#I still can’t believe they just threw a literal PLANE CRASH in in the last episode of the season when they literally Did Not Need To

[dykenav]

at the plane crash episode

[pitubea1910]

“I could kiss you right now”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Featuring: Avengers

Words: 2k

Warning: fluff, alcohol, some mild swear words

Request: -

Tags: -

Notes: -

Masterlist

Tony’s parties were among the most dangerous and funny events you could attend in New York City. The man really knew how to throw one. And if they were always a success when there was no reason to have one –except boredom-, imagine how they were when there was an actual reason.

This time, it was Tony’s 40th birthday party.

Usually, he would just use one of the floors of the Stark Tower. However, for this very special occasion, Tony had gone completely mental. He decided not to use the Tower. He didn’t rent a property or a club in New York. He had decided to take you all to Santorini, where he had rented a whole villa for all of you to spend his 40th birthday.

When he gave you the news, a week before the trip, you all were shocked. You thought he was kidding, but when he appeared the next day and gave each one of you a plane ticket to Athens, you saw how serious he was.

So there you were, with your best friends –pretty much family- in the world, drunk in one of the most beautiful places in the world. Along with the rental of the villa, it looked like Tony had bought the whole supply of alcohol of the island for your enjoyment and you weren’t going to let him down.

You had started drinking at 11 in the morning. Piña colada with your breakfast. Was there any better way to start the day? Of course, by sunset, you were more than tipsy. So was everyone else. Even Thor, Bucky and Steve were drunk. Tony had asked Thor to bring all the Asgardian liquor he could find and the god had complied.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” You said, leaning against the white stone wall while looking at the spectacular view of the ocean in front of you, with a cherry vodka in your hand.

“It is”, Wanda, who was beside you, said. “I can’t believe Tony rented this. I mean, look at this view.”

Just then, Steve and Sam walked right past you, laughing at something Sam said. Steve’s eyes and yours met for a moment and he winked at you before he continued walking. They were probably on their way to get more alcohol.

“Yeah… an amazing view”, you mumbled looking at Steve’s ass.

“Make a move already”, Wanda laughed when she saw what you were looking at.

“Should I?” You mumbled, still looking at the corner where Steve had disappeared.

“You’ve been pining for him for months now, so yeah”, she shrugged.

That was true. Even though Steve and you had been friends for a long time and you had never thought of him differently, but something had changed months ago. You didn’t even know when it had changed exactly, but suddenly you found yourself not being able to take your eyes off him, thinking about him at all times, smiling whenever he looked at you, looking for him the moment you walked into a room and so on.

You never made a move or let him know anything. You couldn’t risk your friendship or the team just because of an infatuation that would probably go away at some point.

“We’ll see”, you said and pushed yourself from the wall. “You coming?”

Wanda narrowed her eyes, looking at the ocean, considering your question as it was the most important question ever asked.

“No, I still need some more air”, she finally said.

“We’re next to the pool, literally around the corner… there’s air”, you said.

“Whatever”, she said with a drunk chuckle.

You brought your red cup to your lips and finished the sweet beverage Natasha had prepared and went back to where everyone was.

The villa was huge and it was at the top of one of the many cliffs of the island. Therefore, the stunning views. It had a swimming pool, a hot tub, a tanning and barbecue area and a chill out area. You had no idea how much money Tony had invested in this, but it would have been a lot.

“There she is!” Bucky said when you turned the corner to join everyone.

You had decided that the best place for the core of the party was the swimming pool area, since it was next to the barbecue and had plenty of places to sit down, lay down or just –obviously- take a bath.

“I just went to have some air”, you said.

“Because there’s a huge lack of it around here, right?” Sam teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him and went to the alcohol table to get a refill. You looked around the table for the ice. Once you found it, you threw three ice cubs into your cup and took the vodka, pouring some in the cup as you hummed to the music playing through the speakers.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Holy shit!” You exclaimed, not expecting anyone to talk to you at that moment.

Steve was quick enough to get the bottle before it crashed into the ground. You had been so focused on your drink that you hadn’t even heard anyone approaching you.

“Shit, sorry”, Steve said with a small smile and placed the bottle on the table.

“It’s okay”, you said as you giggled. “I was just… focused”, you laughed. “And yes, I am enjoying myself, thank you very much”, you finally answered his question.

You took the cherry bottle and poured some into the mix, turning it red. Finally, you looked at Steve, who was busy with his own drink. He looked gorgeous in that white shirt.

It had been Tony’s idea to have a white theme for the party, so everyone was in white. You were wearing a short white dress and brown sandals, with your hair up in a loose pony tail. With a sigh, you looked away from Steve, thinking about what Wanda had said.

Talking about making a move on Steve was easy. Actually making one, was a complete different story. He wasn’t only Steve, your friend; he was also Captain America, a public person with thousands of girls behind him, wasn’t a bit arrogant to think that he would chose you? You knew you had a lot to offer, but you didn’t know if it would be enough.

“You coming?” Steve asked when he finished refilling his cup.

“Huh?” You looked up at him.

“You okay?” He laughed. “You’ve been zooming out all afternoon”, he commented.

“Yeah, yeah… I think I’m just a bit…”

“Drunk?” He said with a teasing smile. You narrowed your eyes at him but smiled anyway. He always made you smile.

“Tipsy”, you said.

“I see”, he nodded and looked around. Suddenly, his lips formed an evil grin. “Maybe I can help you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to bed or anything like that”, you said.

“Do you have your phone with you?” He asked, putting his cup on the table. You shook your head, actually wondering where you had left your phone. “Perfect.”

Without saying another word and without giving you time to react, Steve picked you up, making you drop your cup and spilling its content.

“Steve! What? What are you doing!?” You exclaimed, holding onto him as you saw that he was approaching the pool. “No! Don’t you dare! Rogers!”

“I think you need to sober up a little”, he said, still smiling.

“Go for it, Rogers!” You heard Sam encouraging him.

“Sam, shut up!” You screamed at him. “No, Steve, don’t!”

When Steve got to the edge of the pool, he was supposed to just throw you into it, but you refused to let go of him, so when he tried to let go of you, he found himself being pulled by your weight into the swimming pool as well.

The water wasn’t cold at all, thanks to the outside temperature, but it still caught you completely by surprise. However, you didn’t let go of Steve at any time. If you were going down, you were taking him with you.

“What the fuck?” He said when you two came out to the surface to the laughs of the whole team.

“You threw me into the pool!” You exclaimed, your arms still around his neck.

“And you took me with you”, he said now laughing.

“Well… yeah”, you nodded before you started laughing as well.

“Better?”

“I was okay the whole time! What made you think that throwing me into the water would sober me up?” You laughed.

“Well, I don’t know”, he shrugged. “I watched it in some movies. Aren’t you sober?”

“Sober enough to do this”, you said.

Then, you moved your hands to his shoulders and pushed him under the water before swimming away. You heard him coming to the surface with a gasp so you tried to swim faster to get to the edge, but just when you were about to reach it, Steve grabbed your ankle and pulled you back.

“No!” You laughed.

“You just tried to drown me!”

“Please, don’t, don’t do it”, you said holding onto him as he was a lifeboat.

You hadn’t even realised that you had both your arms and legs around him so he wouldn’t push you under water. It wasn’t until he smiled at you and pushed some hair out of your face that you were aware of it. And it was then when your heart starting beating way too fast and you felt yourself blushing.

“Please”, you whispered. Not really knowing what you were asking for.

“I could kiss you right now”, he whispered, looking at your lips.

You felt the breath leaving your throat as he spoke and your eyes moved down to his lips, just in time to see him running his tongue over them. It was the biggest temptation you had ever felt and, yet, you didn’t dare to close the distance.

“Do it”, you said instead.

Steve smiled slightly and moved his head closer to yours slowly, as he was giving you time to back away. But you weren’t going to do it. Still, he stopped when he was just an inch away from your lips, so close you could feel his breath against you, you could smell the gin mixed with his own scent. It was intoxicating. You bite your lip slightly and it looked like that was the last sign Steve needed.

He pressed his lips against yours slowly, allowing you to savour the moment as he wrapped his arms properly around you. His lips were cold due to the water and yet they felt warm and soft, his tongue slowly found its way into your mouth where he found yours, making a low moan escape your mouth which caused him to smirk into the kiss.

It was then, with his arms around you and his tongue in your mouth, when you realised that your feelings for the Captain were deeper than a crush.

***

Next day you woke up around noon with one of the worst hangover you had ever experienced. It had been one of the best nights of your life and you couldn’t remember most of it. However, you remembered the most important part: kissing Steve.

It hadn’t stopped at the pool. Once that kiss finished and everyone also finished teasing you, there were dozens of them along the night. Stolen ones, quick ones, heated ones. It looked like he had been waiting to kiss you for ages and was now making up for the lose time.

Yet, when you went to bed when the sun was already coming up again, he didn’t go to your room with you. He decided to sleep in the room he was sharing with Bucky. You weren’t exactly disappointed, but you weren’t happy about it either. Maybe he regretted it? Maybe he realised that he shouldn’t have kissed you and wanted to put distance?

There was no way of knowing it, except talking to him, but you didn’t know how to start the conversation. Although getting out of bed was a good start. You put on a pair on ripped jeans, a white short t-shirt and your flip flops. Since there was nothing you could about your hair, you just put it up in a messy bun and made your way out of the room.

The house was completely silent, which made you think that maybe you were the first one to wake up. It was surprising, since you and Steve had been the last ones to go to bed. In the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice and walked to the patio where you had spent the whole night. It looked like Tony had hired a cleaning service since the only trace of the party was Bucky’s underwear floating on the pool.

“Morning”, you looked at one of the hammock to find Steve, lying there shirtless and with his sunglasses on.

“Hey”, you said, smiling a little as you remembered last night. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s the last time I’m drinking that Asgardian thing”, was his response.

You chuckled and took a seat on another hammock, next to him.

“You say that every time”, you said.

“Because I always forget how awful it feels in the morning”, he admitted with a smile. “How are you?”

“Like someone smashed my head with Mjolnir”, you smiled.

Steve smiled and turned his head to look up once again. While you drank your juice, you studied his face, wondering how to start the conversation and not finding an answer. He looked relaxed and happy –despite the hangover-. If he regretted anything, he would say something or, at least, wouldn’t be so relaxed, right?

“You’re staring”, he said after a few minutes. “So you probably want to tell me something.”

“Maybe?” You said.

Steve smiled and sat up, taking off his sunglasses. Then, he moved his legs to the side so he was sitting properly and facing you, his forearms on his legs and his eyes focused on you, waiting.

“Shoot”, he said.

“It’s about last night”, you said.

“I figured”, he nodded. “What about it?”

Was he really going to make you explain it? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Well… we… we had fun, right?” He nodded. “And we…”

“Kissed. A lot. I know”, he smiled. “I don’t bite, (Y/N), you can say it if you don’t want it to happen again.”

“What? No! That’s… you want it to happen again?” You asked.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed”, he said. “But I’m not the kind of guy who goes around kissing someone for no reason.”

“So… there’s a reason?” You asked and he nodded. “What is it?”

“Maybe the same reason that made you kiss me back every single time?”

“Eh…” you looked down at the juice. Steve took the glass from your hands and put it on the floor before taking your hands in his.

“Because I like you, (Y/N)”, he finally said. You looked at him and bit your lip, but you couldn’t help smiling widely.

“You do?” You asked and he nodded again. “So you don’t regret it?”

“In fact”, he said, moving a bit closer. “I think I’m going to kiss you again, just to show you how much I don’t regret it.”

He placed one of his hands on your face to pull you closer and kiss you slowly. This time it was different from last night, it was calmed, slow and perfect. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips briefly before looking at you.

“Then why didn’t you stay the night with me?” You asked.

“Because I didn’t want our first night together to happen when we were completely wasted”, he shrugged. “I want us to remember it perfectly”, he smiled.

Your stomach twisted at his answer. It was probably the best one he could have given you and it made you feel so stupid for thinking that he was going to avoid you. With a small smile, this time it was you the one kissing him again, moving to sit on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him and he hugged you tightly, kissing you back as the morning sun warmed you up in that beautiful morning of May.

[kaashiboo]

ahah heeeey!!!!! can i request kenma, akaashi and sugawara as best friends with gender neutral reader?

thank you for your hard work i really enjoy reading your headcannons (灬º‿º灬)♡

haikyuu boys as your best friend

┇ kenma, akaashi, and suga

gn!reader

【warnings: none】

➢ general note: ohoho this is a very long one so buckle up!

✎ a/n: aaww this is request is cute! thank you for appreciating my work and i'm so glad you enjoy reading them! take care of yourself!<3

kenma

you've been friends with kenma and kuroo ever since you were a child but you're more close with kenma due to his chill personality.

but that doesn't mean that you're less chaotic

kenma honestly questions himself as to why he's best friends with you

but you're a bit more tolerable than kuroo he guesses.

"say, if i hypothetically and accidentally broke your swi— kenma, you're gonna kill me with your stare." you laugh nervously.

"give it to me." you removed your hand behind your back and gave him his switch with a pout.

"are you mad at me?" you asked, rubbing your nape. awkwardly.

kenma sighed loudly, "yeah."

"oh" your shoulders dropped.

"but it's fine since i already bought a new one. i'm mad because i was planning to give you this one but i guess we have to make someone check it out if it's still repairable." he replied and your eyes lit up in excitement.

"really?"

"yeah."

"but i don't have the money for it."

"we'll make kuroo pay." he shrugged and you tilted your head in confusion.

"eh? do you really think he would agree to that?"

"i don't know. maybe. just do all his work or compliment him everyday, that might work."

"are you two planning on how to murder me?" kuroo appears out of nowhere, ruffling kenma's and your hair.

"yes." the setter and you answered in unison.

people also wonder how you can keep up with kenma but you're honestly one of the people that can see through him and could tell whether something is bothering him.

and he never hesitated to show you what he really feels. if he's mad then you'd let him vent and let out all his frustrations.

and there were times as well where he just wanted to be away from anyone so you gave him space.

but because he finds you tolerable, he begged you to not distance yourself from him.

now, in terms of YOU being sad, we all know he's not the greatest when it comes to comforting people but he would always find a way to cheer you up like offering you to play games with him.

he would even let you do the interior design of his house in minecraft as long as he can see you're enjoying.

just like what others do, he would typically protect you from mobs while you pick up flowers.

but most of the time, you would have a competition on which person could kill as many mobs as they can.

you also would do stupid challenges that you see on youtube.

and late night walks with him are the best since you never had to worry about bothering him when he rarely sleeps early.

let me rephrase that real quick, it's mostly you walking around while kenma sits on a bench,,, still playing.

but he would occasionally look for you to make sure you weren't lost or kidnapped.

you would eventually get tired so you just... lay on the grass and roll around.

kenma puts down his switch, "what are you doing, y/n?"

"i'm bored. you're not even paying attention." you whispered the last part but he still caught it.

"alright, sorry. stand up now. let's go to the convenience store and crash at kuroo's house." he offered and you immediately agreed.

because the two of you never failed to be in the same class every year, your classmates would be confused since you two would verbally fight and give each other a silent treatment and then one second later, you would give him food and he tries to help you beat the level you're currently on with the game you're playing.

and in the timeskip, the three of you have stable jobs like, rich rich rich very rich.

"at this point, we can be your sugar daddies." kuroo jokes but you paid no attention to him as you were still busy processing with what kenma gave you as a present.

literally everything you need for streaming— heck, you're not even sure if you would use all of them.

but kenma still wanted to drag you along with him to do things that he loves

not that you'd complain about it anyway.

"you're helping me set everything up." you finally recovered from your state of shock and pulled kenma up from your couch.

akaashi

and the best 'best friend' award goes to akaashi keiji!

look, just because he's a laid-back person, doesn't mean he's unaware of how to push your buttons.

he would subtly annoy you. so subtle that not everyone could notice that you wanted to murder him on the spot.

"akaashi keiji, i will seriously ki—"

"it's settled then! y/n, please come to my office now." the teacher spoke, making you groan in frustration before standing up but you made sure to purposely step on his foot and he silently winced in pain.

the chat with the teacher didn't take long and when you exited the office, you saw your best friend standing outside, waiting for you with a barely noticeable smirk.

yeah, we might have to take back his award.

you rolled your eyes and walked past him but he grabbed your bag and pulled you back.

"sorry, do i know you?" you scoffed.

"look, i'm sorry. i already told you that you shouldn't sleep in class." he reminded, implying that him dragging you into doing something was a sort of consequence from sleeping in class.

"i know! but you decided to be annoying again and volunteered that i would help with some activity." you complained. he still hasn't let go of your bag but you continued walking which may or may not made it look like you were his pet.

akaashi knows you're not actually mad at him and so he didn't have to bother to apologize again.

"if it makes you feel better, i volunteered first before you. at least we're now both busy."

you didn't respond and continued walking, "where are you going?" he asks.

"home."

"no."

"no?"

"i have practice," he said.

"what does that have to do with me?!" you wailed.

"nothing." you facepalmed and let him pull you to the gym.

the first time you met was during middle school. you were crying because you lost a competition and unfortunately for you, akaashi was the one who won.

he tried comforting you but you pushed him away.

akaashi was persistent though. he didn't want you to stay mad at him and so he bothered you everyday until you finally started to warm up to him.

you sighed for the ninth time. deciding to make a paper plane and throw it to akaashi's way.

it fortunately hit his forehead and he 'tsk-ed' at your action but he continued reading the book anyway.

you reached for the plane, crumpling it until it's round.

"i thought you were gonna teach me?" you question and threw the paper at him, again but lucky for him, he caught it.

he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "how am i supposed to teach you if you keep throwing things at me?"

you see, you're smart but there are certain subjects that you really hate and you coincidentally got sick during a discussion and now you and akaashi are currently studying in the library.

he knows he could have just lent you his notes and you can just take a photo of it but he wouldn't let you do that because his reasoning was, "you'll learn better if you write it down." you've complained to him about it many times and he'll eventually get tired and not give you anything so now you've learned your lesson,

don't annoy keiji.

but sometimes, he's kind enough to cover for you when you're asleep during class and would lie to the teachers by saying you're sick.

which rarely happens since he doesn't always tolerate you so being friends with him feels like having a parent watch you all the time.

"maybe if i befriended konoha then i'm already done with this." you huffed.

"he doesn't have the patience to deal with you, y/n." you let out an offended gasp before throwing your pencil case at him.

honestly speaking, the two of you get along really well. you're more talkative and he tends to listen to your rants a lot.

and of course, he would also share to you how his day went and how he found a new way to get bokuto out of his emo mode.

hanging out with him outside of school can be chaotic at times.

especially if you decide to go to the arcade because expect him to tease you a lot when you couldn't get the prize you wanted.

he would help you though:)

and since you two are a popular duo, you would often get a lot of confessions from boys and akaashi would ramble about how it's a waste of time and that you should focus on your studies.

but he would also reassure you that he'll support you no matter what decision you make.

in conclusion, he's a bit confusing and indecisive but he just wants the best for you but then he would also start thinking that he's being controlling of your own life.

akaashi also can't keep his cool sometimes,

"i can't believe they cheated on me." you hugged your legs closer to your chest as you sob.

his practice was already over but he insisted that the two of you stay at the gym so that you could talk to him about your problems.

"they’re an asshole, y/n." he replied.

usually, he would rub circles on your back when you're crying but this time, he stayed still on his seat so you glanced at him and frowned.

"you weren't even paying attention," you said.

"i was," he stopped typing on his phone to look at you.

"i was just searching up ways how to murder someone without getting caught." he joked and you chuckled.

"just kidding. i was ordering your favorite food. now stand up and wipe your tears. don't let that asshole see you vulnerable. show him that you don't even need him in the first place because you don't need anyone, 'kay?" he pulled you up and nodded at his advice.

"except for me, of course. how else would you be alive if it weren't for me?"

"i have my own parents." you rolled your eyes playfully.

"they don't love you— they prefer me." he teased once again. earning a punch from you.

suga

aDMIT IT, SUGA IS SO FUN TO BE WITH.

like sureeee he would help you most of the time

but he's also the same person that would get you in trouble.

"vice principal, i am so sorry! i didn't mean to knock off your wig! please don't suspend me—"

"it's fine, l/n. just go and don't tell anyone." the old man sighed.

you bowed and left, running to where suga was standing.

you saw your friend biting his lower lip to stifle a laugh.

you glared at him but you couldn't help but to cackle at what happened and now you two are being noisy in the hallway that made others look at you weirdly.

"i told you, he's bald!" he exclaimed and your laugh couldn't get any louder until you start coughing from the lack of oxygen.

"oH MY GOD— DON'T DIE ON ME Y/N," he said dramatically before offering you a bottle of water.

"you're so dramatic, please shut up." you rolled your eyes after drinking.

you and suga have been arguing for a week about how he witnessed himself how the vice principal's wig flew off and it was too good to be true so you didn't believe him.

not until your beloved best friend pushed you to the vp's direction accidentally.

you were taller than the old man so when you bumped into him, you wanted to grab onto something for support but instead, you knocked off his hairpiece.

and suga ran away instead of helping you.

we love a supportive friend.

"well at least he was kind enough to not give you a punishment." suga shrugged and you just nodded your head in agreement.

when you transferred to karasuno during second year, you luckily met suga when you asked for directions.

you two were in the same class so he accompanied you the whole day.

he was very talkative and you loved hearing him talk about volleyball.

at first, you admired him for how approachable and kind he is

but now you just want to kick him.

"i said he wasn't my crush!" you convinced him but suga ony hummed in response.

"but you were staring at him with heart eyes." he quirked a brow.

"i wasn't!"

"you were!"

"i wasn't!"

"you we—"

"suga and y/n, that's enough." daichi sighed. pushing the two of you apart from each other.

"daichi! your vice captain is being annoying again."

"daichi, did you know that y/n has a crush on y—" his words were cut off when you covered his mouth with your hand and he had no choice but to bite your palm and you backed away in disgust.

"i don't like you anymore." you huffed and he just ruffled your hair.

"ah really now?" he smiled but you knew that behind that smile was an evil intention.

"nevermind." you muttered. not trusting your own friend.

oh and your parents adore suga.

like, they know you have other friends as well but suga is the only person they trust to be with you all the time.

and honestly, you agree with them. no words or numbers could describe how much you trust the setter.

despite his naughty and chaotic attitude, he always takes care of you.

kind of like akaashi but he's a bit more loose.

he's very good at giving you advice.

he's also the type of friend that sulks when you miss a game.

like, he would literally ignore you.

and now you're struggling how to make him forgive you.

"kōshi, enough. you've been ignoring me for a week! it was just one game, come on." you persuaded, poking his side but he didn't budge and continued writing down notes.

"i'm sorry for missing your game. i swear, it was an accident! i would never miss your next match again!"

he shifted in his seat and your eyes were filled with hope.

he looks at you with a slight hint of disappointment, "even if i'm not a regular anymore?" the question caught you off guard.

"what do you mean?" he remained quiet and you took that as a sign that he didn't wanna talk and so you impatiently waited for classes to be over.

as soon as you were dismissed, you pulled him out of the classroom to take him to your favorite spot just near the gym.

"i don't like how you're doubting my ability to support you. it doesn't matter what you do— heck, you could even commit a crime and i might bail you out of jail." you uttered. finally breaking the silence that engulfed the two of you the past few minutes.

you struggle with expressing how you feel sometimes and being able to decipher your analogies is one of suga's skills.

"your comforting skill is top tier." he replied.

you know how he would playfully hit his teammates? he'd do the same to you but he would only give you head pats, not wanting to hurt you physically.

and you unexpectedly just learned how to love it.

it somehow inspires you to work harder since he only gives you head pats when you achieve something and it's his way of congratulating you!

he also likes to drag you along with him. he wants to watch a movie? he would buy an extra ticket just for you!

but sometimes, he would whine about being broke when he's with you🤡

would also be ready to make a presentation as to why you are his platonic soulmate.

please just agree with him so he won't be sad</3

last but not the least, gossiping.

literally, the two of you will not call it a day if you haven't talked about any issues at all.

so even if you were sleepy, he would call or text you in the middle of the night and be like, 'tea time?'

aaahh imagine how shock i was when i saw that this was about 2k words overall AHAHA. i know that akaashi's part seems a bit off but honestly i just imagine him being a bit mischevious and more open to people he's genuinely close with so yeah! i had so much fun writing but i feel bad becaue it was so long- anyway, thank you for reading!<3

[upamongthestarss]

Perfect Timing//Bill Denbrough x fem reader

Please be kind! This is only my second time publishing on tumblr, so I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but here we are!

Warnings: smut, brief mention of fem oral receiving, swearing, mild angst, underage drinking

Spring break came way too slowly, especially for Y/n. Freshman year of college is said to be one of the best years of your life, but it’s definitely the worst. Her high school was entirely too easy for her, probably because her teachers were just idiots. Then college hit, and the workload was unbearable. Not to mention, she grew homesick for her parents and her best friends and even a tiny bit for Bill. 

Oh, how she hated Bill back home. 

Well, okay, she didn’t hate him, it was more of just a mutual tension that sometimes led to the Losers separating them at all costs. 

They went on a few dates freshman year, and even kissed once, but it all ended when popular Autumn asked Bill to “help her with English” at lunch one day. He completely forgot to tell Y/n, but didn’t think much of the whole affair anyway. When Y/n walked out of the lunch line, she smiled at her newly official boyfriend. He was hunched over a piece of paper, diligently writing with ginger hair falling into his eyes. When Autumn saw her coming over, she tapped Bill on the shoulder, and kissed him full on the mouth when he turned to her.

Y/n’s hands went slack, causing her tray to clatter to the ground. Tomato soup splattered all over her new white Keds. She obviously looked down to see the damage, and missed Bill pushing Autumn off of him. He went over to check on her and help her clean up, but she stormed off to the bathrooms. 

From then on out, there’s been so much tension between them. Even though Bill explained what happened countless times, she’s absolutely refused to listen. She’s had trust issues after her biological father cheated on her mother when she was little, and this, well, this basically made them inflate like the economy. She wasn’t on speaking terms with him until the end of the school year, and even then their friendship was rocky.

But there was also a sexual tension. Bill and Y/n still had blatantly obvious feelings for each other, whether they wanted to admit or not. In fact, they even went to senior prom together, but it ended in disaster. There was a dramatic exit from Y/n when he mentioned how he was on good terms with Autumn now, and she was really sorry for what happened. 

“Why the hell would you bring that up now?” Y/n rose from her seat.

“B-b-because she t-told me she w-wanted us to-”

“Can’t we just completely forget what happened back then? It was so long ago.”

Bill flushed. “Well, it r-r-really seems l-like you’ve n-n-never forgotten ab-about it these past th-three years.”

She threw her napkin on the table and left after saying, “You’re a dick.”

That night she vented to Eddie and ultimately admitted to having feelings for him, but he knew that all along anyway.

That night was the last time they talked until it was time for Bill to leave for NYU.

“Good luck,” she told him, bouncing on the balls of her feet nervously. 

“Th-thank you, Y/n, y-you too!” he was so excited that day that he even pulled her into a hug, much to her surprise (and delight). 

And now, here she is, on the plane to Palm Springs. It’s a long flight from Marywood, so Y/n uses her time to finish her homework. She’s majorly jetlagged by the time she lands at Palm Springs International. Luckily, the cab ride isn’t ridiculously long. When she gets to Richie’s beach house, he’s on the porch with his feet up and a daiquiri in hand.

“Y/N!!!!” he shouts, putting his drink to the side and running down the stairs.

“RICHIE!!!!” she yells back, dropping her bags to run and hug him. 

“Oh, it’s been so long!”

“I know!! And holy shit, your house is gorgeous!”

“I’m telling you, Y/n, I lucked out so much by scoring that audition. Can you believe it? Rich Records Tozier, the nation’s youngest beloved DJ.”

“Hardly,” she chuckles. “So how is the life of fame treating you?”

“Oh, brilliant. Come on in, I’ll give you a tour,” he scoops up her bag and leads her to the door. It’s an incredible house, with a beautiful kitchen and even a movie theater. 

“And here’s your room,” he gestures to the first door upstairs. 

“May I?” she asks, hand on the doorknob. 

“Be my guest.”

She swings it open to a redheaded girl on one of the two beds. She looks up from her magazine, smirking. “Hey, roomie!”

“Bev!” Y/n shrieks as her best friend runs to her and practically knocks her over. 

“When did you get here?!” 

“About an hour ago. Stan’s here too, but he’s taking a nap.”

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Y/n grins mischievously. 

“Everyone else is supposed to get here tomorrow morning, except for Mike. He’s coming tonight.”

“Oh, thank God. No Bill for a half day more.”

“Oh, Y/n, don’t be so close-minded,” Bev giggles and they sit down on the same bed, bursting with so much to catch up on. Richie doesn’t know if he should sit down with them or just go back to his daiquiri, but the doorbell rings.

“Saved by the bell,” he says, getting the side eye in response. 

The girls talk for hours until they decide to say hello to Mike. Y/n stops at the bathroom first, and it takes her a while to find the kitchen after that. She has to follow the voices and Richie’s booming laugh.

“Sorry, I got lost,” she says, turning in the kitchen. “Hi, Mi-”

The third person talking to Richie and Beverly is not Mike.

It’s Bill. And she looks like a total bum in her old sundress and messy ponytail. She isn’t wearing a drop of makeup, either.

“Y/n.”

“Bill. Good to see you,” she holds out her hand professionally. He shakes it.

Is it good to see him? Looking at his cerulean eyes certainly sends butterflies through her stomach and through… other parts of her body.

“Y-you too.”

That immaculate stutter. She sits down at a barstool and crosses her legs together tightly. Richie and Beverly are quick to notice it, but restrain from commenting.

“I thought you were coming in tomorrow morning?” 

She doesn’t sound rude or accusatory, just curious.

“M-my flight got c-c-cancelled.”

“Okay, gotcha.” 

She drums her fingertips on the counter restlessly, not really knowing what else to say.

Luckily, Richie has a plan in case things get awkward between these two- and he’s already having to use it.

“Anyone want a drink?”

************************

“Nursing school is so insane. In anatomy, our teacher dissected a literal human body, and we had to examine it.”

“Eddie, please. We’re eating,” Y/n coughs. 

“It was disgusting, but it was also fascinating,” he defends himself.

“Whatever floats your boat,” Ben shrugs. 

“Y/n, tell us more about Marywood,” Eddie says, but she’s way too busy watching Bill talk to Richie’s cute next door neighbor while holding her little sister.

“You’re so good with her!” she simpers, tossing her shiny brown hair.

“Y/n? Earth to Y/n?”

“What?” 

“How’s Marywood?” 

“Oh, it’s… fine.”

“Just fine? Did you pick a major yet?”

She shakes her head.

“What about that guy? Are you still with him?”

“David? No, we were together for a while, but I guess the spark just kinda died. I mean, he initiated the breakup, but it was all mutual.”

Eddie squirts a dollop of sunscreen the size of a clementine in his hand. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” Y/n shrugs, averting her gaze back to Bill. She’s very glad that she's wearing sunglasses, to hide her stares.

The cute girl was right, he is good with that little girl. Her heart would be melted, but Bill keeps flirting with the older sister. It’s disgusting.

And then, that girl has the audacity to drop the rattle she shook in the baby’s face. Y/n is close enough to hear the conversation, or at least read lips.

“Oh, l-l-l-let m-me get that.”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” she smiles, bending over so stealthily so that her breasts are all but out of that bikini.

“Ugh,” Y/n rolls her eyes.

“What’s up?” Ben asks.

“Nothing. I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” she stands up and walks almost catatonically to the door.

Instead of going to the bathroom, she finds a glass and slams it on the table. 

“D-damn, Y/n. That’s n-n-not a napkin, you kn-know.”

She jumps at Bill’s voice. He obviously followed her in, and she’s not too thrilled about it.

“Funny,” she replies, searching the cabinets. “Do you want anything?”

“I-I was ac-actually getting d-drinks.”

“Oh, for you and your new girlfriend? Hey, let me know when the wedding is. That is, if I even get on the guest list.”

“What’s your p-p-problem?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

Y/n finds a bottle of straight vodka and pours it right in the glass.

“Hey, its eh-eh-eleven AM,” Bill warns her, reaching for the glass. Unfortunately, their hands grab for it at the same time and it goes crashing to the ground. 

“Great, thanks,” she says.

“I didn’t w-want you to be w-w-wasted all d-day.”

“Listen, Bill,” she takes a deep breath. “I really appreciate your concern. I do. But it’s my life, and if I want to get wasted this early, then no one should stop me.” 

He doesn’t answer. They both grab rags and start to clean up around their feet.

“Th-this kind of r-r-reminds me of a certain sit-situation involving t-tomato soup,” Bill risks saying.

It was a terrible idea.

“Are you kidding me? I thought we moved on from that!”

“Yeah, so w-w-we can j-joke about it now!”

She’s silent for a minute, a blend of wrath and sadness.

“Just,” Y/n says, “Just go back out with your girlfriend.”

“I-I-I h-hardly know- o-okay, what the hell is y-y-your problem? We’re n-not together an-anymore!!! You sh-sh-shouldn’t c-care about my l-l-love life.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” she stands up, vodka dripping from the rag to her toes. “I don’t care that I shouldn’t care. I do care! I’ve always cared!” 

Bill is speechless, and she honestly doesn’t blame him. Y/n assumes he doesn’t feel the same about her. After all, they haven’t dated since freshman year. Sighing, she puts the rag in the sink and walks back outside.

She’s opening up her book and lying on her stomach to get a tan when Y/n hears an obnoxious “Excuse me?”

She looks up to the girl, who could literally be a bikini model.She looks at Y/n like she’s a piece of dirt, and Y/n just wants to smack her. She could never hurt anyone, though.

“Um, do you know when Bill will be back with the drinks?”

“Not a clue.”

******

Bill absolutely could not stop thinking of Y/n all day. He never really can, ever, but his thoughts have been out of control all damn day. They range from wild fantasies to regrets from way back when to just simply: She still likes me, she still likes me, she still likes me!!!!

He wants more than anything to talk to her and confess he’s been in love with her since high school, maybe even before that. But some small voice in Bill’s head tells him that even if she does have feelings, she won’t want to act on them. After all, he’s been nothing but an asshole to her.

Then again, so has she.

It’s really ironic that they’re so abrasive towards each other. Y/n is so kind and friendly to everyone she meets; that’s why Bill fell for her. And everyone tells him that he’s nothing but a sweetheart. And he’s always treated his every girlfriend like a princess. 

But it’s Y/n he wants as a girlfriend, and it always has been. 

Y/n comes running down the stairs, using the bansiters to prop herself up and skip the last couple steps. She’s been strangely lighthearted after she made that confession to Bill. It had been a weight on shoulders for the longest time, after all. And now that it’s out of the bag, she feels as if she can finally move on.

Holy shit, she’s so cute, Bill says to himself. She has this youthful energy, but the looks of a gorgeous young woman. Not to mention her outfit- a pastel yellow halter top, short jean shorts, and a sky blue scrunchie- looks magnificent.

“Okay, I’m ready to go!” she grins widely. “Sorry for the holdup!”

“You’re good,” Richie replies. “We were just figuring out transportation, considering I can only take five of us in my car.”

“I don’t mind taking the trunk,” Y/n shrugs. “Anyone else?” 

“I will,” Beverly volunteers. 

“Okay, great, and five of you can squish in the backseat. Mike claimed shotgun earlier.”

Everyone else groans while he flashes a smile and gives them finger guns.

“So charming,” Bev laughs and grabs Y/n’s hand. They run out to the car and squish in the trunk.

“Bev, I have to tell you something,” Y/n whispers.

“What?”

“I’m still not over Bill.”

“Thank you, Y/n,” she responds sarcastically.

“How did you know that? I only told Eddie!”

“It was just a little obvious,” she laughs. “And the good news is that we all think he feels the same way!”

“I don’t think he does, Bev,” Y/n shakes her head.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I told him today-”

“You what?”

“Shush!” she scolds as the boys get in the car. Luckily they’re all talking and can’t hear the girls if they whisper. “It just sort of... slipped out. But he didn’t even say anything. He just kind of… froze? It was so awkward.”

“You know he’s a little awkward around girls that he likes.”

“Is he, though?”

“Sure he is!”

“I don’t know, Bev. He stood there for a full thirty seconds without saying anything, and he just let me leave,” Y/n explains. “I think if he really liked me, he would have told me by now.”

Beverly gets quiet. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“Hey, it’s okay! The timing was never right, and that- that happens. And it’s better I know now so I’m not hung up on him for the rest of my life.”

The rest of the drive is mostly just Beverly telling Y/n that there’s someone out there for her, and to keep her eyes open at the restaurant. 

It’s a bright restaurant, very tropical and very flamboyant. A lush plant, obviously made of silicon, is the centerpiece of every table. 

Good, it can hide me from Bill and spare my embarrassment, Y/n thinks as she sits opposite him. Unfortunately, Ben asks the hostess to take it away so he can see everyone. Y/n is mortified. Being directly across from her, he can watch and judge the girl the entire dinner.

She tries her hardest the whole meal not to pay Bill any mind, but it gets difficult when he starts getting tipsy. And drunk Bill can be wild. Singing and dancing on the tables wild. Luckily he isn’t at that point yet.

She doesn’t even know how he was able to buy drinks here; he’s only nineteen. The waitress must have a crush on him or something. Maybe she and Richie’s neighbor could start a Bill fanclub.

Y/n has a feeling the waitress would ask for her ID, though, so she sticks to soda. And three Shirley Temples is never good on anyone’s bladder.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she announces. “Anyone else?”

Everyone shakes their heads. Everyone except…

“Me! M-m-me!” Bill waves his hand around like a hyper child.

“Great, I’m a babysitter now,” Y/n murmurs.

She starts walking to the bathroom, Bill hot on her heels. Surprisingly enough, when she finishes peeing, he’s actually waiting for her. 

“F-f-finally. G-g-girls take so long in the buh-buh-bathroom.”

She ignores him.

“Y/nnnnn,” he slurs. “I’ve been m-m-meaning to t-t-tell you, your a-a-ass looks fantastic in th-those shorts.”

“Because that’s not a rude thing to say at all,” she replies, feeling her face burn up.

“I’m n-n-not trying to be r-rudeeee,” Bill grabs her waist and pulls her in. Y/n can smell all the alcohol on his breath, and it’s disgusting. He kisses her full on the mouth.

She shoves him off, embarrassed by his behavior. “You’re drunk.”

“If b-b-being drunk makes me w-w-want to m-make out with you, I-I-I never want t-to be so-sober.”

That hits Y/n hard. Bill Denbrough wants her. But only when he’s drunk. 

He doesn’t love her in his right mind. This is all she has, and she can’t even fathom just taking advantage of him when he’s drunk. Using someone would hurt her in such an inexplicable way, and not to mention it would tear whatever small bond she had with Bill into shreds.

She plops back down in her seat, barely touching the rest of her food or speaking for the rest of the night.

When she gets to her shared room with Bev, Y/n takes a shower. She’s always loved showers because they’re a place where you can cry without risk of anyone hearing over the water running.

And that’s exactly what Y/n does. She lets the tears stream down her face, washed away by the showerhead’s water.

*******

Bill knows he got plastered last night, so it’s no surprise when he wakes up with a pounding headache. But he isn’t sure why Y/n is so quiet, especially around him. Usually she has a remark or at least a glare for him, but she seems almost meek today.

He pulls Beverly aside at one point, and asks if he did anything to her last night.

“I don’t know, Bill. You guys went to the bathroom at the same time, and when you came back, Y/n seemed really upset.”

“L-l-like angry, or s-sad?”

“Sad. But she didn’t tell me anything that happened. I’m sorry, Bill.”

“It’s o-o-okay. Th-Thanks, Bev.”

He spends the rest of the day trying to remember something- anything- from last night. Bathrooms. Bathrooms.

There are some vignettes. Y/n across from him, in that pretty top. Watching her ass as she walked to the bathrooms. 

Oh, shit. Bill made some sort of comments about those shorts. What happened after that? He kissed her, didn’t he? But why would that make her sad?

When evening rolls around, Bill still doesn’t remember anything new. He’s the only one in the living room, not even paying attention to the TV. His friends come bounding down the stairs, all wearing sneakers and athletic outfits.

“A-a-are you g-guys going somewhere?”

“Yeah, to the new rope climbing place,” Stan replies. 

“Where’s Y/n?”

“She has vertigo, and wanted to stay here. We thought you could stay here so she’s not alone all night.”

“You d-d-didn’t th-think about asking me f-first?”

“We drew names out of a hat,” Beverly steps in. “You just weren’t around when we did it.”

“Isn’t that a l-l-little ruh-rude to Y-Y/n? One of us is g-g-going to st-stay with her instead of h-having fun?”

“No, Bill, it was the opposite!” Richie tries to save the group, much to their chagrin. “We were voting on who didn’t get to stay home with Y/n. And you won! You get to!”

“Wh-what i-if I want to donate m-my win?”

“Doesn’t work like that. Wins are final.”

It’s all BS, and Bill knows it. There never was a hat draw, everyone knows that Bill and Y/n have a lot to work out, and they don’t want the two to go back from spring break with even more animosity for each other. 

Also, they know that the two have feelings that have been expressed so wrongly over the years. Maybe now it’s time to work them out.

“So we’re going to head out now; have fun with Y/n!” Eddie waves, and they run out excitedly.

 Bill sighs, not knowing what he’s going to do with Y/n all night. Maybe she’ll just be antisocial and hide in her room all night, but he personally hopes she won’t. He decides to hang out by the pool for a while, and changes into his swim trunks.

By the time he gets outside, though, Y/n is already there. She’s hugging her knees to her chest and watching the little waterfall intently.

“Hey,” Bill says, making her jump.

“Hey.”

“C-c-can I join you?”

She nods. 

“Why aren’t you with the others?”

“B-because I w-w-won their ‘contest,’”

“Contest?” she shakes her head, not understanding.

“To b-b-babysit you, ap-apparently.”

“Ah. Sounds legitimate.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just lets the sounds of the waterfall and the faint grasshoppers fill the silence. He’s sure Y/n doesn’t mind, though. When everyone else complained about the summer grasshoppers as kids, she would always dote on how they’re melodious and comforting.

Bill can’t hold himself back any longer.

“Y/n, what d-d-did I do l-last night?”

She turns to him. “You really don’t remember?”

“I re-remember making a com-comment, which I-I’m sorry about b-by the way, th-that was an a-asshole move. And I-I remember kissing y-you. But then what?”

Taking a deep breath, Y/n continues. “Well, then I pushed you off and told you that you were drunk.”

She pauses.

“And th-then?”

“Then you said, ‘If I want to make out with you when I’m drunk, then I don’t ever want to be sober.’”

That’s it? Bill thinks. He’s not stupid enough to voice his thoughts, luckily.

“Oh, Y-Y-Y/n, I w-w-was drunk. I d-didn’t know what I w-w-was saying.”

“Listen, Bill. I know you remember what I told you yesterday in the kitchen. And what you told me at the restaurant really hurt, okay?”

“Why? I-I wanted to k-k-kiss you,” he asks, genuinely confused.

“You’re such an idiot sometimes!” Y/n laughs incredulously. “You wanted to kiss me when you were drunk, not in your right mind!”

“I al-always want to k-k-kiss you in my right mind!”

“What?!” 

“I-I think I love you, Y/n.”

She’s frozen. Could he actually mean that? Has he been drinking again? Hearing that from Bill Denbrough has been her dream since… forever.

“I think I love you too, Bill.”

He jumps up from his lounge chair, and leans over Y/n. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and kisses her tenderly, gently. Her lips are just as soft as he remembers them to be all those years ago, softer than any other girl he’s kissed.

“Wow,” she beams as they pull apart. “I guess I knew this, but you’re a much better kisser than my ex.”

He laughs. “W-why, thank you. You’re n-n-not so bad y-yourself.”

“Thanks,” she giggles. “I just… I can’t believe this is happening. I feel like doing something crazy now, something outrageous.”

“L-like what?”

“Hm…” she thinks for a minute. “Do you want to go skinny dipping?”

“Okay, sure,” Bill chuckles. 

Grinning, she begins to peel off her one piece. She slips the straps off, and the rest slowly slides off her body. Her breasts are exposed first, then her stomach, then everything. Her skin is smooth and glorious.

Bill pulls off his swim trunks and throws them behind him. Y/n wants to tease him about his erection, but she’s way too shocked at his size.

They bask in the beauty of each other for a moment before they dive into the water, crisp and cool on their bare bodies. Y/n splashes Bill right in his face.

He pushes wet strands of hair from his ocean eyes. “H-how dare you?” 

“What are you going to do about it?” she taunts.

“This,” Bill says, throwing Y/n over his shoulder and taking her outside the water. She’s both screaming and laughing her head off at this point. He carries her all the way to the deep end and tosses her in. 

When she surfaces, Y/n makes sure to flip him off. 

“So r-r-rude.”

He cannonballs in, and they swim around, and eventually go under the waterfall. They end up making out and gasping for air.

“D-d-do you want to tuh-take this inside?” Bill whispers.

She nods, and they get out. As Y/n shivers, Bill gets them fluffy towels from a bin by the chairs.

Grabbing his hand, she pulls him through the sliding glass doors. They run around the house in nothing but towels, giggling and kissing and dripping pool water everywhere. The two finally make it to Bill’s room and go directly to the bed (after locking the door).

“Spruh-spread your legs,” Bill breathes in her ear, sending goosebumps up and down her body. 

She obeys and lets him kiss her knees, her thighs, and eventually her core. He pleases Y/n in a way her old boyfriend never did.

When she finishes, Bill holds her for a minute so she can catch her breath. Then, when he turns around to put on a condom, she moves against the wall.

“Oh, s-s-so you w-want wall sex n-now?” Bill raises his eyebrows.

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

Instead of using words, Bill throws Y/n up against the wall and kisses her roughly. Their tongues clash, and she loves every second of it. Then he goes in. He starts slow at first, but begins to pick up the pace with her approval.

“D-damn, you’re so t-t-tight,” he whispers while she keeps muttering his name.

“Probably because I wasn’t with someone as big as you before.”

Hearing that makes him turn redder than his hair. “Really?”

“Really,” she sighs. “Can you go a little slower?”

He listens to her, and almost screams in pleasure when she starts to suck on his neck.

They both finish in a couple minutes, and are pretty burned out- Y/n especially because she’s never made such rough love before.

She lies in his arms, back on the bed, and traces the love mark forming on his neck.

“I think I love you,” Y/n says for the second time tonight. 

“I-I th-think I love you t-too.”

They can’t help smiling for the umpteenth time in the past hour. Their stars had never aligned until now, and it couldn’t be a more perfect exchange of love. The wait was unbearable, but incredibly worth it. 

Y/n and Bill make each other feel whole, like there was a sort of void within each other, unfilled until now. 

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice is soft and gentle. “I’m so sorry about these past years. You know I have trust issues, but I took them too far and didn’t treat you right. And I’m so sorry.”

“I’m s-sorry, too. I’ve been an ass-asshole to y-y-you, a-and it’s m-m-my fault we broke uh-up in the f-first place.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/n frowns. “It was Evil Autumn’s fault.”

They chuckle. 

Resting her head on Bill’s chest, Y/n asks the dreaded question. 

“So what’s going to become of us? After spring break.”

Bill thinks for a minute, stroking her hair, and admits, “I don’t w-w-want us to c-c-cut each other off again.”

“Neither do I.”

“I think our sc-sc-schools are like t-t-two hours ap-apart; that’s n-not terrible.”

“It’s not,” Y/n agrees. “Maybe we could take turns driving every weekend, and find a halfway point or something.”

“A-an ex-exact halfway point,” Bill adds.

“An exact halfway point.”

They can make it work, they’ve got to. Both Bill and Y/n are extremely optimistic about the future ahead, now that every feeling has been sorted out between them. And even in the unfavorable event where things don’t work out, there will always be Palm Springs. 

Bill presses a kiss to her forehead. There’s not a chance that they won’t make it. The timing is finally, after all these years, perfect. 

[iamtrebleclefstories]

I Believe in Second Chances - Part 6

Drunken nights and wedding invites

A lot of you have been asking me when this takes place. The story is taking place during s9, which means that Derek is alive and the plane crash victims are currently in the process of filing a lawsuit against the plane charter/hospital. It still is SGH because the hospital sale has not happened yet. Things will all make sense and I will reference them further on in the story!

“Jo! Dude, wake up!”

“Huh?” Jo shot upright and looked around at her surroundings, trying to determine what was going on. 

“We’re gonna be late to the hospital. Put some pants on and get up from the couch,” Alex yelled from his place in the kitchen. 

“I don’t want to,” Jo groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago when I tried to wake you up the first time,” Alex smirked and took a sip of his coffee. “I’m serious. I have a surgery and you got a lecture with Webber and all the other interns in half an hour.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Jo stood up sluggishly from the couch, searching for her pants on the floor. “I’d much rather be in surgery.”

“Well, you can’t today. At least for the first few hours,” Alex walked into the living room and laughed slightly at Jo’s disheveled appearance. He bent down and picked up her jeans that had landed somewhere around the fireplace. “You looking for these?”

“Yes!” Jo reached out and began to slip her legs in. “How the hell did they end up over there?”

“You were pretty wasted last night,” Alex handed Jo the other mug of coffee in his hand. “I had to carry you inside because you couldn’t get out of the car without falling. I placed you on the couch and by the time I came back with some water and Advil, your pants were on the floor and you were knocked out.” 

“You know, it’s embarrassing how many times you’ve seen my ass,” Jo cringed. “Sure, we’re friends, but you’re also my boss and you live with another one of my bosses. Where is Yang by the way?”

“She left twenty minutes ago.”

“Great so she saw my ass too.” 

“She didn’t see your ass,” Alex rolled his eyes. “I covered you with a blanket before I went to bed last night. You were completely covered.” 

“How thoughtful of you,” Jo deadpanned. 

“Hey, I could have just left you lying there on the couch in a t-shirt and your underwear all night. But instead of being a jerk, I covered you up and made sure you were nice and warm. It is December after all,” Alex flashed her a smug grin. “It's a nice ass by the way.”

“What a gentleman,” Jo replied sarcastically and laughed at the way Alex rolled his eyes again. 

“Come on, let’s go. There’s a thermos with coffee⎯one third cup of milk and three teaspoons of sugar⎯and a grilled cheese sandwich on the counter,” Alex said as he threw on a jacket and slipped on his boots. He heard shuffling and a set of eyes on him. Alex turned to see Jo staring at him with a curious expression on her face. “What?”

“How did you know how I like my coffee?” Jo asked, brows furrowing. “I’ve never told you that.”

Alex chuckled awkwardly, “I just… I figured that’s how you might like it. I take my coffee the same way.” 

“Uh huh,” Jo continued to stare at him curiously. “You know, I find it kind of unfair that you just seem to know all of my quirks beforehand and I have to learn them as we go.” 

Not really knowing what to say to that, Alex shrugged, “Sorry?”

“Okay, sure,” Jo chuckled. “You are definitely way too happy about knowing so much about me.”

“Whatever, let’s go.” 

————

“You still haven’t made a move?” 

Alex was getting tired of the constant meddling of his friends. Today he was getting grilled by Cristina, Jackson, and surprisingly Bailey. “No I haven’t. I already told you guys that I’m waiting for the right time.” 

“Dude, well you better make a move before I do. She’s hot and I need to get over April,” Jackson frowned. 

“Shut up,” Alex shot him an unimpressed glare. “Over my dead body. Just figure it out with Kepner. Choose to be together. Don’t be an idiot that hurts the people you love. Same thing goes for you and Hunt, Yang.”

“Well, I don’t see you choosing to be together with Wilson,” Bailey said from her spot on the couch as she flipped through a medical journal. 

“You see, even Bailey thinks you’re being ridiculous,” Cristina snickered. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you waiting? She obviously likes you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t crash on our couch on average three nights out of the week. She literally passed out on our couch like four days ago. I walked out of the house and there she was on the couch, sound asleep while this idiot was making coffee in the kitchen and staring at her longingly.” 

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Jackson placed a hand under his chin. “This girl spends the night at your house on a regular basis and she sleeps on the couch downstairs? Not in your bed? Are you losing your touch? Is that what’s happening?”

“I’m not losing my touch,” Alex grumbled. He looked at his friends who stared at him with raised eyebrows. “Look, I know she likes me. I overheard her talking with the other interns a few weeks ago. But she’s scared because she’s been through some things that gave her some major trust issues. That’s why I’m taking it slow and waiting because I am not gonna screw this up. Not this time.” 

“Karev, you listen to me now,” Bailey pointed a finger at him. “Here is what you are going to do. My wedding is in three days. You are going to bring Wilson as your plus one to my wedding. You are going to be kind and charming and keep your hands to yourself and your eyes from wandering. You are gonna give her your full attention and then give her a ride home. And at the end of the night, you are going to tell her how you feel and let her think about what that means. Then, you just go from there. Understood?”

Alex huffed a slight laugh, “Yes Dr. Bailey.” 

————

“Hey! I heard you were on my service again today,” Alex smiled as Jo approached him. It had been a couple days since he’d truly seen her. Sure, they’d passed by each other in the halls, but the past few days had been especially busy for the both of them and he hadn’t seen her since she woke up on his couch almost a week ago. 

“I love peds. All the babies and kids and joy and magic,” Jo sighed dreamily. “Sure, it sucks that they’re sick, but kids really bring out the best in people.” Jo looked at Alex teasingly. “You especially. You’re a huge jerk to everyone else, but those kids bring this happy, soft side of you. It’s a good look. You should show people more often.” 

“And ruin my reputation? Nah,” Alex scoffed. “Can’t freak my friends out by letting them think that I’m not cold and dead inside.” 

“Well, I feel honored that I get to see this side of you,” Jo smiled. 

Her smile always seemed to give him butterflies. Something about that beautiful smile that awakened something deep within him. It was mesmerizing. So much so, that he often found himself getting lost in it. 

“Hello? Earth to Alex. You okay?” Jo waved her hand in front of Alex’s face. 

“Yeah,” Alex shook himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah I’m fine. Let’s go check on my pre-ops.” 

They did their rounds on patients before finally making it to the room of the child who’d be getting their surgery performed first thing today, “Hey Jenna! How’s it going?”

“Hi Dr. Kawev!” the small five year old girl gave him a toothless grin. “Look! I lost my toof last night!”

“Dude, that is so cool!” Alex high-fived Jenna and smiled at the parents. “Did you get money from the tooth fairy?”

“Uh huh,” Jenna nodded emphatically. “I got two dowwas.”

“Two dollars? Wow, the tooth fairy must really like you,” Alex looked back at Jo and pointed. “You see that woman over there? That’s Dr. Wilson and she’s gonna be helping me with your surgery today.”

“Girls can be doctows too?” Jenna’s eyebrows shot up in excitement.

“They sure can,” Alex nodded. “Girls can do anything boys can do. And a lot of times they do it better than the boys.” 

“Woah! That’s so cool,” Jenna’s eyes lit up. “I wanna be a doctow too!” 

Jo’s face broke out into a smile and she felt her heart flutter at the little girl’s words, “Really? Well, it’s going to take a long time and be hard sometimes, but you can do it.”

“Why did you wanna become a doctow, Dr. Kawev?”

“You know, nobody has asked me that before,” Alex paused and looked at the girl for a moment before responding. “Well, I have a younger sister and when she was a kid, one day she got really sick. So, I took her to the hospital to get some help because my mom and my dad couldn’t do it. And while we were sitting there, I saw all the hard work the doctors were doing to try to help my sister and it made me happy that somebody cared so much about a stranger’s life to save them. That day was the day I decided that I wanted to help people.”

“I wanna help people too,” Jenna decided. “But fiwst, I need youwe help.”

“You sure, do and we’re gonna take you up into surgery right now. Say goodbye to mommy and daddy,” Alex instructed and turned over to Jo. “Prep her for surgery and I’ll meet you in the OR in twenty.” 

They’d been in surgery for about an hour when Alex finally got tired of the looks Jo kept sending his way, “What? You look like you wanna ask a question, but you’re too scared to actually do it. Spit it out.” 

“I didn’t know that story about your sister that you told Jenna,” Jo stared up at him. “But, I’m guessing that’s not the full story and you only gave her the age appropriate answer.” 

Alex took a second to collect his thoughts before saying what had really been on his mind when Jenna asked him why he wanted to be a doctor, “My whole childhood, I was surrounded by people who didn’t have a problem hurting others. My dad was abusive and neglectful, my mom was sick and most of the time didn’t even realize that she was hurting us, even my school nurse took advantage of me when I was fifteen, nowadays, she’d be arrested for statutory rape. Then there were all the foster homes and parents that treated me like crap, like I was trash, and for a long time I believed them. All of these people were people that were supposed to take care of me and keep me safe, but instead, all they did was hurt me. And I usually got the worst of it, too. I was the oldest and I needed to keep my little brother and sister safe, so I took the beatings meant for them, and I ate less food so they wouldn’t starve, and I even stole a car to get my baby sister to the hospital in time for someone to help her. She couldn’t have been more than eight months old. 

“When I got there, it was the first time I ever actually had anyone take care of me and my siblings. The doctors went above and beyond to help my sister and gave me some food and let me stay with her in her hospital room that night. They gave a crap, ya know? And it was so damn refreshing because for at least one night, I was able to see that people weren’t all bad. Then we went home and I was back in that crappy, dirty house, with my abusive dad that was too strung out on drugs to even remember my name. That’s when I decided that I would never be like him. I would never be like the people that hurt me. I wanted to help people. I wanted to save them. I wanted to get out of that hell hole of a town and make something of myself. I wanted to prove everyone wrong when they said I would never amount to anything in life. And I’ve done that. I have proved them all wrong and I’m a freaking kickass peds surgeon and I don’t hurt people back . Not anymore. Not like I used to.” 

The rest of the surgery was conducted in silence. Because what could you really say after something like that? Every time Alex opened his mouth, Jo found herself falling for him more and more, which absolutely terrified her. She was sure that if she would’ve opened her mouth after his speech, the only words that would’ve come out would've been ‘I’m in love with you.’

That was ridiculous, though. Jo couldn’t be in love with him. He was too good, too kind, too perfect. And she was all shades of messed up and complicated that he couldn’t possibly want. As much as she wanted him, she knew that she couldn’t have him. Not with Paul out there. 

But sometimes the heart wins out in the end because Jo couldn’t bring herself to put distance between her and Alex. Instead, she kept getting impossibly closer to him. It was almost as if there was this thing pulling her, beckoning her to be with him and it scared the living daylights out of her because she kept giving into that tug ever single time. 

By the time the day was over, Jo and Alex had successfully performed four surgeries and were on their way to the bar for some drinks. As they were walking, Alex stopped, “Do you want to go to Bailey’s wedding?”

“Huh?” Jo wondered aloud. 

“Bailey’s wedding is tomorrow and I have a plus one,” Alex explained. “All my friends are going with their partners and I don’t really want to be alone so what do you say, wanna go with me?”

She knew what her answer should’ve been. It should’ve been no. Because this was not how you put distance between yourself and the person you were dangerously close to just word vomiting all your feelings to. That’s why she kind of surprised herself as the following words came out of her mouth, “Yes.” 

[englass]

Hold Her Tight (And Don’t Let Go)

Pairing(s): John Seed X F!Deputy

Warning(s): Yandere, possessive/obsessive behaviour, soft but unstable John; he has a very warped idea of things; mentions of blood and physical wounds.

Word Count: 2,963

Gifted To: @seedlingsinner

A/N(s): A gift for my darling Sinner; I really hope you enjoy this, hun. I tried to keep it soft, but... well, you know me haha. I can’t quite help myself sometimes. And look! I finally found a fic for that title; I knew I was saving it for something special haha. But seriously, I hope I got this right; and that I did her justice. Thank you by the way hun, for not only allowing me to write this for you, but for putting up with me and being an amazing friend. You really are a blessing hun, I hope you know that; and, before I forget: Merry Christmas, poppet! 💖 💖 💖

- - -

There is a hush over the land, a chilled lull that hints to the ending autumn just as much as it does the falling night. Early rays of tired light making the still dark sky blush with the faintest dusting of pink, colours catching in the reflection of crystal-clear dew drops as the night steadily inches towards the dawn. A new day quite literally on the horizon.

It’s peaceful, the yawning night slowly being sung to sleep by the bird’s melodic hymns, as many continue to wander dreamily within the landscape of their own minds. Unconcerned and unaware of the many battles that will no doubt erupt once the dawn finally breaks and this day officially begins; the same as any other, yet different nonetheless.

Deputy Rook knows this routine better than any; always the first to rise, to shed and spill blood in the name of her chosen faction – to drown her conscious deep below the water's surface as she fights in the name of a tarnished and frail justice, morals abandoned under the bodies she recklessly leaves behind – and the last to put her rifle down and let the temptations of sleep snare her into a fitful slumber. Yes, Rook knows her daily routine rather well.

Yet the days are still different, and on those rare days where the mould has been broken Rook would typically revel in the change of pace. Would let herself get lost in empty thoughts as the morning fog rolled in, taking in the sights of ghostly meadows and mist-drowned woodland as she slipped free from the collar of her obligations. The world an enclosure where she was the only occupant; a beautifully lonely solitude.

Today, however, is far from such a day.

There is a tension in the air; a wire worn thin by bitter exchanges and pulled too tight by vengeful encounters. Fear turned aggressive on the precipice of its snap, battlefield dusted as the two that tug and stress the wire to its fullest foam and snap like rabid dogs. Cruel jabs and nasty words constantly exchanged like devoted love letters over shifting radio waves.

Really if she was in a better condition Rook would continue this little game of theirs, reflecting every petty snark he threw at her right back like an ever-present mirror; would help to demolish this suffocating pressure and that infernal wire that strangles the Valley with a flourish. Or maybe even a good punch to the bastard’s face. That would be something; but sadly, you can’t have everything.

Especially when you are in Rook’s position.

“How are you feeling?” John asks, a sea of troubled blue staring intently at the injured deputy. Gaze occasionally flicking down to her exposed bandages, fingers twitching restlessly in his lap. “You’ve been out for a while now…”

Rook shifts uncomfortably, hand pressed loosely over her side as she weakly moves up the bed and away from John. Jaw aching as she grits her teeth against the sharp twist in her side at every wrong move or too deep a breath.

At her silence John swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. He hesitates, lets the silence carry as one of his hands comes up to lay habitually against his chest, absently smoothing over the lettering of his displayed sin. A soft concern lighting his ocean eyes, strangely aglow under the lamplight.

“I was honestly starting to fear the worst. You should really take better care of yourself, Deputy.”

Despite his touching, if not completely unexpected, worry Rook finds it easier to keep quiet. To rebel by denying him her words and, by extension, her compliance.

Admittedly, a part of her wants to question him – ask why she’s here, in his home and a bed, instead of incarcerated within his bunker, but she refrains. The fear of his answer holds her tongue; keeps the bravado muzzled and the curiosity leashed. Her self-preservation a blaring warning that on this occasion she cannot afford to ignore or misread.

John can be a loose cannon, unpredictable at the best of times; feathers easily ruffled and fangs quickly bared; and Rook is vulnerable, at his mercy even. It’s a match made in hell; a pairing far out of her favour; and sadly, this time there’s no wheelie-chair to be her saviour, nor no gun-wielding priest to come to her rescue.

She’d be surprised if anyone thought she was still alive after what had happened; she could only imagine the wreckage that had become of her plane after that crash. Hell, even she was surprised she was still alive; impalement was definitely not the way she envisioned dying, least of all to a piece of stray shrapnel, let her tell you that.

Although, she guessed she had John to thank for not making that a reality. For what it was worth anyway.

A sigh taps at the tension, the soft sound of shifting fabric trailing it as The Baptist shifts; turns to better face her and move a sly inch closer. Free hand gripping at the duvet beside her leg, just shy of touching her through the cover. Although she has no doubt that he’s likely considering it anyway.

“You know, this could have easily been avoided if you had just taken me up on my offer. If you had just listened to me and put that filthy pride of yours aside then you wouldn’t be here-” his eyes narrow, expression tightening as he amends his words with a strained, but hushed, “you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

For some bizarre and completely unexplainable reason, not at all brought about by past and recent experiences, Rook sincerely doubted that. If it hadn’t of been that plane crash then one of his men would have hurt her instead; shot her like a poor doe during the hunting season no less. Which, considering the way they address and mock her over the radio, is a rather disturbingly accurate way of putting it.

Regardless of his offer, of what he had attempted to try and promise her, Rook didn’t believe for a second that her blood wouldn’t be spilt in some way or another.

She was the enemy – she is the enemy. She needs to atone, as he so likes to continuously remind her. And if she had learnt anything from her last little rendezvous with the man it was that atonement wasn’t without pain. She hadn’t swam across that ocean yet; she wasn’t free from the burdens of her apparent sins without braving those dark waters first; without being courageous and giving him that ‘yes’ that he so desperately craves and thirsts after.

And she didn’t plan to.

So, forgive her for not exactly having faith in him when he says that she wouldn’t be hurt. When he promises her sweet, pointless salvation all for the measly price of her freedom and subjugation and… and something else she wouldn’t give him.

Rook didn’t trust his words then, didn’t believe them even, and she definitely didn’t trust them now.

John takes a steadying breath, finally giving into the urge to touch her as his hand finds purchase just below her knee. Pressing his weight onto her as he moves closer, swallows and pulls away the hand at his chest to reach over and grab her own smaller hand; the one pressed delicately against her injured side.

Despite Rook’s protest, a ‘don't you dare’ hissing scathingly between her teeth, the seething threat that it’s intended to be wavers. Her voice weakened by the pain that throbs through her like a second heartbeat; composure fraying under the stress like a noose with too much weight to bear.

John hardly pays her words any attention as he pries her hand away from the bandages as gently as he can, fingers lacing between her own and squeezing. A sweet act of reassurance; a sour display of dominance. A sharp inhale following at the sight of the vivid red that has started to bleed through the once clean bandages again; a muttered beration on his tongue.

The hand at her knee moves, practically skims up her leg until it’s hovering over her side, absently fiddling with the partially unbuttoned shirt that she had woken up in. That he had changed her into while she was out cold; while he took care of her. Pools of ocean blue glazing in contemplation as he eyes the covered wound; critical and thoughtful.

The hand behind her, vainly supporting Rook’s weight and efforts to create some form of distance between the two of them, claws into the sheets; grips them savagely as the anger clashes with fear and festers with audacity. The nerve of this man; what on Earth is he playing at…

“I know you don't exactly think highly of me, Deputy. That you don’t trust me,” John starts carefully, eyes briefly – shyly meeting Rook’s, “or anything I may say or do for that matter. But I need you to understand just how serious I was being, the last time we spoke. That my offer was serious. I meant what I said, you would be safe here with me, dear. No harm would come to you, I wouldn’t allow for harm to come to you. I wouldn’t…”

There’s a shakiness in his voice, an urgent fragility that has Rook leaning back ever so slightly; brow furrowed and eyes wide.

“I can protect you; I know I can. I can give you a life outside of the barbarism that is your so-called Resistance. I could give you anything you ever wanted, anything – name it and it’ll be yours. It’ll be ours.” There’s an upturn to his lips, small and hopeful as his eyes sparkle up at her through his lashes, blue impossibly bright and innocent and-

And then it’s gone. Erased by a quick swallow; eyes ducking back down to her bandaged waist with a new veil cast over them. Something indescribable, unreadable shifting the colours of his eyes in ways Rook can’t understand; the lamplight casting shadows that make the ripples in the water of his eyes all the more sinister; all the more focused.

“I know I was perhaps a little… forward in my intentions when I proposed, a little hasty even,” he laughs nervously, almost boyishly, “but I meant it. I would never lie to you about such a thing, darling. When I asked you to be mine, I meant every word. I’d do anything within my power to keep you safe. You have to believe me when I say that.

“You believe me, don’t you, Eleanor?”

Rook – Eleanor – doesn’t respond. She doesn’t know how to respond. She knew John to be a bit off the rails, what with the things she’s heard and seen herself, but this… this definitely wasn’t what she expected. She didn’t even know he knew her name, let alone that he was so serious about that deal of his; that poorly described ‘proposal’ as he called it. She thought he was joking, that it was just another ploy to try and lure her in, no matter how stupid it sounded. She thought he was joking…

She wishes he was joking.

Her silence is answer enough and John fidgets, knee coming up onto the bed as his other knee comes over his ankle. The hand playing with the corner of her shirt – his shirt, twisting the fabric anxiously between his fingers.

“I… I don’t understand, dear. I don’t…” There’s a sudden distance in his eyes, a strange vacantness that turns the water darker. Thoughts lost as he searches her; eyes darting between her own before they fall back to her bandages, expression twisting; a realised emotion, an acquired answer, dulling the shine in his vibrant eyes.

“Am I so void of love,” he reaches out then, eyes lost in the ocean of a newfound vulnerability, “am I…,” he hesitates, the pads of his fingers brushing against her skin, lingering over the apple of her cheek, “will I ever be good enough? Would you ever want me?”

The question rings like a bad omen, air bitter as Eleanor stares speechlessly back at him. His hand falling back down to the corner of her shirt as she silently shakes her head at him; a muttered ‘you’re insane’ slipping heavily off her tongue.

“… That’s not a ‘no’.”

‘That’s not a’- oh, for fuck sake, “Then what the hell do you want me to say?”

John laughs, a broken sound that fractures like glass.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to say ‘yes’. I want you to take me up on my offer. I want you to want me; just like I want you.”

There’s a weighted pause.

A slow and drawn out: “That’s never going to happen.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” John counters with something soft in his tone; something free and teasing; something dangerous. “Tell me, have you ever heard of co-dependency, Deputy? I know our relationship isn’t quite to that degree yet, what with how you constantly refuse my help and affections, but you have to admit it comes awfully close. We both rely on each other so much as it is. Our jobs, our lives, revolve around each other. So why not make it a bit more permanent, hm?

“Take me up on my offer, Eleanor. Accept it, accept me, and I will happily take care of everything. Rely on me, just as much as I rely on you, and I promise that you will never have to raise a weapon again. Depend on me and I promise you that you will be kept safe. Love me, and I swear on God himself that I will do anything for you; anything. I vow it to you, love.”

Eleanor can do nothing but stare at him, skin pale in the wake of this warped confession. A moment passing by far quicker than it feels before she tenses, winces at the pain her physical resolve causes, before she replies with a daring, but avoidant, “I will never depend on you for anything.”

“On the contrary, darling,” he says with a blooming smile, “you’re about to depend on me for everything. For you see…” he licks his lips, the hand holding hers pressing lightly into the bed, stroking over her pulse point, “I’ve wanted you for a while now. It’s why I made you that offer. Why I asked for you to stay with me, by my side.

“You denied me, yes, but that’s because you couldn’t see. Because you were scared of the truth, of what you would find if you were to stay with me. If you were to stay and explore this connection we have. But now…” he stops fiddling with the corner of the shirt Eleanor’s wearing, fingers gliding sweetly over her bandages with an absent caress, “now I have a way to make you stay.”

Just as dread chills Eleanor’s spine, a question crawling fearfully on her tongue, there’s a striking pressure and she chokes – gasps as John’s palm comes down harsh against her wound, fingers pushing and digging violently into her until it bleeds.

Her hand buckles under her; body falling, back arching on the bed as John rears up and over her, following so his hand keeps pressure against her bleeding wound as she screams. Head thrown back and vision blurred, tears cascading quickly down her cheeks and onto the bed as she frantically grabs and claws at his wrist with her free hand; the other still pinned and helpless against his assault.

Her legs kick out and then seize, the pain paralysing as she wails brokenly into the early morning. It’s sharp and it burns and she desperately wants to curl up into herself, to roll over and huddle into as small a ball as she possibly can to protect herself; but John is still hanging over her. His face right over her own, peppering her wet cheeks with chaste kisses and gentle hums and coos.

The hand pressing into her wound, now covered with the blood that quickly bled through the bandages, pulls away. Stops applying pressure only to stroke lightly over the sullied bandages and reopened wound; rubbing her stomach gently like one would while comforting a sick lover.

It’s a disgusting imitation of intimacy.

“Y-you,” she stutters with a sob, body shivering and stomach twitching as raw ice floods her veins, her teeth bared in a snarling grimace as a vile curse tumbles free; a vain and pitiful act of defiance.

“Oh sweetheart,” John coos airily, cruel and mocking, until a delirious laugh scratches at the edges of his words; an unseen frenzy colouring his eyes and rattling within his voice. A bloody thumb coming to swipe shakily, but affectionately against Eleanor’s tear-stricken cheek; the final jab in this long-played game of theirs, “it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I've got you. I’ve got you. It’ll hurt for a while – I know, I know; shh, shh – but it’s okay, that’s fine. That’s good. It means you can stay. It means you can’t get into trouble anymore. It means you’re away from those, those heathens and blasphemers.

“It means you’re mine.

“Oh, I promise, I am going to take such good care of you, darling. I honestly can’t wait. I am going to be so, so careful with you. I wouldn’t want for you to misbehave and make this wound of yours worse after all, now would I? It would be an awful shame if it wasn’t to heal correctly because of your needless resistance…

“Hm? Now, what is that look for? There’s no need to look so frightened, my darling. You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll look after you. I’ll take very, very good care of you…”

[msjr0119]

Return to New York

Part 3

Riley Brooks never returned after being thrown out of the Coronation. Liam cleared her name, and they tried to find her with no luck. One day they returned to New York and by fate she turned up at a cafe due to Daniels ‘meddling’.

Using combined tags for this one shot turned mini series- as always let me know if you want to be removed:

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816 @twinkle-320 @queenjilian

*****

“Please don’t marry him.” Drake sighed regretting saying this. “I just... I am in love with you Riley Brooks, and I can’t watch you with him... I want you to be happy... honestly I do... just give me and Cordonia another chance... then you can make your decision...”

“Drake, I’m marrying him in less than two weeks... I can’t ... I love you too... I... I should go...” Turning around she placed her engagement ring back on her finger, whilst shaking. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I was thrown out of the coronation Drake, here’s my number. Don’t be a stranger.” Fuck what am I doing? I don’t want to leave him. “Ri... I hope you’re happy. Don’t forget that I love you and always will do.”

Leaving the room she slid down the wall in the hallway unable to contain her emotions- almost reconsidering her actions, wanting to storm through the door and claim Drake as her own as she wanted to all those years ago. Wiping her tears, she was undecided about what her future held for her.

Drake threw the whiskey bottle against the wall as she left, feeling frustrated allowing her to walk away from him again. Believing now that it was never meant to be. The last time Drake cried was possibly when he had lost his father, years later he found himself crying over the girl he lost yet again.

*****

Eleven days after they returned to Cordonia from New York, Maxwell knocked on Liam’s study door. Usually the King would answer straight away- ignoring protocol the Lord barged through the door, immediately regretting his actions.

“Your Majesties, honestly....” Tutting and shaking his head. “Is this what they call working nowadays?”

“Maxwell! Get out of here!”

“Sorry Anna, Jesus I can practically see the baby’s head appearing...” Covering up his wife, Liam’s eyes widened a she focused his gaze towards his friend.

“Maxwell this better be important. What’s up?”

“Ohhh I’ll give you a minute to clean yourselves up... I just needed to ask a favour... rather than sex, why not try giving her a spicy curry?” Maxwell suggested- Liam grit his teeth, his wife felt him become tense. Pulling her pants back up, she jumped into his arms and passionately kissed him.

“I love you Liam, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too my queen.” Reaching for the scotch, he was annoyed that his friend had cockblocked him in his own private space. Sighing as taking a sip, he hoped that this was important and not nonsense.

“So?”

“Erm, I had an SOS call from blossom last night...”

“Is she okay?” Liam asked in a panic stricken tone of voice- he cared for Riley beyond words even when she disappeared out of their lives.

“I’ve been speaking to her since we left, she’s having cold feet. I can’t go to the wedding tomorrow and watch her marry someone she doesn’t want to...”

Riley was at her final dress fitting, most brides would be excited the closer it got to their wedding day- but not her. Covering the bruise up with make up, she had hoped that the dress would cover it up- which it did, luckily. The night of her kiss with Drake she returned home, Harry immediately smelt whiskey and cologne on her- in a jealous rage he grabbed her arm pleading for the truth from her, which she eventually confessed. Loosening the grip, he apologised immediately for harming her - reviving his normal personality, the one she fell in love with. Ringing Maxwell up on the way to work; she needed advise but didn’t want to inform him of the injury on her arm.

“Hey Max!” Maxwell excused himself from the table, gesturing for Olivia and Hana to follow. Ever since he found out that they had been in touch with her over the years, he had been plotting with them a way to get her back in Cordonia. Since their return, Drake had kept himself to himself- not wanting to talk to anyone no matter how hard they tried to convince him.

“Hey Blossom, how are you?”

“I’m ... erm.... I’ll be fine. How’s Drake?”

“Quiet.” The two women answered in unison.

“Hey you two. Max.... I keep breaking hearts, everyone is going to hate me. I just don’t know what to do. I want to run. I want to scream. I cry all the time.”

“Do you want me to come now?”

“No. I’ve got this stupid rehearsal dinner. Shit. I can’t do this.”

“You’re the stupid bitch who fucked her boss, got engaged to him. If you don’t want this don’t do it!” Olivia snapped, she had spent three years being frustrated with Riley’s attitude- she wasn’t exactly Drakes biggest fan but at this moment in time she knew that they were made for each other.

“Max, I’ll see you in a couple of days- I expect a good speech at the wedding. Love you all.”

After reiterating the conversation on the phone, Maxwell’s eyes pleaded with his friend- the King, to help him. “So what favour do you need?”

“I need the jet... for a runaway car- well plane- well jet... you know what I mean.”

“And what if she marries him?”

“Then I’ll be travelling back in luxury your Majesty- but you know how persistent I am...”

“I hope you succeed in bringing her back. Take Glen with you. I’d suggest Bastien, but I’ll need him here.”

“Yes Sir. House Beaumont will revive.” I hope so, Liam thought to himself.

*****

Riley added the finishing touches to her bridal look, unable to look at herself in the mirror- guilt for breaking Drakes heart. Drake. That’s the man she was thinking about on her wedding day to another man. Even during the rehearsal dinner, her thoughts lingered on Drake Walker- wondering what he was doing, was he thinking about her too? Providing fake smiles towards everyone that attended the rehearsal dinner, Harry had no inkling regarding Riley’s true feelings- if she learnt anything from Cordonia it was from Liam- his stoic expressions. Holding the three handwritten letters in front of her, she had an hour to make a life changing decision.

Maxwell opened the door slowly yet quietly not wanting to announce his presence, viewing her staring at her reflection in a trance- his heart broke for her.

“Surprise Blossom!” Lifting the white lacy material up, she turned towards him- tears flowing down her face uncontrollably. “You look beautiful Riley, like a princess.. you should be happy.”

“I... I can’t do this.... I can’t marry him Max...”

“Well you know what to do....”

“What?”

“Take those shoes off before you break your neck and run. I’ll race ya.” Still undecided about what to do, Maxwell knelt down- removing her shoes. “You don’t want this Ri. Don’t put yourself through anymore heartbreak. Follow your heart.”

“Can you do me a favour? Can you give these letters to Harry and Lissy?”

“Of course. Who’s the other one for?”

“Drake. If I went through with it, I needed him to know the truth.”

“Well you can give him it yourself. Then maybe have make up sex.”

“Max! We haven’t even slept together before. We’ve just kissed.”

“But I bet you had scandalous dreams about doing more with the handsome commoner?”

“Shut the fuck up- are you getting me out of this marriage or not?”

“Yes Lady Riley Of House Beaumont- I will deliver the letters. Then we run.”

*****

“Yo dude....” Maxwell shouted walked down the aisle, over dramatically bowing to the guests.

“Shouldn’t you be walking down with my bride?”

“Yeah about that... here... sorry dude but you’re just not the one for her. Nice knowing ya. No hard feelings mate, soz. See ya.” Running back up the aisle, through the echo of gasps- he knew they had to run before Harry convinced her to marry him. Entering the room, he hoped she was ready to leave.

“Whatcha doing still in your dress?”

“I can’t get the zip down... fuck it. Let’s go, I’ve been looking at flights.....”

“Don’t bother, we are travelling in style- the jets waiting quick!” Grabbing her arm, she stopped him.

“I need my things Max.”

“Why do you think I was late? Glen broke into your house and literally threw everything into boxes.” Before Riley could react, he grabbed her hand again- leading her out of the hotel. Running into the middle of the road- he hoped a cab would stop.

“Max!”

“What?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“But it worked it... so it’s all okay... jump in blossom.”

*****

After a long flight, they arrived back in Cordonia- Riley’s hair had become slightly dishevelled but Maxwell still believed she was still beautiful. Laying on his chest during the flight- he was eager to text Drake immediately, but decided against it. Feeling smug with himself for wedding crashing, he couldn’t wait to see everyone’s expression when he walked in with Riley.

Glen opened the door of the SUV when they arrived at Ramsford- Riley had fallen asleep again, deciding to carry her he was grateful that she was as light as a feather.

“Honey I’m home!” Maxwell shouted, laughing to himself. Walking into the lounge, he saw all their friends look gobsmacked that the spare heir, the ‘dopey’ friend had succeeded.

“What have you done to her? Drugged her?”

“Jet lag... why would I drug her Liv? Shh... she’s waking up... blossom? Welcome home baby.” Bertrand knelt down, he never believed in Riley during the social season but he was glad that she was home.

“Hello Lady Riley. Welcome back.” Helping her sit up, she rubbed her eyes- removing the remainder of sleep. Still wearing her engagement ring, looking at it made her for the first time feel guilty. “Thanks Bertrand. Nice to see you all.” Noticing that Drake wasn’t there she felt slightly disappointed but didn’t blame him one bit.

“Lady Riley, I’d like to introduce you to Queen Anna- my wife.”

“Hi Anna, Erm your Majesty. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

“And you too. I’ve heard so much about you. All these lot ever do is talk about the infamous Riley. Especially Drake.” Providing her with a soft smile, Riley tried to ignore the fact that she mentioned his name. Noticing Liam and Anna hold each other tightly yet lovingly, Riley in a way was glad with how the past events occurred.

“Well I did cause quite a stir during my short time here.. I’m just going to get a drink of water, have a wander around. Get my bearings again.” Maxwell was about to become her shadow until Olivia pulled him back down.

“What the fuck Olivia?”

“She needs this time alone...” Emphasising the word alone, everyone but Maxwell knew what she was referring to.

****

After helping herself to a glass of water, her mind led her to the ballroom. Closing her eyes, her memories from the infamous Beaumont bash rushed through her mind.

Welcome to the Beaumont Bash... you’ll recognise some of these fine floral arrangements as yours...

Brooks... you look...

Yes?

Ready for the party. Everything here really came together.

I know, right? Though... you don’t look like you’re dressed for the occasion.

You don’t like this look? This shirts clean.

I guess that’s the most I should expect. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dress up for these fancy events. It might be a nice change of pace.

Eh. Fashion is subject. Besides, people are here to see the prince, not me.

“Not everyone was here to see Liam. I wonder if Maxwell wants a replay of truth or dare tonight? If I was stranded on a deserted island, where I’d never see anyone or any civilisation ever again- I’d always choose Drake.” Laughing at the memory, she raised her glass into the air- to friendship.

“Be honest Brooks, you just want me there so I’m suffering as much as you are.” Turning around following the location of the voice, she believed that she was hallucinating. Seeing him leaning against the wall, folding his arms wearing that infamous smirk- she placed the water on the windowsill.

“Mostly just to see how you’d look in a grass skirt.” Both deciding to walk towards each other, closing the distance- Riley jumped into his arms holding him tightly. Leaning down kissing her, it somehow wasn’t the same as before. In his mind, this time someone had actually chosen him or so he hoped. Parting away from the brief reunion kiss- they stared at one another longingly, neither knowing what to do next. Drake still held her protectively and leaned back in- their lips crashing together, their tongues battling against each other’s, both fighting for dominance. Placing her back on the ground, he pulled her flush towards him- laying her head on his broad chest, she listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat increasing.

“I knew you’d change your mind. I knew you’d come.”

[maximumcatfeels]

So, this will eventually be a finished story, but for now… It’s Halloween. I’m excited. I just redid my icon and my header picture. And I just wanted to share this small piece with you guys.

It’s not Beta’d yet (obviously) and I’m hoping I can get the actual story done by New Years… but I don’t have high hopes for that time line :S

There is some bad language in it so far, so uh be aware? (Moira is cranky AF)

As for pairings : Currently it’s Pharmercy and Sigmoira – but it’s more that everyone thinks Moira and Sigma are together and they both dance around the issue. Also the Pharmercy is SUPER unhealthy. 0/10 do not model any relationships off of it, guys.

Anyways, enjoy.

________

Moira O’Deorain had troubling remembering things before her death. To be fair her death had probably been very traumatic, if the shackles on her wrists and ankles were any indication. That and typically one didn’t turn into a banshee if you happened to pass on peacefully. (Actually, she didn’t know anyone that turned into a banshee after death besides her, but that was neither here nor there.)

That being said, Moira did remember a few things. She had been a witch in a small coven in the woods outside Aldersbrun. She used to have two dogs and a pet rabbit, plus a small hutch of rabbits she kept for meat and … magical experiments. Her little cottage near a large pond was dilapidated now, but it had been quite cozy when she had been alive.

She also knew - like she knew her own name - that the Witch of the Wilds, otherwise known as Angela Ziegler, was a massive winged cunt.

A massive winged cunt who was currently knocking on the rotted remains of her cottage door.

“Sod off!” Moira yelled through the door, rummaging in a ratty torn bag, checking that it had what she need to check her snare traps. She didn’t have time for this, she needed to get out and (hopefully) get some rabbit meat for dinner.

“Oh Moiraaaaaaa,” the literal witch sing-songed, apparently ignoring her, “is that anyway to talk to an old friend?”

“If you were an old friend, you’d know that is how I talk to everyone, now feck off!” Moira yelled over her shoulder, stuffing her favorite skinning knife in the bag. Thank the moon and stars she had a ward on the door keeping the bitch out.

“You didn’t use to be like this,” lamented Angela. Moira looked over her shoulder and noted the blue eye of the witch looking at her through one of the many holes in the door.  Did this witch know no boundaries? “I would know, you know. Since I’m an old friend.”

Moira resisted the urge to poke the witch’s eye out with a long clawed finger. She was pretty sure that Angela couldn’t break the ward as long as no part of her got through the door. Sadly, if Moira poked her eye out, she’d probably get some blood on her claws and then Angela would be able to get inside. Pity.

“I don’t have friends now, and I doubt I changed that much from when I was alive. Now leave!” Moira barked out as she slung the bag over her shoulder. She needed to get going, the sun was rising and she had shite to do.

The blue eye that had been peering through the hole in the door retreated. “But wouldn’t you like to know for sure?” came the purr of a determinedly persistent witch. “I could restore your memories, you know. And your house.”

Moira mouthed the next words sarcastically as Angela said them, “I would only ask for a very small thing in return.”

Every single time, this is how the conversation between them went. Moira was tired of it. Maybe being blunt would help get rid of her. She didn’t want to open the door with Angela right there. Bitch might take it as an invitation to come in.

“No. I’ve seen what you ask for in return! Quite frankly, I don’t even know if I have a soul anymore, so stop asking!”

“It doesn’t have to be your soul…” Angela purred. Moira could see that she had plastered herself, well-endowed chest first against the door, a half lidded blue eye peeking through a hole. “Your mind or magic will do…. Hmmm, maybe even your bod-“

“No!” Moira was not going to play those games! Especially not with her! “Don’t you dare even go there! I am done with this conversation! Now leave before I start screaming!” She would start doing her banshee wail, if that’s what it took to get rid of this witch on her doorstep, but she’d rather not. She’d probably wake half the forest, and Akande, the fish monster living in the pond, did not appreciate that.

“Wait!” The witch sounded genuinely panicked. She had also stumbled away from the door a step or two, just in case of screaming.  “I just wanted to beg a favor of you!”

Moira scoffed. That wasn’t new either. “Let me guess, you got bored with your latest conquest and ‘accidentally’ did them a mischief?”

“No!” Now Angela just sounded indignant. “Fareeha is doing just fine!”

Moira rolled her eyes. How well could anyone be after having their soul stuffed in enchanted armor and their original body possessed by another spirit?

“What I need from you, my beautiful banshee,” Angela continued in her sultry you-definitely-want-to-take-this-deal tone, “is help me and my servants in assaulting the Castle this year. It happens tomorrow night, and I believe with you on our side, we can have the upper hand for sure.”

Oh bollocks, it was that time of year again, wasn’t it. She had finished her warding preparations last week, but she needed to stockpile a few extra days of food, too. Moira sighed, she had to get rid of this witch, now, or else everything would be behind schedule.

“No. I’m working.” That was… not the best answer, but it was fairly accurate. Angela didn’t need to know what the work was exactly.

“What do you mean working?! You’re dead!”

Maybe a dose of truth would get her to leave, Moira thought as she snapped back, “Every single fucking year, you either win or you lose your fight with the castle defenders with minimal difference either way, but the rest of the fae and supernatural folk suffer. When you win, the humans send more hunters, who tear up the forest looking for you but finding the rest of us poor sods. And when you lose, there’s a power struggle between idiots until you reform.”

The witch was silent for a moment. Moira hoped that she would take the hint and leave now, but sadly, the brat then asked, “And what does that have to do with you?” and Moira’s already thin patience frayed even more.

“I sodding live here, you insufferable harlot! I have to deal with the aftermath!”

“Harlot?! Harlot?!“ Ah, shite, now the witch was pissed off too. “How dare you! Like you’re one to point fingers!  I bet you’re just going to go disappear for a few days with your own man whore, the astro-mancer who lives on the edge of your territory!”

Oh. That. BITCH. That was it!

Letting her fury take over, Moira threw open her door and screamed right in the stupid witch’s surprised face.

The force of her scream forced the witch to topple backwards and be dragged by the sonic blast along the gravel laden ground of the walkway.

“Ugh. I don’t know why I even bother!” The witch huffed as she got up; reaching for her fallen hat and tugging her rumpled clothing back into place. “I’m just trying to help you!”

“I don’t need your help! Now begone!” Moira screeched, no longer caring about the neighbors.

The witch plopped her signature hat back on her head, hopped on her broom side-saddle and flew away with only a “hmph!” thrown over her shoulder in lieu of a goodbye. Which was fine by Moira.

“Good riddance.” She muttered under her breath.

She stepped outside (finally!) and shut the door behind her. But as she turned back to start down the gravel path, a new visitor zipped into view. Oh god, it was that annoying will-o-wisp, Lena. What else could go wrong today?

“Yes, Lena?” Moira sighed.

The Will-o-wisp rocked back and forth on her heels, mischievous smile plastered on her face, “Sooo, I couldn’t help but overhear part of your row with the Witch…”

Moira dug her claws into the strap of her ratty bag. “Get to the point,” she growled.

“You ARE going to the astro-mancer’s house instead of helping her, aren’t you?”  Lena asked, cocking her head to one side.

Moira counted to ten in her head, then exhaled. “Yes-“

“And you ARE setting up wards at his place to keep her out, right?” Lena interrupted.

Moira blinked. She set up those wards to keep the bitch out, and keep her from bothering poor Siebren yes. But why was Lena asking this now? “Well, yes but-“

“AND you ARE setting up protections to keep hunters away too, right?”

Moira was still confused as to where this was going. “Yeeessssss….” She answered slowly. “But what does-“

“Do you think Emily and me can spend a couple of days crashing at his place, too? I helped defend the castle last year,  (and they don’t need me this year thankfully) but I think the witch is pissed off at me. And yeah, she can’t do nothin’ to me, but she might target my new girlfriend Emily. Well, I say new – but is it really new if you were already dating in a different dimension? Anyways, have you met Emily? She’s a doll! Best human I’ve ever known! We need more humans like her! She doesn’t even ask about how I technically don’t exist in this plane or why I’ve got a pumpkin shackled to me chest-“

Moira blinked a few times at the sheer amount of word vomit Lena was spewing in her direction. But eventually her mind caught up and parsed the first question.

“Lena!” She said sharply to get the will-o-wisp to shut up for two seconds. “It’s not my house. You’d have to ask Siebren if he would allow it.”

“But what about your wards?”

Moira furrowed her brow. “What about them?”

“Don’t you have to let us  in or else I’ll get poofed?”

“No? That’s not how they work. Who told you that?”

“Sombra! You know, the new bride of Junkenstien’s monster that actually doesn’t want anything to do with him? Anyway, Sombra said you had to uh…’white-list’ us to get in through the wards or else we’d be poofed!”

Moira had NO idea what the hell Lena or Sombra were talking about. “Look, Lena, the only people who can’t go near Siebren’s house are the Witch of the Wilds, her known cronies, and hunters. Everyone else can go into his house as long as you politely ask Siebren, the actual owner of the house. So go ask him, not me!”

Lean’s face lit up. “Everyone can go?”

Moira froze. Oh shite. She should not have told Lena that. “Now, Lena, wait! Hold on a mo-”

But it was too late, the seed had been planted. Lena started babbling again, “Oh oh oh! We could make it a party! We could invite all the fae and supernaturals of the forest! Like a giant feast and slumber party! Oooooh! We could do party games! Like bobbing for eyeballs! Or pin the tail on the hellhound! Ahhh! This is the best! I’ll go ask him right now!”

Moira called out, “Wait, Lena!” but Lena just chirped “Thanks luv! Hope to see you there!” and zipped away like a hyper active flea.

Moira stood there in silence for a second, her mind reeling. The wards were done and so were the protections to keep nosy hunters away, but she didn’t have nearly enough food for a party much less several days of waiting out hunters with that many mouths to feed.

“Well,” came a low smooth voice behind her, “you know your soft hearted idiot mage is going to say yes to her. And yes to anyone else that asks.”

She turned around to see Akande, the fish monster, resting his head on his arms on the shore of the pond, webbed feet kicking lazily behind him.

“Good morning, by the way,” he added with a small wave of his webbed fingers. ”It’s always so lovely to be woken up by a screaming match between two magic users before the sun has risen. Especially when you are nocturnal and trying to fall asleep.”

Moira sagged her shoulders. “How can I make it up to you this time?”

Akande smirked. “Make sure there’s a tub of water filled for me at your precious Siebren’s place. I’ll come by and ask for his official permission tonight.”

She groaned, and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand, but nodded.

“Oh and don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get the word out that the guests for this particular party need to bring their own food provisions. I sincerely doubt you’ve got enough stashed away for that many people. Besides, you’ve only been hoarding human food, have you not?”

Moira felt a surge of gratitude, “Yes, all the food has been for him, so I don’t have to leave and restock it.”

“And what about for you? Do you have some food for you tucked away?”

Moira shook her head. She trod a weird line between fae and undead, so her sustenance needs were tricky. If Siebren remembered to put out offerings of milk and honey, she’d be fine, but usually he forgot and she’d have to sneak in eating the life force off a passing bird or another small creature while he wasn’t looking.  “I’ll be fine.”

Akande raised one fishy eyebrow, but didn’t call her out on it. “Well, at any rate, I’ll bring in something as payment for the hospitality.”

Ugh, every time Akande brought her food it was a large stinky fish. Only now it would be several large stinky fish. Great.

“You better get going; the sun’s rising. And I know you don’t do well in the noon-day sun. See you later tonight, Moira.” And with that, he pushed himself back into the pond and disappeared into the water.

Moira sighed one more time for good measure and then set off to go find some food for the upcoming “party”.

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Winging It - James 2:14

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael. Rating: T  

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: *insert joke about an archangel loose in London here*

***

“So what’s your plan? Making me drive around at random just in case he happens to walk by?”

“Do you have a better idea? One single-”

“Say ‘one single better idea’, angel, and I’m kicking you out of the car.”

“No, you won’t.”

The certainty in Aziraphale’s voice was honestly infuriating. Crowley made a face, taking a rather daring turn while overtaking a lorry. “How come you always assume I won’t follow up on my threats?”

“Because you never do.”

“Well, it might be all part of my plan to deceive you.”

“Oh?”

“Like crying wolf, but the smart way. And when you least expect it, I will follow through.”

“That would be diabolical,” Aziraphale conceded, trying and failing to hold back an amused smile. “You wily old serp-- the bus! Watch out! This would be-- oh, the most inconvenient time to get discorporated!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been driving since before driving licences were invented.”

“You’d have never passed the test.”

“You only say that because you tried and failed.” A swerve to the left, then a sigh. “This is hopeless. I have no better ideas but I can tell you, you do not find a missing guy in London by just driving around and hoping to bump into him. Not literally bump into him. But I’d like to.”

“He can’t have gone that far.”

“He might have if he hopped on the Tube. Maybe he did. Went all the way to Heathrow, got on a plane, fucked off to… don’t know, Tenerife or something. A nice place, except when planes crash on each other at Los Rodeos. I got a commendation for that, but had nothing to do with it.”

Aziraphale groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t know how I’d explain that to Michael.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to Michael,” Crowley reminded him, and glanced over as Aziraphale pulled out his phone and tried to make a call. “Still nothing?”

“Nothing. He must have turned it off, or maybe it ran out of… no, it’s supposed to never run out of battery. He just turned it off.”

“Or some guy on a moped snatched it right out of his hand. Happens a lot.”

“Let’s… assume that did not happen. For my sanity,” Aziraphale muttered. “He’ll… turn it back on, sooner or later.”

“That would be ideal. We could get in and pop out on his side, and then proceed to stick the phone up his--”

“Crowley.”

“What? He just ran off on us - and we’ve been trying to help, and to great personal cost in my case. Why would he do that?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “Maybe he needed some time alone. Maybe he felt upset, or humiliated.” A pause. “... Maybe he’s just an idiot.”

“Now you’re making sense,” Crowley muttered, turning to glance at the street around them, then sighed. “This is hopeless. Our best bet is waiting for him to turn on that phone or call,” he said. Aziraphale could only nod.

As the car pulled away from the curb to return to the bookshop, a fly buzzed out of the rolled-down window.

***

Later on, once he would be able to think straight again and that awful sickness - hangover, it was called - was gone, Gabriel would be rather grateful for the fact nearly everything he'd said had been dismissed as the ramblings of a drunken man. 

Because he was drunk and he did ramble. A lot. 

"So. You were cast out of Heaven just last night, huh?"

"Yeeeeeessir. Just-- off with the wings-- and I got a penis at some point-- boom, a bolt of lighting--  and I landed in the middle of Soho."

A raised eyebrow. "Oh, of course. As you do. Aliens land in Manhattan every single time, seems only fair we get angels in Soho. And how may I call you?" the man asked with a laugh, leaning back against the tree and taking another swig himself. He'd drunk easily three times Gabriel's amount, and wasn't even tipsy. 

Gabriel took another swig himself. He found it pleasant, how it went down his throat and how warm he felt. Like nothing was wrong, or at least nothing he couldn't fix. "Archangel Fucking Gabriel," he informed him, leaning forward with a grin. "Going by Gabriel F Archer now, but-- wait.  Waaait-- Hah! I just got what the F stands for!"

Another laugh. "Hah! Nice to meet you, Archangel Fucking Gabriel. My name's Daniel Brown."

Oooh, now that was a familiar one. Gabriel grinned widely, leaning forward. "Daniel! I knew someone named Daniel! My favorite prophet!"

"Oh? So you met him?"

"Yes! He had visions, I was sent to explain them to him, and-- hah!" Gabriel threw back his head and burst into laughter to the point his sides almost hurt. He wheezed out the rest of the story, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "I'm there all 'fear not, fear not', but he got so scared, he fell flat on his face right there and then! It was hilarious, I tell you - I had to pick him up from the ground. He was ill for days. Frail stuff, mortals,” Gabriel added, blissfully forgetful of how he’d stopped a car with his face earlier that day, and needed to be miracled back to health before his mortal life could be snuffed out. “Delicate."

“Hu-uh. You know, I think I might have to pick you up from the ground if you have any more to drink. You really can’t hold alcohol, can you?” 

Gabriel entirely ignored him. He took another swig and then sniggered before raising his hands and repeating what he’d thundered to the other Daniel, so long ago. “Behold! I will make known to you what will happen in the latter time of wrath, because it concerns the appointed time of the end-- hey! Hey!”

“No more for tonight,” Daniel said, holding the bottle well out of Gabriel’s reach. His arms flailed uselessly, and he almost tumbled forward; a hand braced against his shoulder was the only thing that spared his face a meeting with the ground. Which was soft, really, the way grassy soil is. Come to think of it, his eyelids were beginning to feel heavy. Maybe he should sleep, wasn’t that what humans did when their head spun and eyelids got heavy? Take a nap?

“Ah, look at you. Drunk as a skunk after half a bottle, and you’re not that small!” 

A laugh, and a pair of hands grasped him under the shoulders, brushing where his wings had been. The memory of what had happened almost made it back to his mind, but the laughing voice above him was reassuring enough and it did not. Gabriel looked up to see the moon winking at him through the tree branches, and thought that it didn’t look so pretty from Heaven. 

Then he shut his eyes, and for a time he didn’t think about anything at all.

***

“... They lost an archangel.”

The incredulity in Dagon’s tone would have been slightly insulting, if Beelzebub had allowed themselves to think that, technically, they had lost him as well. A few minutes without watching him, and he’d taken off. Figuratively, of course, because he still didn’t have wings.

While listening to the conversation between the Traitor Crowley and That Other Traitor From Upstairs had given them no clue as to where That Insufferable Archangel may be, it had at least reassured them that the Heavenly forces had no idea either. They didn’t even know he was missing, which gave Beelzebub an advantage they had no intention to squander. 

“Yes, they lost him. I haven’t called you here to repeat what I said. I have called you here to find him. I want all demons available on the ground in London, immediately.”

Dagon nodded, efficient as always. At least something, Beelzebub thought, still worked the way it was supposed to. “Of course. What should they do once they find him? Contain him, or--”

“No,” Beelzebub cut her off, waving their hand, which also served to scare a few flies away, if only for a moment. “Once he’s found, they’ll report to me. I already told you, this is personal.”

A nod. “Right. I’ll get all our demons searching.”

“Good. It is imperative that they find him before… those two do it. Or the ones upstairs. The pathetic little lie they were fed won’t buy us much time.”

“Of course,” Dagon nodded and turned to leave, only to pause when Beelzebub called her back. 

“Remind them to avoid any confrontation with the traitors. It’s not that we fear them, of course,” they added, just a little too quickly. “But we truly don’t need the hassle.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And the archangel is not to be harmed. I still believe we can win him over for our cause. Any demon who harms him will have to face my wrath - makes sure we’re clear on that.”

Dagon - who was the Master of Torments for a reason and also just so happened to have a drill on her - smiled, showing off two rows of sharp teeth. “I’ll drill it in their minds,” she said.

Beelzebub’s gaze fell on her coat. “Tell me you don’t have a drill in your pocket.”

Dagon’s smile widened as they held it out. “About my application for the title of Master of Puns-”

“I am not hearing this,” Beelzebub droned. Truth be told, they didn’t even remember where the application had ended up. It was entirely possible someone had used it to clean after the Hellhound before it was sent out to find the Antichrist and proceed to do absolutely nothing of any use. “You are the Master of Torments and Lord of the Files. Two titles are enough.”

And I’ll throw myself into a giant fly trap before I let you have one more title than I do. 

Dagon looked disappointed, but didn’t argue. No one with even an inkling of common sense would start arguing with the Prince of Hell.

Gabriel had, of course. It had been annoying, when he’d been an Archangel; being challenged by him while he was an infinitely weaker mortal whose life could be snuffed out like a candle thrown in the ocean from the deck of the Titanic had been… more on the amusing side.

Gabriel did not, in fact, possess an inkling of common sense. Back before the Fall… back before the Fall--

Beelzebub let out a buzzing noise at the sudden pain in their head, the flies around them dancing wildly, and immediately dropped that thought. It was pointless; Satan himself aside, they remembered very little of who they were and what they did before the Fall. And it was fine.

If something hurt to remember, it wasn’t worth the trouble of remembering at all.

***

Gabriel’s head hurt.

He could have complained, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to. As far as his extremely limited experience in awakenings went, this one - waking up with a headache inside a blue tent he didn’t remember  entering - was, by far, the least traumatic yet. 

Of course there was some confusion, especially when he poked his head out to see the man he’d met the previous evening stirring inside a sleeping bag on the ground. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and blinked as he put him into focus. 

“Oh, here’s the Archangel. How are you feeling?’

“My head aches-- wait, what--??” Gabriel panicked inwardly, blood turning into ice. How could that mortal know - wasn’t he mortal? Had he been fooled by a demon, or an angel, or--

Daniel threw back his head and laughed. “Hah! So you don’t remember? You got so drunk last night, you kept muttering nonsense about being the Archangel Gabriel.”

… Oh. Oh.

“Ah. Yes. I… don’t remember that,” Gabriel muttered, finally crawling out of the tend and standing upright. His back was sore, too; he stretched, getting a faint pop out of his spine. It didn’t feel too bad.

“I had never seen anybody get that shitfaced with half a bottle of beer,” Daniel was muttering, wriggling out of the sleeping bag. Gabriel had a feeling he was supposed to be offended, but he frowned at something else. His gaze went from the sleeping bag on the grass to the tent, and then back to Daniel. Had he-- left the tent to him?

“You didn’t have to sleep outside on my account,” he said, embarrassed. The man shrugged and stretched. The crack coming from his spine was much louder. 

“Ah, not a problem. It’s still mild this time of the year, I don’t mind sleeping outside from time to time. Will be different in a few weeks, but by then you’ll hopefully be back on your feet.”

“... You, too.”

“Heh. My situation is pretty complicated.”

“So is mine.”

A sigh. “Ah, well. Nothing will be solved if we stand here and mope. Let’s head out - there is a McDonald’s nearby. Nice staff, a toilet, cheap breakfast, and wifi for job hunting.”

Oh, Gabriel thought, of course. Jobs. Human’s livelihood almost entirely depended on their ability to produce something of value; of course he’d be expected to have a job. 

Well, I did lose my job, didn’t I? 

“... Of course. So, you-- said you lost your job?”

“Ah, that was a link in the chain that got me here. First my health, then my job, then my wife, then my home,” Daniel said, and scratched his cheek. “Still luckier than a friend of mine was. ‘Fit for work’, they said, because he could walk unaided for fifty feet or something. Benefits cut. He went under a train the next month, wheelchair and all. Turns out he wasn’t fit for work.” A sigh. “Would like to think he’s in a better place. My wife, too.”

I could make enquiries, Gabriel almost said, but he did not. It would require getting in touch with Heaven, and he… he couldn’t do that; the thought alone made his stomach clench. Another idea entered his mind - he could try asking Beelzebub, if they could be found, whether they were in Hell. Certainly, if not there, they’d be in Heaven. Still, he didn’t want to do that either.

Gabriel could think of no nice way to tell a mortal that his loved ones are in Hell.

***

Michael was rather certain paperwork was the closest to a taste of Hell you could get in Heaven.

Of course she wasn’t entirely new to it; a certain amount of paperwork would always be part of life, be it mortal or… well, not. Heaven didn’t run itself, after all. As its population grew with mortal souls who had gained themselves entry - only angels dwelled on the upper floors, of course, and aside for a few rather extraordinary souls getting a promotion their number had stayed more or less steady at ten million since the Schism - Gabriel had taken it upon himself to organize things in a rational manner, to hand out tasks and ensure they were carried out. 

“Heaven won’t run itself,” was precisely what he’d said, and God had approved of his ideas - or at least, they had never sent Metatron to say otherwise, which counted as approval. It had to, didn’t it? It was the most logical way to ensure they followed the Great Plan and got to the final war organized and prepared. If God were displeased, they would make it very clear. So their silence, stretching out for millennia, had to mean they approved.

Everyone had done their share, including herself, Sandalphon and Uriel - Gabriel’s closest aides. None of them below him, but all of them more than willing to leave most of the bureaucracy to him; it was his element, after all, and he’d enjoyed the task in ways they never would have. But now he was gone, and they had to pick up where he’d left off.

And to be completely honest, Sandalphon’s expression spelled out, it absolutely sucked.

“There is… a lot more backlog than I thought there would be.”

“Well, we were expecting the world to end,” Uriel reasoned, going through some notes that had piled up on Gabriel’s desk. A perfectly white and perfectly pristine computer took over the other half of it, everything in it filed away meticulously, but Gabriel had clearly never gotten the time to go through that pile. There was the army to rally, after all, the entire order of existence to change, which would make that work rather useless in the even of either victory or defeat.

Nothing had changed, and yet everything had. No war had come but oh, did Michael feel they had been defeated, in some way she couldn’t quite grasp. Not the whole of the Heavenly forces, of course, but them personally. They had lost a valuable asset, after all. A friend who had been stripped of his angelic nature and now wanted nothing to do with them for something they had not chosen or wanted. And at the moment, it felt they had lost their sense of purpose as well. 

For so long they’d prepared for a day that did not come; now they had no instructions. They should have paid more attention on the observation files; no one really really looked at them until Michael had realized something about Aziraphale was off. Gabriel hadn’t thought of it either, but why would he? Who’d have ever thought an angel would turn against the Great Plan - and turn out, in some ineffable way, to be the one in the right?

Had it truly been part of the Ineffable plan, or was it a failure from their part? Surely, if it was part of the Ineffable plan, they had been meant to fail. It should have made the sense of failure burn a bit less, but it did not. It seemed unfair. And with what had befallen Gabriel… it seemed cruel.

God doesn’t play games with the universe, Gabriel used to say. 

Ah, but did God play games with us? Is this what we get for serving the Almighty?

Michael shook her head, trying to get rid of that thought, and looked up… only to see that same thought mirrored in the faces of Uriel and Sandalphon, plain as day. Wondering. Questioning. 

“Let’s get to work. When-- if Gabriel returns, he should find everything in order,” Michael said.

No one really believed that might happen, but there was that tiny sliver of hope to cling to. 

Against all odds they had been wrong before, after all. 

***

“... Is something wrong?”

“Hmm?”

“I get a feeling I’m being stared at,” Gabriel muttered, glancing around as discreetly as possible. There were a few glances towards their table, which he couldn’t make any sense of. He was eating like everybody else in there, in hopes it wouldn’t make him sick again. 

Daniel shrugged, eyes still fixed on the screen of his phone, scrolling down what Gabriel assumed was a job listing. He had a half-eaten egg and bacon sandwich in his other hand. “Ah, they’re looking at me. I do get looks like that.”

“Why?”

“Homeless guy sitting at a table. I always get some looks. They’re probably wondering why I’m here with a smartphone in my hand. People act funny when homeless folks have phones. I wonder how else they think we can apply for jobs.”

“What’s wrong with having a phone?”

“Ah, nothing. But it ruins the idea they have of poor folks dressed in rags, holding up an empty bowl and going Oliver Twist at them. Please, sir, may I have some more?”

Gabriel frowned in confusion, and glanced down at his own sandwich, still untouched as he ate the hash brown. “... You want my sandwich?”

“Wha-- no, no, it was the quote. Oliver Twist?” he tried. Gabriel blinked, mind drawing a blank. 

“... Ah, nevermind. By the way, there is an app you need to get. It tells you if any places are giving away free samples of food in your area. Bakeries do that a lot.

“Oh.”

“Also, there is a gym open all day and all night not far from here. Invest some money in a membership card.”

“Huh? Why?” Gabriel asked, confused. Not that he did not see the point of physical exercise, but why pay when jogging is free?

Daniel grinned. “Showers accessible all the time, and a locker to keep any valuables you really are not safe having with you in the streets. Plus, it’s someplace warm to be if it gets really cold.”

“I see.”

“You really want to keep yourself as clean as possible, to keep looking the way you do now. You don’t seem homeless. I would have never guessed when we met.”

Gabriel glanced down at himself. He was still wearing the track suit, but the coat he had on was rather nice and, while he had some stubble on his cheeks, it was a far cry from the untamed beard on Daniel’s face. That was probably going to change, he thought; his body hair would grow, too. He mentally added ‘shaving’ to the growing list of human skills he’d need to master.

“That’s a good thing, by the way,” Daniel was saying through a mouthful. “It’s easier if you look like someone with an office job and someplace to be at night. I know I should try to look less like the part, but ah, it gets so tiring after a time.” One last bite of his sandwich, and he stood. “I’m getting another coffee. Want more? My treat.”

Gabriel shook his head. He may not know exactly how much the money he had left in the wallet was worth, but he could tell he had more than Daniel; making him pay for his coffee did not sit well with him. Plus, he probably should moderate in his intake of food and liquids. 

“No. No, I’m good,” he said. As Daniel went to get more of that oddly bitter beverage, Gabriel went on to start his sandwich, and took out his phone.

***

Aziraphale almost missed the call. 

In his defense, the phone decided to ring just as he was preparing a good cup of tea for himself as well as black coffee for Crowley, who’d then add sugar while hoping Aziraphale would not notice that he did not, in fact, ‘like his coffee black and bitter like the deepest pits of Hell’. Not a problem, that: he’d pretended not to notice for four centuries, he could keep up the act. 

Or at least he would have, but he’d dropped both mugs as he rushed to answer the phone, leaving Crowley to miracle the pieces back together. He snatched the receiver up mid-ring. 

“Hello? This is--”

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel’s voice rang out. Oh, thank God, there he was, safe and sound. Or, well, at least alive. He didn’t sound like he’d been hit by another car, at least.

“Gabriel.” Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief. “Where are you?”

“Why the Heaven did you run off like that, you arsehole?” Crowley called out from the back. 

If Gabriel heard him, he entirely ignored him. “I’ve met- there are people sleeping in the streets.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Yes,” he said. “Homelessness is a terrible problem in London.”

“I thought that was sorted out in… I don’t know. Industrial revolution?”

Ah, he really knew little to nothing about the world. “It was never quite sorted.”

“You could sort that out,” Gabriel pointed out, an accusing note to his voice that made Aziraphale frown again. Did he really think he could find homes for everybody who needed one with a snap of his fingers? Did he really think it would be that easy?”

“There are limits to what we can do to help humans. We can’t just take charge of their fates.”

“Why not? We know better,” Gabriel said, like he hadn’t been about to let the entire world burn without thinking twice about it so that he could have his war.

“... I’ll pretend I haven’t heard that. I help when I can, if I do happen to meet--”

“It’s not enough!”

“Oh, if only someone hadn’t reprimanded me several times for frivolous miracles whenever I did helped too many people! What have you ever done?”

Aziraphale sort of regretted saying that a few moments after the words left his mouth, but also sort of… not. He was trying to help, and Gabriel wasn’t making it easy. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line, and he expected protests, but there was only silence. He took a long breath himself. “Tell me where you are, and--”

Click.

Ah. Of course. Of-bloody-course. 

“... I suppose this is the wrong moment to remind you we could have teleported ourselves to him through the phone line instead of politely asking where he is,” Crowley muttered, raising an eyebrow. Aziraphale groaned, and tried to call back, to no avail. 

“He turned off the phone. Again.”

“Well, we did our best. Here’s your mug, like new.”

“Crowley.”

“What? We don’t know where to find him anyway. He made it through the night and wasn’t dragged to Hell, so not a bad going. Let him figure out a few things by himself and talk about important stuff.”

Aziraphale found himself smiling. “South Downs?” he asked, and Crowley grinned back. 

“Yes. South Downs."

***

"What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them?" James 2:14

***

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We Walk Like Humans Do, Chapter 1

The Transcendence has been, on the whole, a good thing for magical creatures... for the ones that walked on two legs and fit in doorways, at least. Lacie has other problems to overcome before she can live in the big city.

Inspired by @marshmellowextract‘s ideas on the TAU Discord.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

               The Transcendence has been, on the whole, a good thing for magical creatures. True, there’s been no shortage of misunderstandings and pro-nat sentiments over the years, but all those centuries of hiding away from humans had been just as harmful.

               Humans are everywhere, after all. Avoiding them means avoiding most places on Earth, holing yourself away in dwindling forests and as-of-yet unexplored cave systems. Some could pass as human and live in their cities, but pre-Transcendence accounts of disguised elves or vampires often spoke of the burden of carrying such an immense secret, the disconnect they felt with any humans they befriended. They could never truly live as themselves.

               For some magical creatures, the Transcendence changed that. The Transcendence let them live freely amongst the humans, let them attend their schools and work alongside them to better the world.

               For some magical creatures, the Transcendence was the single best thing that had ever happened to them.

               For others?

               Well… for the less humanoid ones, they didn’t notice so much of a difference. For Lacie, she was still hanging out in the same old sewers she’d been hatched in.

               After all, when you’re a giant basilisk several bus-lengths long and capable of killing a man with a single glance, there are more obstacles to living in the city than ‘not feeling like you can be true to yourself.’

________________________________________________________________

               A snore rumbles through the depths of London’s sewers. Deep, deep underground, somewhere in a maze of rank-smelling tunnels sloshing with wastewater, there lies a hidden door, and behind that door slumbers a vicious, terrible monster guarding a tome of forbidden knowledge.

               That’s how the treasure hunters always describe Lacie’s home on the forums, and honestly, she finds it a little insulting. They’ll go on and on about how much the place stinks and how loudly she snores; it’s like they expect her to fix it or something, and… no? This is a sewer, it’s going to smell bad. And she needs to sleep, so it’s going to be noisy, too.

               If they’re gonna come down here to try and slay her and steal her shit, the least they can do is stop being so goddamn whiny about it.

               Like, look at these bozos coming in now. Lacie was having such a peaceful nap until they started messing around with the hidden door.

               She cracks a tired eye open, and glares at the sound of their voices.

               “No, it’s this one!” A rock shudders on the wall. “Didn’t you read the riddle? You touch the symbols clockwise!”

               “How did you get clockwise from the riddle? It’s way more complicated than that; the cipher clearly states-”

               “A-B-C-D. Clockwise.”

               “No, that’s- ABCD? Where on earth did you get ABCD?”

               Lacie lets out a rumbling sigh. Incompetent treasure hunters, oh joy. She shifts a little bit on her pile of gold, and waits for them to bumble their way into a solution so she can go back to  sleep.

               “Look, I don’t know how you’re getting ABCD, so why don’t we try my way first, and if mine doesn’t work-”

               “It’s absolutely not going to work.”

               “It will! I took a class in cryptography once, I know how this works.”

               “Ooo, aren’t you special.”

               “Look, just let me work, will you?”

               “Do it fast. Ugh, it smells like death down here.”

               At least it’s more bearable than your voice, Lacie thinks. She snorts at her own joke before hooking her tail around a wooden sign and dragging it in closer. She’ll need this later - quite a while later, most likely, but it’s good to be prepared.

               “That didn’t work?”

               “Of course it didn’t work, you idiot. I’ll open it-”

               “Hey, wait, maybe I did that wrong! Let me try that again!”

               “No, you had your chance!”

               “Just let- hey, get off me!”

               “No, you get off me!”

               “Come on dude, just let me try-”

               After listening to the treasure hunters scuffle and shout at each other for what felt like forever, Lacie hears a click in the door’s opening mechanism. The whole thing starts to rumble and dust loosens from the ceiling as it opens inwards, revealing… well, she doesn’t look at them directly in case they’re dumb enough not to bring basilisk protection, but she makes out two human figures with rifle-shaped sticks, which they immediately point at her face.

               “There it is!” The first man ushers the other back. “Stay behind me!”

               “Stay behind you? Dude, I’m a way better shot.”

               “What? No way, you are not!”

               “I totally am. Don’t you remember back at the range-”

               Lacie lets out a hiss before they can get into another stupid argument. She points the end of her tail at the sign, and it takes them a second to notice.

               “It’s doing something weird.”

               “Quick, let’s shoot it!”

               “No, look, that’s a sign it’s holding!” The second guy peers at the message. “Says ‘Fighting not needed, can’t let you take the physical book but am posting all chapters online at https- wait, you have a website?”

               She nods. A blog, actually.

               “Don’t be stupid.” The other guy gives him a shove. “There’s no way it has a website; this is some sort of trick!”

               “Yeah… yeah, you’re right! Wait, how is it a trick?”

               “Obviously it’s to confuse us and distract us from getting the treasure!” He cocks his rifle. “We have to stay focused! Stay behind me, I’ll get this thing right between the eyes-”

               Lacie finally looks down at the guy. Their gazes meet, the guy’s eyes widen; he yelps and staggers back, dropping his rifle and slapping a hand over his face… but he doesn’t drop dead. A second later, he peeks out behind his fingers.

               “I’m… still alive!” He cackles. “These contact lenses really do work!” Ha! Take that, you dumb lizard!”

               The other guy high fives him. “Yeah, take that! Now let’s kill this thing!”

               Huh, they’re slightly more prepared than she thought. Lacie stares at his smug smile a moment longer, then swings her tail around and dashes both of them against the right wall.

               There are no contact lenses that protect against blunt force trauma. They let out short-lived screams, cut off as soon as their bodies crash against stone; there’s a chorus of splintering cracks, then silence as they crumple to the ground amongst a pile of other shattered skeletons.

               Lacie looks at them now. Listens to all the familiar noises that could be heard in the absence of their voices - the dull roar of running water, the drips that fall from the ceiling and splash in puddles, the tinkling of gold coins as she shifts her weight.

               All the things she could hear, now that they were dead.

               Does she feel bad?

               Eh… sort of.

               She feels... more frustrated than anything else, these days. It’s not like she doesn’t give them a chance to escape, and they are trying to kill her… but still. It’s such a senseless loss of life - especially for such young, stupid humans - and over what? Some useless book?

               She turns and glares at it now, sitting on its little lecturn at the far end of the room. Stupid thing.

               One day, she will be free of it.

               But for now, she’s tired. She lays her head on glittering gold, closes her eyes, and falls asleep to all the quiet, comforting sounds of her home.

               She probably starts snoring, too… fuck, they’ve made her self conscious about it.

________________________________________________________________

               Chapter 7 of Wizard Animago’s Not-So-Secret Spellbook - His Shitty Death Spells and Why They’re Not to Die For, Seriously

               Hey everyone, this is 18Lacie5 back with another chapter overview. I know it’s been a year since I last posted, sorry about that. I’m usually way too tired to work on one of these - the joys of being cold blooded in England. Annnnnyyyyywwwwaaaayyyy, here is the much-anticipated chapter on ol’ Animago’s secret death spells!

               Spoiler alert: it’s gonna disappoint you.

               Now, for anybody new reading this, Sironus Animago was a 19th century English wizard that specialised in the study of animal transmogrification. If you don’t know who he is, that’s because he was a recluse who hated humanity so much he spent half his life trying to turn himself into literally anything else. The only time anybody hears about him is generally in treasure hunting circles, concerning a riddle he left behind for ‘any man worthy enough to learn his secrets.’ It is said that he wrote a spellbook containing all the knowledge he had accumulated over his lifetime, and considered it so dangerous he bound a basilisk into guarding it after his passing.

               Well, I am that basilisk, and I’m here to tell you why Animago’s spellbook is stupid and absolutely not worth dying for.

               This chapter’s an easy one: his death spells suck. Even by pre-Transcendence standards, they suck. He wasn’t the slightest bit interested in offensive magic, and I’m pretty sure he threw these ones in here because hey, every spellbook’s gotta have a spooky scary dark magic section, right?

               Let’s examine the first spell of Chapter 7: ‘Planis fugere a mortalis huius’ (a moment of silence for that Latin.) So ‘fly away from this mortal plane(s?)’ sounds pretty and all, but it’s way too poetic to be a reliable spell. Unlike the standard modern equivalent, which is, you know, just ‘Die’, your magic’s gonna have to figure out a whole lot about this sentence before it puts it into action. Fly away, how? Where are they flying to? What could count as our ‘planis’ here? The ground?

               You see how easily this could result in something like giving your enemy a pair of wings instead of killing them. Great. That’s totally what you’d want to happen in battle, right?

               This issue would have come up immediately in testing, which leads me to believe it was a purely theoretical spell of Animago’s, and not a particularly good one (but hey, at least it’s original this time, right?) As with all of them it does come with the minorly unique addition of alternate pronounciations in five different animal forms, but again, unless you’re turning yourself into a chicken, a dog, a hawk, a bear or a snake on a regular basis, when are you ever going to need this?

               All in all, probably the worst chapter in the entire spellbook, with sloppy, overly complex incantations I’d toss away in a heartbeat if not for the fact that I’ve been bound into protecting them. Next post, we tackle chapter 11: turning your furniture into animals!

               (Because that’s what your couch is missing. Teeth and claws and an ability to run away from you.)

               Do s both a favour, and don’t make me kill you over these shitty spells.

               Curled around her favourite pile of gold, Lacie scrolls down her blog, reading its contents with drooping eyes. She uses her tail to move a laptop’s trackpad, which makes it a little difficult to navigate - the frustration she feels whenever the clicker shoots off in random directions is the main reason she’s still awake - but not as much as one might be expecting, as the laptop is not an ordinary laptop.

               It’s gigantic. The screen is bigger than her, and the top almost scratches against the ceiling. Carefully balanced above the wet stone on four smaller gold piles, the charging port is wired up to a truly massive, glowing purple power strip. It hums with magical energy, charging her laptop as she gets to the end of the blog post.

               ‘Do s both a favour ’... ah, typo. Lacie shoves her mouse in the general direction of the edit button for a few seconds before landing on it; now she clicks, adds a u, and struggles her way back to the main page.

               Fixed. That was totally worth the effort.

               She lets out a snort, which turns into a great big yawn and leaves her head resting on top of the laptop. The metal’s got some warmth to it; she feels that against her cheek, and almost immediately starts struggling to keep her eyes open.

               This was a mistake, she thinks. Come on, she literally just got up! She can’t go right back to sleep!

               Just a little more time… to herself… without any… any humans… she was supposed to... to...

               The distant whoosh of water overhead and the steady hum of the power strip lulls her closer and closer to sleep, and she tries one last time to lift up her eyelids-

               And plop.

               A little water droplet lands right in her eye, and she jumps. Rises up, blinks rapidly - first to get the blurriness out of her vision, then to get rid of the sleepiness already creeping its way back in.

               She shakes her head to clear it. Once she’s mostly awake again, she lets out a triumphant little puff of air: not today, sleep! Not when she’s got shit to do!

               With that, Lacie turns back to her laptop and mouses over to another tab, titled ‘List of Craig’ and next to it, ‘(1)’ for one new message.  She’s been waiting for that (1) to show up - hopefully she hasn’t taken too long to respond back.

               The tab opens after she jabs left click a couple times, revealing a short chatbox:

L at 20:25: [is that double length chalk shipment still available?]

M at 20:35: [yes]

L at 20:36: [would be very interested in buying that, are you are ok with teleswitch methods of payment? you don’t have to wheel it anywhere, just let me know where it is in the house]

               Fifteen whole minutes later at 20:51, there’s the much-anticipated reply:

               [k]

               Lacie reads this, and has a sudden urge to smack her head against the keyboard. With a growl rumbling in her throat, she gets typing

L at 20:52: [okay, where is the shipment in your house? what room? the spell i use needs this.]

               She sends it off… and waits, scowling at the chatbox.

               And waits...

               And waits...

               And is still waiting. Stars, maybe she could’ve taken a nap.

               Speaking of that, her eyelids are starting to droop again. She huffs and shakes her head in a couple quick, flicking movements; that jolts her back awake, and she clicks back to her blog page.

               The latest post on chapter 7 stares back at her. In the dim-lit room, it’s glaring down on her, almost accusingly.

               Next post, it reads, we tackle chapter 11: turning your furniture into animals!

Post updated: less than two minutes ago

Post uploaded: more than two years ago

               Lacie sighs. This is what happens now when she takes a nap.

               Years, they’ve begun to pass her by like nothing . All she remembers of the past two are groggy hazes, half-recalled dreams; the only times she’d wake would be to fend off the occasional treasure hunter, then back to her slumber she’d go, like that was her only purpose in life.

               It didn’t used to be this way. She didn’t used to feel so tired all the time. Why?

               ...She’s getting too big for her home. The magic that sustains her, it isn’t enough anymore.

               That’s got to be the explanation.

               Which means she’s got to get out of here. She’s got to break that damn binding that tethers her to the spellbook…

               Lacie shoots a look at it now. Glares at the stony grey lectern it rests on, and everything piled around the base of that. The wax candles. The incense burners. The unholy artefacts. The tomes upon tomes of academic research, summoning circle references, nonstandard incantation guides…

               She has to break it.

               By any means necessary.

               …

               She’s got a new message from the human.

M at 21:13: [I put it outside for you. Its in the back yard. Your welcome.]

               With an eyeroll, Lacie wraps her tail around the lectern’s pole and brings it in closer. The spellbook slides precariously around the surface it’s resting on, but with a bit of care she places it down in front of her without anything falling off the edges.

               Now, the book - she peers at it now.

               As always, it looks like a mess; its leather binding had been handmade by Wizard Animago himself, but only because the guy was too paranoid to have anybody else do it. He did a sloppy job, and over the centuries it had fallen to pieces until the only thing holding it together anymore was a couple remaining strings and a headache-inducing cocktail of protection charms.

               For Lacie, it’s tiny, making it incredibly hard to flip through. She can’t help but wonder if it had seemed this tiny the last time she’d opened it… maybe she’d grown a little bigger since then.

               Stuffing that thought down, she keeps flipping; past Chapter 2 on transfiguration, past Chapter 3 on general transmutation, Chapter 4 on alchemy… Chapter 5, there it is.

               And bingo bongo, there’s the spell she wants: ‘Sironus Animago’s Telekinetic Switch’... and Lacie can’t help but snort at that name, because it isn’t actually a spell he invented.

               Like many less-than-reputable wizards of his time, he had a habit of stealing spells from contemporaries in other fields of magic, slapping his name in front of them and trying to pass them off as his own to pad out the number of chapters in his spellbook.

               (The internet was a terrible invention for guys like him. Lacie had a lot of fun ripping into this practice when she wrote about Chapter 5.)

               Anyway, while she could find the original spell anywhere on the internet, there is something Animago added to every entry he wrote down in his book - that something is off to the far right, almost obscured by the yellowing and curling of the page.

               Here, next to five simple illustrations of a chicken, a dog, a hawk, a bear, and a snake, are the alternate pronounciations of the spell.

               Lacie squints at the last line - her mouth moves as she refamiliarises herself with the incantation - then she nods to herself, and scoops up a generous portion of gold coins, and closes her eyes.

               Pictures a backyard, with a crate full of summoning chalk, just waiting for her to pick them up.

               And with that in mind, she speaks.

               Not in words. Not in a language. She speaks in hisses and spits, in a string of meaningless noises that fit better in her mouth than any human tongue. At the end of it, though, that specific arrangement of sounds triggers an enchantment, which triggers the telekinetic switch.

               The coins in her grasp blink out of existence. A second later, they’re replaced by a crate of summoning chalk. It rattles when she picks it up; the sound echoes around her room until she puts it down by the rest of her demon supplies.

               There’s a lot piled up there now, Lacie thinks. Enough to summon a demon, and at that, she grimaces. Suppresses a yawn.

               She’d better get on with it, then.

________________________________________________________________

               Lacie is starting to think that maybe demons don’t design their summoning rituals with basilisks in mind.

               She’s cleared a space in her room for the circle - has shrunk her laptop back down to normal size with one of Animago’s spells - and now that it’s time to draw the thing, she’s encountered a problem.

               Have you ever tried to draw a chalk circle on wet stone tiles? Have you ever tried to do it without hands?

               It is, in a word, difficult.

               Fortunately, she’d seen this issue coming from day one. She bought a shape template from some website selling school supplies, and blew it up with the same sizing spell she uses on her laptop. She put that over a stone slab she pulled off a drier part of the wall, traced the circle, and voila! A summoning circle.

               (She still needed to decorate it, but she’d rather intentionally chosen a demon with a simpler design. It didn’t take too long to replicate, all things considered.)

               Now onto the candles. To Lacie’s eternal disappointment, there’s no spell on the books for fire, or heat, or anything like that; she has to get creative. While rifling through the backpacks of some ex-treasure hunters, she comes across a portable gas cooker. The ignition is a simple switch she can flip - tick tick tick fwoom , it goes, then fire.

               She keeps that close to her, ready to use.

               After that… The incantation. She physically can’t pronounce the Latin chants needed to perform a sufficiently compelling summoning, which is a big problem. Most powerful demons - ones powerful enough to break bindings - tend to be rather picky about how they’re summoned. Unless it’s done exactly right, they won’t bother showing up for her.

               She needs a demon that’ll be a little more forgiving, and after pouring through textbooks, how-to guides, summoning lists, there’s only one name that seems to fit the bill.

               Lacie lights the candles, one by one, and watches as the circle of Alcor the Dreambender begins to glow.

               Strange things begin to happen. Shadows lengthen. The air gets colder - she feels that like a punch in the gut. In the centre of the chalk lines, a wispy black smoke forms, and golden eyes open from within the darkness.

               Those eyes… Lacie isn’t used to being scared of things, but she stares into those eyes and knows, suddenly, definitively, that she isn’t the monster in the room anymore.

               They turn to look at her now, and-

               “Ow!” The void-black being winces back, rubbing its forehead. “What the heck? It’s like a migraine… what is this?”

               She blinks. Huh, her stare works on demons. They didn’t mention that the summoning guides.

               The demon’s straightening again. “Is this a binding? Because guys, I’m gonna be real annoyed if you tried… to… to bind me with..? Guys?”

               It looks around the circle in confusion… then up, up, following the line of her body to meet her eyes again.

               “Oh.” It gives a hard blink. “Ow, okay. You know you’re supposed to give me a sacrifice before you sic me on the big scary snake monster, right?”

               Shit, it doesn’t see the sign. She holds it up higher.

               “Like, at least a little bit of candy for starters, y’know? Just to be like ‘Hey, I appreciate you for coming all this way’ and I’ll be like ‘Thanks! Now I actually feel motivated to save you from-’” It notices the sign, and pauses. “Um. Hang on a second, I’m missing something.”

               Lacie watches the demon read over the sign: BOUND TO SPELLBOOK, it reads, DEAL TO BREAK BINDING IN EXCHANGE FOR HUMAN SACRIFICES? Its glowing eyes steadily widen, and it glances back up at her.

               “Wait, you summoned- agh!” It blocks her stare with a hand. “You summoned me?”

               She nods.

               “Okay, that’s… new. What did you want again… spellbook... break binding to spellbook- human sacrifice?” Its eyes narrow. “Where are these humans you’re talking about?”

               Putting down the sign, she points at the pile next to the door. Most of them are bones by now, but hey, apparently some demons like that. She watches this one inspect them.

               “Oh, they’re… not fresh. Where did they all come fr- ow ! Okay, please stop with the staring, that’s not gonna work for me!” When she obligingly averts her gaze, he lets out a sigh. “Thank you. Now, uh, I kinda wanna know where you got all these bones from?”

               He sounds way more bothered about that than Lacie thought he would. A little panic fluttering in her chest, she flips the sign over and grabs her carving rock.

               “What are you…? Oh, you can’t talk, can you. Alright.” It shuffles its feet. “You wanted me to break a binding… I can see it now. Connected to that book over there?”

               Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Alcor float closer to it. Closer, closer, too close - it tiggers something in her, and she has to stop writing to block it with her tail. Has to let out a hiss at the literal demon; thank the stars its eyes widen in understanding instead of darkening in anger.

               “Oh, you’ve been bound to guard it,” it says, stepping back. “I see. Sorry. So, those bones - they’re from people who tried to take it, right?”

               Thank the stars again that it realises, because she isn’t even halfway done with the message. She nods.

               “That makes sense. Wow, that must be some important spellbook you’re guarding, huh?”

               An important spellbook - Lacie can’t muffle a snort as she shakes her head. Alcor laughs too, though he sounds a little bit uncomfortable.

               “Oh, that, that’s gotta suck. I’m sorry, uh… What’s your name? If you have one- oh stars what am I saying, ‘if you have one’ that sounds so rude -”

               With another snort, she points at a welcome mat she’s carved just in front of the hidden door.

               “‘Welcome to Lacie’s home. You found the way in, now’ - heh - ‘find the way out.’ I like that, it’s funny!” He grins up at her. “I guess these guys didn’t- ow . Agh, sorry, I was gonna say, I guess these guys didn’t see the sign when they came in, huh?”

               A head shake; they did not. They certainly didn’t laugh at it either.

               (To be fair, they were generally too busy gaping at the giant basilisk in the room to give an opinion on her decorations, but it was nice to finally get a little validation. She is funny sometimes, isn’t she?)

               “Didn’t think so.” Alcor straightens his cufflinks. “Well, Lacie, while I don’t think I can technically count this as a human sacrifice, it should still be more than enough to break any basic bond. So ,”

               She watches him extend a hand wreathed in blue fire, hears him speak with a voice that brings back a little of that initial fear, reminds her that as friendly as he may seem…

               “D̵̜͍͖̘o̱͖̙̰̪̥̹͜ w̹͖̝̩͢e ̵̲͓̖h͇̹͖̞̦̠̮͘a̤̰v̹͔͚̭̦͜e̻ ̻̘̭̫a̩ ͈̳̯̯̰̣̪d̕e͇̪͍̜̻̪͘a̙̻̬̦͔ͅl̲̝͓͔?”

               She’s still dealing with a demon.

               “Wait, uh… you don’t have to shake.” He retracts his hand, demonic reverb gone as suddenly as it showed up, but the memory of it is hard to shake. “You can just, you know, nod or something, that’s fine.”

               Lacie thinks hard on that for a moment. She glances back at the spellbook, the stupid, useless spellbook she’s been bound to, sitting on a lecturn in a room she’s been trapped in her whole life, a room that’s getting smaller and smaller as the years go by.

               She’s outgrown this, she thinks. It’s time to move on.

               “Hang on a second.”

               Alcor’s voice makes her turn. He’s closed his eyes, and there’s a frown on his face that Lacie doesn’t like the look of. She leans in closer, listening to him mutter to himself.

               “This isn’t- now how did he do this…? Oh. Oh , that’s not… dammit, that’s not good.” He opens his eyes. “Uh, Lacie? Got some bad news: I, uh, can’t break the binding.”

               ...What? Why not?

               She blinks, watches him struggle to explain.

               “I-I mean I can, technically! But not with this deal - not that I don’t want to help you, but… it’s complicated. Demon deals are complicated, there’s got to be a give and a take and it sucks, it’s...”

               She watches him sigh. Frowns, as he looks away.

               “Look, uh, I was going on the impression that this was a simple guardian bond, but it’s not. I didn’t think - you know, you were laughing when I said it was an important spellbook or something - I didn’t think it was gonna be some high-level magic… but it is.” He clenches his fists. “He’s managed to bind it to your soul , and that gets tricky for demons. There’s got to be a give and a take, right? And if I give a soul freedom…”

               … he has to take another’s , Lacie thinks, and narrows her eyes. Is this heading where she thinks this is heading?

               “I have to take freedom too, which… well, you don’t feel like selling your soul to me, do you?”

               No no no, that’s the one thing all the manuals said never ever to do! She shakes her head vigourously, and he gives a quiet chuckle.

               “Yeah, didn’t think so… I really did want to help you with the binding, but I can’t. Not without enough payment in return.” The most powerful demon in the world just shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry. It’s a stupid rule and I’m always trying to bend it if I can, but I can’t outright break it.”

               Lacie looks back at the spellbook. She knows a thing or two about stupid rules she can’t break. She really can’t, apparently.

               Apparently, she’s going to be stuck with this thing for the rest of her life. Well. This… this sucks.

               What is she going to do now?

               “Um, listen,” Alcor clears his throat. “I can’t- uh, I may not be able to break the binding, but if there’s anything else I can do… well, you’ve got a lot of stuff you can sacrifice to me, I can probably do just about anything - anything that’s not soul-related, anyway.”

               Lacie blinks. Just about anything... she could still get out of this room before it starves her. Yes, if he was able to teleport both her and the book outside-

               But what would she do after that? The book’s tiny ; she’d need some way to lug it around, and she’d need to do that while finding food for herself, and oh stars all the guides on demon deals were screaming at her to be specific right now-

               “Do you need some time to decide?”

               She looks down at Alcor, and nods. He floats back towards the summoning circle.

               “Alright, well, call me up again when you’ve got a deal in mind...” Glancing around the circle, at the crispy candles and the shaky drawings of his symbols, he blinks, then he glances back at her. “Uh… how long did this take you to do?”

               A while, Lacie thinks, and snorts. He seems to get the message.

               “Right, well, I’ll leave my calling card with you, so you don’t have to do that all over again.” He fishes the card out of his pocket; somehow, it comes out almost as big as him. “When you’re ready to make a deal, just prick your fing… uh, just hold it, okay? I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

               She takes it, and nods. Tries for a smile, like the humans do to show gratitude.

               “What are you-? Ow.” He squints away from her stare. “Um, well, it was nice meeting you, Lacie! I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

               Alcor seems like he wants to say more, but after a moment of hesitation he gives a quick wave and disappears in a puff of smoke. The candles go out with him - remembering the sheer effort it took to light them in the first place, she cringes at that.

               Well, at least she doesn’t have to summon him again. She looks from the smoke wisping off the wicks, down to the business card in her grasp.

               It’s glossy and black; on one side, there’s a white circle around Alcor’s golden symbol; presumably that’s the place you’re supposed to prick your finger on. There’s a little note up top that says, ‘Need help? Summon Alcor the Dreambender today!’ and she snorts at that.

               What a strange little creature… strangely endearing. She can hear how crazy she sounds thinking about it, but that demon was actually kind of a decent guy? She isn’t about to go selling her soul to him any time soon, but it felt like he genuinely wanted to help and that’s… refreshing.

               It’s certainly a change of pace from the treasure hunters she usually encounters.

               With that in mind, Lacie grips the card. It feels sturdier than it looks, but she still takes care tucking it underneath her. Once she’s done that, she turns back to face the circle again.

               She sighs. Blinks, slowly. After something like that, all she wants to do is take a nice long nap, but...

               Well, she’d better get cracking with that deal.

________________________________________________________________

Showing comments for Chapter 7 of Wizard Animago’s Not-So-Secret Spellbook - His Shitty Death Spells and Why They’re Not to Die For, Seriously

EdgyTwedgy666: [fake lol]

               Sometimes, Lacie really doesn’t like humanity. She likes reading their writings, she likes looking at the photos they take of their world, she even likes the occasional specific human, but as a whole?

Rey_hunter: [can you tell me how to solve animagos riddle?? plz]

JarrSlayer8: [I dont get it. Author keeps calling himself a battlisk? Is this a joke account, because he needs to say its a joke so people don’t get confused.]

Foundit_56: [hehe nice try dude… im coming for that spellbook even if your to scared to…]

               If this is what humans are like, she can understand why Animago hated being one so much. I mean seriously, she’s telling people what’s in the spellbook so they’ll leave her alone, and these are the kind of comments she gets?

Pyrocandro: [ummm, you know planis fugere a mortalis huius doesn’t translate to fly away from this mortal plane right? It looks more like go away to me… jus sayin. Maybe you should take a latin class? ;)]

               Lacie narrows her eyes.

               Maybe the non-treasure hunting humans are nicer.

               Maybe up on the surface, humans are actually cool and not smugly correcting her Latin on every post.

               Maybe, but it’s a shame a human trapped her down here to guard his shitty book, so she might never find out.

               A sigh, long and tired. She’s been brainstorming deals ever since Alcor left, but with her still lugging around the spellbook they all seemed… unfeasible. The thing is falling apart already - how’s she supposed to keep it safe out there? Call it a lack of imagination, but she’s exhausted and the only thing she can think of is to keep holing up in her room, ask Alcor to boost the energy of Animago’s old sustaining spells so it can support her again.

               That would work. It would, but it feels…

               Lacie grimaces.

               It feels like there’s more than this. There’s a whole world out there beyond her room, beyond guarding some spellbook; she’s been looking at it ever since she took a laptop off a treasure hunter’s body. She’s been looking, she’s been reading, she’s been writing, and, just as she was about to make that deal with Alcor, she suddenly realised she’s been wanting .

               Wanting to go out there. Wanting to explore, wanting to leave this place. She’s outgrown it, in more ways than one, and now the thought of staying here, forever...

               It feels like she’ll regret not making a better deal when she had the chance.

               But what is a better deal? Maybe she’s just too tired to think, but her mind is blank and now she’s just scrolling through stupid human comments, thinking this is what I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life...

woodzarcor4lyfe: [how does a bastlisk type lol theyve got no arms]

               Oh, god. Oh, no.

SheldonHunts: [Actually, basilisks are classified as supernatural BEASTS instead of supernatural BEINGS. They’re non-sentient, so I’m preeetty sure you’re not a basilisk dude... cool post tho, was fun to read :)]

               Fucking. Humans. Why are they like this?

Epicbl00dhound: [looooool i bet there’s so many dumbasses in the comments fallin for this………. your not a bastlicks buddy i bet you made this up to feel special………  i bet your just some guy in your moms basement pretending…… dont pretend cuz humans are THE BEST we beat all other spacies (watch pronatpat he has the TRUTH) so get out of there….. be a human!]

               Ugggghhhhhhhh, why is this her life? Why can’t she-

               Wait.

               Lacie reads that last comment again. Through all the weird grammar and the pro-nat grossness and everything else she doesn’t even want to unpack… it’s giving her an idea.

               Be a human...

               A strange, strange idea - but it might just actually work.

[mst3kproject]

910: The Final Sacrifice

I grew up in Calgary, which means that the riff about Edmonton being kind of like hell but less so is at least six times funnier than it would be otherwise.  My sister did her IT degree at the same school (the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology) as the people in this movie were taking their film classes. I’ve probably been to places where they shot scenes and didn’t know it… all of which makes The Final Sacrifice particularly dear to my heart, even by MSTie standards.

Seven years ago, young Troy’s father was chased down and murdered by armed luchadors in the woods somewhere.  Now, grown into a man of at least twelve, Troy is determined to find the killers.  In an attic he discovers a mysterious map and a bunch of information about the ‘Ziox’, but before he can puzzle it out the luchadors attack! Troy escapes by climbing into a truck driven by Canada’s second-greatest hero (after Wolverine), the one, the only Zap Rowsdower.  Together, the two of them set out to conquer Zap Rowsdower’s car trouble and uncover the secret of the Ziox, a lost civilization that once ruled the land of Fish Creek Provincial Park!

First, some Canadiana.  The Lemon Mine is a legendary lost gold deposit supposedly found by prospector John Lemon. Also, Maple Syrup Rustling is a thing that goes on in Canada.  Over the winter of 2011-2012, nearly three thousand tonnes of it were stolen from the Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers, one barrel at a time.  Canadians regard this in the same way as other countries might think of big art or bank heists, with the perpetrators becoming folk-culture heroes.  Also also, Brain Guy was wrong.  The worst thing ever to come out of Canada is, hands down, our geese, which attack livestock, destroy aircraft, and don’t even taste good.  They are the worst of all birds and we apologize.

Second, some racism.  According to the movie, the Ziox were a lost civilization who lived in Southern Alberta eleventy thousand years ago, “way before the Indians” and built cities of gold in the middle of the prairie.  Since Sartoris and Zap Rowsdower, among others, are descendants of these people it appears they were supposed to be white.  Because there’s no way anybody who wasn’t white could have built huge cities full of golden pyramids, right? It’s not like there were entire cultures in the Americas who were known for exactly that!

Those peoples didn’t live in southern Alberta, though, for the excellent reason that there’s nothing here.  This area is miles upon miles of rolling grassland, from the foot of the mountains all the way to Manitoba, with not much in it but buffalo and buffalo by-products. There’s some sandstone you can build quaint town halls with, but not pyramids that will last thousands of years.  The wildlife aren’t suitable for domestication.  There’s no meaningful amount of gold.  There weren’t even very many trees until Europeans started planting them as windbreaks.  For as long as there’s an archaeological record, the indigenous peoples around here have been nomadic hunters.  Permanent settlements couldn’t get started until the railway arrived to bring in supplies.

On to the movie.  When you want to tell a big story but have only a little budget, one popular way to do it is by having most of your adventure happen in the middle of nowhere so you can save your money to make a big impression in only a few key scenes. Take, for example, The Princess Bride, which is mostly just a few people in the wilderness but put enough into the palace sequences to make us believe we were in a Renaissance-era world.  The Final Sacrifice is a stellar example of a film that’s too damn cheap to even get away with that.  They wanted demonic idols and spectacular caverns and an ancient city rising from the earth but all they got is a bunch of toothpick models and papier-mache, almost as pathetic as the dinosaur puppets in Future War.

The nail in the coffin is that The Final Sacrifice can’t even do wilderness very well.  The outdoor scenes are in very open scrub, which are rather desolate but don't give the impression of somewhere miles from civilization.  It looks, like I already observed, a lot like Fish Creek Park, which is about a twenty-minute walk from where I grew up and sees a steady stream of picnickers and brownie troops all summer.  Any given shot in The Final Sacrifice looks like if you moved the camera three inches to one side you’d see a bunch of little kids making s’mores.

I’m pretty sure the writers originally had something much grander in mind, and had to tone it down a lot to get it to the screen with the money they had – because when you think about it, it’s obvious that The Final Sacrifice is a story about the lost continent of Atlantis.  You’ve got an ancient advanced civilization that was punished for its hubris and blasphemy by sinking, and which promises untold power and wealth to whoever can find its remains.  That’s a tale that ought to span continents, with adventurous archaeologists and deserted isles and plane crashes and such things… but all anybody had was a small town and some back woods a few hours’ drive out of Calgary, so they had to make do. The result feels like a story trying to be bigger than it is, as if the events in the movie only think they ought to have world-shaking implications but actually don’t matter to anyone.

Adding to the impression that there’s something missing from this movie, the story depends an awful lot on some very odd coincidences.  I can buy that Troy lives only a couple hours’ drive from the site of the Ziox city – that’s where his father lived and worked, and since Troy’s aunt didn’t know about the cultists there was no reason for her to move.  But then the truck he climbs into just happens to belong to a former member of the cult?  Zap Rowsdower is supposed to be an alcoholic drifter who just wants to get away and forget, so why the heck is he still in the area?  Canada is big.  Go to Halifax.  Go to Resolute Bay.  Hell, leave the country.  Why stick around within a few miles of the evil cult that threw you out?

Then there’s Pipper.  He’s been hiding from the cult for years, he says, but he’s doing it in a cabin about ten meters (that's thirty-five feet for the Americans in the audience) from the site of the idol! That might make sense if he were guarding it, but he doesn’t know it’s nearby and professes to believe it’s just a legend.  So what is he doing there?  Movie audiences can handle magic and aliens and all kinds of other ridiculous things, but too many coincidences will kill suspension of disbelief in a way the overtly fantastical never can.

When you want to tell a big story in your movie, it’s also helpful if the audience knows what the characters want and what will happen if they fail.  On the first count, I guess The Final Sacrifice does okay.  We do know that Troy wants to find out why his father died and what’s up with all this stuff he left behind, and Zap Rowsdower just wants to get away from this distasteful part of his past but is sucked back into it by Troy whether he likes it or not.  On what will happen if they fail, however, the film is much less clear.  Sartoris talks about raising an army of invincible warriors and conquering the world, but it’s not clear how making a sacrifice to the idol in the woods will bring that about.  Does Sartoris believe the city will arise full of undead soldiers or something?  The only version of the associated legends we get comes from Pipper, who says nothing about any such thing.  We’re obviously meant to believe that at least some of the population escaped the sinking, since they had to go give rise to descendants like Zap Rowsdower and the luchadors.

The ending is clearly supposed to be ironic, as it is Sartoris’ death that satisfies the idol and raises the city from the ground.  This would have been more effective if Sartoris himself had lived long enough to appreciate the irony, but that much works well enough.  The rest of the events at the end of the film just leave way too many questions.  What happened to all the luchadors?   They pull off their masks and walk into the light and out of the movie.  Why did Zap Rowsdower’s tattoo disappear?  Does Sartoris actually have some kind of magical powers, since he seems able to telepathically contact Zap Roswdower in his sleep? Did the city actually blast off into space, possibly taking the luchadors with it?  Because there are definitely shots that make it look like that’s happening.  What’s going on there?

Honestly, that’s not a bad explanation.  Throwing some Erich Von Daniken, Pumaman or Hangar 18 bullshit into this would actually have made way more sense.  Wow, is that ever sad.

It’s easy to be really hard on The Final Sacrifice because it is so very cheap, but on the other hand it was literally made by first-year students at a polytechnic not known for producing filmmakers. When you think of it that way, it actually looks surprisingly like a real movie… but still not enough that it should ever have been released into the wild.  The fact that Tjardus Greidanus’ imagination was so much bigger than his budget makes it seem like he had some honest potential.  He’s still making both narrative and documentary films, and I’m kind of interested to see some of them.

[totaldramafan-lauri]

Here we are in the future and I’m fine (Steven Universe Future premiere thoughts)

Well, it came and went, and....yeah, I enjoyed it! I went in cautiously, not sure how well it would hold up compared to the high bar set by the movie, and while it didn’t reach those heights, it did impress me!

Here are my thoughts on every episode. Spoiler alert!

First off, turns out all that freaking out was for nothing....Spinel didn’t show up at ALL (she wasn’t even MENTIONED), and I still managed to enjoy myself despite that. I do miss her, yeah, but it felt like I was watching the same great show again. There was no fangirling from me, but I’m cool with that for now. I’d like to see her again at SOME point....even if she’s not gonna be the same as she was in the movie....but there’s gonna be a lot of time for that later.

(And all these episodes took place mostly on Earth, so it’s not like her absence was an anomaly or anything.)

Little Homeschool: Mostly exposition, nothing really special aside from the Steven vs. Jasper fight. I’m happy we got this much Jasper after so long without her, and I like how she’s portrayed here. She’s obviously not a villain anymore, but she’s still very much HER and very much not playing nice. I like how the episode doesn’t end with Steven befriending her, but instead paving the way for that to happen in the future. She’s just gotta cool down first. And then there’s violent Steven. Hoo BOY did he up his fighting skills!

Guidance: This episode was so flipping FUNNY! XD Steven actually making things worse is something we don’t get often, and if it leads to stuff like this, I welcome it! I can’t even recall everything I laughed at, but let’s count a few of them:

-That iceberg Gem and her obsession with human screams. O.o And how she finds out that she likes making people laugh because laughter sounds like screams. Um, Monsters Inc. flashbacks!

-That flipping fourth wall gag with Steven proclaiming the problem solved, the crossfade starting, and then it reversing when things start going bad right afterwards. XD I died

-Pretty much everything from Smoky. “You guys OK?” *guys in plane don’t respond, just look terrified* “....Good.”

-Smoky becoming like flipping Quicksilver and slowing time down

-They literally used the line “Gotta go faster”

-”Sometimes you save all the people but the rollercoaster still crashes into the ocean” as they look on dramatically

All in all a very entertaining episode! Also, can’t go wrong with a Nephrite cameo!

Rose Buds: WELL THIS WAS AWKWARD. That’s mostly how I felt throughout it. I’m happy we saw the Famethyst again. I’m happy we saw Holly Blue Agate again. But geez, this story just really makes you feel bad for everyone involved...Steven TRIES to be nice to the Roses but there’s one that literally looks JUST LIKE HIS MOM (except a bit darker) and UGH....and THEY’RE trying to be nice to HIM but they know how they were made....I’m happy they spilled out their feelings in the end though. And I like the Rose Quartz trio a lot. The really energetic one (I called her Genki Rose in Discord, but I’m not sure how many people know what “genki” means) is really cute, she’s my favorite. The calm, straight-haired one (who I called Zen Rose) is pretty cool too. And finally, Greg was funny.

Volleyball: I’m pretty sure this episode will be near unanimously declared the best of the four, and I agree. I’ve WANTED to like Pink Pearl (Volleyball) for a while, since she had a lot of potential, but I didn’t wanna get ahead of myself (also, well....as much as I hate to admit it, jealousy was at play too, due to how the fandom treated her) and HOO BOY did this episode deliver on that! As a foil for Pearl, she’s GREAT. They were with Rose/Pink at different stages of her life - Volleyball belonged to the bratty Pink who threw fits when she didn’t get her way, and that’s how she was broken. In that vain, you gotta wonder if White thought she was doing the right thing, kinda like punishing a child for breaking their toy, in her messed-up White way....*shiver* And Volleyball acts really defensive of the incident, like “It’s OK, she always did that!” And then OUR Pearl belonged to the Pink who matured and grew after becoming Rose, who kept secrets instead of throwing fits. So SHE doesn’t believe that she’d do something like that, because that wasn’t how SHE knew her. The episode resolves when both Pearls fuse and get the “full picture”, if you will. I LOVE their interactions SO much, to the point where I’m almost considering shipping them? If not that, then calling them sisters. Volleyball is still very much stuck in the past (you would be too after losing so many years of memory) so she’s got some things to work out. But Pearl can help her with that. On that note, their fusion is really pretty. I dunno what her name would be, since she’s a fusion of two of the same Gem, so would she still be Pearl? I dunno....I’ll think of something to call her. Point is, I love her design. She’s gorgeous.

Also, Steven’s breakdown in this episode was flipping heartbreaking. When he says that he doesn’t wanna hear about any more bad things his mom has done, ugh, you just wanna hug him....

One last note, and this is probably something that just bugs me and no one else: How did the Pearls get to Earth? Did the Diamonds just....disown them and drop them off to be independent? We saw Yellow Pearl and Blue Pearl in the movie, on Homeworld, and they were very clearly enjoying their jobs! So I didn’t think they’d WANT to leave! Plus, it’s not like every single Gem is moving to Earth, right? There’s gotta be a lot of them on Homeworld still....That means the Diamonds still have a kingdom to watch over, so their Pearls weren’t necessarily out of a job....whatever, I just wish we got more clarification on that. (Plus, I miiiiiight be a little salty at not giving Spinel ANYONE to interact with in the palace besides the Diamonds, and also I may or may not have been toying with the idea of villain Spinel with Yoopie and Bloopie as henchmen for one of my AUs and there won’t be any canon interactions to go off of for that now....*cough*)

So overall, I’m very much content with these episodes! The order I liked them goes:

1. Volleyball 2. Guidance 3. Rose Buds 4. Little Homeschool

I’m looking forward to future episodes! This is a very strong beginning of the end, and I hope the rest of the season doesn’t let me down! ^^

[lifeoftheparty74]

Suprise visit

A/N: So here it is! My first ever posted Shawn Mendes imagine. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing(s): ShawnxReader

Word count: 1403

Warnings: None

In our entire relationship, we spent more time apart than we did together.

We've been together for almost two years, and when one of you is a celebrity that has tours, interviews and award shows all over the world, you don't really see each other a lot.

We first met a couple of years ago, when he was on tour and performed in my city. I went to the meet&greet, and by some miracle I ran into him later that evening.

Literally.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and bumped into his chest and he spilled his Starbucks drink all over me.

We hung out the rest of the night.

As we parted ways a couple of hours later, he asked my number.

A month later, he asked me out.

We've been together for two years now, and though it's been great, I can't pretend it doesn't get incredibly hard.

When you're in a long-distance relationship, and one of you travels a lot, of course you're bound to miss some important days together.

While Shawn is traveling a lot, it's not like I am very busy. In fact, I have enough time to visit him wherever he is. The issue there, is that I'm afraid of flying.

Cars I am okay with, and boats and trains are no big deal. But planes are. Because when I was almost ten, my dad was in a plane that crashed. No survivors.

Since then, I've had something against airplanes.

I myself have never again been on one again, but Shawn obviously has. Whenever he has to fly somewhere, I get stressed and the days leading up to the flight usually consist of nightmares of losing him.

So far, I am just glad nothing happened yet. And I continue hoping nothing will ever happen to him.

Right now, it has been seven months since I hugged my boyfriend. Obviously we've FaceTimed, and we text everyday.

But tomorrow is our second anniversary, and we're about to spend it apart. Because I had to work until this morning, and it would take hours for me to drive there, there is no possible way of us seeing each other in real life today.

He has a show in Paris, the city of love. How iconic.

Over the past years with him traveling so much, my fear of planes has gotten worse and worse. Which is why you might find it a little odd that right now I'm standing at the airport, waiting for the plane to France to be called.

***

The plane ride was terrible.  I was on my own, no one I knew could go with me.

Getting on the plane wasn't a big deal. I focused on other things like the clothes I would wear later or how I would surprise him at his show.

While he was performing?

Or after he got off stage?

I'm not sure yet.

Anyways, I was fine, until the plane started taking off.  The speed it went with was terrifying and I had trouble breathing. Once the plane started going up however and we could see the buildings on the ground shrinking, was when I lost it.

I had been so lucky there was a psychiatrist on board that knew what to do and managed to calm me down. I was so happy when the plane finally landed and I could get off.

At the airport,  I was greeted by Andrew. He knew how afraid I was of planes, and knew that I'd be more comfortable driving with him than a chauffeur.

"Are you okay?" He asked as soon as he saw me, walking up to me and embracing me in a hug.

"Yeah, I am now. Thank you." I nod, as we walk to get my suitcase.

We arrived at Shawn's show an hour before he had to go up stage, so I hid in the tour bus. After a full hour of keeping myself entertained on my phone, Andrew finally came to get me, telling me it was safe to go backstage now.

As I stood there, I admired the man I was so lucky to call mine. I saw all the passion and work he threw into every performance.

He'd gone live on Instagram, positioning his phone backstage, so everyone could follow it. I had it opened too, but I was obviously more focused on the real thing right in front of me.

When Shawn had sung his last song for the night, There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back, he surprised both his fans and me when he stayed on stage and started a speech.

About me.

God, I love this man.

"Even though she can't be here tonight, I want to say this to her.

"Y/n, baby, I love you. I still remember that night a little over two years ago, when I first met you. My first thought when you walked into that meet and greet was how insanely adorable you were. You wore that light pink shirt you loved so much, and your hair was in a beautiful side braid. You smiled so wide.

"But the first thing I noticed about you, were your eyes. That beautiful deep shade I got lost in.

"To this day, I still love your eyes a lot.

"But the best thing about you must be your personality.

"Not only your happiness and sarcasm, but also how supportive you are. Without you, I would not be standing here today.

"I also love how clingy you can sometimes be.

"How you hold on to me for hours and won't let go, how you steal all my hoodies and sweatpants, and can cuddle with me for hours.

"I love you, baby. Happy anniversary."

By the end of his speech, I was swooning. Most girls in the audience were too.

Suddenly I get an idea, and before Shawn leaves the stage, I call his phone from mine. Andrew sees what I'm doing, and runs up the stage, phone in hand.

"Shawn, it's Y/n."

He immediately answers, mouth still close to the mic.

"Hi sweetie."

"Hey" I giggle back softly, covering the underside of my phone, hoping he can't hear the screaming fans through it.

"Are you watching right now?"

"No, I'm not." I know he knows I'm rolling my eyes. "Of course I am, you dweeb. I love you."

"I love you too, babe. And I miss you. So much."

"I missed you too." I respond, grinning as I hang up the phone.

"MissED? What do you mean? Y/n -" He gets shut up by the screaming fans as I walk on stage.

He looks around him confused, and as he finally spots me, I see that smile.

That smile he only gives me.

As I am finally in his arms again and can breathe in his scent, I'm not finally with my boyfriend again.

I'm finally home again.

***

"How did you even get here? You had work yesterday and it takes hours to drive here."

I blush confidently. "I flew."

He spins around, dropping his phone to the floor. "You what?"

"I flew."

His mouth gaped open, wide eyes staring at me.

"But babe, you're-"

"Afraid of planes. Yeah."

He turned around more, laying one hand on my right shoulder and the other tilting up my chin, staring into my eyes.

"You got on a plane. For me."

I smiled at him. "No, I came here so I can finally fuck Connor again."

He groaned, already done with my sarcasm after fifteen minutes of being reunited.

He leaned his head on my shoulder, hands around my waist as he pulled me backwards on the bed.

"I missed you."

"So much." I replied, cuddling further into his side.

"I can't believe you actually got on a plane and I wasn't there."

"I was fine. It was scary at first, but I became kind of used to it and Andrew came to pick me up. I think I'll visit you more often while you're touring from now on."

"Really?" He asked, perking up a little.

"Really." I smiled.

"I love you." He mumbled against the skin of my neck, his lips kissing me every few seconds.

"So much." I replied, running my hand through his curls, massaging his scalp.

After two minutes, I called his name. "Shawn?"

When he didn't reply, I realized he'd fallen asleep, and with that, I closed my eyes too.

[dabble-writes]

The Magician and I- (2)

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |

Pairing:

Yoongi/Reader

Summary:

Suga is a wish-granting magician. He grants wishes—for the price of your most prized possession.

Your parents and brother died tragically in a plane crash and you visit Suga to grant your wish to bring them back to life...but instead you become his assistant.

Now you’re thrust into a world of magic and the mysterious being known as Suga.

Tags:

Fantasy, romance, comedy, a bit of a slow burn, angst

Warnings:

Mentions of death and war

CHAPTER 2: DEADLY MEMORIES

On your way to your apartment, you received a text from Hyelin.

-Hey girl! How did things with Suga go?

You forgot about Hyelin. You wondered if you should tell her.

Probably not, I hardly believe it and I saw it with my own eyes, you thought. But I don’t want to lie to her, especially if I’m going to spend a lot of time there now.

~Funny, I ended up getting a job there….

-OMG, what????

~Yeah, they were hiring and I thought why not and got the job…

-Wow that’s crazy. Maybe u were sent there because u were going to get that job

~That’s probably the reason

-And Suga?

~What about him?

-Is he a magician? Or a total scammer?

You didn’t know how to respond. You entered your apartment and threw yourself into your bed. You stared at the message again and sighed.

~I can tell u, but then I’ll have to kill u lol :P

-I see, u can’t give away business secrets. So what r u doing for him?

You breathed out a sigh in relief, I’m glad that worked.

~I’m like his assistant, his last assistant got pregnant

-Is he cute?

~What does that have to do with anything????

-Everything! Come on, give me something to work with here

~Ok, fine, he’s really hot. Happy?

-Omg!!! I’m so jelly!!!!

You huffed, if she met Suga she will have nothing to be jealous about.

~He’s a jerk tho. Like major asshole

-Oh damn :/ is he giving u a hard time?

~Sort of? He’s just super expressionless and rude

-So like a tsundere?

~No! Just a jerk

-Oh man, and here I was thinking ur finally going to get laid...

~Hyelin!!!!!!!

-Lol kidding <3 u know I love u

~You’re lucky you’re cute

-✿◕ ‿ ◕✿

~So how was your dad?

-He’s doing good! It was awesome seeing him again. He’s going to go away next week tho :’(

~Oh damn for how long this time?

-A month D:

~ D: well know that we can hang out whenever u want

-No we can’t, u have a job remember?

~Oh right….damn. still, u know I’ll make time for u

-I know, that’s why I love u <3

~I love u <3

-Love u more <3

 A week passed by and nothing much went on in your “job”, just an occasional wisher wishing for the usual stuff. No exciting drama or anything.

You thought working for a magician would be exciting, but so far you’ve been cleaning and acting as his receptionist. You thought Suga would be more interesting, but he has been evading all your questions. So far the only thing you learned from him is that he really loved his naps.

You realized quickly that he’s much grumpier when he doesn’t have these naps. He’s already grumpy enough, so if he’s one of those moods he becomes unbearable.

Today, it seemed like he woke up in the wrong side of the bed because he was in one of those moods again.

You said your customary greeting to him, giving him a smile, and he just gave you an unimpressed look.

“You can just go to the front desk now, I don’t feel like dealing with you today.”

You frowned, “You talk as if I’m high maintenance—I do everything you tell me to do.”

“Your presence is annoying.” He simply answered back “plus you talk too much.”

You grit your teeth and made your way out the door, “And you’re such a pocketful of sunshine.”

“Don’t interrupt me unless there’s a customer.” Suga said and without looking back you flipped him off.

Jerk.

Still, that was the dynamic between you two. You thought he will let up a little once you started working for him, but he’s still rude and cold. You sat down at your usual chair and took out your laptop from your book bag. You decided to bring your laptop with you because not only is it more organized, it kept you from being bored while waiting for a customer or Suga to think of something for you to do.

You were in the middle of some random Buzzfeed quiz when you heard the door open. You looked up to see a girl around your age wearing sunglasses. You wondered what was up with that, but just gave her a smile. Maybe she was blind. She does seem to be fumbling around a bit.

“Hi, how may I help you?”

She walked up to your window.

“I’m here to see Suga…? I spoke to you yesterday on the phone and you said it was fine to come at this time.”

“Yes…Jisoo, right?” You said, consulting to the post-it that your stuck next to phone yesterday.

“Yeah, that’s my name.”

“I’ll just lead you to Suga then.”

You got up and opened the door for Jisoo.

“Do you need help?” You ask politely, offering your arm. You then felt stupid, if she was blind she can’t see that. You lightly touched her arm.

“Yes please.” She answered and grabbed your arm.

Maybe she’s here to wish for her sight, you thought.

“So what brings you here?”

“It’s my boyfriend, I’m worried about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s sick and doesn’t want to go see a doctor.”

“Oh.”

This seemed like a typical wish then, you were a little disappointed.

You knocked on the office door, even though you know Suga knew that you guys were here.

“Come in.” You heard his grumble and you opened and door and ushered her in.

“Do you want tea or something?” You asked her politely, but she shook her head.

Suga didn’t bat at eye at Jisoo’s strange appearance and you wondered if anything ever fazed that man.

“So what brings you to me today?”

You led her to the seat across from Suga and she sat down.

“It’s my boyfriend.” Jisoo said, “there’s something wrong with him. I don’t know what.”

“I knew you’d be passing by sooner or later.” Suga said casually and she looked at him in shock.

“What do you mean? How do you know me?”

“I actually know your boyfriend,” Suga said, “Jinyoung, right?”

“Are you a stalker? What the heck!”, She jumped up.

“I’m nothing of the kind. I’m a magician, so I know these things.”

Jisoo slowly sit back down, “So do you know what’s wrong with Jinyoung?”

“Are his dreams tormenting him? Does he keep going into trances and talking to people that aren’t there? Is he in a constant state of panic and paranoia?”

“Yes, all of those! I keep telling him he needs to get some help, go to someone, but he insists that they cannot help, and it will be useless.”

“He’s not wrong—no one on this earth can help him. Except maybe me, of course.”

“What do you mean that ‘no one on this earth can help him’? What exactly is wrong with him?”

“You first have to understand is that he’s not part of this world.”

“What? Is he like an alien or something?”

“More like from a different dimension.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Exactly what I said: he’s from a different universe than this one. The memories of his bloody past are literally haunting him.”

“B-bloody past?”

“Yes, the ghosts of the souls he has killed are literally haunting him because he is remembering them.”

She looked a bit skeptical, “So can you help him?”

“Yes, but the price is your prizes possession.”

This caused Jisoo to hesitate, “…I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You have to make a wish once you see me.”

She smirked and took off her sunglasses—her eyes were taped shut, “Technically I didn’t see your face so actually I don’t have to make the wish. My friend, who told me about you, told me about that stupid rule of yours and I decided to come prepared.”

You were so impressed by her ingenious that you laugh, I should have done that, damn, then I wouldn’t be here.

“Wow, that’s so smart.” You said and gave her a high five.

Suga was less impressed, “Fine, you don’t have to make a wish. But here’s a warning: this is only the start. Jinyoung will get only worst as he remembers more of his past. Soon, he will be showing physical wounds and could actually die if he keeps remembering.”

Jisoo bit her lip, very troubled, but said, “I don’t believe you, this is just a scam.”

He didn’t even bat an eye, “It’s true, he will die if he doesn’t forget those memories.”

“I still don’t believe you.” She said stubbornly.

Suga nodded, “I understand. You know where to find me if you change her mind.”

You led Jisoo out the room. Once she was out of his office, she took the tape from her eyes.

“You really won’t change your mind?” You ask, and she shook her head.

“I don’t believe him. This whole ‘other dimension’ thing is just too fishy. Plus, you can’t die of tortured memories.”

You saw her leave and went back to Suga’s office.

“That was wild.”

Honestly, you were a little glad there was excitement again, but it ended too quickly.

“What’s going to happen now?”

“How would I know?” Suga said, “I can’t predict the future.”

You snort, “You certainly act like it though.”

Suga just gave you an unimpressed face.

“But what would happen to Jinyoung if Jisoo doesn’t do anything?”

“He’ll probably continue to be haunted by the ghosts of his past, like what I said. His physical wounds would get worst and he’ll probably die a painful death.”

You winced, that didn’t sound good at all.

“What if Jinyoung made the wish instead? Surely he would want to save his own life?”

“That won’t work because Jinyoung already came to me and asked for his wish.”

“You can’t grant more than one wish?”

“No.”

“Wow you’re selfish, aren’t you supposed to grant like three wishes?”

“Those are genies, and that’s fiction.” Suga answered.

“But that sucks, that Jinyoung already asked for a wish. What was his wish?”

“Why must you insist on asking questions?” Suga groaned.

“Come on, tell me what’s Jinyoung’s deal. Why is his past tormenting him so much? Was he that much of a bad person? Did he really kill that many people? What was he, an assassin or something?”

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone and let me sleep?” Suga snapped and you beam.

“Yes! Tell me!” You sat across from him and he groaned.

“Alright but know that this is not your problem—don’t get involved in this.”

“You know I can’t guarantee that.”

“You really do like to stick your nose in other people’s business—that is such a human trait.”

“Of course, I am human. Just tell me the story, Suga!” You said, impatient.

He sighed again and said, “Alright. Like I said, Jinyoung came from a different universe. That universe is very different than this one. It is a complete war zone. Every inch of that universe is a battlefield and everyone is involved in the war—there are no exceptions. It is a very devastating place, you constantly do unthinkable stuff every day. The only way the beings there could function is to forget what they have done. Through evolution, this particular species only remembers that day and by the end of the day their memory is wiped out.”

“Oh, like 50 First Dates?”

Suga looked confused, but also quite annoyed that you interrupted him, “Sorry, continue.”

“That’s the only way that the ghosts of their pasts don’t haunt them, you see. Jinyoung was a soldier and was at the thick of the war. One day he got injured and was sent to recover in one of their healing facilities. He met a nurse there and fell in love at first sight. She tended to his wounds and was so loving and gentle with him. He knew that such a pure soul wouldn’t survive in this universe, so he came to me and wanted to make a wish. I told him it was dumb to waste his wish on someone he just met, that didn’t even love him back.  He argued that he loves her for that day and reminded me that he would forget her the next day so he doesn’t have time to waste. So I grant him his wish.”

“What did he wish?”

“That she was a different being living in a universe that is safe for her.”

You paused, connecting the dots together, “Wait…is Jisoo…?”

“Yes, she was the nurse. It’s strange how fate works, huh. It sometimes makes me question if love is real after all.”

You gave him a look, “Of course love exists.”

He shrugged, “Love is a human trait.”

“You mean that your kind don’t love?”

“Love is dangerous for us.” He simply said and you waited for an explanation but he didn’t give any.

“Alright then…so Jisoo is the one that has to make the wish.”

“You can’t make someone wish for something if they don’t want to.”

“But he’ll die if he keeps remembering his past, right?”

“Correct.”

“We have to do something!”

“We is a lot of people.”

“Ok, I have to do something!”

“What did I say about not getting involved?”

 “I said I made no guarantees.”

He sighed, “She’ll come around eventually.”

“You don’t know that! You just said that you can’t predict the future.”

“Alright, here’s her address.” He wrote something down on a paper and handed it to you, “But that’s all I’m going to be doing.”

“Fair enough.” You said, and took it. You were about to walk out the door when he spoke again. 

“What about if I erase your memories of them?”

“What?”

“For your wish. I can’t bring your family back, but I can take your memories away, so it doesn’t hurt.”

You paused, considering it. It would be easier.

“I’ll think about it. First I need to go talk to her, then I’ll talk to you later.” You told him, and you left.

Suga was about to go take a nap when he heard a voice.

“Look, Suga, I told you before. It’s ok that you’re mad at me but, don’t hate my sister.”

Suga turned and saw the figure of his teacher sitting casually on the couch and just stared at him.

“Hey, don’t act like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s been a while since I’ve shown myself. Won’t you pretend to be happy?”

Suga frowned and turned away, “You’re a ghost. I’m not happy. Try saving your energy and stay in a more ghostly form.”

Jin got up from the couch and made his way to Suga, “Wow, even after thousands of years you still hate me. But still, you shouldn’t hate on my innocent sister. Right? My cute disciple.”

He pinched Suga’s cheek as he said the last sentence and Suga swat his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you know how awful a ghost feels?”

Jin smirked, “Really?” He started to poke Suga all over, annoying Suga.

“Stop it!” He pushed Jin away, who just laughed, “Anyway, I don’t hate her. I just want to be free of this agreement. You asked me to look after her, but I’ve never taken care of anyone before.”

Suga turned to see that Jin was studying one of his framed paintings.

“What strange taste... even this frame is weird. Hey, whatever happened to the IU poster I gave you?”

“Stop changing the subject!” Suga snapped, annoyed at his teacher’s antics.

He hasn’t changed a bit.

“Ok, I don’t have much energy left anyway. What? You want to get rid of my sister’s memories? And you then get rid of her after that? You can’t, it’s a cowardly method. Plus,” He stroke a dramatic pose, “It’ll be such a shame to forget such a beautiful and incredible brother.”

Suga crossed his arms, “Why don’t you just admit it, even after death you’re still full of yourself. Also, there’s nothing that was worse or more cowardly than your wish.”

There was a pause, then Jin said, “Oh no! I’m losing energy, guess I gotta go.”

“Stop trying to run!” Suga snapped as Jin disappeared.

Jin’s presence was still in the room and Suga heard his voice, “You’re right, I’m a horrible coward. But Suga, you still haven’t learned a few things. Until I teach you, I can’t contentedly play with the girls of the afterworld. As you look after my sis, you’ll learn a lot. So, you can’t get rid of her memories.”

“Fine.” Suga ground out.

“And another thing,” Jin’s voice continued, “the one being burdened by memories and wanted to erase them all is you, Suga.”

With that, Suga felt Jin’s presence leave the room.

When you reached Jisoo’s apartment, she opened the door and was surprised to find you there.

“Why are you here…uh….?”

“Y/N.” You offered.

“Y/N, I don’t want to make that wish.”

“Let me in, let’s talk about it.”

She reluctantly let me inside her apartment, which was nice. You heard voices and look at her in alarm, “Is someone here?”

Jisoo sighed, “Only Jinyoung.”

‘He’s here? How’s he doing?”

She frowned, “He’s getting worst. He’s not coming out of his trances no matter how much I try.”

“And you don’t want to make the wish?”

You couldn’t believe her. Did she even love him? He made the sacrifice, why couldn’t she?

“What could possibly be worth his life, Jisoo?” You asked her and she bit her lip.

“I don’t want him to forget me.” She said softly and you pause.

“What? T-that’s what’s most important…”

“Yeah, his memory.”

“Only..”

“Only? Do you know how long it took me to get him to remember my name? A year! A whole year. And that was just my name. I was so happy the first time he said my name…There’s so many precious memories while we dated. If all that goes, if he can’t remember he loves me, and he no longer loves me…what the use of me living? I don’t know what I would do if I have to start over again. Also, if he did commit those crimes, he should pay, even in that way.”

You stared at her in disbelief, “What the hell! Pay? He didn’t create the war, he didn’t have a choice! He’s in so much pain because he still feels the grief from it. Most people don’ feel a sense of guilt or regret. The reason he’s in so much pain is because he’s got a good heart. Leave him to pay for his sins? Then how are you gonna pay for the sin of letting such a good person die?”

“I—”

“Fine, if you won’t wish, I’ll do it. It’s to make him forget, so anyone can wish it. So I---”

“No, enough.” Said a voice at the door and we both turned.

There stood Jinyoung. He looked weak, but he had a determined look.

“I also don’t want my memory erased.” He turned to Jisoo, “Don’t worry, Jisoo, no matter what, I’m not going to forget you. Don’t you know that you are my life? You are all the memories I have. So if all that went away, who would I be? It’s better this way.”

Jinyoung went up to Jisoo and grabbed her hands, “Like you said, I must pay. Even if I died now, I feel you won’t be too sad, so I can die happily.”

Jisoo looked at Jinyoung in horror and he collapsed in her arms.

“Hey, wake up! Don’t die!”

She started to cry, “Jinyoung, you’re wrong. If you die now, I’ll hurt forever.”

You rush to them and see him thrashing around, “He’s getting worst. It’s now or never: is his memory of you worth more than him living?”

She bit her lip and stared at his shaking body, full of injuries, and shook her head, “No it’s not.”

 “If you watch TV dramas or movies, memories come back after receiving a shock.” You said to  Jisoo as you guys were walking in a nearby park. It has been a few days since she made her wish.

“Yeah,” you continued, “in some drama I saw the other day, a girl almost got hit by a car and her lover’s memories came back to him. You can maybe try that!”

Jisoo didn’t look amused, “And if I get hit by a car and die?”

You picked up a rock, “How about I hit him on the head with a rock? He’ll remember—”

“And if Jinyoung dies?”

You were starting to run out of ideas, “Uh…then kidnapping and throwing him in water---"

“Y/N, stop,” Jisoo cut you off, laughing, “this is real life, not some drama.”

“True.” You frowned, “Sorry, I just want to help.”

She smiled, “I know, thanks for your help.”

A frisbee flew past you and landed in front of Jisoo.

“Hey!” We looked up and, to our surprise, Jinyoung was waving at us, “Hey kid, can you throw the frisbee!”

“Now’s your chance!” You nudged at her as she picked up the frisbee. She regarded it, then Jinyoung, then threw it.

He caught it and smiled, “Thanks, kid!”

Jinyoung started to walk away and you turned to her, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

She smiled and then cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify it, “Hey!” He turned to her yell, “My name is Kim Jisoo! My height is 162, weight 45 kg! My favorite color is purple, and I really like rice! Remember it! Next time I see you, if you’ve forgotten, I’ll get mad!”

Before he can respond, she grabbed your hand and ran away.

You smiled, you had a feeling this was going to be a start of a new relationship.

Suga pet your head like a dog and you swat his hand away, “Stop that, I’m not a pet!”

He shrugged, “You had such a content expression.”

“Well of course! I helped a lot this time. I was the one that got her to make her wish.”

“She would’ve done the same on her own.”

“No! 70% was thanks to me.”

He snorted.

“Okay then, 50%....30%....10%....2%”

“Fine, 2%”

You clapped excitedly, “Alright!”

“Why are are you so happy? It’s only 2%.”

“Even 2% is a lot.” You answered with a smile, “More than cleaning and arguing with you. The fact that I can contribute is important. Also, I’ve been thinking about your offer, about the wish in forgetting the memories of my family.”

“Oh? Your conclusion?”

“I’ll have to say no. Although it might seem like a good thing now because I’m hurting, in the end I still love my family. I want to remember them, all the good memories we had together. I can’t just forget them because of my selfish desires—who would keep their memory alive if not me?”

Suga nodded, “That wasn’t well thought out on my part.” He then took out a book and gave it to you.

You look at the cover and raised your eyebrows as you read the title, “ ‘How to find love: A Dating Manual’. Suga, I didn’t think you the type to have this kind of book.”

He coughed, “This is all the loving memories I received as prized possessions. They ended up becoming some sort of dating manual. I have no need for it, but figured you might want to have a look at it”

You were a little touched by the gesture, he never gave you anything before, “Aw, thanks. But why do you think I need a dating manual?”

“With a face like that, I figured you need all the help you can get.”

You stared at him, not believing he just called you ugly, “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I don’t need a dating manual. I can date anyone I want, thank you very much.”

You pushed the book back in his arms and caught him smiling which made you pause. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. He has a very nice smile. It was gone before you knew it, replaced by that expressionless face he always wears.

“Whatever, just say you don’t want the book, I was just going to chuck it in a corner—”

“Fine, give it to me.” You snapped and took the book back. You saw him give you an amused look and you huffed, “It’s only because I’m curious on what it will say.”

“Sure.”

“Well I’ll be going then.” You said, a bit embarrassed.

“Let me walk you home.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, “Why would you do that?”

He never walks me home. Never.

Suga shrugged, “Isn’t it dangerous for someone like you go around in the night?”

“ ’Someone like me’?” You asked, wondering if he’s going to acknowledge that you’re a girl.

“Someone small and frail like you. Also troublesome. You always attract trouble for some reason.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Small? Frail? Troublesome? What the heck?”

“Am I wrong?”

“I know karate.” You say in protest and he shrugged.

“Okay, if you don’t want me to go with you, I won’t go.”

“No, no it’s fine. Let’s go.”

You wonder what brought this sudden change since he never cared for your safety before.

Maybe he finally considers us friends?

But you spoke too soon. Of course things wouldn’t be so simple with someone like Suga.

He isn’t so tall, so how can he walk so fast?  

 Without any consideration to you, he just started to walk and didn’t stop. You almost had to run to even keep up with him and you ended up just trailing him. He would occasionally look back, but he will continue walking.

This frustrated you to no end.

“Are you kidding me?” You grumbled as you got caught in a red light but he was able to cross the street. He didn’t even look back, “How is this walking me home?”

When the light turned, you hurriedly ran to catch up with him.

This started to attract some stares and some sympathetic stares to you.

“That’s kind of pathetic, does she have no pride?” You even heard one passerby say and you fume.           

Damn Suga. This is definitely worst than going home by myself.

[forever-rogue]

Home

Request: Idk if you’re still doing request but if so could you maybe a do a imagine about Sebastian Stan based on the song home by mgk?             

A/N: I’m a lowkey MGK fan, but I really like this song, and the movie it’s from, Bright, which I totally recommend if y’all have Netflix! I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know if you’d like to be added to my Taglist! Requests are open! xx

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warning: None

MASTERLIST

HOME - SONG

What is home? Often it’s a place; one where a person can go at the end of a long day and relax. A place where you can be your true self. Other times, it’s a person - someone who makes all your struggles and hardships go away. Someone who makes you feel impervious and loved.

Sebastian sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He had been working nonstop the last week months; everyone wanted a piece of him. Even though he was constantly surrounded by people he had never left more lonely - crowded streets, but he was all alone.

He glanced out of the plane’s windows at the inky blue sky littered with glittering stars. Soon he would be home back in New York, able to finally regroup and gain back a sense of normality. Most importantly, he was excited to Y./N, the literal girl next door, and his absolute best friend. She was home to him -  the one who allowed him to take the world off of his shoulders.

He had never told her he loved her, every time he had gotten the nerve he’d look into her twinkling eyes and change his mind. What if she didn’t feel the same way and he just ended up looking like a fool? He didn’t know if his heart could take that. But, and he did believe he was reading the signs correctly, he was almost positive she felt the same way. Y/N, like him, had a shy streak as well and probably tried to guard her feelings.

He dropped his bags outside of his apartment door, exhausted from the travel and the whirlwind of the last few months. He stuck his key in the lock and eagerly twisted, excited to plop into his own bed for the first time in months. He was a little surprised when he saw his lights on - the apartment was bright and contained the delicious smell of home cooked food. 

All Sebastian saw a blur of color out of the corner and as he was almost knocked down by Y/N jumping into his arms and enveloping him in a warm, tight embrace. Her scent surrounded him and give him a sense of comfort.

“Seb! I’m missed you so, so, so much,” she beamed at him, a big smile plastered across her face. His heart instantly melted - this was home. All his dreams that had turned into nightmares of her suddenly rejecting him vanished. She kissed his stubble covered cheek and pulled him inside, followed by his bags.

“I’ve missed you too. I swear you’re the only one that’s kept me sane,” he smiled at her and took a seat at the kitchen island, “what’s all this then? Did you cook dinner?”

“I figured it’s been a while since you’ve had a home cooked meal and didn’t want you to come home to an empty, dark apartment,” she shrugged her shoulders and pulled out the roast she had made from the oven to show him. He was impressed, most people would not do that for someone.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” he watched her start getting two plates ready, making sure everything was perfect.

“I think one other time about 6 years ago?” she stuck her tongue out at him as she set a plate down in front of him before grabbing utensils and taking a seat next to him, “I’m glad you’re home, Seb. Things are never the same without you here. I didn’t have anyone to shield from that weird guy from upstairs! I actually had to talk to him since I wasn’t able to hide behind you.”

“Oh no! I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to rescue you,” he threw his hands up in the air dramatically only to receive a soft punch from her.

“Shut up and eat,” she laughed lightly. They ate in relative silence, both of them enjoying being back in each other’s company. She was his cure for the loneliness he had been experiencing. Her mere presence made him feel more alive than he had in months.

Y/N started cleaning up and putting away the dishes when Sebastian leaned against the counter and started helping her.

“Hey, I’ve got this,” she smiled but he insisted and kept on helping, “any big plans now that you’re home? Are you gonna stay for a while?”

“I am. I’m planning on taking a few months off. The last few have been too much for me. Being home is all I want right now,” he watched her intently and noticed she perked up when he confirmed he would be staying.

“I’m so glad to hear that. Now we can finally hang out again. Nothing’s the same without you,” she looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. His heart skipped a beat under her unwavering gaze. Even though they had known each other for so many years, she still gave him a case of nervous butterflies.

“Y/N, I’ve….” he couldn’t get the rest of the words out as she reached up and stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into her soft touch, “please stay?”

“Tonight?” her voice was small and soft, but held a hopeful tone. When he finally opened his eyes, hers were focused on his, bright with anticipation.

“Forever,” he wasn’t sure why, but this felt like the time to tell her how she felt. She was the one he had dreamed off while he was gone.

“Forever,” she agreed. His heart swelled as he realized that she did feel the same way as he did. Sebastian was glad he had finally gotten up the courage to muster up his feelings “you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

“How long?” he whispered as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Eight years,” she chuckled softly, “since the day we met.”

“I feel like such a fool,” the day they met was still vividly ingrained in his mind, “I wish I had manned up and told you how I really felt all those years ago.”

It had been a pretty typical day - a late afternoon run to the coffee shop for Y/N, who needed a boost to get through the rest of the day at the architecture firm she worked at. That’s where she had run into Sebastian, who was waiting for his coffee at the same time as her and had inadvertently grabbed hers by mistake. She flagged him down and asked for it back as it was a special order and she didn’t have time to wait around for another to be made. The rest was history - they had exchanged numbers and become fast friends.

“It’s okay Seb,” she insisted, “besides, I wouldn’t have traded a minute with you anyways. I think it was good we were friends first.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I think it’s only made our relationship stronger,” she looked into his bright cerulean eyes, and could see that his pupils were more dilated than normal. She leaned in closer to him so their breath was intermingling, as he licked his lips subconsciously. She took a chance and crashed her lips onto his. He was taken aback for the briefest moment before responding eagerly and grabbing onto her waist and pulling her into his body.

They pulled apart after what felt like an eternity, both of them flushed with shy smiles plastered on their faces. Sebastian tucked a strand of hair behind her hair, “that was a long time coming, but worth the wait. But I’m hoping we can do that more often.”

“Maybe,” she winked at him before stepping away from him. She headed for the door, alarming Sebastian, “I’ll be back, don’t look so worried. I just want to go and grab something real quick.”

“Okay good,” he went over and opened the door for her, “I’m going to go and shower and change. Come back soon?”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she agreed. She turned to head out, but stopped herself, turned back and give him a quick peck before blushing and quickly padding down the hall to her own apartment. He watched her go with a big grin on his face, finally feeling like all the pieces were slowly coming together.

It was almost blissful for Sebastian to finally shower in his own home again. He turned it up almost as hot as it could go and scrubbed himself thoroughly - as if to get rid of the last several months. He changed into his most comfortable joggers and a sweater and plopped onto the couch. There wasn’t a speck of dust on anything, he noted. For having been gone for several months, it should have been much grimier; it slowly dawned on him that Y/N had been coming in and keeping things clean for him.

There was a soft knock on the door and he padded over to answer it. He pulled it open and saw Y/N standing there, dressed in pajamas, holding an envelope in her hands.

“You didn’t have to knock,” he shook his head lightly in amusement at her, “you have a key, Y/N.”

“I know, I just didn’t…I don’t what I’m doing,” a deep crimson of embarrassment creeped up into her cheeks, “why am I so awkward all of a sudden? It’s like being a teenager again!”

He burst out laughing as he ushered her inside, “you’ve always been awkward, Y/N. Nothing new.”

“Sebastian!” her mouth hung open as she hit his arm, an amused expression on her face, “that is so rude. That is no way to talk to a lady.”

“Oh my dear Y/N, I jest,” he stopped her assaults by wrapped his strong arms around her and holding her hands behind her back, “forgive me?”

“You’re an idiot as always, Seb,” she snorted, “but you’re my favorite idiot.”

“Thanks, doll,” he let go of her and stifled a yawn, “did you clean my apartment while I was gone?”

“Well yeah,” she shrugged as though it should have been obvious as to why, “I didn’t want you to come back to a sad and dirty apartment.”

“Coming home has been the best thing,” he gave her a sleepy smile as he felt his eyelids slowly start to get heavier and heavier, “sorry - I’m really tired.”

“Can’t imagine why,”she wrapped her arm his waist, “let’s get you to bed, mister. I think you need a good long sleep.” He nodded in response and led them down the hall and into his bedroom where, he noted, the blankets had been washed and turned down for him.

He flopped his body in the big bed and wasted no time in pulling the covers over his body, much to Y/N’s amusement. She sat at the edge and watched him get comfortable, as she stood to go to the bathroom, he stirred, “will you stay here with me? I won’t try anything funny.”

“Of course. I’ll be back in a minute,” she promised as she walked into the adjoining bathroom. She tried to finish her normal nighttime routine as quickly as possible so she could get back to him, but it was pointless - he was fast asleep by the time she was done. She smiled at his sleeping form and shimmied her way under the covers. Even in his sleep, he pulled her close and snaked an arm around her waist, “good night, my love.”

It was extremely early in the morning when Sebastian woke up, his body still confused and jet lagged. He felt the warmth of Y/N’s body next to his - she was still passed out and snoring ever so lightly. Everything felt so right, like this was what he had waited for, for so long.

He remembered the envelope she had brought back with her, and that his name had been intricately scrawled on the front. He got out of the bed as quietly as he could, and went to retrieve it. He found it sitting on the coffee table and gingerly grabbed it. He opened it gently and saw that it appeared to have been written some time ago.

He pulled out the letter and looked at the top - it was dated a week after they met. She hadn’t been kidding when she said it had taken almost no time for her to fall for him.

Sebastian -

Although we haven’t known each other long - about a week to be exact - I already know it’s you. I think it’s always been meant to be you, and maybe we finally got really lucky and met. I’m so glad you grabbed my coffee and I actually had the nerve to stop you and ask for it back. I used to think the whole love at the first sight / soul mate thing was a bunch of crap, but that changed last week. I don’t know if I’ll ever give this to you or if you’ll ever read this, but I sure hope you do. I hope one day I get to call you mine and kiss you and be the one you want to come home to. If you do ever end up reading this just know that I love you and you are my everything - my home.

Yours Always, Y/N

Sebastian’s eyes prickled with tears. How did he get so lucky to have found her? He carefully refolded the letter before slipping it back into the envelope. He walked back into his bedroom where Y/N was sound asleep and slipped under the blankets. He wrapped his arms around and gently kissed the crown of her head.

“Seb?”

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispered softly.

“I love you too, Seb. Now shush and go back to sleep,” she gave him a sleepy smile before snuggling into his chest. He watched her for a few minutes before falling into a deep slumber, dreaming of her.

He was finally home.

Permanent Taglist: @ruinerofcheese @supernatural508 @nerissa98 @santa-crew @courtneychicken @ssweet-empowerment @mannatgalhotra @wearegoldeninthenight @prxttybirdz @buckybarnesappreciationsociety

[wellpersonsblog]

I Tried to Ride a 100 Mile Bike Race and Almost Died (Here’s What I Learned)

Note from the author: This Thanksgiving, we’re all living through extraordinary times and many of us are dealing with unbelievable hardship and loss due to  COVID-19. I want to share a story that I hope will inspire you to reflect and give thanks for the little things in our life, no matter how difficult circumstances may be today.

Like many members of the NMA community, I started as a runner. Then I moved into yoga, strength training, and exploring the mountains I call home in Boulder, Colorado. 

But until recently, I hadn’t ridden a bike since high school. 

Nonetheless, my uncle told me about a century ride for which he was organizing a team to raise money for Type 1 Diabetes research. So without much thought, I committed. 

Then I learned what a century ride even was: 100 miles… on a bike I didn’t even have… with six weeks to train.

Without any other options, I did what felt the most logical at the time: dive straight into the deep end. 

I bought a road bike (apparently, that’s a thing), and spent as many “hours in the saddle” as I could, learning from whatever experience the ride threw at me: 

I bonked, and had to learn about nutrition to fuel endurance training. 

I got tire flats (3 in just 10 rides, and learned to change a tire by watching youtube on the side of the road.)

I got stung by a bee (I’m allergic), and forced myself to stay calm while I rode 20 miles back to town. 

And, I fell in love with a new sport. 

While training, I had clear visions of writing a blog post recapping exactly what I did and how you could too. I was psyched, passionate, and riding high. 

When race day came, I started confidently, knowing that I had reached 84 miles on my longest training ride. I knew I’d finish the full 100, so I started focusing on the time and aiming to beat my best pace… I passed the 50 mile mark in less than 2.5 hours. I was on track to accomplish a sub 5 hour finish. (Nothing special for seasoned riders, but a personal goal.) 

At mile 64, my race ended when I crashed, breaking my nose and eye socket bones, and impaling a plastic part of my sunglasses into my cheek.

Oh, and I exposed the bone in my nose. When I heard the EMT call for a helicopter,  because the ambulance would take too long considering my condition, I was left wondering if I was going to make it home to my 1-year-old son.

Here’s what happened, what it taught me, and why more than ever, I believe failure should be your best friend…  

The Setup: Training for a 100-Mile Ride in Just Six Weeks

What started as a wild idea quickly became reality when I realized I had just six weeks to train. So I figured I had two options: 

Tell my uncle that I didn’t have time to train and wouldn’t be riding with him.

Start riding my bike as much as possible, while fulfilling my duties as a parent, with more than one job, and allowing for muscle recovery between training sessions. 

I figured I’d start by testing myself with just a 20 mile ride. I had no conception of what that would even feel like, so, I figured, if I can do 20, I’ll put off quitting for a little longer. 

I did the 20 (slowly), and four days later, I tried 30 miles…  

And every 3-5 days, when my legs felt rested, I increased the length by 10 miles…  

Before long, I was doing real mileage — 50, 60, 70 miles, and with two weeks to go before the race, I completed my final long ride of 84 miles.

I was feeling so strong and confident that I began setting goals in my mind: I wanted to finish in under 5 hours — average pace of 20 miles per hour.

And even though I had only been on the bike more or less 10 times, I felt that I could do it… 

I even wrote down some tips, intending to write an NMA post that focused entirely on the training: 

Don’t try to put together your own training plan, without consulting any books, experts, or friends. You’ll miss basic tips, like “eat constantly so you don’t run out of energy and crash.” (At the time,  I meant “crash” as in “bonking”, not physically crashing.)

If you’ve never taken apart a bike, don’t wait until the night before the race to take apart your bike and try to fit it into a special shipping bag for the plane ride. 

A small amount of caffeine is great at the end of the ride.  

Start with slower-carbs (like Bobo Bars, PB&J’s, or this recipe for energy balls) earlier in the ride. Save gummies and gels for the end, if needed. It’s easier on your stomach; provides a better foundation for fueling past 50 miles; and, at the end of the race, you’re dry mouth won’t want to eat another “bar”, so sugar in drink or gummy form worked better for me. Tip: While the whole-food plant-based solution to workout energy, Plant Bites, weren’t a thing when I tried for this race, they are now. And they’re awesome.

The Glory: When Things Go Right

Early in the race, I was learning how to ride in a peloton. I had never ridden in a group, working together to save energy as we push against the wind.

“Wind,” as it turns out, is a factor when riding a bike. 

It was a blast. The person at the front of the group would push hard for 5-7 minutes, breaking the wind for all of us behind. When they were wiped, they’d peel off and line up at the back. The next rider would take the lead. 

When it was my first turn, I was more than a little nervous. The guy peeled off and said, “Just keep us at a nice 23 mph.” I responded, “I don’t have an odometer, so that’s one issue. And either way, I can’t keep a 23 mile per hour pace!” 

He smiled and said, “We’ve been doing 23 miles an hour this entire time…” 

I had a surge of energy… which was short lived, because leading the pack is tough work! I don’t think that I lasted a full 5 minutes before the guy behind me said, “Thanks for the pull. I got it.” I probably wasn’t keeping pace… 

My only other memory was a prescient one:

I thought to myself, “I’m right on the wheel in front of me — just inches away — going 20+ MPH. This peloton stuff is dangerous. If I fall, that would be really bad. Just don’t take down Glen.” (That’s my uncle, who organized 100+ riders for the day.)

The Fall: Taking Down Uncle Glen, and Nearly Taking My Own Life

Sadly, I took down Uncle Glen…. 

When I crashed, he was right behind me, and then went right over me. And then went to the hospital with me. 

That was one of the worst parts of the entire ordeal; the other was seeing my wife’s reaction to my mangled face. 

“Losing” in an (internal) competition is tough. Not finishing is generally worse. Ending in the hospital is really bad…

After my face smashed into the pavement, my first thought was, “I’m not OK. I need to call Adriana.” (My wife.) 

There is a tremendous amount of blood flow going to the brain. When you hurt your head, it’s very bloody. If you’ve ever broken your nose, you know how extreme it can be. 

Blood poured freely while I crawled towards the phone still attached to my bike. I somehow got enough cell signal to tell Adriana that there had been a crash. Then the call dropped. She was waiting for us at the next water station, at the bottom of the hill. When she saw an ambulance passed, she grabbed our son and followed it to the crash site.   

I was conscious during the entire journey from the ambulance to the operating room. I remember saying, “Thank goodness my face was there to break my fall. Otherwise, I could have really been hurt.” Adriana didn’t think that was funny, but I got some laughs from the doctors. She stood in the OR for hours, pregnant and holding our 1 year old son, while I was on the operating table. 

I’ll never forget when they rolled me past her, on the way to a CT scan to check for any number of possible injuries to my brain or other vital organs. It all got real in that instant. 

For the past hour, I had been making jokes, worrying about my uncle, and hoping to get out of the hospital, because I planned to treat my face with my own natural remedies, and I hate hospitals. 

But then, all of a sudden, I was heading for a CT scan and the idea of lasting damage, or death, became very real. 

What if I lose vision in that eye? Or both? 

What if I can’t see my son grow into a man. 

What if there’s internal bleeding? 

What if… 

Laying in the CT machine after having just seen her terrified face, the enormity of the situation washed over me. 

We take risks each day, from driving cars to riding bikes. 

And when everything is good, we take so much for granted — like my eyesight, our loved ones health and happiness, and the simple joy of a giggling little kid getting tickled by his mom. 

How precious life is. How precious life is.

It’s a phrase we’ve all heard so many times before, but laying in that CT machine, that’s all I could think about.

How precious life is. 

If I’ve learned anything — aside from how to ride a bike 64 miles and crash — it’s how fleeting life can be and how desperately we should try to enjoy the most simple pleasures. 

Every run or ride. Every smoothie, family dinner, and kid’s book. 

Every time we can roll over in bed without waking up from pain, or let water rush over our faces in the shower.  

(I lost much of the skin between my upper lip and hairline— on both sides of my nose, which is hard to understand how that’s possible. And with 100+ stitches, showering was a pain, literally.) 

So with all the different “goops” that I lathered on each day, all I wanted to do was wash my face vigorously. I couldn’t for months… Now, nearly every day, I consciously think about how nice it feels to let the shower hit my face. 

But perhaps the most simple pleasure: enjoying each moment with loved ones. 

Failures and Setbacks Leave Us With Opportunities 

It’s hard to believe, but in some ways, I would go through it all again to derive the perspective that I now have. 

I’m grateful for the adventure — and even the scars — because without them, I wouldn’t cherish every moment the way I do now. 

It’s because I failed in a grand, dangerous way that I’m left with a gift far greater than I could have ever imagined when signing up…

A new perspective and a deep appreciation for life. 

And while I certainly hope you don’t have to experience a near-death event to gain some appreciation, I do challenge you to stop running from failure. 

Failure leaves us with opportunity. Opportunity to grow, learn, and get better. 

We’re better athletes when we learn from failed workouts, and we’re better humans when we grow from failed experiences. 

So as we approach the new year, I hope this story will inspire you, just as the experience has changed and inspired me. 

Savor the little moments in your own life. Laugh and love as much as you can. Give your loved ones an extra hug. Call your old friend. Let the sun hit your face (something I’m not yet supposed to do until the scars fully heal)… 

And always wear a helmet.

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