’t tell if juyeon was just childishly bitter about the fact that you lost your virginity to another man, or that he was still in disbelief about how he treated you back then. 

one thing was for certain though, he is showering you with kisses and caresses that you would’ve otherwise not expected from juyeon. 

the whines and sighs pouring out between your lips sound like a soft lullaby and  he was revelling in the fact that he should’ve given this to you sooner. 

instinctively, your fingers find the rim of juyeon’s top and riles it up, running your skin over the warmth of his skin and smelling more of his cologne when the material brushes across your face as he removes it. 

he looks down at you and his gaze causes goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

they are loving and desperate for love. they are warm and cold with the memory of how you ended. they are full of desire and hungry for validation.

it doesn’t take him long to attach his lips to yours again once he’s done admiring the features on your face; features that he had lost for so long, he was worried he might forget them. 

as strange as it seemed, having him drag your clothes off you only to stop and stare at the shade of your skin makes you feel like you were truly exposed to him. it is alien and it makes you want to shrivel up under him, because he was not the person you slept with.

but before you could hide yourself away from him, he litters kisses all over your skin. your cleavage, your stomach. fingers brushing over the skin of your hips and thighs, encouraging your hand reaching down to look for his face.

when his cheek is brushed with your fingertips, he looks up through his lashes and it feels like this should’ve happened in place of sangyeon. 

the memory of sangyeon providing you the love and affection you needed engulfs you in flames and your chin tilts to the ceiling, silently begging the heavens to provide you enough strength to keep your tears in. 

juyeon, reading your body language, reaches to his nightstand and pulls out a black sash, something that looked like it belonged to his costume when you saw him at the club two weeks ago. 

“hey,” he leans forward and gives you a peck on the lips. pulling you upwards, he wraps his arm around your waist as he sits down. the position confuses you for awhile, until he pulls you onto his lap and lets you sit on his thighs. 

looking down at him while feeling the warmth of his legs under your rear is slightly unsettling; it has been way too long. 

“me saying sorry won’t cut it,” he slides the sash into your hands and brings them up to his face. “so i’m letting you do whatever you want.”

you decide that lee juyeon has lost his mind when he guides your hands and ties the sash around his eyes.

a frown draws itself into your forehead before you realise he can’t see your expression. 

your lips part in a bid to protest, to ask if he’s lost his fucking mind; but juyeon grabs your wrists and plants kisses into your palms.

your stomach is churning and your eyes are tearing up all over again when he starts trailing them down the inner side of your wrists and forearms. the intimacy of this entire ordeal draws a high on your consciousness, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips when he pulls away.

if this is his way of earning validation, then you have no authority to keep him from being validated. 

your palms press flat against his shoulders, gently pushing him backwards until he’s lying down on the mattress with your knees straddling the sides of his hips. 

the scent that you remember wafting through your nose for so long, so long ago is strongest around his neck. fragile memory invites you to that very spot, dipping your nose into his skin and attaching your lips to the spot under where his jaw led up to his ear.

the heavy breathing from his inflated nostrils already sounds like frustration, and it begins to hurt in your chest that juyeon is punishing himself.

he’s letting you do it only because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

your fingers replace the spot where your lips were, and circles of innocent pain draws themselves into his skin. 

his adam’s apple bobs up and down when he gulps, and you try to contemplate your next move. 

it shouldn’t be this difficult.

it really shouldn’t. 

not when he deserves to suffer for what he did.

but you were the one who slept with someone else.

frustration builds up inside you like a pressure flask, or a volcano for that matter. 

juyeon and his affection were the only things you ever wanted.

punishing him would be as good as punishing yourself. even if it was valid, it was, unfortunately, driving a nail through your spine. 

it hurt to let the realisation of his self-punishment sink in. 

“juyeon,” you pull off the blindfold and shake your head at him. “i can’t.”

a muscle in his cheek twitches, and his bare chest heaving up and down under your palms allows you to feel his heartbeat. 

what was this? some dumb game of chess? were you too dumb to let up so easily or was juyeon just too petty about what happened five years ago? it feels like a game of push and pull that was never going to end.

that is, until juyeon opens his mouth. 

“i’m sorry.” 

your eyes dart around his, frantically searching for any sign of pretence or inauthenticity. 

but you are shocked when you see sincerity, and nothing but him wanting to prove himself. 

your heart is racing and thumping so hard, you were sure juyeon could hear it.

it feels like the weight of the world has crashed down on you, at the same time the heavens finally ridding you of the witch that has been peeling your insides and throwing them out of your body in the form of tears. 

the gravity of the apology sinks into you too soon, because you shove your lips between his before you could even process your own actions. 

digging his fingers into your thighs, he pushes you back so you were lying down again, never once breaking the kiss.

you wonder if you were giving in too easily when he slips his tongue through your lips without much effort, but feeling his heart rush against yours is a sensation to be reckoned with.

it does not feel real. it does not feel like you deserve it.

the friction of your pants being pulled off your thighs earns your attention, but he is drinking your moans and feeling you writhe under him. 

the cool air followed by a thud tells you that your pants are on the floor, leaving you in your lingerie and him in his pants. so your fingers run across his biceps and reach south, slightly aggressively undoing his belt. 

sparks fly when juyeon smiles into the kiss. 

oh, how much i missed you. 

he shifts around in a bid to get rid of his pants, breaking the kiss in the process. 

panting and trying to catch your breath from the excessive making out, juyeon slides his arm under you and flips you over carefully.

he doesn’t remove your bra, and maybe it was because he wanted to know he wasn’t doing this because he wanted sex, the way you accused him of it two weeks ago. 

chills run down your spine with every instant his lips are on the skin of your back, and then your inner thighs and you find yourself shaking under him.

not because you were scared, but because this was right. 

the mattress around your legs shift, a finger trails the skin near your core and the air meets your needy wetness you didn’t even realise was becoming prominent. 

the bedsheet gets crumpled in your hands when he pulls it off, lifting your legs for you to remove it. 

then his palms are gripping the back of your thighs and his tongue meets your entrance. 

a hiss runs through your teeth and you shut your eyes.

the bliss is overwhelming, and your entire body was tremoring from the sensation of him dipping his tongue into you. 

his fingers find your sensitive nub, making you pool more for him to lap up. 

just when it becomes too unbearable, he removes himself from your south. burying your face into the pillow, one of his hands grips the flesh of your rear.

it feels like a warm blanket when he leans down, chest against your back and his left arm supporting his weight next to your ear. “tell me if it hurts.”

he greets you at your entrance, prodding slightly and driving inappropriate thoughts into your head as if you weren’t already halfway there. 

so you nod, and he plants a kiss on your shoulder as he pushes into you. 

your temples tighten with the pain when you feel him stretching out your walls, your fingers gripping onto the bedsheet like you were strangling someone. 

his right arm is holding your stomach under you, his lips still leaving lingering dollops of love and care on your shoulders. 

he waits until the look of pain has vanished, and the thrusts start out light because you were still adjusting to him. 

but it doesn’t take long for the small winces of pain to turn into gentle mewls and moans of pleasure. 

you turn and bury your face into the pillow, trying to muffle out your own desperation. 

so it is a surprise when juyeon abruptly pulls out and flips you over on your back, and you provide him one extremely annoyed sigh. 

he smirks at you, and you don’t mind it one bit. 

“nothing to be ashamed of.”

he wraps his legs around his hips as he looms over you, arms on either side of your head against the mattress. the combination of him pushing into you and pressing his lips against yours is of immense bliss and satisfaction.

you have all of him now, and this was meant to be. 

hips hips roll against yours instead of rampant thrusting, so that he could maintain his lips on yours. he was careful and meticulous and he wants you to know that he still loves you.

if that is what he’s doing, he’s doing a damn good job at it.

his hips are grinding against your sensitive nub and the rolling was maximising the friction of his length inside you, so it doesn’t take much for him to help you reach your high. 

“juyeon--”

“i know,” he whispers to you, lips just about an inch away from yours when his eyes dig into your half-hooded ones.

you expected your body to regurgitate all the memories of sangyeon, but nothing comes to mind.

the only person in your head is juyeon, and you had absolutely no problem with it.

he helps you reach your high and your back archs off the mattress as he drinks the pleasure spewing out your throat. 

he pulls out, just after he helps you ride it out, and he releases on your stomach and your thighs with sweat sticking his gelled hair to his forehead. 

your arms slide under his pillows and your chest heaves from the intimacy. it takes you awhile to realise you are staring at his chest and collarbones and face before he crawls back towards you.

he angles his head to kiss you again, this time willingly smiling into the act of affection. 

“does this mean you accept my apology?”

you suck your lips between your teeth when he pulls away, his hands brushing your hair out of your face and stroking your cheek.

“yes,” you nod subtly. “but only if you clean your mess off me.”

juyeon jabs the inner side of his cheek with tongue and looks away for a second.

he leans forward once more, kissing you on the forehead this time. 

“i love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued (final)

[ivyglow]

Thinking ‘bout you | Mat Barzal NYI

A/n: Hey, guys! This request was from the song prompt list that @with-the-words-all-wrong​ tagged me, you can check it on her profile <3. I’m sorry I took too long, but I decided to write a whole ass piece and here it is (and guess what? I hated it lmao). 

- Btw if someone wants to proof read my pieces it would be great, just dm me if you’re interested! 

Word count: 3.3k 

Requested prompt:  10 “Can I see you again and not feel bad about it” & 13 “I liked when you cared about me too”

Summary: Y/n and Mat met through mutual friends and it’s not long before they start hooking up. She’s has a wild spirit, he’s looking for someone to settle down. Is it possible to meet the right person at the wrong time?

Flashbacks in Italic! 

Things started slowly but surely people knew it was coming. Since the first time y/n was introduced to Mat’s circle of friends, everyone noticed the way his eyes sparkled with interest and the way she seemed to reciprocate it. They were both young, reckless and any slight chance of love or affection sounded good to Barzal at that time. He was living on his own, and sure most of his time was at practice or out with his friends, but the home-alone time made him think about some things such as settling or at least going for something more serious than the eventual hookups that he would have. 

Y/n was funny and beautiful. God, was she beautiful.

The first thing he noticed about her was the eyes. On that low lighted bar, her eyes were glowing green in contrast with her skin. She was wearing jeans and sneakers, outstanding everyone. She was so simple, and maybe that was the thing that drew him towards her. The feeling of not caring about what people would think, not being open to doing everything as expected but doing it as you wanted to. 

And maybe, just maybe, it was this exact feeling that made y/n choose Mathew. 

Everyone in her family was expecting her to get into a serious relationship as soon as she landed in New York, but as her friend, Kayla would say “New York it’s not the place to find a lover”, and she was well aware of being on the age of glory. Her early twenties and the freedom of living on her own, paying her own bills something she dreamed of since she turned fourteen. 

She wanted to have fun and Mathew Barzal was definitely a funny guy.

They went to many friends’ meetings before finally taking a step on the obvious sexual tension. That did not mean it was time enough to become best friends, it was time enough to become mutuals. He knew some things about her and she knew some about him. He knew, for example, that she hated when people tried to make decisions for her, she liked independence in every way and damn was y/n mad when their friends tried to pair her with Mat before she could make her mind about it. 

The thing she knew about him was that he liked her and she knew it because he was an obvious guy or at least he was obvious when it came to her. Not in the sweet romantic way, but in a cute and affectionate way. 

Or at least that’s what she tried to remember while things started to escalate quickly with movie nights and nights in, or morning sex. They were getting attached, but it wasn’t what y/n planned at all and she knew she had a short amount of time before she would get attached herself. 

It was a Friday night, she had an average day at work and the guys were celebrating friendship, just the possibility of having their small and closed group whenever they needed. These kinds of celebrations started with Kayla, she was the one always wondering and getting the best of life, pulling her focus towards the small details of life that usually made it better. Her biggest fear was to die without enjoying life, y/n was always down for her ideas and shared a fear that looked a lot like Kayla’s.

They were chilling in Tito’s balcony, drinks in hand, enjoying the feeling of the cold New York air hitting their faces and the noises of the city that never sleeps being drowned by the many floors below. Kayla was telling one of her stories while Mat, Joe, Katy, and Isabela listened carefully. Tito was sitting by them but seemed lost on his own little world, the reason why y/n would sometimes call him ‘dreamy boy’. A random song was playing low on the speakers, but everyone heard when y/n finally arrived.

“Why you always late?” Joe asked before swinging the rest of his beer in a long sip. 

“I’m never late…” she faked confusion before going for the wine bottle. “You guys just always early.” 

Mat chuckled and Kayla rolled her eyes slightly, he liked her so much he even found her shitty jokes funny. Or maybe it was just Mathew, he usually was the first one to laugh, anything was fun to him, almost like he didn’t curse or lost his mind every 5 minutes on the ice.

“That one is old, y/n” Tito finally left his dreamy thoughts and provoked his friend. He loved to joke around with y/n, it was like she had an answer for everything and she also happened to be a great listener whenever he needed a sincere opinion that wasn’t from Barzal. 

“You’re getting old too and I’m not saying that in your face...and Mathew laughed, I would say my jokes are aging well” y/n walked over greeting everyone properly. Barzal was the last one and kiss she left too close to his mouth wasn’t unnoticed by  Anthony. 

“Wanna sit with me?” He asked still holding her by the hand. All the available surfaces to sit already occupied. 

“You mean to say ‘sit on you’?!” 

Isabela that was sitting closer to Mat laughed out loud, “You guys are so obvious…” 

“Are you drunk?” y/n replied back trying to sound nonchalant and sitting on Mat’s tights. 

His hands found its way on her waist and she was a bit impressed at how comfortable it felt to be that close. He was wearing his cargo pants and a grey sweatshirt, hair an aesthetic mess at the top of his head and lips glowing from his beer. 

It was short before Kayla went back to her story and y/n start sipping her wine. 

Mat’s hand would travel up and down her waistline under the soft blouse she was wearing and eventually her left hand found his neck hair. It seemed natural, almost as if the exchange of physical affection were something they did every day, and considering their friends were not chirping or making a huge deal out of the situation it seemed even more common. 

“Are you driving home?” y/n asked when Mat finished his second beer bottle and she was still on her first wine glass. 

He turned to look at her, a slightly confused and curious frown on his face. 

“You’re drinking...I know you handle your alcohol just fine, but drink and drive it’s no good” she explains being more detailed than usual. 

Barzal chuckles before pressing a kiss in her cheekbone, “You look cute when you’re worried.”

“It’s not-” she starts but the look on his face says it all, he already knew. He had her figured out so easily sometimes it was scary. “I just wanna sleep in peace knowing all my friends are fine… I care about you.”

“You wouldn’t have this problem if you sleep with me tonight.” 

And indeed, that was the first night they spent together and it was far to be the last. 

Usually, she would be gonna by the sunrise, but this time y/n was exhausted with work and school and having to deal with her family constantly asking about plans they had for her, besides the physical weariness of a whole sex night with Mat. That morning she woke up not to a silent house, but to a shirtless Mat cooking breakfast while blasting her playlist of favorite songs. 

“Normally I woke up without feeling like it, but Frank Ocean is playing and you’re doing pancakes...although I’m not really sure about how the food is going to turn out” y/n walked in the kitchen catching Mathew’s attention. 

“Good morning to you too” he mocked her, glancing at his oversized shirt that hung her body in a baggy way but still so beautiful. 

“You need help there?” she asked going to the water bottle sitting on the counter.

“This is the last pancake, everything’s ready” he walked away from the stove just to wrap one arm around y/n’s middle. 

She thought to herself that Mat was the whole package, he knew her so well, he even put effort into cooking in the mornings they spent together -which were few, but still- and he was a great listener, although he liked to talk just as much. He was funny and hot, and he could do both so easily it was painful sometimes. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she kept to herself and left their silence to hug their bodies together. His face resting on the crook of her neck and her hands brushing his long locks. 

As soon as the song switched to Lost, y/n’s lips left a loud gasp. Mat would be surprised or confused, but it wasn’t his first time seeing her enjoy her favorites Frank Ocean songs, some he knew the entire lyrics. It was funny to see her wildly dancing and singing as if the world would end anytime soon. And it was those same eyes that made him leave breakfast for good and join her private show. They spent almost thirty minutes stuck on the dance-sing-perform-y/n’s-favorites.

These were the moments where they would be more friends than ever. Sharing the intimacy of the voice of each other and the awkward dance moves, getting to know the songs’ preference, and almost getting a noisy complaint by the neighbors.

And so when Mat started to miss her in the mornings and wish her by his side at night he realized that the intimacy of the moments they spent together could fit as a relationship intimacy as well. Y/n was so easy to be around and she would always have her own way of seeing random everyday things. She liked to go straight to the point too, she hated to lie and hated to left people read one thing when she was trying to say another. That’s why when they started to hookup she told Mathew she wasn’t looking for a lover, she liked him for sure, but being in the years of glory and living in New York wasn’t something she wanted to leave for a relationship. 

After almost four months going on like they used to, Mat thought maybe y/n changed her mind. Maybe she liked him as much as he liked her. 

And she was point-blank when Barzal brought the subject, “I like you a lot, but I love my freedom.” She didn’t try to put much into it, telling him about her problems would only make him built hope, and she knew that maybe by the time she was fine with the idea of a serious relationship she could be in love with someone else or even he could be. Y/n liked Mathew indeed and that’s why she left him. 

Keep it up would only hurt him. 

And so they said their goodbyes without a huge fight, but the silence still hurt just as much.

Mat shifted his focus to the season that was about to start, the travel around and games non-stop would take his mind away from how complicated feelings could be sometimes. Y/n, on the other hand, dived into work and school, however, still gets herself wondering about Barzal and how things would turn out if she said yes to his proposition. She missed him in the simple tasks of the day and had to constantly remind that they were not texting each other anymore and no, he definitely did not want to know about the funny dog that ran to her at the park. 

Nevertheless, they had the same group of friends and when the season ended and so did midterms, it was crystal clear that they would need to face each other again. 

It was a Friday night, just like the first time they spent the night together, and she had an awful day at work, still, Kayle was able to drag her to Tito’s apartment where the small group where reunited. This time it was not one of her best friend random celebrations, it was actually because they spent too long without meeting. 

When they finally reached Anthony’s floor y/n still had no idea how she would talk with Mat. She was nervous. They went from 2 a.m calls to zero communication and the lack of it was the reason why she had no idea how he was feeling, if he was doing fine, if he hated her, if he was ok with keeping the friendship etc. 

Everyone was in the living room surrounded by bottles and snacks while a random pop song was playing on the tv. He was the first face she searched for but was nowhere to be found, and so y/n settled for greeting each of her friends with a warm and tight hug. 

Except for Tito, he was the last one on the sofa line, “where’s my wine, Beau?” 

“Kitchen counter” he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Alright, now I can give you a hug” y/n joked before lowering herself and draping her arms around Anthony’s shoulders.

“Bring me another water bottle too, please” Joe requested when she was making her way towards the other room.

The hardwood floor felt cold against her feet and she enjoyed the feeling, trying to switch her thoughts to something other than why Mathew wasn’t there. But before she was able to, she reached the kitchen and there he was sitting on the stool while working in one of his drinks.

It was like the cold from her feet reached her whole body suddenly and she was nervous again.

Mathew made y/n nervous.

It was new to her and she was torn between trying to figure out more about the unknown feeling or ignoring it by shoving it down her pocket. 

“Hey!” she tried to sound cheerful, but only got a nod as the response.

Y/n couldn’t read him with his eyes away from her, but he seemed a little out of tune. His hair the usual aesthetic mess at the top of his head and his so friendly white sweatshirt. 

She walked over to the freezer reaching the water bottle Joe asked for and then going for the glasses and pouring her so loved wine. 

“For a moment when I walked in and didn’t saw my wine at the coffee table, I thought Tito had forgotten about me” her remark did not bother Mathew that kept working with the lemon and vodka in front of him. The pang on her heart now so much vivid. Maybe he hated her indeed, maybe he was heartbroken after everything they went through. And she couldn’t help but finally let some kind of guilty sink at the top of her stomach. “Can I see you again and not feel bad about it?” 

The thirty seconds of silence were filled with Mat’s breath since y/n was holding hers. 

“What do you mean?” Mat sounded genuinely confused. 

“I mean you ignoring me...I never intended to hurt you, you know?” 

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just out of the area today, my sleep schedule is all fucked up and I’ve been a little grumpy lately, there’s nothing to do with you.” 

She wanted to ask how he was doing, if he were hurt when things didn’t go as planned, she even wished to ask about hockey so he would smile bright and big and keep talking for the next two hours. But instead, she took the wine glass and water bottle, making her away to the living room while holding her heart in her hands too. 

Joe started a conversation about vacation and so it was the main topic for two hours straight, and even though Mat knew a lot about the subject he kept his mouth shut, mainly just listening to everyone while sipping his drink. It was unusual considering Barzal was usually the one who couldn’t shut up, you would always hear him on the friends’ get-together either his loud voice or his laugh. 

Y/n found herself looking at Mat right across her, but she was still able to miss him, cause it didn’t felt like he was there. He was far away in all meanings. 

“There’s something I can do to help?” y/n asked while walking to sit beside Mat in the bed they were, certainly, going to share that night, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to make you feel better, I guess you know by now that it wasn’t your fault.”

Mat was moping since he got home, the islanders had lost and the cherry to the cake was the fact that they lost a home game, and y/n was by his side time enough to know that he absolutely hated to lose this way, but she wasn’t time enough to know how she was supposed to deal with it. She wasn’t in the mood for sex and he sure wasn’t too, however she couldn’t stand the pouty lips and the moody Mat, it gave her heart a little pain.

“You don’t need to say anything” he mumbled underneath the covers. 

“But I want to. I care about you, Mathew.” she insisted. “What can I do?”

Mat had this soft smile in the corner of his lips watching y/n sitting by his side and looking at him as if he was the most important thing to her at that moment. ‘I care about you’ wasn’t an ‘I love you’, but it meant something deep and they both knew it. 

“You can just lay with me.” He gave up scooting to the side and opening his arms for her to lay on top of him. “And stay the night.” 

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” y/n’s lips found Mat’s in a slow and sweet kiss that last only some seconds before her face was on the crook of his neck. 

Everyone was too caught up on the conversation to notice y/n walk to the balcony and sit in one of the big cold chairs, everyone except Mat and it didn’t take long for him to grab a blanket and follow. He knew she was barefoot and she usually was cold at night. Mat knew a lot of things he never thought he would when they first started going out. Yes, he was looking for a lover, and yes he wished with all his willpower to be y/n, but she left him dazed, living each day by its time - as it’s supposed to be -. Maybe that was the reason why in the middle of it all he didn’t stop too much to think about how things were turning in an unknown road...and when he did, it took them to the mess they were living. 

Barzal said nothing as he dropped the blanket around y/n’s body and lowered himself to sit by her side. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled a bit dizzy. 

“No need to thank me, I just still care about you, that’s all.” His voice was low but firm. He didn’t sound spiteful, it was as if he was letting himself to be soft after every solid thing that hit both of them. 

And y/n took the time to process that information. 

Mat still care!!!, her insides screaming in pure joy and confusion, and she felt as unsteady as ever. All the ‘what if’s’ making room inside her thoughts. But ‘What if he still cares, but don’t want anything?' ‘What if things don’t work out?’

“I liked when you cared about me too…” Mat voiced taking y/n’s silence as an answer itself. . 

“Mat, I’m just…” she thought for some seconds more, her head still bubbling with doubts. “I still care about you.”

His head was still low, fingers playing with a random bracelet, he was deep in his thoughts just as y/n. 

“I wasn’t ready to commit, I have so much shit going on and it’s a whole package. A relationship is different from how we were working before. It demands a lot more…I also needed these months to think again and again about it.” She ranted while staring at the building in front of them. “But I still do. I still care about you.”

“I wanna give it a try, the whole package, and everything. I like you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice drowned by the noise of the city, but she was still able to hear him, the soft tone, the truth underneath each word. “Just text me and let me know when you’re ready.” 

She nodded while they exchanged a meaningful look. Truth dripping from each other’s eyes along with affection and a new kind of feeling.

They sat there in silence for some minutes, just listening to the city’s noise and feeling the cold air hit their faces before y/n took her phone typing a simple message and sending it to Mat. He looked at her, a hint of amusement and happiness, and she shook her head yes.

[smolcobie]

Just Work | Kim Mingyu

Summary: After a virus threatens the existence of the human race, you’re forced to work with the mysterious and famous agent black, Mingyu, to save the world. Your biggest philosophy’s that nothing is above your job, but the relationship that arises between you makes you wonder: Is this just work? 

Word Count: 9.1k (it’s worth it, I promise you.)

Warnings and genre: Mingyu SecretAgent!au | violence | suggestive | heavy making out | romance | Potential end of the world.

Feats: Vernon, Woozi, Minghao, Wonwoo, Jun and Seungcheol.

AGENT LIZ, RED CODE.

The message shines in your eyes making you stop your training kicks and punches. After 30 seconds the message faded away, making you sigh. "Another mission, Y/N..." Although you were working for more than 4 years in the MI6 Agency, you still weren't familiarized with this high-quality technology.

You were recruited by accident, you always wanted to be a Cop but it happened that your IQ was way above the average, so MI6 contacted you and trained you until you became one of their best agents.

Your whole physique shivered when you read the last sentence. RED CODE.

There were only 2 times a RED CODE existed, and it was during a terrorist attack and today, so you knew that it was more than a serious matter. It was deadly serious.

You take off your gloves leaving the training room, walking to the central. You don't care about the little drops of sweat on your forehead since it's an emergency. As soon you enter the central you notice the heavy mood-setting there when you analyze the faces of your boss and few colleagues.

"Liz, arrived early today." Agent Wonwoo smiled at you "I was already in the building spending my time in training, different from you that only cares about fooling around." Your ironic tone makes him laugh "Affectionate like always." He finishes your little conversation sitting in his chair.

Wonwoo was one of those agents that only work in this world of violence for fun and spends all his salary on girls and parties. He was a good agent, good looking, always resolves every case before the normal amount of time. He was a good weapon for the company, but everyone knew that the secret weapon was agent black. The one that only a few people got the honor to meet, and you can't help but wonder if he would appear now since it's a red code;

"Agent Lizard, thank you for joining us." Your boss (and legend) Mr.s Jack starts the reunion "Agents, it's the knowledge of you all that today we had a red code. It's been 19 years since we had one and honestly, I'm truly worried." It's the first time you heard something like this from your boss's mouth.

"We have 5 days, 120 hours to save the world from an unknown virus that could disintegrate most of the human race." "What?" Your voice cracks at the end of your sentence.

"We received the information about this mysterious virus called 1XJ. He's modified to adjust inside the body of the host modifying his nature for better results in strength, velocity, and sight. But if the body of the host rejects the virus it can kill a person in less than 24 hours." "How you got the information?" Agent Joshua asks and Mrs. Jack plays a video in front of our eyes "We received this video 10 minutes ago from an unknown source, it disappeared but our IT agents got a copy."

The video starts with a black background and a person with a white mask starts to speak with a robotic voice.

"In 5 days the humanity will face their evolution, only a few chosen humans will continue our procreation. The world will change forever, where the strong ones will build a new paradise and the weak are going to die. If you want to join our cause, prepare yourselves to the final condemnation."

And the video stops. It was offensive to the eye watching such a psychopath thinking he could play with all humanity like some kind of god.

"We are going to send all of you in different missions to solve this problem. Agents this is the future of humanity, don't forget that." She says and you feel sad for a moment "You're all dismissed."

Everyone gets up while Mrs. Jack calls you "Agent Lizard, come to my office."

You follow her feeling anxious for some reason that you couldn't comprehend.

You both enter the spacious white room as she closes the door sitting in front of you resting her hands in the glass table.

"Agent Liz, I need to speak with you."

"Say it, boss." You sit and she sighs.

"I have a special mission for you." "What is it?" She places a confidential document in the table "Read it."

You open the document feeling confused.

"I don't understand, these are dates and mission notes from another agent."

"It's from our agent Vernon, he's wanted all around the world for betrayal." "Why?" "He actually had a mission to verify a mysterious lab from China but he never came back, and another source said he was alive working on some virus and then we received that video."

You are speechless. "You believe the guy in that video is him?" "I don't think is him in the video, but we have our suspicions since he worked in the IT section, but we can't affirm that so that's why I want you to investigate this."

You feel a heavyweight in your shoulders "Why me? You could call Wonwoo." "Unfortunately, he's very known out there, but you're our chameleon no one knows you."

You sigh "It's too dangerous for me to go alone, this is the potential end of the world." Your boss smiles "You're not going alone, I'm scaling someone who can work with you in this special mission."

"Who?" "Agent Black."

A shiver runs down your spine.

"Are you serious? The famous agent black?" "Yes, he already comprehends the situation and you both will start tomorrow."

"I guess I can't say no, right?" "Unless you're not worried about the future of humanity." You take the document and sighs "I accept this mission." "Good to work with you agent, you'll meet Agent Black in our secret district in China in a few hours. A plane is waiting for you outside."

"What about my equipment?" "It's already in your plane. Just go now, you have a long day ahead." "Thank you, boss." "Liz, one more thing" you gulp watching her over your shoulders "Yes?" "Don't fail."

And the rest of the air you had left your mouth.

72 HOURS, 3 DAYS BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD

After a few hours of travel, you arrived at the section in China. You spent hours reading the file over and over again trying to find any gap but you still couldn't understand why Vernon would do something like this.

"Welcome agent Liz in our district, you'll meet agent black soon. Follow us please." "Thank you." You feel a bit nervous about getting to know the famous agent a lot of people in the agency used to talk about.

You only heard rumors about how he works. No one ever got him in a camera, the rumors say he has a unique beauty, a velvet voice that could break the chief of mafia and make him confess their crimes, sweet eyes that hypnotize anyone and lips that could kill without any remorse.

He was powerful but only a few lucky people got to know him, and now one of them is you.

After following the man you entered the secret place built under the floor, he leads you to a big grey room with a big round table and white. "Wait here, the Agent black will arrive soon." The man said bowing making you sit thinking about everything.

"The world ending in 4 days... I can't believe this." You sighed but your attention got stolen from the new presence walking through the door "Hello agent Liz, I'm Agent Black." Your heart made a small clench at the sight of the handsome tall man. "It's my honor, agent." He approached you shaking your hand.

He was... very handsome. Tall, his voice was deeper than you expected but he kinda looked like he was tired. He was dressed formally and you felt a bit envy recognizing the classy clothes from prestigious brands while the clothes you bought were from the incredible sale Target made.

"So you're gonna be my partner? I'm surprised." He smirked sitting in front of you "I don't understand, agent." You eyed him confused "They never send women to work with me" He laughed "It's complicated because they always fall in love with me and compromise the case." You laugh through your nose "Well you don't have to worry about that agent, you're not my type."

You smirk feeling proud of such a lie.

He was totally your type, but being a secret agent means that a normal relationship is not something you would achieve easily. You could die and make the person dangerous any time while working, so you never stopped to think about things like that.

The man in front of you smiled and you looked down to your own file siding it to him so he could take a look. "We're going to start looking for this agent." He viewed the papers furrowing his brows "They think Vernon is behind all of this?" "Yes." "I don't think so." He sighed "It's so obvious, he went missing and people think he's a traitor. It's so classical, I've seen this before."

He said and you smiled "I'm happy I wasn't crazy for thinking this was so weird. I met him, he could never work for something like this, he was the kind of agent that preferred to be working in his computers inside the building instead of going to the field."

Mingyu laughed "He was a good man then." "He isn't dead yet, let's find him first." You got up and he stared at you smirking "You said exactly my thoughts." You sighed "You have any idea where to start looking for him?" "Yes, I have a special contact here in China. Just follow me." "Where are we going?" He got up adjusting his suit "We're going to the center of Hong Kong."

*

"So where are you from?" He asked you breaking the silence while you stopped at the red light during the traffic "I thought secret agents couldn't talk about personal things." The man beside you smirked "Ah... I can see now, you're one of these agents." You turned angrily "What's that supposed to mean?" He laughed.

"You're one of those who don't actually live, just exist for this job." You scoffed "And you don't?" He looked at you briefly before starting the car "I'll let you discover for yourself why I'm the best agent here." He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

You stayed in silence during the rest of the drive. "It's here." You arrived at the place going out of the car walking into a small building that looked abandoned. He jumped the metal fence adorning the place and you followed him.

He stopped in front of a metal door knocking 3 times before a funny guy opened just a small gap asking "What's the password?" "Redbird." The boy widened his eyes opening the door quickly "Come on in, fast." You walked in fast and he closed the door locking everything.

"Mingyu, are you sure it's redbird?" You looked at the agent widening his eyes "Yes Minghao, I'm sure and you just exposed myself." The boy looked at you smiling embarrassedly "Sorry man, I was so shocked." You laughed "Nice name, agent." You grinned "Now you tell me yours." You smirked "If I told you my name, I would have to kill after." He laughed and turned to the boy in front of you.

"Minghao, we need your help. We're looking for a missing agent." The boy put some glasses and walked to his computer. The building was totally different inside, it was way more technological. "Tell me where he was working." "He was uncovered in Tai Wai." You said and got a closer look "Do you know the last place he was seen after he went missing?"

"Mei Tin road." "Okay give me some minutes." The boy that tapped fast on the keyboard impressing you with his ability, he was even better than the people that worked in the MI6.

"He's great right?" Mingyu approached you whispering in your ear sending shivers down your arms "Yes, he's even better than the people in our agency." You whispered back not looking into his eyes "How you met him?" "I saved him." He simply said and you turned to him that was smiling weakly.

"He went missing, the police archived the case and I found him after working in a case about the most wanted drug dealer in Hong Kong." You looked at him impressed "They kidnapped him, and were using his hacker's abilities to send drugs over all China." He sighed "I found the location and arrested the dealer and his men, but Minghao was already presumed dead so I helped him start over here working for me personally. I pay him and everything."

"And isn't it dangerous for him to be here alone?" The man just smirked "He's totally safe here, he's protected by at least 10 secret agents and he's very good in Kung Fu, so he's way better than us." You smiled "I'm happy he's safe here." "Me too, he's like a small brother for me."

To say you were shocked was an understatement, you never thought the great and famous Agent Black was this affectionate towards people.

"Guys I think I found it." Minghao said capturing your attention "Is this the man?" You looked at the images of one small security camera got "Yes..." Vernon was kidnapped just like you expected "I knew something was wrong." You said "It's been 1 month and 2 weeks, he could be dead by now." Minghao sighed and Mingyu smirked "He isn't dead."

"How do you know it?" "I know who captured him, I recognize this van right here." He pointed at the screen and you sighed "So let's go find him now." "Calm down, it's not what you're thinking." He grabbed your arm "Minghao search any formal parties from Wen Junhui." The boy obeyed smiling "You're lucky, he's holding a party tonight." Mingyu smiled at you "I hope you have a nice dress because we're going to a party tonight."

"I can't believe I have to do makeup in a situation of red code." You sighed adjusting your eyelashes "It's the needs of our profession." Mingyu tried to tight his tie "Argh, it's so hard." You looked at him laughing "So the famous Agent Black doesn't even know how to fold a tie." You approach him helping him. You swear you could almost see a small blush in his face "Thank you." He said looking away "Let's go?"

"Yes." You sigh and follow him.

"Minghao thank you for everything." You say bowing to the boy that smiles "It's nothing, it was my pleasure." "Let's go sweet, today you're going to be my girlfriend." Mingyu smirks making you blush slightly "Shut up, let's go." "Bye bro, see you." Mingyu ruffles Minghao's hair and grabs your arm.

You enter the car feeling weird, this mission was nothing like you had imagined.

"How do you know the man that captured Vernon?" You ask putting your seat belt "I'm close to him. In China he's a famous mogul, it's hard to not know Wen Junhui." You eyed him suspiciously "How are you close to the man that literally kidnapped our agent?" "Because he's an agent too, his favorite thing is to capture other agents to work for him for some time." He sighs "He's such a jerk."

"Why don't you arrest him?" He looked at you laughing "Well if you want to be killed or wanted by all agents of China you can do it." Your jaw dropped "Are you telling me that..." "Yes, he's the boss of the secret agency CHN, the official agency of China." "I can't believe this." You sighed in disbelief

"But the thing with Jun, is that he doesn't kill the agents he captures, he just uses them for his purposes." "You think he's the one that wants to kill humanity?" Mingyu laughs at you "Definitely no, if you want to get to know Jun you need to understand 2 things."

"What is it?" "He loves to party and he never misses the opportunity to meet new beautiful agents" He looked at you "Like you." A blush creeps out from your neck to your cheeks, you tried to hide but Mingyu noticed smiling "You're cute." He blurts out and you look at him hitting his shoulder "Ouch! That hurts!"

"Stop joking around we need to focus on our job." He laughs "Okay, madame." You looked at the huge mansion you parked nearby "We just arrived, lady." Mingyu said going out of his car and you felt nervous.

All those years of training and yet you couldn't feel prepared to act like you're his girlfriend.

"Just to you know, Jun will definitely try to impress you with something, but you're my girlfriend for now and we can't let him know about that." He says crossing arms with you "Okay."

You both enter the jaw-dropping place. The lobby was decorated with fine gold fabrics, a huge crystal chandelier in the center, live music and lots of food. People had a unique formality, they were rich people indeed.

"This is so far from my reality." The man next to you laughs "I knew if I told you Jun makes parties like this every week you'd be shocked." Beautiful women around looking at Mingyu was something you expected to see but not so blatant like they were doing. The women there were practically eating him with their eyes.

"Kim Mingyu, what a surprise." A nice man approaches greeting you both and eyeing you from your head to toe "Jun, partying as always." Mingyu smirked quickly "And who's this beautiful lady?" Jun smiles at you "I'm Liz," "My girlfriend." He completed the sentence before you and Jun smiled.

You definitely were surprised at how young and handsome he was.

"I'm impressed at you Mingyu, I didn't expect such a goddess would actually put up with you and your hassles." Mingyu's expression hardened as he slid his arms to grip in your waist "He's not that bad." You smiled softly and Jun snorted "This is good, I hope you enjoy my party. You'll be always welcomed here miss Liz, even when you break up with him."

He smiled and turned around walking out of your presence. Mingyu's hands were red with the force his fists made to stay in place. "It's okay, let's go Mingyu." You said softly his name and he liked being called by his real name for the first time.

"So now that he's gone, let's have some look around here." You said and he agreed "Don't go too far." Mingyu said in your ear making you nervous breaking the touch he had over your waist.

You decided to walk around after picking up some champagne looking around. You noticed quickly that there were a lot of security guards but specifically around this dark corner where people didn't get close. The ceiling had no cameras so you smiled to yourself already making a plan in your head when your thoughts were stopped by Jun.

"Miss Liz, already alone? As I expected Mingyu doesn't know how to value good women." He smiled and you sighed "Mrs. Jun, I'm just looking around since I'm fascinated by this incredible mansion." The man slid a hand through his black hair smirking "Are you into architecture?"

"Just a bit." You smiled and he touched your cheek slightly "I'm sure you would love the architecture around my room." You gently took his hand off "Mrs. Jun I don't think you understood the part that I'm compromised with Mingyu." He grinned "You don't need to pretend with me, any woman wouldn't date him knowing who he is truly... unless" He eyed you suspiciously "Unless?" He approached you smiling "Unless you know who he truly is in real life."

You smirked "Maybe I'm special." The man approached your face "So you know about his failed mission 127." You widened your eyes and Jun snorted "Oh, so you don't know about that..." "What are you talking about?" He looked at you drinking his champagne "Miss Liz I see that you really care about him, so I'll let you discover by yourself." He kissed the top of your hand and walked out again.

You felt nervous but Mingyu pulled you close "You okay?" He looked at you with a caring look and you just sighed "Yeah, just tired of Jun." He smiled and took your hand.

The music was slow so the man looked down at you "Wanna dance?" "It's not time for us to dance." You scoffed feeling nervous because, to be honest, you didn't know how to dance that well "Don't be nervous, we'll dance to take a look at the place" He pulled you close by your waist "Okay."

You looked away putting your hands in his shoulders whilst he looked behind you "You noticed that dark corner right?" "Yeah, there are no cameras either." He smiled "That's great." "I think we should make a plan." He suddenly grabbed your leg bowing your body "I have the perfect plan" his breath fanned your face and your hands slide around his neck "Tell me" he pulled you up "You're going there and try to distract the security, I'll knock them over." He whispered in your ear and you nodded "Okay, let's go."

You approached the corner as if you were looking for the bathroom, you searched briefly the lobby and saw no sign that you were being followed. The corner was dark enough to see, so you walked as if you were lost but quickly took the chance to evaluate the place. There was only 1 door at the end of the small dark corridor, and no cameras.

As you approached the door a voice caught your attention "Miss, you're not allowed here, this is private." A tall man with a black suit stared at you seriously and you looked at him innocently "Oh! I didn't know, I was looking for the bathroom" The man stayed in his place "Follow me, the bathroom is not here." You nodded but when he turned Mingyu knocked him out with his hands "Oh God, Mingyu behind you!" You ran to him and knocked the guy behind.

"Remember me to not fight with you " He commented smiling and you sighed “Let’s go, this door is suspiciously locked.” Mingyu nodded walking first and breaking the door that opened revealing a Dark Room, a PC and Vernon handcuffed.

“Liz? What are you doing here?” He looked at you shocked “I came to save you, and your career.” You untied the boy's knots while Mingyu closed the door pulling the man inside “Who are you?” Vernon stared confused at Mingyu and he smiled “Agent Black, nice to meet you.”

The boy widened his eyes looking at you “What is happening?” “It seems that the world is ending, and people think is because of you.” Vernon sighed stretching his arms and sighed “We need to get out of here, before Jun find us.” Mingyu nodded looking at the corridor seeing no signs of people.

“Liz, we need a suit for Vernon.” Mingyu looked at you smiling “What?” He asked and you just pointed to the security guard unconscious on the floor.

After a few minutes of stripping the guard and giving Vernon time to get dressed, you and Mingyu walked out first. “We’re going to distract Jun and you’ll get out of here got it?” You looked at Vernon that just agreed while Mingyu placed his strong arm around your waist.

You walked through the salon smiling and subtly looking around for Jun that was busy talking with some lady. Mingyu approached him slightly while you gave Vernon the sign to walk away “Oh? Is my favorite couple enjoying the party?” Jun smiled at you that just nodded smiling “Actually, we’re leaving but I loved it.” You answered before Mingyu while Jun smirked “I’m glad you liked it miss, you’re always welcome in my house.” He kissed the top of your hand while Mingyu rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry Mingyu, I won’t steal her away.” He winked and said in Mingyu’s ear “Unless you don’t treat her good.” Mingyu just laughed through his nose and smirked “Don’t worry Jun, I’ll take care of her.” You felt your insides warm-up and just walked away with Mingyu.

Vernon was in the street pretending to talk with a Chinese lady while seeing you both enter a car in front of the building. “I need to go now, but it was my pleasure talking to you.” Vernon kissed the top of her hand running to the car that opened his door so he could enter “Oh my God, please tell me what’s happening.”  

“That’s a long story and we’ll talk soon.” Mingyu said and Vernon sighed in the back of the car.

***

“What is this place?” You entered the secret room of an abandoned building. The funny thing is that the room looked perfect and clean, nothing out of space “My secret home here in China.” He sat on the bed while Vernon gulped harshly the water from the filter that was stuck to the wall.

“So, let me understand one thing. I’m wanted for betrayal after getting kidnapped, the world is ending and you’re the famous agent black?” He looked at Mingyu that just nodded “We’re screwed.” He laughed sitting on the chair that was beside the bed “Why am I going to prison? I don’t understand.”

You sighed and explained the situation to Vernon from the beginning. “Okay, so they think I did this? This is ridiculous I was doing my job when I got kidnapped.” “I Know. I told our boss this didn’t make any sense so here we are.” You smiled weakly and crouched in front of the boy “We need to know everything you discovered, you’re our only chance to make this mission possible.”

“Look, before I got kidnapped, I was investigating a lab here but they didn’t have anything suspicious but they had someone interesting.” “Who?” Mingyu asked crossing his arms in front of his chest “I need a computer so I can show you.” You picked the laptop in a table next to you and gave it to him.

“While I was investigating this man, I discovered he was a scientist working on a strange virus that could be extremely dangerous.” He tapped fast on the computer and turned to show the face of the man “This is him. His name is Lee Jihoon, he wasn’t working on this alone. But when I was this close to discovering his boss, Jun kidnapped me.”

“Do you know where he is now? Or where he could be?” You asked and he nodded “Thankful to Jun, I could track him while I was there. He wanted me to hack security cameras and look for new agents so I know where he is today.” Mingyu smiled “Good job agent.” “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to take a shower because I stink.” Vernon smiled and locked himself inside the bathroom while you sighed walking to the small living room next to the room.

Since it was a closed building it didn’t have windows so there were large screens showing different scenarios “You like it?” Mingyu asked you and you sighed sitting on the sofa “It’s nice.” You commented resting your head against the sofa sighing “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe there’s this crazy guy who likes to think he’s some kind of god.” Mingyu sighed and sat beside you “I know right? This is crazy.”

“You know I was thinking…” You started a conversation looking at the green forest in the screen “About?” He looked at you tenderly “What if we fail? What if everyone dies in the end? I didn’t do much in this life.” You confessed feeling your chest tight “I lived for this job and I couldn’t say it was worth it. In the end, we’re going to die and I didn’t have a normal life like I always wanted.” You stared at him.

“I never told anyone this, but I just wanted to be a cop, have a nice house and travel to Hawaii on vacations like my friends from college.” He laughed a bit “I understand, I was like that too once.” “And now I don’t even know if we’re going to survive and I just realized… I lived nothing.” 

Mingyu smiled sadly at your confession “You wanna know my secret?” You nodded and he grabbed your hand caressing the top with his thumb “Do you feel this?” “Yes...” You were confused “You need to remember that you’re human. You have emotions, sensations… feelings.” He stared at you deeply “That’s my secret, even on missions I always like to remind myself that I’m not a machine. I need to live like a human, have friends, fun and try to enjoy every day.”

“What's the point to save humanity if you can't live and feel like a human?” You confessed feeling your throat dry “It’s not too late, you can make everything different.” He stared at you and you sighed “You spent all this time saving people so they could live, you can enjoy your life too. You deserve it.” He said lowly while you smiled “You could be a nice therapist if you weren’t a secret agent.”

He just giggled and ruffled the top of your head “Thanks Liz.” He answered and you felt the urge to open yourself for real “Y/N.” You said and he looked at you confused “What?” “Y/N. That’s my real name.” He grinned happily “That’s a beautiful name.” He squeezed your hand making your cheeks red “I know.” You boldly stated smirking.

“I’m out!” Vernon interrupted both of you “The bathroom is clean.” Mingyu smiled at you dropping your hand “I’m going to take a bath too. You can rest here.” You just nodded missing the warmth of his hand on yours.

You closed your eyes resting your head int the arm of the sofa while looking at the scenarios. The peace and the silence made you drowsy so you soon fell into a deep sleep without noticing.

* 

You woke up harshly by the sounds of something breaking and widened your eyes when you saw a man tied in the chair inside the room with his mouth taped. “What is this?” You looked behind you and saw Mingyu smirk “Sorry, you were sleeping so beautifully so Vernon and I kidnapped Jihoon.” You looked at the man that seemed afraid “The scientist?” “Yep.” Vernon appeared and took off the tape harshly “OUCH!”

The man complained “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“We have a lot to talk, Mr Jihoon.” You crossed your arms “Do you know what is the 1XJ virus?” He widened his eyes “H-How did you…” Mingyu who had 0 patience kicked his chair “Answer the question.” The man just nodded sighing “Look I know what you’re thinking, that I made the virus to kill everyone but it’s a lie.” He started to explain “I was studying the way virus change and evolve but one agent made me work for him. He said if I didn’t pass to him my search, he would kill me, I had no choice!”

“Who forced you?” Vernon asked “I-I don’t know his name, but he’s Korean. He had black hair and was working with 2 agents, one from MI6 and the other from AIK.” You looked at each other “Do you know where they could be now?” “The only option I can think of is Paris, I remember they were saying something about Eiffel tower being the essential point.”

“What should we do to kill the virus, or stop this?” Mingyu asked and Jihoon smiled sadly “You can’t, the virus is immortal.” He said and you sighed “There’s no such thing, WE NEED SOMETHING OR ELSE WE’RE GOING TO DIE.” You screamed and the man trembled.

“OKAY! There’s only one cure.” He confessed “But it’s in the lab I worked, but they have incredible security there.” “I want the location and the name.” Mingyu grabbed the chair arms and stared at the man’s eye “It’s here in China, you have only one bottle. It’s a gold liquid if you mix them together the virus dies immediately.”

“We have a chance.” You looked happy at the boys that smiled “But we need to go to Paris, we can’t waste our time.” Mingyu said freeing the man “You’re coming with us.”

The man sighed relieved.

48 HOURS, 2 DAYS BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD

“You got everything?” Mingyu spoke in the mic while Vernon used a computer inside the van “Yes, we have approximately 10 minutes to grab the liquid before their alarm and cameras work again.” “Perfect, Liz you ok?” “Yes.” You fixed your sexy dress while waiting for the sign to distract the security guard “Now!” Vernon said and you started to walk like you got lost.

You approached the man in the suit in front of the building “Hello? Do you speak English? I’m lost.” You said in a velvet voice showing your leg slightly while holding the end of your dress. The man just smirked looking at your figure “Yes, a bit.” He answered interested while Mingyu got inside the building through a window at the balcony “I was looking for a party you know? I think it’s a club, I-I don’t know the name.” You made a sad face while Mingyu smirked to himself.

“Never thought you could have such a façade.” He mumbled to himself while he followed the directions Jihoon gave through Vernon.

“Look lady, there’s no club here. I think you’re mistaken.” He said approaching you slightly “But we can go somewhere if you want.” He whispered staring at your cleavage shamelessly.

“8 minutes Mingyu.” Vernon warned the boy that was close to the vault “I’m almost there, I need the password.” Jihoon sighed “Oh no, I can’t remember clearly.”

“Man, we’re screwed.” Vernon mumbled while you tried to smile without punching the security face.

“Tell me your name, princess.” He touched your cheek and you almost puked right there “My name is Kate.” You touched his suit “And yours?”

“I NEED THE FUCKING PASSWORD VERNON?” Mingyu stared at the round door that had 5 cameras around filming it. “JIHOON?” Vernon looked at him that was scrunching his face “TRY 2019.” He said and Mingyu clicked but it was red.

“Still red.” Mingyu looked at the time. 5 MINUTES “SHIT 5 MINUTES JIHOON, C’MON.” He whispered nervously.

“My name is Yukhei, nice to meet you.” The security smiled looking at your face “So what’s the secret?” You said trying to communicate with the boys that were desperate “I don’t have any secrets, princess.” The security guard said sweetly and Mingyu snorted.

“If he says princess one more time, I’ll shoot him.” Mingyu said and you smiled at yourself.

“I REMEMBERED! TRY 1713.” Jihoon screamed at the mic making Mingyu wince at the sound.

“Damn, don’t need to scream like that.” He clicked the password until it got green. “Thank God it worked!” He sighed picking up the gray suitcase and replacing it for another. “1 MINUTE MINGYU! GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!” Vernon screamed and Mingyu closed fast jumping out of the building.

“So… since you’re working now, I don’t want to trouble you sir, so here is my number.” You gave the security a paper with random numbers and your fake name “Call me anytime.” You winked and he smiled “I will.” You walked out of there sighing relieved.

After a few minutes, a black van stopped in front of you “Good job, Kate.” Vernon sarcastically said and you rolled your eyes “I don’t wanna talk about this ever again.” You mumbled angrily while Mingyu smirked beside you “Give me your number, Kate.” you just pushed him.

“Let’s go to Paris then.” Vernon said relieved and Jihoon panicked “Me too?” “Obviously, unless you want to die.” Mingyu stared at him that sighed.

*

“Me and Jihoon are going to find a particular plane for us, you guys watch the suitcase.” Mingyu nodded and you ran to the bathroom so you could take a bath and change to comfortable clothes. “Alright.” Mingyu said and put the suitcase on top of the table in his room.

He opened carefully seeing a small bottle with a yellow liquid. “I hope you work fine, I’m not ready to die yet.” He chuckled and closed the suitcase.

You walked out of the bathroom sighing happily with your clean face “I’m finally free.” You sat on top of the bed while Mingyu stared at you smirking “You’re a nice actress.” He smirked and you grinned rolling your eyes “It’s not like I have another choice, I’m a secret agent I need to be good at this.” Mingyu got up rolling his sleeves up showing the veins of his arms “You’re right. In the beginning, I was nervous too but I got good after a few missions.”

You looked at him smiling “You too? I thought you were always good at this…” You said without thinking and he grinned showing his full smile “I’m flattered but I had my hard moments too…” You remembered what Jun said about a 127 mission and asked him with the rest of the courage you had in you.

“Hey Mingyu… What happened in mission 127?” You asked directly making him stare at you failing his smile “Who told you about this mission?” “Jun.” He sighed and sat beside you running his hand through his hair.

“It happened last year. I had a partner, his name was Seungcheol.” He started speaking with a melancholic tone “Basically, our mission was to catch a killer wanted by INTERPOL, he was planning a terrorist attack in Korea.” “So, what happened?” Mingyu looked at you biting the insides of his cheek.

“We found his secret hiding on the roof of a building, he had the button to explode a bomb that would hit a huge building and kill everyone there.” He took a deep breath “So when we got there, Seungcheol fought him and broke the button, but the guy shot against me and that’s when he protected me.”

You could feel him getting emotional “Seungcheol stayed there, I ran after the man and I…” He looked away from you “Killed him.” He sighed “I never wanted to kill the guy, I wanted to make him pay for his crimes, but because of Seungcheol I lost my mind. I punched him so hard that he couldn’t resist it.” You touched his shoulder and he looked at you “I’m not the great guy everyone says.” He felt his eyes water but quickly winked.

“It’s not your fault, I’d have done the same thing as you.” You stared at him “You’re just… human.” He smiled sadly closing his eyes “After that, Seungcheol didn’t resist, his doctor said that his last words were: Live a good life, Mingyu.” “And you started to live properly.” You completed his sentence and he nodded “Yes, I started to live like he wanted me too. In the end, he was right.” He stared at you “That’s why I’m telling you, don’t waste your life.”

You just smiled touching his cheek caressing a little “Well, we have 2 days before the world ends, I don’t have a choice, right?” He grabbed your wrist kissing slightly “Good choice.” He whispered pulling you towards him, his breath fanning your face and your eyes closing but unfortunately got interrupted by Vernon and Jihoon entering the house.

Mingyu got up sliding his hand through his hair while you sighed adverting your eyes.

“So, I found our plane. Are you guys ready to speak French?” Vernon entered the room looking at you smirking “What’s with this mood? Did I interrupt something?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you just smiled “Shut up Vernon, let’s save the world.” You said and Mingyu smiled side hugging Vernon and Jihoon “Let’s go, Paris.”

24 HOURS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

Thankfully to Vernon, you arrived at Paris without any problems. The plane was fast, unique and first-class. You could have a few hours of sleep, eat a portion of decent food and think of a plan to stop the enemy “So, let’s review our plan, one last time.” Vernon sat on your bed at the closest hotel from Eiffel Tower. 

“Jihoon and I are going to trace elements that could lead us to the signal from the enemy.” You nodded “Mingyu and you are going to go up the Eiffel Tower and destroy the main virus when I finish hacking their system.” 

“So this is it, finally.” Mingyu sighed and Vernon smiled “Yeah, but I need to hack this hotel wi-fi, or else we aren’t going to make this work. We’re lucky that my partner Joshua is here in Paris to help me.” Vernon picked up his phone and sent Joshua a message.

“Me and Jihoon are going to the last floor, you stay here and get ready, we’re leaving in a few hours.” Jihoon looked at you “I recommend you guys use a special coat, if something goes wrong you can’t touch the virus with your skin or you’ll get infected.” You nodded “Don’t worry, I prepared everything in our plane.” You answered and they smiled.

You went to your bag searching for the items while Vernon pulled Mingyu aside and whispered lowly so he could be the only to hear it “I’ll give you 3 hours, so please don’t waste our time and be smart.” He smirked at the red face Mingyu made “Thanks buddy, I’ll compensate you after we save the world.” He shook his hand while they left the room.

You spread all the guns and equipment you brought from China. You looked at everything before choosing your favorites.

“Having fun?” Mingyu sat in front of you using his elbows to sustain himself “If you think choosing guns so we can save the world is fun, then sure.” You laughed not looking at him picking up the bullets and charging all guns.

“Staying with you, I think is fun.” He whispered and gave you a small smile. You looked at him laughing through your nose “You really have the time to hit on me in times like this?” He pulled you by your wrist gently “Yes, I can take some time for you.” You bit the interior of your cheeks “What are you doing Mingyu?” He hugged your waist trapping you in his embrace while looking at you “Why rush ourselves? We have time, Vernon and Jihoon are not here.”

Your heart beatings speed up “You’re such a playboy.” Your hand caressed his hair “Is that what you say to the female agents you worked together?” You sarcastically stated and he sighed “No, I don’t say that because I never liked them.” He spoke honestly pulling you to his lap.

“You’re the only one I got interested.” He smiled and you looked down at him “And you expect me to believe you?” You laughed through your nose “You could be a good liar.” He sighed grabbing your thighs “Why don’t you judge me then?” His lips brushed against yours “Tell me if I’m lying.” He grabbed your hips and you smiled “Okay.” You could feel his hot breath in your face.

He licked his bottom lip quickly before leaning in and kissing you softly. Your left hand grabbed his shoulder to stabilize yourself while you roamed through his hair with the other one. His lips slide slowly over yours as if you’re the most precious thing in the earth, you pressed your body against his kissing harder.

He pressed his lips against your jaw sighing softly when you pulled his hair towards you closing your eyes. Your throat being marked with his thick lips making you smile.

“Mingyu, the world’s going to end.” You tried to speak but he shushed you entering his tongue in your mouth harshly putting you down in bed “I’m sorry, but I won’t forgive myself if I don’t do this now.” He climbed on top of you pushing your guns aside. You touched his warm cheeks with the palm of your hands while you stared at his perfect face “You’re so hot.” You confessed and he laughed “I thought you said I wasn’t your type.” He pressed his lips on your again “I lied.” You said pulling him to you.

Your moment soon got interrupted by the ring of Mingyu’s cellphone.

“Ughh, not now.” He got up picking up the mobile looking at the name ‘Vernon’ “What is it?” He mumbled angrily while you fixed your hair and clothes “I’m sorry man, I know I promised 3 hours a least but it’s an emergency.”

“What is it?” Mingyu put on speakers so you could listen “We hacked the wi-fi and apparently they discovered that we’re here already. They’ll release the virus before we expected, we need to get out now.” Vernon screamed and you looked at Mingyu desperately.

“C’mon Y/N, let’s save the world.” He said extending his hand to you that grabbed happily “Yeah.” You smiled putting on your bulletproof vest.

*

Vernon drove the van like it was a race. You and Mingyu were the first ones to escalate Eiffel Tower, while Vernon and Jihoon asked for reinforcements.

“Don’t forget what Jihoon told you, try not to be seen. I’m going to distract the enemy and you’ll destroy the virus.” You nodded and Mingyu looked at you one last time “What is it?” He just kissed you quickly and smiled walking first to your hiding.

As you expected the enemy was at the top, his agents too. the sight took your breath away, it was Wonwoo there. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed the entire corporation. You looked at Mingyu that was shocked, he was stunned and couldn’t move.

You touched his shoulder and he swallowed hard nodding. He got up and picked the other agent using him as a hostage. “If any of you move, I’m going to kill him.” He said putting his gun against the back of the man.

The enemy smirked and looked at Mingyu “Nice to see you again, Mingyu.” He laughed while Mingyu had tears in his eyes “Seungcheol. I thought you died.” You got frozen by the name. Seungcheol... his partner wasn’t dead?

“Yeah, I know. I bet it sucked for you, but I never died, and that shot was fake too.” He approached Mingyu smiling sarcastically “Meet my true partner: Wonwoo. He’s the one that planned everything with me, it was perfect.” He looked at Mingyu “Sorry you killed that man, but I’m glad you’re here so you can see the revolution we’re going to make.” Mingyu snorted.

“You’re a psychopath, I can’t believe I cried over you.” He pressed the gun further on the agent “I’m not joking, I’ll kill him.” Seungcheol and Wonwoo laughed “You can kill him if you want, I don’t mind.” The agent was terrified and you could tell by looking at him.

“Dino isn’t essential for this anymore. I got the key right here.” He showed the button on his hands while Wonwoo had the bottle of the virus plugged on his case “If you give one step, I’ll click this button and everyone will die.”

“Who are you? What you did to my best friend?” Mingyu said with remorse in his voice “I never was your best friend, but I admit it was fun working with you.” You took advantage of the talk and approached them silently. You were behind Wonwoo but they couldn’t see you.

“Well, the talk was great but now I have a duty. Bye Mingyu.” Seungcheol said while Mingyu whispered to Dino “You have a chance to change your destiny right here.”“I don’t think so baby.” You said shooting at Wonwoo’s leg grabbing the case. Mingyu released Dino that shot Seungcheol in his hand.

You grabbed the bottle with the cure and broke into the bottle with the virus making Seungcheol scream “NO!” Mingyu kicked him into the ground while you knocked Wonwoo out. Dino grabbed the control with the button and shot through it making it useless.

Mingyu approached Seungcheol looking at him “Are you going to kill me like you did to that man?” He said sarcastically and Mingyu just punched his face making his mouth bleed. “I’m not the kind of man that commits the same mistake twice.” He handcuffed Seungcheol while Vernon and all the team arrived right after.

“I guess you didn’t need me after all.” Vernon joked while the agents arrested the boys there. Mingyu approached Seungcheol one last time “I hope you live a good life in prison.” He whispered and the boy just smirked “Jerk.” And the man took him while you ran to Mingyu to hug him.

“We did it! We saved the world!” You sighed relieved while Mingyu kissed the top of your head “Everything’s going to be fine.”  He sighed and you gave one last look to Wonwoo “I knew I was better than you.” You said while he limped because of his leg.

And that’s how you saved the world in less than 5 days.

*

“Agent Liz, I’m glad you could complete your mission. Honestly, I was shocked when I heard Wonwoo and Seungcheol were involved in this.” Your boss sighs while you smile a bit “I think you deserve a few days off, what do you think?” She asked you smiling and you nodded relieved “I’d love it.” You shook her hand and walked out of her office.

“Hey! Liz, where are you going now?” Vernon shouted and you looked at him “My home, take a good shower and sleep probably. Why?” He searched his pockets until it found an envelope “This is for you.” He smiled and walked away when you grabbed the letter.

 From: Mingyu

To: Y/N

 You laughed when you saw how cute it was written. It was an address and the number of a room with a key in it. “He’s such a playboy.” You commented walking out of your agency.

The hotel wasn’t hard to find, it was one of the most expensive in your region. You laughed at yourself just thinking about the kind of things Mingyu was preparing for you to get there. You parked your car and entered the place showing your key, which the staff guided you to the elevator.

You clicked the ‘10’ button floor and waited the doors close. Inside of you, you could feel your entire body shivering in anticipation since you didn’t saw him since that day in Paris. You missed him more than you expected.

The door opened and you walked to the room your key indicated.

1056 – You stared at the number before using the key to open the door. You took a deep breath and entered the place.

The first thing that came to your vision was Mingyu looking at the windows with his social outfit. “So you really came.” He mumbled turning to you with his hands inside his pockets “Of course. I wanted to know what you want from me.” You spoke softly fixing his tie “You still don’t know how to make your tie?” You asked while he just stared at you.

“I thought you would ignore me.” You lifted your eyes and smiled “Why would you think something like that?” you whispered while he pulled you close by your waist “I don’t know… Maybe you just liked the adventure, but not me.” His nose touched yours “Are you saying you like me?” 

You giggled and he hid his face in the crook of your neck “What do you think?” He pecked the skin and you smiled to yourself “I think I need to judge it.” You whispered to his ear and he smiled picking you up.

He placed you on the bed gently “Now the world isn’t ending.” He smirked and you caressed his face “So what you gonna do about it?” You boldly asked making him smile.

He just kissed you hovering over you while your hand went to his hair. His hands explored the skin inside your blouse and you messily tried to unbutton his white shirt. “I’m glad I saved the world with you.” He said sucking on a sweet spot behind your ear “M-Me t-too.” You could barely speak while his lips traveled from your neck to your collarbones.

He took his shirt off making you blush from the view. “Like what you see?” He asked you while you just gave little pecks to his face roaming your hands on top of his shoulders. “You’re so handsome.” You whispered and he smiled “Thanks.” He whispered on your ear kissing it “You’re pretty too.” His lips were so soft that you thought how unfair it was. Your fingers explored his perfect jaw making you smile into the kiss.

He smirked sucking on your bottom lip sending shivers down your spine.

You took off your blouse and skirt, making his ears red. He kissed you deeply touching every skin possible. He gave you small pecks showing you affection and care, something you didn’t felt for a long time. The way his scent filled your nostrils made you weak.

After that, you knew you wouldn’t get over this man easily.

 1 YEAR LATER

Sunrays through the window make your eyes open slowly, your whole body is warm by the body next to yours. Mingyu’s arm still tight around your waist and his breath hitting the nape of your neck. You turn around slightly afraid you would wake the man up, but smiled seeing the cute pout that he does unknowingly whenever he sleeps. Your right-hand touched his cute cheek caressing a little making you laugh.

You stretched your arms and saw the ring of your left hand making you smile. If someone told you that you would save the world and marry agent black you’d have laughed, but life was good to you.

“Babe…” He mumbled opening his eyes a bit “Come here, I want to cuddle.” He smiled and you leaned towards him kissing his nose “You’re such a big baby in the morning.” “Yes I am, come here.” He pulled you by your waist hugging you “I love you Mingyu.” You said sincerely making the boy smile “I love you too.” He pecked your cheek and put his face in the crook of your neck while you caressed his hair.   

 You sighed happily at the vision and closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of peace.

“I guess it wasn’t just work after all.” You mumbled to yourself smiling. 

.

.

MASTERLIST

[dhwty-writes]

Flowers

Welcome to my probably favourite chapter of the whole fic. Have fun reading, guys! Again, this is for @thewitchersecretsanta for @heyabooboo.

Summary: Jaskier enters the netherworld in his search for Geralt's soul. He has been prepared for a lot of things, mostly monsters straight out of nightmares. Talking birds and flowers? Not so much.

Moodboard by the amazing @petrificustotaluss

Warnings: none

Read on AO3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 

Jaskier sat on the soft bed, slowly unbuttoning his doublet as he tried to ignore the warnings his brain shouted at him. He really couldn’t use any second thoughts right now. 

“Get comfortable,” Triss had said before closing the door behind him and he really was trying. It wasn’t that he had real doubts about what he was about to do. In fact, he had rarely been so sure about anything in his entire life. 

Still, Jaskier knew that it was insane. How could he not, despite his earlier statement he wasn’t stupid. He had gone to Oxenfurt, after all, and quite successfully so if he did say so himself. And endangering your life by entering a netherworld almost no-one ever returned from for your best friend who you were secretly in lo- well, that was entirely besides the point. The point was, that what he was about to do was the height of stupidity, and that he was well aware of it.

Not that he’d change his mind. He was, after all, stubborn as a mule with no sense of self preservation whatsoever. 

He folded up his doublet and deposited it on the chair Yennefer had put next to the bed. He took his time with his boots as well, unlacing them almost all the way before neatly placing them under the chair. 

Jaskier turned back to the bed and couldn’t help but stare at it. “Alright,” he muttered. And then again, because he hadn’t convinced himself yet: “Alright.” He heaved a heavy breath, bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking out his arms as he did before his performances. In a way, the dread that filled him was quite similar. He supposed. 

He kept staring at the bed. It was a nice bed, as far as beds went. Large. Soft, cream-coloured sheets. The kind of bed he’d like to share with a lover. ‘A nice deathbed, as well,’ he caught himself thinking. He really should get on it. Somehow, he couldn’t. “Fuck.” 

“Alright, bard?” Yennefer’s voice sounded from the door. 

“Yeah. This is weird.” How did one lie down in the bed where one might die? He had never thought he might actually be able to choose. If he was quite honest, he’d always supposed that he’d die all on his own someday, bleeding out in a ditch. Or in Geralt’s arms, confessing his eternal love with his last breath, if he was feeling especially romantic and melancholic. But never wrapped in clean, linen sheets without so much as a scratch on him.

She guffawed. “Weird. And you call yourself a poet?”

“Hm.”

Her boot heels clacked loudly on the parquet as she drew closer. “What are you thinking about?”

“Do you-” He laughed nervously. “Do you really want to know?”

“Normally not.” Well. At least she was being honest. “But since this might be our last conversation, I’ll go with yes.”

“I owe you an eternal debt of gratitude,” he joked. To his relief, she chuckled at least. “You see, it’s really quite stupid.”

“It has to be.” She came to a halt next to him and crossed her arms. “Coming from you.”

“Yes, yes, mock me all you want. The thing is, I don’t know if I should get on the bed or in the bed.”

She blinked dumbfounded. “That’s your biggest concern?”

“Momentarily, yes.” And that only because he didn’t allow himself to think about anything else. 

“You know, you should probably have very different second thoughts.” He didn’t dignify that with an answer. She sighed. “You also know you don’t have-”

"Don't," he interrupted her with a pained grimace, "make me change my mind."

"Jaskier-"

"No, Yennefer.” He turned around to face her. “I want to do this. I want to bring him back. At least I have to try."

They just stood there, staring at each other for a long time. Jaskier was not going to lose that battle. "Go lie on the bed,” she gave in. “It’ll feel less awkward.”

It was ridiculous how easy it was all of a sudden to sit down and scoot to the middle of the bed, lying down on the soft cushions. Once he got settled, she was still standing there at the foot of the bed, looming over him. “You know what?” he began. “This is very awkward. Reminds me of-”

“Rinde, I know,” she interrupted him. Her face was dark and clouded, her features unreadable. After a few moments she said: “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“Yennefer-”

“Don’t you Yennefer me, bard. I dealt with Geralt almost losing you once. Don’t make me console him when you’re actually dead.”

He wanted to tell her how stupid that was. That Geralt wouldn’t be coming back if he didn’t come back as well. Else what was the point of any of this? But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to say that. “I’ll come back,” he said instead.

She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but in that moment Triss called from the hallway: “Are you done, yet?”

“Yes,” Yennefer decreed and swept out of the room.

“Alright, then,” Triss said and closed the door behind her. “Let’s get this over with.” She sounded almost bored. “As your primary healer I am obligated to tell you that this is not only dangerous but downright lethal. And the absolutely most idiotic thing I have ever seen someone do and I have been a healer longer than you have been alive. If you die, you are not allowed to haunt me; I reject any responsibility for this. Got it?”

He gulped. “Got it.”

“Good. So, give it to me one last time. I make you fall asleep. Then what?”

"I will wake in the netherworld, where I will have to confront unspeakable horrors. I will brave the trials and tribulations that are necessary to reach Coram Agh Tera. On my search for Geralt I will speak to no-one, I won't utter my name, nor that of any other mortal."

"And when you have found him?"

He hesitated. They hadn't actually talked about that point. Finding Geralt in an endlessly large world of nightmares seemed impossible enough. He put on a brave smile which he knew wouldn't fool Triss. "Why, then I'll work my bardic charm to get whatever atrocious entity that's holding him captive to release him." He pulled off both his boots and went to lie down on the bed.

"Good enough," Triss muttered and stepped closer. "Close your eyes, Jaskier, and think of something sweet."

He did as he was told, slowly feeling his consciousness drift away as she began weaving her spell. 

Weirdly, it was Yennefer’s voice he heard next: "Good luck, bard. Bring him back to us." Hadn’t she left? Hadn’t she-? Hadn’t-

In the sluggish mass of his mind, he registered how strange that was. He wanted to ask who 'us' were. If he might be included. But he didn't dare. He wanted to answer something about returning with Geralt or not at all. But he was so tired.

"Sweet dreams," a voice from far away breathed.

Usually, when falling asleep, there is a certain amount of time that passes before people start dreaming. It could be a matter of hours or seconds; not that they are aware, of course. For them, that moment lasts but the fraction of a heartbeat, for they have no recollection of their slumber before or after their dreams. Most of them do not even remember those.

Once the sorceresses began weaving their spell, however, Jaskier saw that moment stretch out before him. It was an easy thing for him to, without so much as moving a single muscle, take a step. And another one. And then, let himself drift into that dark realm of uncertainty.

And so, he did.

In his, admittedly still rather short life, Jaskier had woken in all kinds of peculiar places. The beds of strangers most frequently, but also on tavern counters, beneath stages he couldn't remember playing on, covered with monster guts, covered with bandages, and, on one very memorable occasion, in a witcher's arms.

But this? This certainly and by far was the weirdest one of them all. 'The sky is the wrong colour,' was the first thing he noticed once he woke up. Instead of the soft blue he was used to, it was glaringly orange, as if eternally stuck in sunset. Only lacking the sun.

In all fairness, he wasn't quite sure if his current condition could be called 'awake'. Oh, well; he'd have to make do. How was a mortal supposed to describe a realm that defied both bounds of rationality and reality at once; a realm of gods that was never supposed to be graced by them, neither in this life nor the next?

The answer to that, of course, is as simple as it is obvious: they aren't. They aren't supposed to be there, they aren't supposed to understand it and mortals most certainly aren't supposed to tell tales of the netherworld.

Yet, one of them had entered it and he was currently struggling not to grin like an idiot as he took in his strange surroundings. Bards are a very strange subset of people, with more imagination than could be healthy for mortals. Weirdness doesn’t—mustn’t!—deter them, for they are weird themselves. One could call in an occupational requirement. And of all the strange bards in this world, this one’s certainly among the stranger ones. 

A quick glance around revealed that the sky wasn't the only thing with an unusual colour. In fact, everything around him seemed slightly off. The trees were purple, the mountains in the distance blue, and the clouds gathering above them black. Not the kind of black that clouds tended to be in his world as well, but pure, all-consuming, nothingness. It made goosebumps rise on his arms. The grass with its pink tint under his bare feet set him on edge, as well.

He had never quite fit in: always too loud, always too vibrant, always too different. But a world like this, where he was almost mundane in comparison? Why, Jaskier was having a field day. 'Focus, Jaskier,' he kept telling himself. He had a mission, after all. 'Look for clues.'

But him standing with nothing but his lutecase on a pink field seemed to be the only thing that stood out among all the oddities. 'Oh,' he realised belatedly, 'I'm naked.' A strange feeling crept up on him, a feeling that he should feel embarrassed about it. But then again, there was no-one around. Besides, this wasn't real anyways.

'Well, nothing to be done about that,' he decided and re-adjusted his lutestrap as he weighed his options. There was the periwinkle forest to his left, or the cerulean mountains to his right, with the fuchsia expanse dividing the two. He did not look back.

He was currently debating whether or not he should flip a coin while wondering where he might acquire one given his pocket-less state of undress, let alone one with three sides, when his thoughts were interrupted by the cheerful melody of a lark.

Jaskier craned his neck to search for it among the purple foliage. It wasn't exactly difficult to find, one of the two things he was rather glad for. The other being that it looked perfectly normal.

It opened its beak again and Jaskier leaned forward, to hear the sweet sound once more. "What’re you starin’ at?" the bird asked with a gruff voice that rather reminded him of one grumpy witcher he was searching for.

Jaskier stared at it. "Uhmm."

"Ughh," the bird said and flapped its wings. "Humans. What d’you want?"

"I- uhm- I might be looking for someone." Fuck, he wasn't supposed to talk to anything. Barely a few minutes in and he had messed up already. Well, then he might as well get real information: "There wouldn't happen to be any gods around, would there?"

"Gods?" the lark with the disturbingly deep voice answered. "Nahh, never seen one in my life. There's Wade, but they're chill."

"Wade?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Crazy fucker. Imagines all kinds of things. It's where the good stuff's at."

Jaskier decided to ignore that impossibility pointedly. Something told him that it wouldn’t be the strangest thing this world had in store for him. "And how might one find their way to them? You wouldn't know, would you?"

"Of course, I do,” it scoffed. “You fly. Obviously."

"Obviously," Jaskier echoed stupidly.

"Are you some kind of idiot?" the lark wanted to know and preened his feathers. "It's easy.

Up is down and left is right,

Do not lose your goal from sight.

To go back, you must progress,

For the fearless, no success." It shook out its wings. "Got it?"

"Umm," was all he managed.

The bird rolled its eyes. Could birds roll their eyes? Well, this one did. "Weirdo," it decreed and took wing.

Jaskier couldn't help but keep staring at the branch from where the lark had vanished. "What," he murmured, "the fuck." That might rank among the top five weirdest conversations of his entire life. Maybe even top three. Not as strange as running into the higher vampire, dryad and halfling he’d had a foursome with before sneaking out the next morning, and then explaining the whole situation to Geralt after he had rescued him from their wrath (-ish. Wrath-ish. Yes, he might have been shackled to the bed, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been enjoying himself), of course, but that was hard to beat. 

Anyways, what he was trying to say was that he had a lot of experience with strange encounters, and that he was thankful for it. That way it didn't take all too long for him to continue with his trek, muttering to himself about the strange poem the lark had given him.

Not that he was very successful. He had reached the ‘singing to himself’-stage of ‘I’m trying to figure out some bullshit’ and everyone knew that came right before a nervous breakdown. Well. Nothing to be done about that. ‘Just like the good old days in Oxenfurt,’ he mused as he sing-songed: “This doesn’t make any fucking se-ense. Not one tiny bit, but destiny loves fucking me ove-er.”

"You're not like the others,” an excited voice interrupted his masterful performance. 

"Excuse me?" he squeaked and glanced around in search of the speaker. No birds far and wide.

"Down here," the frail voice sounded again from his right. Were they imitating his melody from earlier? Rude. 

"Uhh," Jaskier stammered and crouched down to get a better look. But no matter how he strained his eyes, there was nothing that would betray any movement between the blades of pink grass and flowers that dotted the field. He bent down even further in hopes of getting a better look. "Um, I'm sorry, but- are you maybe rather small? Gods, is this insensitive? I swear, I don't want to be, this world is just very different than my own and—"

"Not like the others at all," the voice said directly next to his ear.

Maybe he should have been embarrassed over the fact that he fell flat onto his bum or the shrill squeal that escaped him while doing so. In any other situation he maybe would have. In this situation Jaskier decided he didn't care. He had more important matters to attend to. Like dealing with the fact that he was talking to a buttercup, for example.

"I'm sorry," the flower said, swaying gently in the non-existent breeze, "did I startle you?"

"Yes!" he shouted. The buttercup recoiled and he regretted it immediately. It was probably his greatest feat of willpower yet, that he collected himself and answered as calmly as possible: "I'm sorry as well. Flowers do not tend to talk in my world."

"They don't?" It leant to the side as if tilting its head. Blossom. Whatever. "Interesting. None of the others ever told me that. Maybe I could imagine something else."

"Just- one second," Jaskier muttered, holding his hands up to stop the flower from talking. He needed at least a minimal amount of time to process this craziness. A thousand questions burned on the tip of his tongue, each spawning a thousand more. Well, first things first: "Why do you talk?"

"I don't know." It shrugged. "Why do you?"

"Fair point," he mumbled. He hadn’t considered that. On to the second question: "What others?"

"People," it explained dreamily, "tall like you, with those things on their roots so they can move around. But they're very different usually. No conversationalists at all."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah, I've got my fair share of those in my life. It's infuriating, isn't it? I- oh, fuck. Are there a lot of people here?"

"Hmmm, maybe? Why?"

"I am looking for someone. He's a man like me. Tall. Built. White hair on his head and the worst conversationalist you can imagine-"

"That's a rock," it interrupted him.

"Uh-" He decided that the best bet was to ignore that statement. Not that it was necessarily untrue. Talking to Geralt could have certain similarities with conversations with a brick wall. "You didn't see him, did you?"

"I can't see."

"Oh." Shit, he should have thought of that. "Of course not." It was a flower, how was it supposed to see? It had no fucking eyes. "I, um," slowly, he got to his feet, "I should go."

"Where are you going?" the buttercup asked him curiously.

He winced. "See, that's a bit tricky. I don't really know, yet. I am looking for this man and apparently there is someone named Wade around here who might help me, and— it's just— it's really complicated, alright? I'm just wandering about until I find something."

It nodded understandingly. "I don't know any Wade. But I know a poem about wandering. Would you like to hear it?"

'Anything but that,' he thought but he had no chance to say it, for the buttercup was already reciting: "The knight is weak who joins the fray.

A wand’rer in their place will stay.

And when they’re gone the fools remain,

A garden grows with no sustain."

"That's, um, that's beautiful," he answered. 'Not that I understand a fucking word of it,' he thought.

Still, it seemed like the right answer for the buttercup beamed. "Thank you! It's my favourite. Not that I know any other, but-"

"Look," he interrupted it, slightly annoyed, "it's getting rather late and I should be on my way. Or I think it is, hard to say with this weird light. Where's the sun, by the way?"

"Oh, we haven't got one," the buttercup answered casually as if it was no big fucking deal.

"Right," he drawled and made a point of backing up quickly. "I'm going now. Bye!" With that he bolted. He had wasted enough time already and he obviously wasn't getting any information out of it. Nothing useful at least.

"Alright," he whispered to himself, as he kept heading to the horizon that stubbornly refused to come closer. "Birds and flowers talk here. No biggie." He had been prepared to deal with a lot of things. Nightmares. Monsters. But talking animals? Pink grass? The longer he stayed in this weird place, the less it seemed like a nightmarish hellscape and more like one of his worse trips during his Oxenfurt days. Suddenly, he understood why people went mad here.

Jaskier kept walking. And walking. And walking. He had no idea where he was going, if he was honest, and he wasn't confident he'd figure it out in the near future either. His youthful hate of poetry was in the process of returning with renewed vigour. 'I wonder why.'

This was exactly what he had always hated about rhetoric in Oxenfurt: trying to discern a hidden meaning that probably wasn't even there. Only that this time there had to be one. And he had to find it. It was his only chance of finding Geralt anytime soon. Or ever.

And while he normally prided himself on being able to bullshit his way out of these situations, he had a suspicion that that wouldn’t help in this case. 

He had already gone over the formal aspects more times than he could count; that was easy enough. Two quatrains with rhyming couplets. The first had been a trochaic tetrameter, the second an iambic one. And what did that tell him? Fuck all, that's what. ‘Just about as much as Oxenfurt taught me.’

Eventually, he had come to the conclusion that the two poems were not two poems at all, but two stanzas from the same one. No, he couldn't explain it either. Maybe because the last line of the first stanza had the word fearless in it, and the second stanza started with knights- Look, he knew he was grasping at straws here. What else was he supposed to do?

The thing was, he was also rather sure he was slowly running out of time. That idea—as ludicrous as it was—had come to him what felt like days ago and he was still walking. The horizon was still moving far and farther away with every step he took. He was exhausted. But no matter how often he gave his body the command to rest, it still kept on walking. He hadn't met anyone else. No strange flowers anymore. No rude birds. Certainly, no people. And definitely no Geralt. He wanted to weep.

Jaskier stopped in his tracks. "Fuck," he cursed quietly. Then, again, louder: "Fuck!" This was getting him nowhere. He had to try and ask someone for help. To decode the secret message, maybe. Or, if he was right and this was indeed one poem, perhaps even acquire the rest of it.

The thing was, the last two times it had been the strange inhabitants of this world who had sought him out not the other way around. He wasn't quite sure if he was able to talk to them on his own initiative. He didn't even know how to discern the talking plants from the mute ones.

He paled as a horrible thought came to his mind. 'What if they're the same?' Jaskier stared at the pink grass down in horror. 'Shit.'

"Hello?" he whispered warily. No response. He glanced around as if to check that he was alone—of course he was—and bent down. "Can you hear me?" he tried again. "Do you talk, too?"

Nothing.

Relief flooded over him. At least he hadn't been stomping all over a sentient being the whole time. At least he hadn't exposed his bumhole- 'Nope! Not going there.'

He fiddled with his lute strap to distract himself for all of these terrible thoughts that were adamant to take over his mind. There was still the lilac forest he tried to ignore. Maybe the trees could talk. Maybe they were smarter than larks and buttercups. He certainly hoped so.

Jaskier cleared his throat and raised his voice: "Excuse me?" he shouted at the trees. "I- excuse me? I've got a question! Hello? Excuse me? Can you hear me?"

He heard a giggle behind him. "Look at that idiot, trying to talk to trees." Jaskier spun around and spotted the culprit almost immediately: two stems with purple flowers he'd recognise anywhere. Larkspur.

He scoffed. "I'll have you know that I am no idiot at all, thank you very much. In fact, I graduated summa cum laude from Oxenfurt academy."

The flowers laughed again. "Like I said," the second one piped up with a voice that closely resembled another troubadour's he was regrettably acquainted with, "idiot." Jaskier despised it already.

"Well, excuse me that I assumed plants talk here after leading a rather lovely conversation with a buttercup."

"Ughh," it groaned. "That imbecile. We're well acquainted. Are you just as annoying?"

"Gods, I hope not," he blurted before he knew what he was saying. The larkspur laughed again. "So, not all plants talk here?"

"No," the first one answered, as if it were obvious. Strangely, it was.

"Umm." Jaskier blinked, waiting for more. Apparently, that was the extent of the flowers' elaboration, for they didn't say anything else. "You wouldn't happen to know any poems, do you?"

"Maybe," they answered unhelpfully. "What's it to you?"

"Well, if you know one, I'd like to hear it."

They bristled and scoffed. "Why?"

"Uhh-" He hadn't been prepared for that question. Jaskier cursed internally. Why hadn't he been prepared for that question? He should've been prepared for that question. 'Fuck,' he thought, 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.' Improvisation it was, then: "Well, you see, when I met that wonderful buttercup over there it told me a poem and it promised that it was the best I'd ever hear in this world and any other."

There was a cry of outrage and Jaskier smirked. There was a lot of things excelled at, and riling up Valdo fucking Marx certainly counted among his most accomplished ones. Or a flower with his voice, he guessed. He didn't really care, truly. He had information to acquire: "So, now I'm wondering. I have to admit, I wasn't awfully impressed, so maybe-"

The larkspur scoffed. "Of course, you weren't impressed. That buttercup is a talentless wastrel pandering to the tastes of the masses," it complained and, oh, Jaskier had heard that one before. He was suddenly overcome by the urge to strangle a flower.

"Also, no regard for intellectual property whatsoever," the first one continued and Jaskier nearly choked on his own spit. He had said that one before. "Just like you are."

Jaskier stared in mute horror as he watched the two stems begin to argue with one another. "It probably didn't even recite the poem correctly. You, good sir, are in the presence of a true master. At least one, I will make no comments about my companion-"

Now it was Jaskier who scoffed, though he didn't dare to interrupt them. If they were anything like— well, any poet he knew there was no chance he'd get the poem after that. And so, there was nothing to be done but try his best to not have his ears start bleeding from the presumptuous lecture he was forced to endure.

After what felt close to an hour, Valdo-larkspur finally announced: "A poem, you say? I give you a poem. Joy brings grief and tears do laugh

Not all earth’s riches are enough.

You are lost, but so am I,

Come descend into the sky." As soon as it was done, Jaskier-larkspur began commenting on his horrible rendition of it. 

Jaskier stared. And blinked. And stared again. "That's it?!" he exclaimed disbelievingly. "That makes even less sense!" How the fuck was he supposed to descend into the sky?

"Oh, you don't like it?" they nagged. Great, now he had offended them both. "I gave you an hour of my time and this is how you repay me—" Before he knew it, they had descended into another heated argument, of which he recognised rather substantial parts. 'Gods preserve me,' he prayed, 'this is a nightmare.' Jaskier wondered if it was considered awfully rude to rip a flower out in this world, root and stem. Probably. Pity.

He sighed heavily. 'If only they hadn't given me an hour of their ti- Wait a minute.' "Hour, you said?" he interrupted them without thinking. "Do you know what hour it is?"

They scoffed. "Figure of speech."

"Of fucking course," he muttered. Still, he wasn't quite ready to give up on that, yet, so he tried again. "Have you got any idea what time it is? How is it passing here? How long is a day?"

"What is a day?" they answered.

'Gods give me strength,' he begged. "It's from one sunrise to the other."

"What's a sunrise?"

"It’s when the sun appears in the sky?"

"What’s a sun?"

"Oh, this is useless," Jaskier muttered and walked away without another word. He had quite enough of the worst combination of Valdo Marx and himself imaginable. And he had another stanza to think about. 'Not that it will do any good.'

Jaskier kept on walking. It was getting more and more frustrating with every step. He managed to talk to a few other flowers and birds, once even to a snail, but none of them were really helpful. Most of the birds had heard of Wade, at least; the flowers, on the other hand, were very useless. No more stanzas, no more directions, no more references to this Wade. Certainly, and most frustratingly, no answers as to where the sun was. And it was really getting late.

"Does anyone know a poem?" he yelled in the hopes of someone hearing him. He knew it was desperate, alright? But desperate times called for desperate measures. At this point, he'd be grateful for any hint. "Does anybody know what time it is?"

A heavy sigh made him whip around. "For fuck's sake man, how dense are you?" a deep voice grumbled. "Time’s an indefinite continued progress of existence and interdependent events that barely works in your world let alone ours. Just keep on walking."

Jaskier wanted to. He really did. But there was a dandelion throwing big words at him. He couldn't resist. He rushed over and crouched down. "Well, but you surely have a way of measuring it, don't you?" he asked eagerly.

"Time goes by if we catalogue it or not, the outcome is the same.” It yawned. Made a yawning sound. Whatever. Great. Jaskier managed to bore a dandelion. “Your narrow human minds are too focused on how much of it passes that you neither notice how fast it does nor what happens while doing it."

He hummed thoughtfully. “I guess there is some truth to this.”

“Ugh.” The dandelion made a gagging sound. “Truth. Another one of your stupidities. What even is truth but the enforcement of a subjective point of view that is worthless for large parts of society at best, and downright harmful for them at worst? Why are you boring me with such first-grade bullshit?"

Jaskier gaped at him. ‘What the fuck?’ He’d really like to continue their conversation about truth, however, there were more pressing questions at hand: "You have a school?"

"Of course, we do. How else do you think we grow?"

"With sunlight."

The flower turned to the sky. "There’s no sun."

He groaned. And he’d thought this flower was helpful. "Yeah, I can bloody well see that too!"

"Whoa man, what got your knickers in a twist? No need to shout. The volume of your voice does not increase the validity of your argument."

"Let me guess,” he sighed. “Another thing you learned in school."

"Yup." It popped the p.

‘Focus, Jaskier,’ he told himself for the umpteenth time. ‘And calm down.’ Massaging his temples he asked: "Why'd you even go to school?"

"’Cause I'm beautiful, man."

Jaskier scoffed and was about to say something about humility, but it kept on talking: "I'm a pretty little flower with absolutely no purpose. All I’m meant to do is be pretty ‘til someone plucks me and I wither and die. Or I’m meant to stay in the place where I was born until I wither and die. I was havin’ none of that. I like bein’ looked at, don' get me wrong, but I don't like people thinking I'm dumb ‘cause I'm pretty. So, I got an education."

That… made an disturbing amount of sense. ‘Maybe I’m going crazy already,’ he thought. Surely no sane person could emotionally relate to a dandelion. 

“Are you done now?” it asked impatiently.

He supposed he was. "One last question: How do I get to... the garden?"

"Follow your heartbeat to the horizon, the second turn to the right after the battlefield pops you right into his garden."

‘Oh, great. More instructions that make absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever.’ Desperately, he asked: "Please. Can’t you tell me how to do that?"

"You said one last question,” it complained with a sigh.

“Please?” he begged again.

“Man, this is a paranormal netherworld that exists beyond what any mortal can grasp with its mind, you just do. Just do whatever the poem says."

"A poem!" he exclaimed excitedly. Finally. "Tell me about it, please."

"Man," the dandelion sighed, "really? That's... that's a lot of work, man."

"Yes, I know, but-"

"Fuck's sake, I'm on it, I'm on it," it drawled. "Stop stressing me out. It's something like this: 

Up is down and left is right,

Do not lose your goal from sight.

To go back, you must progress,

For the fearless, no success.

  The knight is weak who joins the fray.

A wand’rer in their place will stay.

And when they’re gone the fools remain,

A garden grows with no sustain.

  Joy brings grief and tears do laugh

Not all earth’s riches are enough.

You are lost, but so am I,

Come descend into the sky.

  Come find me in my garden green,

Come taste the fruit that’s never been.

How to find my mighty throne?

The answer’s plain: you don’t."

"That... doesn't make any sense to me," Jaskier said helplessly.

"It will." It shrugged. "But it doesn't have to. You ever went to school, man?"

"Actually, I did."

"Right. You don't need to understand everything, buddy. Just follow the fucking instructions."

Jaskier sighed and got up. "Thank you." He had almost walked away when he circled back and crouched down to whisper: "Why is there no sun?"

There was a heavy sigh. "I don't know man, I'm just a flower."

"Yeah, yeah," he agreed quickly. "Just... don't mind me. Leaving already."

He had a poem to decipher after all. "Just follow the instructions," he muttered. As if that was an easy thing to do. 

He tried thinking about it. He really did. He tried to take the poem as literally as humanly possible. As literally as otherworldly possible, even! No success. 

It was infuriating, really. His mind was a fickle thing at the best of days, always hopping from one topic to the next. This was not the best of days. Just like the horizon that seemed to be moving further away with every step he took, his thoughts seemed to slip from his grasp once they got into reach.

"Fucking cock!" he threw his hands up. "I swear, witcher, if I get you out of here, I'll send you back myself." 

He crossed his arms and sat down on his butt to pout. He knew he was being unreasonable. But really, a world beyond the bounds of reason had no right to expect any sort of respectable behaviour from him. If he wanted to act like a child, he bloody well would. Maybe that might help him figure that out. Thinking like a child instead of an adult. 

After half an hour he came to the conclusion that it didn’t, so he got to his feet and started pacing. Always a good option. Normally, at least.

"Ughh!" Jaskier exclaimed and threw his hands up. "I just- I don't understand it! Up is down and left is right, yeah, I get that everything is weird here. To go back- For fuck's sake, I don't want to go back! I want to go forward!"

He stopped his pacing as realisation hit him. "Wait a minute," he murmured. "Up... is down," he moved his head along with the words. "And left is right. To go back-" He spun around. "-I must go forward. But if I go back-" He twirled again; his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Never lose your goal from sight, that's it!"

He pumped his fist in the air. "I am a godsdamned genius!" He laughed giddily.

"Alright, alright, calm down," he told himself and took a deep breath. There was still one line missing: "For the fearless, no success," he muttered. 

"Good thing I'm a fucking coward." Jaskier laughed weakly and began walking backwards.

[poorlilbeans]

Clinging on to Magic

IT Chapter two commission for the lovely @taylortut :D

(au where everything is fine and nothing hurts because i’m Babey)

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie whispered. He never was great at whispering, and Richie’s face burned as he felt all the eyes at the table fall on him.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not eating.”

Shit, had it been that long since he’d taken a bite? Richie glanced around the table, and sure enough, everyone else’s plates were nearly empty.

“Oh. Zoned out, I guess,” he laughed, praying Eddie would just leave the matter alone. He didn’t though. He just kept staring, and Richie could practically feel the embarrassment burning holes in his resolve. “I’m just not that hungry,” he admitted.

“Does your stomach hurt?” Eddie ventured. His voice was soft, sweet, but Richie could already see him subtly shifting his chair away.

“No,” he answered honestly. It wasn’t enough. Seriously, were these guys aware of how intimidating it was, just staring at someone like that? He paused, waited for the conversation to pick up again- waited for all those eyes to move off of him and back to their food. When it didn’t happen, he leaned back in his chair, frustrated. “My throat, alright? My throat hurts,” he admitted, finally. His face burned ever hotter at the concerned stares of his friends.

“You’re sick,” Mike concluded. Beside him, Eddie breathed a sigh of relief that someone else had said the words, so he didn’t have to.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m fine, I just feel shitty. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re kind of contradicting yourself,” Ben spoke up tentatively. Richie sighed, burying his face in his hands and knocking his glasses askew. Eddie’s heart flipped; he hated seeing Richie embarrassed like this… still, it was better than letting him stay out and continue to overexert himself, right? He leaned close to Richie’s ear, silently cursing himself for not noticing the heat radiating from his head earlier.

“No one’s going to be mad if you need to go home,” he whispered. Richie didn’t move.

“If you don’t want me here, you can just tell me,” he answered. He’d been hoping the teasing would be clear in his tone, but judging by the way his friends faces fell, it wasn’t.

“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie started, and god damn it he sounded so worried, so sad, and Richie felt like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just…”

“You just don’t feel well.”

“Yeah.” Richie leaned back in his chair again, a deep ache in sparking in his back at the movement. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s n-not your f-f-fault, Richie,” Bill placated from across the table.

“Yeah,” Bev added, “We really should’ve noticed something was up with the lack of shitty jokes all evening.” And Richie just looked so sad, so guilty… germs could be damned, and Eddie reached under the table and took his hand.

“I’ll drive you home, okay?”

“I can take a cab,” Richie said, eyes cast down.

“I know,” Eddie answered fondly as he rose from his chair, producing his car keys from his jeans pocket. “Let’s go.”

             “-chie?” Are you okay?”

“Hmmm?”

“There you are,” Eddie smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile. It made Richie feel sad, but it was a distant kind of sad; a liquidy, confusing sort of exhaustion was at the forefront, the kind that make it hard to talk and move and exist because he just couldn’t quite remember how.

“I said we’re here,” Eddie repeated. Getting the message, Richie reached over to unclasp his seat belt, a task that was suddenly unreasonably difficult. He tried one, two, three, four times and the damned thing finally clicked open. He turned proudly, only to startle when he realized that Eddie had already appeared beside him and opened the passenger side door.

“When’d you get so fast, Eds?” Richie mumbled, amazed, and wow, there was that smile again. It was so cute. It made it look like Eddie really, really loved him, and that was just absurd, right? He was just a comedian. He was a thing to be laughed at, not to be loved, but here Eddie was, looking at him with a dimply smile and a sparkle in his caramel brown eyes, and goddamn, that was just wonderful, wasn’t it?

           He leaned on Eddie maybe a little bit more than he needed to walking into his apartment building and waiting for the elevator, but he was warm and cool at the same time and it felt like magic. Richie was sure he couldn’t be blamed for clinging on to magic, right? And then the elevator dinged, and Richie cursed it for breaking the illusion,  for ending that moment of perfect quiet he’d found pushing his forehead into the soft crook of Eddie’s neck. He felt a moment of panic, then, because Eddie was tugging him into the elevator; he was almost home, and that meant Eddie was going to leave soon and he would be all alone! The thought was just unbearable and Richie felt himself tearing up before he could stop it. He sniffled reflexively, a gross, wet, deep gurgling sound rumbling through his sinuses, and the tears came faster at the humiliation. Then they were moving, up, up, up… it felt wobbly, and Richie found himself woozily shifting even more of his weight onto Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s hand was tracing a slow, soothing path around Richie’s back, his own quiet way of offering comfort; he was never quite sure what to do when Richie cried, but this… this was nice. The elevator dinged again and Richie whined against his will, the monster of cold loneliness looming ever closer.

“It’s alright, Rich, we’re almost there. You can lie down soon,” Eddie offered. Richie wanted to tell him that that wasn’t the problem- that he was misinterpreting his tears, but Eddie was only trying to help, so he kept his mouth shut.

           The two of them wobbled up to Richie’s apartment, and Eddie reached around into Richie’s pocket, tickling his hip to grab his keys. He twitched a little at the sensation, and felt a giggle bubble up his throat despite himself. Eddie’s mouth twitched upward, he couldn’t help but notice, but the deep crease between his brows didn’t ease as he practically carried Richie past the threshold and toward his bedroom.

           He was deposited on his bed, then, and a deep shiver ran up and down is spine as Eddie carefully palmed his forehead, his cheek, his neck.

“Shit, you feel really hot… you have a thermometer, right?” Eddie asked, already up and skittering toward the bathroom.

“I already know I’m hot,” Richie called after him. “Everyone knows! I’m smoking hot!” Eddie didn’t answer, seemingly preoccupied with making an absolutely ungodly amount of noise clattering around in the cupboard and the medicine cabinet. Richie closed his eyes, his headache making a very unwelcome reappearance in response to all the racket. The pain seemed to ease off moments later, though, when cool fingers started stroking his head, combing through his curly hair.

“I couldn’t find it… or any meds for that matter. Where do you keep your cold and flu stuff?”

“Mnn?” Richie eloquently replied, already feeling Eddie’s gentle touch soothing him to sleep. The fingers left his hair, much to his dismay, and reappeared moments later to tap him repeatedly on the forehead. “Heyyyyy,” he whined opening his eyes a crack.

“Where do you keep your medicine and your thermometer?” Eddie repeated.

“Oh,” Richie chuckled deliriously, taking Eddie’s wrist and nuzzling into the palm of his hand. “I don’t have any.” Eddie drew a long, trembling breath, a familiar look of panic settling into his expression.

“Well, you need some. I’ll go out to the convenience store and get you some stuff, alright?”

“Noooo, please!” Richie blurted out, embarrassment returning a little at the high, childish pitch his voice took on. “Just stay for a little longer, please?” After a long pause, Eddie sighed.

“Fine. I’ll stay until you fall asleep, alright? Then I’ll go shopping, and I’ll be back before you even wake up.” He sat back on the bed, smiling a little when Richie began snuggling his hand again. Then, he stopped, and forced all the sad sweetness he could muster into his dark brown eyes as he pouted,

“Will you hold me?” He watched with some (okay a lot) satisfaction as Eddie blushed, but after a beat, he complied, and carefully climbed into the bed with him. Richie unashamedly wrapped his arms around his waist, whatever reservations he normally held completely burned away by fever.

“Have I mentioned how hot I am?” Richie asked as Eddie reached down and pulled his glasses off of his face.

“Yes,” Eddie laughed. “Thrice now, I believe.”

“Mhm,” Richie hummed. Without the barrier of his glasses in his way, he smooshed his face into Eddie’s chest wishing his nose wasn’t so stuffed so he could breathe in the comforting scent of his deodorant. “And my dick is huge.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure it is…” Eddie’s lovely fingers reappeared in his hair, and for the first time all day Richie felt completely, one hundred percent at peace. The world was still spinning, and his throat, his head, his… his everything was all aching, but with a cuddle like this, how could he complain, really? The rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he restrained his laughter jostled Richie’s head up and down, and the world spun up, up, up, until he was floating a way into sweet, quiet unconsciousness.

             Eddie’s heart was pounding as he shuffled up and down the aisles of the pharmacy. Thermometer, Tylenol, Asprin… should he get some Advil, too? Maybe he should, just to be safe. Pills or liquid, though? Shit, he should’ve asked… Eddie quickly felt his chest tightening, his vision whiting out at the corners as he drew in panicked little gasps of breath. He needed to calm down. This was just a cold. Or the flu. Or Bronchitis. Pneumonia. The plague. Shit, shit…

Eddie ducked into an empty aisle, leaning down over his cart to catch his breath. In, out. In, out. Don’t panic. Everything is going to be fine. In, out. In, out.

           He carefully counted his breaths for the rest of the trips, scuttling around to find cough syrup, both drowsy and non-drowsy, juice, soup, throat lozenges… should he get Gravol? Richie said his stomach wasn’t upset, but… just in case. His tossed it in the basket. The bill was pretty expensive, and Eddie couldn’t help avert his eyes when he noticed the confused and ever so slightly judgmental look the cashier wore with every new package of medicine he scanned. Whatever, what did he know? Eddie just liked to be prepared! Shit, should he have gotten Gatorade? Fuck. Maybe he could grab some at the convenience store on the way back.

           Aside from a quick pit stop on the way, the trek back to Richie’s building was a blur. What if he was getting worse? Maybe he’d woken up and found himself all alone, with no medicine in him and no one to look after him, no one to tell him everything was going to be alright. With every passing moment Eddie got more worried and more frustrated with himself for not just taking Richie back to his own place. He practically sprinted all the way back, only stopping to catch his breath once he was in the elevator. Anticipation built as he jammed Richie’s key into the lock, ready to find him crying or being sick or something.

           Richie was still asleep. Of course he was, he was exhausted. What was Eddie thinking? He let out the breath he’d been holding, much of the tension bleeding out of his body in a huge rush. Knowing now that he had some time to spare, he set about stocking Richie’s kitchen with sick-friendly foods and beverages, and his bathroom cabinets with a lifetime supply off cold and flu supplies. Then, he made his way back into the bedroom with a glass of water in one hand, a brand new thermometer and Tylenol Cold and Flu in the other. He set the water on the nightstand and climbed back into the bed, hoping to coax Richie to wakefulness with a soothing hand on his head. However, the second he made contact Richie jolted awake with a violent, wet coughing fit. Heartbeat picking up speed once more, Eddie grabbed him by the shoulders and heaved him into a sitting position, trying to be as subtle as possible about holding his breath and turning his head away as Richie worked his way through the fit. Once he was finished, Eddie turned back, and sympathy swirled in his stomach as he took in Richie’s flushed, sweaty face, the tears welling up in his eyes from all the coughing.

“Hey, I’m back,” he said, wanting to kick himself for saying something so silly and obvious. “I’m going to take your temperature, okay?” Richie moaned and dropped his head on Eddie’s shoulder, but opened his mouth obediently nevertheless. Eddie placed the thermometer under his tongue, and tried his best to soothe him as he struggled to breathe around it. Once it beeped, Eddie’s heart skipped an anxious beat at the reading. Then again, any number on that thing would have probably made him feel anxious.

“I have pills for you, okay?” he coaxed, pleased when Richie sat up straighter, and swallowed the pills with a water chase and no complaint. He even took a few extra sips of the water before almost dropping the glass in his lap, sleepiness clearly taking over once more. Smiling fondly, Eddie took the glass and put it back on the nightstand, and helped Richie to lie back down.

“It’s alright, you can sleep now,” he cooed. Richie’s brows furrowed as he squirmed, trying to get comfortable.

“Will you stay?” he mumbled. Honestly, Eddie thought, how could he not?

“Of course, I will,” he answered. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

             Eddie woke with a jolt, with no memory of how or when he’d fallen asleep. This wasn’t his bed, or his room…

The memories all came whirling back when he heard a distressed whimper beside him. He fumbled to turn the light on, and found Richie still sleeping, but not restfully. He was thrashing about, moaning and whimpering and crying. Panicked, Eddie grasped at his shoulders and shook, desperate to save him from whatever horrible dream had him so upset. Richie woke with a gasp, which turned into a cough, which turned into several coughs and then a few hiccuped sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m here, you’re alright,” Eddie tried, with no idea if what he was saying was helpful. It must have been, though, because Richie stopped crying and met his eyes, the wild terror in his own dying down a little. “You’re alright,” Eddie repeated. “You were just having a bad dream. You’re safe.” Wordlessly, Richie scooted closer, clinging to Eddie like he wanted to just straight up climb inside of him. “Shh, it’s alright. Did you want to talk about it?” Eddie asked, not really expecting an answer.

“You were dead…” Richie whispered, and Eddie’s heart flipped. “You… there was this wolf following us, and it had yellow eyes and then…” he sniffled, burying his face in Eddie’s hip.

“It isn’t stupid,” Eddie prompted. Richie sniffled.

“It turned into a clown and it was ripping you apart. I was watching, and it was just ripping pieces off of you and eating them, but you weren’t dead yet. You were alive and screaming but I couldn’t move, and then he ate your heart and he… you…” Richie’s breath came in quick gasps for a moment before he broke off into delirious crying.

“It’s alright, it wasn’t real. I’m here,” Eddie whispered. He rubbed Richie’s quaking back, whispering soothing words until his sobs slowed to a stop, and held him tight until they both fell asleep again.

           When he woke next it was morning, and he was awakened by the harsh sound of Richie coughing. He sat up.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, raising a gentle hand to Richie’s back. “Do you need anything? Water?” Recovering from the fit, Richie raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by Eddie’s panic.

“I’m fine,” he rasped, and they both cringed at the gravelly sound of his voice. He blushed when Eddie reached out to feel his forehead.

“You feel a lot cooler,” he breathed, and for a moment they just looked at each other; Eddie could practically feel crackling static between them. Feeling his own face heat up, he pulled back. “I’ll get you something for that cough. Oh, and are you hungry? What do you want for breakfast?”

“I’d like some Spaghetti please,” Richie wheezed, grinning and offering a wink. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, you need food in you.”

“Won’t you cuddle me first?”

“No. Food first.” Eddie did his best to sound stern, and Richie pouted for a moment, before quickly recovering.

“It’s fine, I’ve got a great cuddle session planned with your mom later tonight.”

“Just for that you’re getting unflavoured Buckley’s.”

“Nooooo,” Richie whined. Eddie smiled, relieved to be bantering again.

“Nope, it’s too late. Hell Juice for you, motherfucker.”

“Damn right I’m a Mother Fucker.”

“Fuck off.”

[krisroley]

February 9th, 2021

One Small Moment

Today I want to talk to some specific friends who I won't name, but I'm fairly sure that this will apply to way more of just them.

First things first, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by giving you a bunch of platitudes. In my experience, they're nothing but empty calories. Filler and no substance, they're designed to make the person giving them feel better, not the person who needs help. In some cases, people who need help end up feeling worse. I'm one of those people, so I absolutely understand the feeling. So, no bullshit from me. Cool? Moving on.

Let me describe my lack of bona fides right upfront. I'm a guy with a high school education and one year of college because I let my dick do the thinking up to the point that I ended up homeless and friendless. I tried to follow in my Dad's footsteps and join the military and washed right out after six months because I have a mouth bigger than my brain. I come from a family that describing as dysfunctional is exceedingly generous. My dad had anger issues, my mother was a narcissist manipulator, as is my brother. He's got a criminal record and is probably on his way back to prison for at least 12 years as I write this. I'm the voice of reason in my family, and as I have said repeatedly, this should scare the fuck out of you. I got married at 24, and I had three kids by the age of 30. I've been dirt poor most of that time. At this stage of my life, I believe that I am an undiagnosed case of autism from the 1970s because my kids--all of them--are on the spectrum. I didn't have a bad childhood if you looked at it from one angle, but I had a horrible one if you looked at it from the inside out. I inherited my Dad's anger issues and my mother's narcissism. I was a horrible husband for years until my wife walked out on me in 2005. It made me face myself in a way I had not seen before, and I couldn't take it. I had a nervous breakdown. My wife thought I was worth saving, and I am forever grateful for it. I promised I would work on my issues, and I have. Three times in my life, I thought I was at the end of my rope. Not from a thought of suicide ideation, just that there was nowhere else to turn. No one else to ask for help. No one else I could lean on. Just Roley.

That moment right there is the point. The entire lesson. One small moment when your brain says, "Well, you're really fucked now, aren't you?" There is only one answer to that question, and that answer is yes because if you answer no, you ain't there yet. Trust me on this. You have to answer yes. This is the moment where you're accountable to no one but you, and you cannot lie to yourself. You can TRY. It ain't gonna work. Not for long.

Let's not bullshit ourselves. There is a lot of work in repairing a life that you fucked up on your own. You climb up out of a hole for years before you ever see daylight. I was a shut-in for two years because I thought it better that the world forgets about me. I tried to make a living from home in 2006-2007, but this world we live in hadn't come to pass yet, and I was living a fantasy. It made me feel worse that I couldn't provide for my family, but I could barely function as a human at that point. So I decided to do the only work I was capable of: Working on myself. I read every self-help book and mental health book I could lay my hands on. I dug deep into myself to try to figure out why I was the person I was, how I became that way, and the answer was straightforward. First, I thought I was absolutely normal. My behavior, though abhorrent, was how I was raised. My parents treated each other and us kids horribly, but it wasn't physically abusive save for a couple of times I'll keep to myself. I grew up in the same environment I perpetuated. I was continuing a cycle. Secondly, to accept that fact and to change meant work I wasn't ready to take on. But human psychology is a lot like a car in that regard; you can do the work now, or you can do it later, but it's going to cost you a lot more. In my case, it almost cost me everything. It was the third of those three times that I faced myself in the mirror and heard that voice, and this was the time I said yes.

For two-thirds of my life, my story is a story of failure, of self-hatred, of being a bad example. But from the age of 35 to 50, it's a story of repair and redemption. I'll put my humble path to today up against anyone's and dare them to do the work I've done to heal myself and come out who I am today. I'm still married to the same woman for over 25 years now. I've got three amazing kids who I adore. Up until May of this year, I had what I consider to be a dream job until COVID ate it, but I'm still with the same company, and I'm going to bust whatever amount of ass it takes to get my job back or demonstrate the skills I learned there to someone else who's willing to take me. I have a sense of self-worth and purpose that I've never had before, and I'm not taking being a call center tech support agent for the rest of my life. It is a means to an end, and it is not my life's work. I know what that is. It's helping you in the best way I know how: By being not the example of how to fix it, but from showing you by my example, it CAN BE FIXED that you can go from being a person full of anger and self-loathing and cruel behavior to being a person of kindness and compassion and love for people. That you can go from being a person who has no prospects to a person who can go to a job every day that fulfills them personally and professionally. That you can go from being a person who hasn't got their shit together at all to a person that can get morning to night without falling apart at the seams. This is my road, and my lane, but it's big enough for you, and I want you on this road with me. Some of you are gifted and talented beyond description, but the world doesn't know it yet because you have these problems. I know. I get it. I also see who you are, and the world deserves to see you as well. I had no one else to turn to at that last moment, so I did what I had to do. Myself. I'm asking you to take a walk with me because I don't want you to have to do it on your own. I may not know your way home, but I can get you as far as Anchorhead. You can get transport there to Mos Eisley or wherever you're going.

I had to get one joke in there somehow.

Did Joe Know About This?

On the heels of the news of Joe Budden maybe-kinda-sorta-moving his show to Patreon (which is weird since it looks like it’s being hosted on Libsyn now), Spotify has announced plans for multiple business models for podcasts, possibly to include ad-supported subscriptions and a la carte options. These may be discussed at a live stream event later in February.

Asked if Spotify thought customers would be willing to pay for podcasts, Ek on the earnings call responded that he believed there were several new models that could be explored.

“I think we’re in the early days of seeing the long-term evolvement of how we can monetize audio on the internet. I’ve said this before, but I don’t believe that it’s a one-size-fits-all,” he said. “I believe, in fact, that we will have all business models, and that’s the future for all media companies �� that you will have ad-supported subscriptions and à la carte sort of in the same space, of all media companies in the future.”

“And you should definitely expect Spotify to follow that strategy and that pattern,” Ek added, more definitively.

The answer seemed to indicate that Spotify is considering some of the ideas in that recent survey — of getting consumers to pay for some podcasts, instead of accessing them all for free or having them bundled into their music subscription.

I wonder if Budden was aware of this and balked. Would there be a revenue split between Spotify and the creators, and what’s the ratio? Now that I think of it, isn’t that what they’ve been crying about re: Apple?

For more than a year, Spotify has been making noise about Apple’s unchecked power over the App Store, and in March 2019, it filed a complaint against Apple with the European Commission. Spotify claims Apple’s practice of taking 30 percent of an app’s revenue is unjustified, and says the company operates as a monopoly on iOS.

Suddenly, I find this Budden/Spotify deal more intriguing.

Wait, You Can Make Money Doing That?

Julie Miller from Vanity Fair writes about Hollywood coming over to the Pod Side for ‘fun and profit’:

…entertainment types began orbiting the audio space about two years ago in earnest, as the number of Americans listening to podcasts every month headed toward the 100 million it is today. It was also around 2018 that agencies like CAA began incorporating audio deals into their development packages. One insider estimates that many celebrities could get a six-figure guarantee per year, with the biggest actors receiving between $1 million and $3 million to launch an unscripted podcast. Scripted projects offer less up-front money but can be adapted into TV shows, films, books, and so on.

For the record, I am Steve Jobs, “Podcasts are Amateur Hour" Years Old. For years, podcasting was seen as less-than, so when I see stories like this, the little imp of the perverse in the back of my head tosses a bone at every true media elitist who, strangely, has a podcast now..

How About Not Doing That?

Chris Curran over at PES has a question about your thin mouth:

When I’m doing my fine-tuned editing on a podcast episode I use TwistedWave or Sound Forge because they allow me to VERY QUICKLY zoom in, highlight very small things like single mouthclicks, and delete them. 

When I try to make the same kind of edit in a DAW (Reaper and others) it takes forever. 

What say you?

For the most part, my workflow tends to remove mouth clicks, or at the very least minimize them. If they still show up through my noise gate, I highlight and remove them. I can’t say this happens often because I like to make sure I keep some water near me while I’m recording. The single biggest thing you can do to prevent mouth clicks is to keep hydrated. Remember, you can’t fix it in Post if it never happens in the first place.

Shot Of The Day

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 34: The Vacation Part 1: A Rough Start

I thought I wouldn’t have this finished on time, as I’ve been writing all the monologues with the Sides, making that Roman video and then also writing the Spanish subtitles for the new episode of Sanders Sides. But I got it just on time, and here it is. It’s the first part of a story which I don’t know yet how many parts it will have. We’ll find out together. Now, without further ado, I leave you with the story and I hope you enjoy it. Until next time.

SYNOPSIS: Thomas and the Sides travel to Sandersia to spend a week of vacation in the Royal Castle with Roland and Ira. The objective is for Remus and Roland to get to know each other and eventually become friends, so that Roland will let Remus and Janus marry in the Royal Castle with Logan and Patton. But Remus has all kinds of doubts about it and the day is not going to end in very good terms...

WARNINGS: Romantic prinxiety, logicality and dukeceit. There’s a scene featuring an apparent death, and a lot of angst, especially from Remus.

EPISODE INDEX

[Remus and Janus are inside the royal carriage going through Sandersia towards the royal castle. Roman and Virgil are sitting in front of them]

REMUS: [nervous] I don’t know if this is a good idea, guys…

JANUS: Why? It’s only a week of vacation. You have nothing to worry about.

REMUS: Honey, I appreciate that you lie to try and comfort me, but you and I both know this is more than a vacation, at least for me.

ROMAN: Remus, relax. If you behave just like you’ve been behaving with us the previous weeks, there’s nothing you should be afraid of… Well, maybe bringing crushed cockroaches to his door like you usually do to mine is not a good idea if you want to impress my brother Roland, but you know what I mean, right?

REMUS: What about it? It’s a proof of my undying brotherly love for you, Roman! I'm bringing you the delicious products of my hunting around my room!

ROMAN: [trying to hide disgust] Yes, of course, Remus, of course…

REMUS: [over dramatically offended] Okay, whatever, it’s your loss! The next one I catch, I’ll cook and eat it myself, and I won’t share!

JANUS: Hearing that makes me long to be a real snake again… at least as a snake I could eat that without feeling nausea…

[intro sequence]

REMUS: Ugh, this carriage is taking forever. Didn’t you say that this thing used to travel at lightspeed? It doesn’t look so.

ROMAN: Yeah, I know. Since the Dark Master manipulated the royal carriages, we haven’t been able to figure out how to put them back to normal. We’ll have to deal with that for the time being. At least, they’re still convenient to travel, even if not faster than a regular car of the outer world.

VIRGIL: Also, maybe it’s not a good idea to have two carriages at the same time running at that speed. We could crash against Thomas and the others’ carriage if they stopped abruptly for some reason, and Thomas could get hurt. I mean, all of us could get hurt, but Thomas is human and his wounds wouldn’t heal as easily, so…

ROMAN: Yeah, maybe so…

REMUS: And I don’t know what your brother expects from me! How can I please him if I don’t know him or what he wants?

ROMAN: Well, that’s what we’re going there for, Remus. Your task is to get to know him and let him get to know you, and eventually become friends.

REMUS: [beat] And then, we’ll live happily ever after, right? We’re the Sanders Sides, Roman, not the Brady Bunch.

ROMAN: But Remus…

REMUS: Let’s face facts, okay? Your brother hates me. He has a valid reason, of course, after what I did, but nothing I can do is gonna make him stop hating me.

ROMAN: But…

REMUS: If saving your son from the clutches of the Dark Master himself didn’t change his opinion about me, I doubt I can do anything else to convince him… This is a mistake, we should go back.

ROMAN: [loud and a bit angry] NO!

[there’s a short silence, then Roman continues]

ROMAN: You’re not gonna run away from this without at least trying! You owe it to him, like you said, after what you did to him! At least, make the effort to fix things for once in your life! I’m tired of having to mediate between my two brothers, not being able to share time with both of you at the same time!

REMUS: But he’s your brother, Roman, not mine! I don’t owe him anything!

ROMAN: That’s bold of you to say considering that you would have killed him if Ira hadn’t stopped you at the last second.

REMUS: [hurt] You’re never gonna let me live up with that, right, Roman? You will always hold that against me!

ROMAN: Remus, I already forgave you long ago, but it’s Roland to whom you did that. You have to earn his forgiveness too. I think it’s only fair that at least you try to apologize to him and show him that you have no ill will against him.

REMUS: But I have no ill will against him, you know it!

ROMAN: But he doesn’t know. I’m gonna tell you something he told me last time, but I beg you, please don’t mention him I told you. He’s still terribly scared of you. And even if he hadn’t told me verbally, he had already made that clear to me non-verbally. What you did to him… traumatized him to the point that your mere mention makes him go pale and slightly tremble. I noticed it the last time we spoke. He tries to hide it because he thinks that, as the regent prince, he has to show strength to govern this principality, or at least that he has to look like it. And I’m sure he wants to make me believe that he’s strong enough so that I think that nothing can affect him. But I’ve know him since he was a baby. I know when he’s scared, and you, Remus, you scare him to death.

REMUS: Why are you telling me all of this? To make me feel even guiltier? To remind me that the blame for his suffering is all mine and I should go to hell for my past actions? To tell me that my struggle for doing better is useless and I should stop trying?

ROMAN: No, Remus, you’re taking it the wrong way. I’m telling you this to make you understand that your actions had consequences, and in order to be able to truly move on, you must try, at least, to fix those consequences the best that you can. I want to be able to tell my brother about you without causing him a panic attack and my biggest wish, even if probably impossible, is that you two managed to get along, or at least tolerate each other. He’s doing a big effort to make this work. I want that at least you do the same effort. If it doesn’t work out in the end, I’ll understand, but don’t give up without at least trying. Like I told Roland, if not for him, at least do it for me.

REMUS: [sighs] Okay… I can’t promise that I’ll fulfill your brother’s expectations in the end… but I will try, for you.

ROMAN: Thank you, brother. [singing sweetly] “That’s all I ask of you.”

JANUS: Phantom of the Opera, my favorite musical.

VIRGIL: [ironic] I wonder why? [looking out the window] Okay, guys, I think we’re arriving to the castle.

REMUS: [nervous] Oh, gosh…

JANUS: [holding Remus’ hand] Calm down, Rem. Remember we’re rooting for you.

REMUS: I hope so…

ROMAN: Your nervousness shows that you’re taking this pretty seriously. Thank you.

[the carriage stops in front of the castle, next to the other carriage. All the gang comes out of the carriages. Roland and Ira are waiting at the door. When Roland sees Remus he makes a tense face for a second, but puts himself together]

ROLAND: Greetings, guests. Welcome back to the castle.

THOMAS: It’s nice to be back, Roland.

ROMAN: Hi, Roland, nice to see you again. I… suppose you remember my brother Remus.

ROLAND: [frowning at him slightly] Yes, I do. [low voice, but not low enough so that they can’t hear him] Unfortunately…

REMUS: [ignoring that] How… how do you do, sir?

ROLAND: [sardonic] Oh, “sir”? You call me now sir? That’s new.

ROMAN: Roland… you promised.

ROLAND: I know… I know, sorry, you’re right. Let’s do as if nothing had happened and start over. Welcome to the castle, Remus.

REMUS: Thank you.

[Remus rises his hand. Roland hesitates for a second, then timidly reaches his hand to Remus’ and shakes hands with him. Remus can feel Roland’s hand trembling inside his and when he looks at his face he notices how pale he’s suddenly gone]

REMUS: Before anything else… I wanted to say that I’m sorry for everything I did to you. It was really bad and I understand that it probably is unforgivable. But I’m sorry, anyway, and I hope you accept my apologies. I promise I will never ever do that sort of thing again, by my noble title I swear.

ROLAND: [with a face of surprise] That’s… that’s actually kind of you to say. Okay, enough time spent at the door. Please, come in. Ira, show them their rooms. I have to take care of some urgent matters in my room.

IRA: It will be my pleasure.

ROLAND: I hope you excuse me right now, we’ll have time to talk later.

ROMAN: Of course, Roland. See ya later.

IRA: Follow me, guys.

ROMAN: Thank you, Ira.

[The gang enters the castle, following Ira, while Roland goes somewhere else]

IRA: You must excuse Roland today, he hasn’t been himself at all. He’s so nervous that this morning he dropped the teapot when he was about to serve himself a cup of coffee. It took two hours to clean the shattered teapot and the huge stain of coffee from the carpet, and the stain is still not gone completely.

ROMAN: I’m sorry to hear that.

REMUS: I guess it’s my fault.

IRA: It is, indeed… Oh, I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, but I suppose you understand this is not easy for him.

REMUS: It’s not easy for me either. I may act without thinking most of the time and I may love to pester everyone with all kinds of shenanigans, but I mean no real harm for anyone, and back then I wasn’t myself either. By the way, I never got the chance to thank you.

IRA: Thank me? For what?

REMUS: For stopping me at the last second before I did something unfixable. To think that I could have killed someone for real if you hadn’t arrived on time… I would have had that on my conscience, at leas the little amount of conscience I have in my brain, for all of my life. So, again, thank you for stopping me.

IRA: Well… you’re welcome, and I’m happy I could have been of help in your path to… redemption. I apologize too for the times I had to take control of your body in emergencies.

REMUS: It’s okay… as long as it happens in a real emergency and you don’t take too long. It’s a horrible feeling, like Roman and Patton can attest.

IRA: Of course. I’ll try not to do that again, unless I’m forced by circumstances. Well, we’re here. This is Patton and Logan’s room. I hope you like it.

LOGAN: It looks adequate.

PATTON: I love this room, [excited squeeing] and look, Logan, there’s a portrait of kittens on the main wall! I love this! Thank you, Ira!

IRA: I knew you would love it, Patton. See ya later guys.

[while Logan and Patton enter their room, the others follow Ira to the next door]

IRA: This room will be for Thomas, Ian and Chris.

THOMAS: Yeah, a room for the single ones. It will be like being back on the student residence when I was in college.

CHRIS: It could be fun.

IAN: Thank you, Ira.

IRA: You’re welcome.

[the others follow Ira to the next door]

IRA: This room will be for Roman and Virgil. I would have given you the royal suite as the Royal Princes of Sandersia, but I thought you would prefer to be all next to each other. I can set up the royal chamber if you want me to.

ROMAN: No, Ira, you guessed right. I prefer being next to my friends for the week, and this room is lovely too.

VIRGIL: Yes, thank you, Ira.

[Remus and Janus follow Ira to the last door]

IRA: And this is your room, guys. I hope you like it.

JANUS: It’s totally not great at all, Ira. Thank you.

IRA: You’re welcome.

REMUS: Yes, I suppose it’s okay. I’m not an expert in super clean rooms, so…

IRA: I… I prefer not to know what you’re talking about… Okay, now, if you excuse me, I’ve got some chores to do. I still have to finish up cleaning the coffee spot. I’ll go check on you later. See ya, guys.

JANUS: See ya, Ira. It’s so good to see you living your best life now. When I think that for some time, we had lost you.

IRA: That time is in the past now, thankfully. See ya later, my friend.

[Ira leaves them while Remus and Janus enter the room]

REMUS: Yes, it’s not a bad castle. Not as good as my own castle, but not bad at all.

JANUS: Are you feeling any better now, Remus?

REMUS: I wish, but the truth is that I’m not. I feel… I don’t know, like an octopus out of water, like… this was not my place, and everyone living here knew it and looked at me like a freak. Normally I wouldn’t care about it, but now, I do, and I don’t know why.

JANUS: Maybe it’s because you’re feeling a sense of responsibility you have never felt before. You don’t care about the others’ opinion, but you’re scared to disappoint Roman. Am I wrong?

REMUS: Maybe. I didn’t want to do this at all. If I’m unwanted somewhere, I don’t need to set a foot there. We could have married anywhere, even if it couldn’t have been the double wedding we had planned with Logan and Patton. But when Roman begged me like that the other day. I knew it was really important for him, and I acquiesced.

JANUS: You really love your brother, right?

REMUS: Yes, I do. Despite all, and even in my worst times, when I was enduring the worst isolation, I could never stop loving him. If this is important for him, I’ll do it.

[Janus holds Remus’ hand]

JANUS: I knew under all that exterior of madness and randomness of yours, there was a heart of gold. It’s just a little rusty of not using for a long time, but it’s gold nonetheless.

[Remus smiles lovingly at Janus, then kisses him. Meanwhile, Roman and Virgil are in their room]

VIRGIL: Roman, you look so worried.

ROMAN: I am worried, Virge. Very much.

VIRGIL: About Remus?

ROMAN: Of course. I’m afraid I’ve placed on his shoulders too much weight to handle, all for my selfish wish to force my two brothers to get along. Maybe I’m hoping for the impossible and I’m about to do more harm than good.

VIRGIL: Well, from the moment we welcomed Remus into the team, we all knew we had to tackle Roland and Remus’ relationship one day or another.

ROMAN: Yes, you’re right, but still… I don’t know how this week is gonna end. I’m imagining all the worst-case scenarios and it’s driving me mad.

VIRGIL: [understanding smirk] Welcome to my world, Roman.

ROMAN: And you have to deal with this all the time? Gosh, Virgil, I don’t know how you can handle this.

VIRGIL: When worrying is all that you’ve known in your life, you become used to it. For me it’s my natural state of living at this point. Except when I get too heightened or Thomas goes into a panic attack. In those times, not even I could endure the pressure and I break down, just like anybody else in those scenarios. But my job is to try and maintaining the balance of tension between vigilance and anxiety, and I must try to be strong to maintain it as much as possible.

ROMAN: Well, kudos, my love. I admire your strength so much.

[Roman kisses Virgil on the cheek. Virgil gives him a heartwarming smile]

VIRGIL: You’re welcome. And I wouldn’t worry too much in advance in this case. I think Remus looks pretty capable of dealing with this, and if he loves you, which I think he does, he’ll do everything he can to make this work.

ROMAN: I know he will… But on the other hand, I’m also worrying about Roland. This is a huge struggling situation for him and I essentially pushed him into it against his will. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this ordeal.

VIRGIL: He loves you too, so he’ll do his best too. Let’s hope for the best.

ROMAN: Let’s hope so, indeed.

[someone knocks at the door]

ROMAN: Come in!

[a servant opens the door]

SERVANT: Your highness, the regent prince asks to meet you, alone.

ROMAN: My brother? Okay, I’m coming. Will you be all right, Virge?

VIRGIL: Yes, I’ll be fine. After I have retouched my eyeshadow, I’ll go hang out with Thomas and the others. Look for me in their room if you don’t find me here when you return.

ROMAN: Okay, see ya later, Virge.

[Roman gets out of the room and follows the servant to Roland’s desk room]

SERVANT: [announcing him at the door] Your Royal Highness, Prince Roman!

ROLAND: Hi, Roman, come in.

[Roman enters the room, then the servant leaves and closes the door behind him]

ROMAN: Is everything okay, Roland?

ROLAND: Yes… yes, it’s fine, it’s fine.

ROMAN: [sitting down next to Roland] Are you sure? Ira told me about the teapot.

ROLAND: Oh, he shouldn’t have. I didn’t want you to worry about me.

ROMAN: As if not knowing it would have spared me the concern. I’ve been worrying about you for days already.

ROLAND: I’m so sorry, Roman.

ROMAN: Don’t be, I’m your big brother, it’s my job to worry about my little brother. Who else would, otherwise?

ROLAND: That was when we were kids, Roman. Now we’re both adults, we’re supposed to be able to take care of ourselves without making others worry about us.

ROMAN: If only that was true. But it isn’t. It’s only natural that we worry about the people we love and their well-being. That’s part of being family. And we’re family, right?

ROLAND: A very atypical family, though. Sometimes I’m still confused about if I should call you brother or father because you created me in this world as your brother.

ROMAN: As you said when you learned the truth, I’m family either way, so does it really matter?

ROLAND: No, I guess not.

ROMAN: Okay, you asked me to come, and here I am, so what is it?

ROLAND: Yes, I was thinking that this afternoon, after lunch, we could all go to the beach in front of the castle, to spend the rest of the first day having some fun. I’ll be free then to join you. If you want, of course, we can do whatever you want if you had something else in mind.

ROMAN: Sounds like a great plan, Roland. I’m sure the others will agree too when I tell them.

ROLAND: Then it is settled. Now, since you’re here, perhaps we could spend… five boring minutes together as I bring you up to date about the principality. I need to know if you agree with the choices I made, you’re the real Royal Prince after all and it’s your duty too.

ROMAN: [sighs with a smirk] Okay, brother. Bore me.

[Roman and Roland start talking about the principality’s administration while looking at some documents on the desk. Time goes by and it’s the afternoon. The gang is at the beach. Ira and Janus are lying on some deck chairs, under an umbrella, wearing a bath suit and sunglasses. The others are all in the water, Remus splashing at Roman who complains about it, Patton trying not to go too far from the shore as he can’t see anything without glasses. Logan is next to him trying to protect him, even though he’s as blind as him without his own glasses. The rest just enjoy the water on their own. Janus and Ira look at the others]

IRA: The water looks fine. Don’t you want to join them, Jan? Oh, it’s still weird to me to call you Jan instead of Dee. I can call you Jan, right?

JANUS: Of course you can, Ira. And nah, I’m not in the mood for swimming. Maybe because I still remember my days as a real snake, when I was a cold-blooded creature and I preferred sunbaths better than water baths. What about you? You don’t want to join them? Don’t feel obligated to stay with me just to give me company. I could take the time to take a little nap while you have fun.

IRA: I’m much better here, having a tranquil rest. A palace can be hard work sometimes, you know?

JANUS: You know what? I’m glad you bring this up now that we’re alone, because I’m often wondering something.

IRA: What is it?

JANUS: Is it okay for you to be a servant of Roland in exchange of living here? Working all day, doing the castle’s chores till you get exhausted… I thought you came here as his personal protector, not as his butler, and I purposely used that word instead of “slave” so as not to talk bad about Roland. I don’t know… you once were a full Side of your own and it hurts me to see you down to this, if you know what I mean.

IRA: I understand your concern and I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s not what you think. When I first came here, Roland treated me with so much reverence, as if I was almost… like a god of some kind. He didn’t let me do anything in the castle and treated me as if I was the true owner of this principality. I had my own servants to do everything for me and… it got a little stressing, not to mention that I got really bored after days went by without doing anything. So, it was me who suggested him to let me do the chores in the castle. At first he refused, but when I talked about how I was feeling, he acquiesced. I told him from the first minute that I wanted him to tell me what needed to be done as soon as it needed to be done, so I could stay busy, and so it has been up until today. So don’t worry, Janus. I’m totally fine and I’m doing this on my own free will.

JANUS: Okay, if you say so. You know I didn’t mean to be rude to Roland, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

IRA: I know. You’ve always looked after me ever since the Dark Realm days, and I’ll always thank you for your friendship.

JANUS: My pleasure.

[Ira smiles at Janus, then looks at the sea. After a few seconds, his smile fades away and is replaced by a face of fear]

JANUS: Is there… something wrong, Ira?

IRA: Where is Roland? I can’t see him anywhere.

[Janus looks for Roland too]

JANUS: You’re right… He’s gone!

[Janus and Roland get up and run to the sea, next to Patton and Logan who are the ones closer to them]

IRA: Guys! Roland is missing! Where is Roland!?

PATTON: I… I don’t know, kiddos, I can’t see without my glasses.

JANUS: [carrying both glasses and giving them to Logan and Patton] Here guys, put them on.

[Logan and Patton put their glasses on]

LOGAN: You’re right, Roland is missing… And Remus too, I can’t see him anywhere either.

IRA: What is going on here? [yelling, calling the others] Guys! Guys, Roland and Remus are missing! Guys!

[the others hear them and start looking in all directions, trying to find them. Roman swims next to the beach]

ROMAN: I hope nothing happened to them.

[suddenly, Remus rises up from under the water]

IRA: Look, there is Remus, he was diving into the sea. But where is Roland!?

[Remus swims calmly without any concern at all]

IRA: Why is Remus so calm!? Did he have anything to do with this? This is suspicious as heck!

ROMAN: Remus! Remus, come here at once!

REMUS: What? I can’t hear you!

ROMAN: [yelling as loud as his lungs allow him] I SAID COME HERE, RIGHT NOW!

REMUS: Okay!

[Remus swims next to the others]

REMUS: What’s the matter?

IRA: You tell us! Where is Roland?

REMUS: What? Roland? What do I know?

ROMAN: Remus, if you know anything about where he is, tell us now, before it’s too late!

REMUS: I’m telling you I don’t know where the f… [bleep] Roland is!

IRA: Yeah, Roland and you disappear at the same time, then you emerge out of the water and swim as if it had nothing to do with you while we’re all worried about him. And you expect us to believe you don’t know anything!

REMUS: Listen, you damn ladybug, I’m telling you I know nothing about this! I was diving calmly, watching some octopuses underwater, and when I came out I didn’t know that your little prince was missing! Janus, say something!

[Janus hesitates. Remus shows a face of huge hurt]

REMUS: You don’t believe me either? I thought you could distinguish between lies and truths! I’m saying the truth right now, please believe me!

JANUS: [after looking at Remus’ face for a couple of seconds] He’s saying the truth. He’s had nothing to do with Roland’s disappearance.

IRA: Sorry, Janus, but you are too attached to Remus. Forgive me if I take your judgment with a pinch of salt. Not saying that you’re lying on purpose, but maybe your love for him could be fooling you.

IAN: Look! He’s there, behind that rock! He’s floating on the water!

IRA: [horrified] Oh, no!

ROMAN: [also horrified] Remus, what have you done?

REMUS: [in despair] I did nothing! I swear! You have to believe me!

[Roman swims to the place Ian pointed at, until he reaches Roland. He’s unconscious, floating on the water]

ROMAN: [horrified] Oh, my goodness gracious, Roland! No!

[when he touches Roland, he flinches and opens his eyes]

ROLAND: [scared] What!? What’s going on!?

[Roland sinks into the water, getting out as quickly as he can, then looks at Roman and takes some ear plugs out of his ears]

ROMAN: Roland, you’re alive! Thank goodness, you scared the sh** [bleep] out of me!

ROLAND: I’m… sorry, Roman, I was floating on the water, with my ear plugs so that water didn’t enter my ears. I guess I got so relaxed that I fell asleep for a moment. I’m sorry I scared you.

ROMAN: Then that means… [looking at Remus, who watches the scene from afar] Oh, Remus!

[Roman returns as fast as he can to where Remus and the others are. Roland follows him from behind]

ROMAN: Remus, I’m so sorry!

REMUS: [serious face] How could you honestly believe I could do that to you, even for a second?

IRA: Well, it wouldn’t have been, like, the first time you had tried to do that…

REMUS: [yelling in a sudden outburst of wrath] I’m talking to my brother, not to you! I don’t give a f… [bleep] sh… [bleep] about what you think about me, you fake doodle! But I do care about Roman’s opinion and…

[tears burst out of his eyes. Remus turns around, then gets out of the water and approaches the deck chairs, not facing the others, who follow him a few steps behind]

ROMAN: I have no excuse. I can only tell you that I’m sorry and that I should have trusted you from the start.

REMUS: Yes, you should have. But you didn’t. And it seems no matter what I do to be better, you’ll never fully trust me, right?

[Remus makes a gesture and he’s dressed with his usual outfit]

REMUS: I’m not in the mood for more… beaching around. I’m going to my room, I want to be alone.

JANUS: Remus, I…

REMUS: I said alone, Janus. I don’t want you to follow me either.

JANUS: Okay… As you wish, Remus.

[Remus walks two steps, then, with a broken voice, he looks at Janus, with his eyes wet and red, and speaks]

REMUS: What hurts me the most is that… even you, Janus, had doubts about me… Even you, my love, thought me capable of…

[before Janus can answer, Remus starts running towards the castle. They can’t see his face, but they all notice clearly that he’s crying]

[to be continued, guys, gals and non binary pals]

[end card]

ROLAND: I’m sorry I have been the cause of this terrible misunderstanding.

IRA: No, it’s my fault, I didn’t give Remus a chance.

ROMAN: It’s not your fault only, Ira. You were driven by concern over Roland’s life, as much as me, and we were all unfair to Remus.

IRA: But still, what I said is true, he did try to do harm to Roland once, so to claim that he’s not capable of doing such thing is false. I was wrong and I’m really sorry, but even so, I had a high chance of being right. You all know it.

LOGAN: But you’re judging an old version of Remus, a Remus that is long gone. The Remus of today may be a lunatic, but he’s not a murderer. Humans evolve all the time and we, Sides, as we’re part of a human, do too. Do I need to remind you of your first entrance in the living room, Ira, and how much you changed afterwards?

IRA: I… [sighs] I guess you’re right.

THOMAS: Well, getting to know who is right or wrong or who to blame is not important. The important thing right now is to make sure that Remus is okay and apologize to him.

JANUS: I’ll go see him.

ROMAN: But he said he wanted to be alone.

JANUS: I’m the one who has the most to apologize for. I’m his fiancee. How am I supposed to start a marriage if I fail in the most basic idea of marriage, which is trust. I need to talk to him, in the name of all of you but also and mostly in the name of me, because I failed him.

ROLAND: Again, I’m so sorry I’ve been the cause of so much pain for all of you. I didn’t mean…

JANUS: It’s not your fault at all, Roland. Okay, I’ll go see him. I hope at least he lets me in the room.

[Janus heads to the castle while the others look at him with faces of remorse]

PATTON: Who would have thought this day that seemed to be so happy would end so badly. I hope Remus and Janus can amend things.

ROMAN: And I hope he can forgive us too…

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (15/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: I’m currently writing the last official chapter of this story. How weird is that? I can’t believe it either...which is probably why it’s taking me forever to figure out the perfect way to end this story. Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for killing her eyes to read all of the words in this story 🥰

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 |

Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

When Emma wakes up, she rolls over on her mattress and buries her face further into her pillow, kicking some of the extra throw pillows off the bed and wondering why the hell she has so many things that look cute but cannot be comfortably slept with.

Seriously.

This is all TJ Maxx’s fault, and she’d like to damn whoever decided to put a store in seven blocks from her apartment. She shouldn’t even go inside, but she does. Every. Single. Time.

(So maybe it’s a little bit her fault too.)

Finally, she finds a spot that’s comfortable, her eyes shutting and her body calming down into the softness of the mattress so that she can fall back asleep when her phone starts blaring, her alarm vibrating across the top of her bedside table, and for a moment, she considers throwing her phone out the window so that she never has to get up from bed.

She’ll get fired from her job. And probably die from bed sores or something else equally as dramatic.

It’s the first thought that has her rolling over and turning the alarm off, the shrill blaring sound going away, and her eyes have to squint at the bright light to recognize that it’s seven in the morning and she does actually have to get up for work right now.

Her job is great, but she doesn’t get weekends off like normal people. And noon games are her actual worst nightmare.

Today is a noon game. She’s also got that dinner with David, Mary Margaret, and Ruth, and she’s unnaturally nervous about it as she almost always is when it comes to Ruth.

Like a zombie, she rises from her bed and shuffles into the bathroom before making her way out to the kitchen, adjusting her shorts and the sweatshirt that she’s wearing as she stumbles into the kitchen, the smell of coffee already filling her nostrils.

“Bless you,” she mumbles to Ruby who is sitting at their kitchen table with a mug already in hand before she fixes herself her own cup, not even bothering for it to cool down much more before she takes a large sip. If only caffeine worked right away. That would be the dream. “Why do you already look so put together?”

“I always look put together.”

“Liar.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, and when I woke up, I just kind of got up, I guess. And now I’m sitting here dying inside. At least I don’t look like I’m dying. A family of birds could live in your hair.”

“That is not true.”

“It is. Have you looked at yourself this morning?”

“Yes,” Emma lies, taking another sip of her coffee. She most definitely didn’t when she was in the bathroom, but as long as her tits aren’t showing, she doesn’t really care what she looks like at home. “And I haven’t gotten ready yet. I’ll look nicer for the game.”

“I would hope so. I don’t think that they let reporters not brush their hair and roll out onto the field in sweatshirts. Where’d you get that, by the way? I don’t recognize it.”

And while she may be half asleep and her coffee might not have an instantaneous effect, she knows that she fucked up.

She’s wearing Killian’s Vanderbilt sweatshirt. The one she keeps stealing. She’s had it in her possession for two weeks now, ever since Toronto and the morning after they slept together, and she’s been sleeping in it because it’s comfortable and kind of smells like Killian.

It definitely smells like Killian.

And Ruby can see her wearing it.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, no, no, no.

It’s instinct to cross her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover up the faded words all the while she tries to come up with some kind of excuse. She’s not sure that she’s ready for their friends to know about the relationship yet. A part of her definitely wants to say something, but she and Killian probably need to talk about it first.

But what if it somehow gets out past that?

What if someone besides their friends and family know? It’s too soon. It’s all too soon for that, and she just can’t right now. It’s the middle of the season, so much time left in front of them, and she can’t let anything jeopardize her career.

Emma has no idea what to do, and she’s terrified of everything crumbling beneath her.

This is the happiest she’s ever been in a relationship, and the repercussions…she doesn’t even want to imagine them.

“Uh, um,” she stutters to Ruby, making sure that her face isn’t giving away her lie, “I’m not sure. I must have swiped it from David’s house one day. You know how he’s always got sweatshirts from all over the place.”

Ruby’s eyes squint at her from over her coffee mug, and it takes everything in Emma not to bounce off the balls of her feet. All in all, it was a pretty good lie because David most definitely does have all kinds of sweatshirts from different professional teams and colleges, but this is not David’s sweatshirt.

How could she have been so careless?

Ruby is so damn observant, but there’s no way she can make the connection over a sweatshirt, right?

“I need to steal some stuff from him,” she finally sighs, going back to her coffee. “It looks so much comfier than the things Graham has. I swear, if it’s a scratchy material, he buys it.”

“At least it looks nice on him.”

“This is true, my friend. His clothes do fit him well, but you know I much prefer him without any.”

There’s a knock on the wall that’s connected to Ruby and Graham’s bedroom. “I can hear the two of you, and sweetheart, it’s too early for you to be making sex jokes about me to Emma.”

Emma has to put her coffee mug down on the countertop as she laughs, the giggles stemming from deep in her stomach. Graham is the best and usually goes along for Ruby’s antics, but sometimes it’s too damn funny when he’s asking her to stop talking.

Definitely an opposites attract pair, but they work. Really well, actually. Emma keeps waiting for Graham to tell her that he’s going to propose to Ruby, but it hasn’t happened yet.

She should probably get her own place if it does. How weird is it to live with a married couple? Like, an eight on a scale of ten? Maybe a little less when rent is so high. But definitely at least a five.

“I love you,” Ruby shouts back, knocking on the wall three times.

Graham simply knocks three times in response.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“I know, but I like to think that I bring out the ridiculous in everyone.”

“You do. What time do you want to leave for work?”

Ruby hums as she taps her chin with her perfectly manicured nail. “In an hour and a half?”

“Perfect.”

-/-

Late June in the Bronx is basically a blazing hellfire, and Emma keeps sneaking into the air-conditioned press box every chance she gets only to be sent back outside to do an interview with a player or a coach or even a kid who caught a foul ball. It’s a little ridiculous, but it’s her job so she sucks it up.

At least she’s not wearing a full-blown uniform and exercising like all of the guys are. Most of them are soaked in sweat, even the ones simply sitting in the dugout, and she does not envy them at all.

All she really envies right now are people taking a cold shower.

It’s late June. She doesn’t even want to imagine what it’s going to be like in August or September.

Killian throws another ball, and then there’s a smack of bat against ball and a white and red blur that shoots out into right field only for John Little to catch it, ending the top of the third inning and Killian’s time on the mound today. They’re all leaving for London in five days, and Al has expressly stated that they are not screwing up Killian’s arm for a game where so many people are going to be watching.

She knows that it’s more because they’re playing the Red Sox than anything else, but she doesn’t mind preserving Killian’s arm when they can. His pitches haven’t been averaging quite as fast as they usually are, but she figures it’s probably a tactical change. She’ll have to ask him about that in the locker room later.

The next two hours seem to idle by, nothing too exciting happening, and when the game is over, she moves from her press spot, flashing her ID to the guard in front of the entrance to the tunnels, and makes her way through the hallways she knows like the back of her hand until she’s in the clubhouse with Jeff following right behind her. It’s loud in there, cheers and yelling and celebrations over their win, and it takes her ten minutes before she can even get someone to talk to her, other reporters pretty much taking up everyone’s time as all of the players move into various states of undress.

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking to us?” Will asks with a cheeky grin as he brushes sweat off of his buzzed hair. “I mean, damn. I get tired of talking to us, and I actually think you may be around more than me.”

She chuckles, unable to help herself. She’s always loved Scarlet’s dry sense of humor, and he’s nearly as easy to talk to as Killian or Robin or even Eric. “To you, most definitely. But I have my favorites on the team that I like.”

“Doc? King? Locksley? Fisher? Jones? Whale? I could go all day.”

“I can’t tell you,” she teases, messing with her microphone in her hand. “You want to answer some questions for me today?”

“As long as it’s not about me getting engaged, I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“You’re engaged?” Emma gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s so exciting! How did I miss that?”

“I have no idea since you talk to my girlfriend on Instagram.”

“Technically she’s your fiancée now.”

Will smiles at that a soft little thing that’s so unlike him and yet entirely him, and it makes her smile to herself. Will and Belle are getting married. That’s wonderful, but she did tell him she wasn’t going to ask about any of it, so she doesn’t, sticking to game stats and assessments and asking how he feels about their upcoming series in London. It’s the same with everyone she talks to, and after twenty minutes in there talking and chatting, she’s finished with her work and starts undoing all of the cords attached to her as Jeff turns off his camera and walks ahead of her as they leave the room.

But then there’s a strong grip around her wrist, and she’s being pulled away and down the hallway to what is a storage locker. If she didn’t know that it was Killian tugging her along, she’d assume she was being murdered.

She still could be and boy would that be a plot twist.

“What the hell?” she gasps out on a broken breath as the door closes behind her and all she can see is Killian’s face and shower-damp hair and a shelf full of cleaning supplies that make the entire room smell like bleach. “Why are you pulling me off into storage closets?”

He smiles, this really bright and cheesy thing, before strong hands are cupping her cheeks and soft lips and prickly scruff are brushing against her mouth and her chin in a slow, pleasant burn. This is how it’s been ever since Toronto two weeks ago. They slept together, and it was like this flip switched where they absolutely could not get enough of each other.

Not that she minds.

It’s electric. Honestly and truly. If they had easier access to each other, she knows that it would be even more intense, that they would be staying overnight and moving under the sheets until she couldn’t walk the next day. That actually almost happened last week, her body so sore afterwards, and as amazing as it was, that cannot be a frequent thing.

A girl has got to be able to walk.

She really, really likes Killian, is so close to loving him that it terrifies her, and sometimes she looks into his eyes and swears that if someone told her he hung the stars in the sky, she’d believe them.

This was never how any of this was supposed to go.

“Hi,” he growls, pulling at her upper lip before he pulls back so that their foreheads rest together.

“Hi,” she sighs as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and feeling the softness of his hair. “You played well today.”

“I was okay.”

“But in the second, you – ”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” he promises, quickly brushing his lips over hers. “Have I mentioned how much I love that my girlfriend is an expert in my job?”

“Maybe a time or two, but this time it sounds slightly less macho man-ish.”

“That’s my goal.”

“Good.” Her stomach swoops at the smirk on his face, and she really wishes they were back at his apartment instead of in this stupid supply closet. “Why didn’t you tell me Will and Belle got engaged?”

“Because I legitimately didn’t know until right before the game. It apparently leaked or something, and he was all pissed about it. I think Belle posted the ring after it all to kind of beat out tabloids from making money off of them. They’re happy.”

“I would hope so. They’re getting married. People are usually pretty happy for that.”

“Eh, sometimes there’s those people who aren’t actually happy and think a new title and diamond ring will make them happy.”

“True.” Emma leans back against the door, the wood hitting the back of her skull, as she runs her fingers through Killian’s hair. It’s all long and messy again, and she honestly can’t decide which way she likes it best. “I do not want to deal with the crowd on the train getting out of here on the way to David’s.”

“I could drive you,” he offers with a shrug.

“Oh yeah, because that won’t at all be obvious. Also, I think we need to talk.”

“I’ve found that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation when a woman tells me that.”

“Shut up, you ass.” She slaps the back of his head, but all he does is give her another cocky grin. So dumb. So, so dumb. “Okay, so, like, hear me out.”

“I have my listening ears on.”

“Yeah, little pointy ones.”

“Swan.”

“Okay, okay,” she mumbles, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth as she bounces on her toes. “I’m not – I’m not one hundred percent sure on this, especially with what I just found out about Will and Belle, but I think it might be time we told my friends and your family about us. Just a few people, the ones we trust the most, because I’m starting to slip up on where I’ve been or who I’m talking to when they ask. Also, I feel really shitty every time I lie to Ruby or David or Mary Margaret or someone else who is my friend.”

His lips are parted, mouth gaping open, and he’s blinking at her like she’s a crazy person. She might actually be.

“W-what? Are you serious?”

“I’m serious about us thinking about it. I’m still not completely sure on the entire thing. I think, maybe when we get back from London, we can have another conversation about it. I like to think this is going pretty well, and while I don’t want our relationship to escape us or our families, I don’t think we can keep doing this without telling the people we love.”

Killian’s brows furrow, his eyes thin lines beneath them, and his hands finally dip from her cheeks down to her shoulders with his nails digging into her skin over her freckles. “Let’s think on it, yeah? Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than thrilled that you feel confident and happy in us enough that you want to tell people, but I don’t want to expose you even more to the world. Because in our circles of people, love, it’s going to be a big deal that we’re dating.”

He’s right. She knows that he is. She’s had the same thoughts.

“I know. We’ll figure it out though, right?”

“Absolutely.” Killian squeezes her shoulders once more before dipping his head down and gently slanting his lips over hers in quick succession. “Now, as much fun as I’m having inhaling all of these chemical fumes, I think you have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Emma, love,” he says tenderly, thumbing at the indent in her chin as he smiles that reassuring smile at her, “you’re going to be fine. It’s your family. You love them. I know you do. And you’re going to be reminded of that the moment you get comfortable sitting on David’s couch and relax into dinner.”

Right once more.

“Okay, okay,” she exhales, pulling in Killian for a hug so that she can bury her face in his shoulder and breathe him in instead of the chemical fumes for a moment, “I can do this.”

-/-

Killian was exactly right like she knew he was but didn’t like to admit outside of her head. She was building up the awkwardness, building up the strained relationship with Ruth like she always does, and while it wasn’t the best thing at first, now that she’s sitting crisscrossed on David’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand, she can think of few other places she’d rather be.

This is her family, even when she doesn’t admit it, and for a girl who never really got to have a family until she was too messed up to truly accept one, this is absolutely everything.

Just…everything.

“And then, Grandma,” Leo continues, walking back and forth through the room, “Captain America holds his shield up while the bad guys try to attack him, but he’s too fast for them.”

“This Captain America sounds like a cool guy,” Ruth laughs, very obviously confused about the whole thing. She has not caught onto the Marvel bug, which is pretty much a sin when Leo has been obsessed with Captain America for months. Mary Margaret and David say it’s the longest he’s ever been interested in one thing, and when Emma thinks about it, she believes it. “Do you think you’re going to be as strong as him?”

“Probably not,” Leo shrugs, “but he started off really small like I am so maybe if I’m tall like Dad and not short like Mom.”

“Hey,” Mary Margaret protests, her eyes cutting at her son while Emma and David snicker underneath their breaths, “I am not that short.”

“Mom, I’m ten, and I’m almost taller than you when you’re, like, seventy years old.”

“Leo David Nolan, I am not seventy years old. I’m thirty-nine. Don’t age me like that.”

“What’s wrong with being nearly seventy years old?” Ruth teases, and Mary Margaret’s pale cheeks immediately flush red.

“Nothing, nothing. I – ”

“I’m nearly teasing you, sweetheart,” Ruth sighs before turning her attention to Emma. “I watched your game today. You looked so beautiful, but why are they still showing you eating every time?”

Well, damn, she didn’t know that was still happening, so she takes another sip of her wine and rolls her eyes as she laughs. “I have no idea. Like, it’s a running joke at this point. You can literally google ‘Emma Swan eating’ and all of these videos pop up. Leo told me that they even add songs to them now.”

“They do,” David chuckles. “I showed him those.”

“You’re awful.”

“I actually think I’m pretty awesome.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Look, Grandma,” Leo laughs, taking Mary Margaret’s iPad over to Ruth, “here’s one of the ones with music. It’s so funny!”

“You guys are the worst,” Emma groans as she places her glass down and sinks into the couch. “The absolute worst.”

“You just seem to have a face for funny moments,” Mary Margaret says sympathetically, reaching over to pat her thigh. “It’s because you do a little dance when you’re eating good food, I think.”

That makes her smile. It’s always what Killian is saying about her when he’s teasing her over her eating habits, and that’s when she suddenly remembers that hat that she still hasn’t given to Leo. It’s been sitting in the bag she carries with her to and from games for weeks now, and she keeps forgetting to give it to the kid. He may still like Captain America, but he’s probably moved on to another favorite player.

Quickly, she gets up from the couch and walks to the entryway where she left the bag, shuffling through it until she pulls out the signed hat, and then holds it behind her back, a genuine smile curling on her lips.

“Leo,” she sing-songs, immediately getting his attention as his brown hair falls across his forehead, “if you stop showing Grandma weird videos of me online, I have a surprise for you.”

“Way to bribe my kid,” David whines without much conviction.

“It’s not a bribe. Not technically.”

“What do you have?” Leo gasps, taking the iPad away from Ruth. “What is it? What is it?”

God, to have the enthusiasm of kids. Life would be so much simpler. And happier probably.

She’s pretty happy now anyways.

Slowly, she pulls the hat around from behind her back, and Leo’s brows furrow in confusion. Of course they do. To him, it probably just looks like a random hat since the autograph can’t really be seen.

“A Yankees hat? I have a couple of those already.”

“Leo,” Mary Margaret and David say at the same time.

“It’s fine, guys,” she laughs, stepping a little closer. “Remember when you asked me if I could get you a hat signed by Killian Jones?”

Now Leo’s face lights up, a bright smile practically taking up all of it, and he runs to her and immediately wraps his arms around her waist in a hug so tight that she loses all of the air in her lungs.

“Thank you,” he sighs before releasing her and taking the hat out of her hands, staring down at for a moment only to put it on top of his head. It’s too big for him without being adjusted, but he doesn’t even care.

She feels like the coolest aunt in the world right now.

“You’re the coolest aunt in the world.”

Ah, so confirmation then.

“Killian Jones is the man who asked you out, right?” Ruth questions, and Emma has to bite her tongue as she moves to resume her place back on the couch. She wishes she had more wine, but she’s got to be up early again tomorrow and doesn’t need more to drink. “You’re still talking to him?”

“I mean, only for my job,” she lies. “He’s a nice guy, so he was really happy to sign something for Leo.”

Ruth nods her head, and Emma thinks that it’s the end of the conversation when it’s most definitely not. “So, are you dating anyone, dear? I don’t mean to pry, but I do like to know about your life and you’re much more difficult to get information about than David.”

“That’s because Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret.”

“Why am I feeling so attacked right now?” Mary Margaret laughs.

“Well, you can’t, honey,” David says to his wife. “You are the worst at keeping secrets, and you overshare all the time.”

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.”

“It’s really not, Marg,” Emma tells her before turning back to Ruth. “I’m not dating anyone right now,” she lies again, more guilt building up in her stomach, but she and Killian are going to talk about it after London when they’re not in a storage closet, “but I’m really happy. Things at work are going well, even if I’m busy, and I love all of my friends and family and how much time I’m getting to spend with them. But if something on the dating front seriously changes, I’ll let you know.”

Ruth winks at her, a smile on her face. “Well, I don’t believe that for a second.”

Emma stays there for the rest of the night, all five of them eating and watching movies with talking in between. Leo insists that Ruth get caught up on anything and everything Captain America, and even though she falls asleep during several of the movies, she does learn a little bit more, making sure to ask all of the right questions. She’s so good with Leo, with everyone really, and it reminds Emma of when she was a terrified fifteen-year-old moving into a new foster home not knowing what was going to be awaiting her.

For someone who was so unloved and never thought she’d find love, living with Ruth Nolan was a shock to her system. She hates that her own walls and issues kept her – keep her – from always accepting that love and genuine kindness, and she hates that she let Neal influence her to not believe that Ruth was her family.

She is.

Most definitely in every way, and this is going to be something that Emma works on. She’s very much determined to do so.

Her life is a good one, and despite how complicated it is sometimes, she deserves to be happy in as many ways as possible.

When the movies are finished and Emma is ready to go home and go to bed, she whispers words of goodbye to everyone, promising to come over again for dinner tomorrow and to bring Ruby and Graham with her since they are always itching for an invitation.

“It’s so good to see you, darling,” Ruth sighs into her hair as they hug goodbye. “I love you.”

Emma nods her head against Ruth’s neck, a smile on her lips. “I love you too.”