#i always really feel his loss when realizing how clueless i am at setting up the same

[flockofdoves]

i need this to be the summer i actually set up using grocy and make the executive functions involved in grocery lists and finding out what to cook soooo much easier

but its still just slightly too over my head for me to figure out. id probably be fine if i had a windows laptop and bought a usb scanner and just did everything on my laptop since it has the windows desktop application

but my laptop has very limited space remaining and its a mac so i dont want to dual boot it. i guess i could look into a virtual machine just for using grocy??

but also regardless it might be nicer (and helpful for other stuff too) to self-host grocy

then i could scan from my phone and have it go to both my laptop (mac mojave) and my desktop (windows 10 but also planning on dual booting with some sort of linux soon)

but im just not sure at all how to self host it/best practices even if i did figure that out. i cant even figure out docker which so many people say makes it easier

i also have a shitty old screenless mac laptop i can connect with hdmi to a screen if needed and install w/e operating system on that maybe i could use to host stuff?? no idea if thatd be convenient or needed tho??

tech mutuals help :(

[antigoneidk]

can't help falling in love|t.h.

summary: when words can't speak enough, songs will do

pairing: tom holland × reader

words: 2k

a/n: well I think we all fell in love with this Tom right? I mean who wouldn't??? Wish more of that content cause I'm a sucker for him..

"Over yours tonight?"

"Yes. Bring your guitar too."

"We're about to have fun tonight."

"As we always do!"

And when it was just the two of you, you always had a great time. The chemistry that had been developed between you and Tom was indescribable and everyone seemed jealous of what you have created. It was amazing how much two people can connect, two different souls in such a little period.

You loved your little secret "rendezvous" as you liked to call them. He'd come to your place, or you'd go to his, sip wine and talk for hours and hours about everything. From how the world was created, to how your nail broke, or the way some theories of very famous scientists may be wrong, or how his brothers crashed his car without him knowing, even analyze the way social media work, or begging him to show you videos of the set for his upcoming film. Maybe you'd complain about how early you have to wake up the next day and he'd make fun of you before he realizes that he's going to wake up as early as you. And you'd beg him to stay, or the opposite. 

And after that, you'd grab your guitars and play until you fall asleep on the couch.

He looked so handsome concentrated on not losing any chord, not ruin the melody. His brown eyes focusing on the strings, his fingers following the sound in his mind, his body relaxed, and his ears longing for your voice.

How he adored listening to your angelic voice. He couldn't explain the way his heart melted with the sweet sound of yours, his stomach filling with butterflies, his mind following the heart on this chaotic, exciting, endless road. He didn't know if he was in love or not. It was confusing inside his head. He never knew what falling in love means, the symptoms are different from one person to another. But he was only looking forward to the time he'd have to spend with you, the feeling of enthusiasm getting stronger as the day went by. He knew that you were the only one that could bring the peace he searched for, it was you that brought those feelings that he wanted to see for himself. He admitted once that he wished you'd be more than just his close friend to himself. Yet, the fear of losing you was massive and your presence in his life was more important than his feelings. So the only way was to push them to the side.

You knocked on his doorbell and fixed your guitar on your shoulder while waiting for the door to open. You looked down at your shoes noticing how dirty they got but as you were about to somehow clean them with your hand, you heard the door open and your eyes met his.

"Hi," you said cheerfully leaving the guitar to your side and wrapping your hands around his shoulder. His familiar scent came to your nose, your eyes closing for a moment enjoying his smell, but also the sensation of his arms tightening around your waist.

"Hey, beautiful" he mumbled softly and let go of you. "How are you?" he asked grabbing your guitar and closing the door behind you. 

"Now that I am here I'm so much better" you confessed. "Oh, you didn't wait for me to help"  you complained seeing that everything was already prepared for you.

"Why would I need help?" he asked.

"Because...I am your friend and you don't have to do all of these for me"

"But what happens if I want to do all of these for you?"

You stared back at him without any answer to his question. You tried to read his face, understand if he was joking or not. If he was playing with your feelings or if he was just completely clueless. His puppy eyes nearly convincing your heart that everything was true, your mind shouting to not believe this. It was a battle happening right in front of you, however, you stood still and did nothing.

"I'm pretty sure you do not so stop saying things you don't mean and let's go drink"

____________________

"But she fell in love with him Tom. She was happier than ever. She was willing to be there for him  for the rest of her life, she stood by his side through everything, his madness, his anger, his sadness, his happiness-"

"He was suffering y/n-"

"If he loved her enough-"

"Do you know how is it feel to be stuck on a chair and not move even a single finger? No matter how big your love is for someone, sometimes you're losing the fight" Tom sipped his last drop of wine and looked back at you.

"If we were in this position, would you die just like him? Even if you loved me more than anything?" you questioned.

"I seriously have no idea y/n"

"I'd live for you Tom" normally you wouldn't admit this, the wine gave you the courage though to do so. "If I was William in that stupid chair, I would want to live with you for the rest of eternity" you glanced at him meaning every word you just said. Your love for him was like no other and for sure knew that you were more than willing to move every mountain to be with him forever.

"Stop saying things you don't mean y/n" he copied your words and grabbed your guitar from the floor, unsure if he should play it cool or say something more.

"You are not romantic babe" you played it off resting your hand on the couch and placing your head at the top of it while waiting for Tom to tune the guitar. "Also I was thinking of something today while I was working"

"You were thinking again?" he asked sarcastically.

"You piece of...give me that" you laughed and took the guitar in your hands."So, as I was saying, I was thinking that maybe today you should sing with me"

"Are you drunk?" Tom asked you disagreeing already with the idea you had in mind.

"What?"

"You know that I can't sing and even if it wasn't for that I would never sing with you"

"Why?" it felt kinda offending hearing those words as you didn't know why he felt that way.

"You have the voice of an angel y/n. I'm never gonna sing with you 'cause you'll hear how bad I sound and we don't want this trust me" he pulled his guitar close to him and smiled in your direction.

"I heard you singing before and you sound incredible so cut the excuses and follow me okay?" you didn't wait for any of his complaints. You started playing the song you imagined singing with him all day. The first reason being the fact that it was an easy song to play and sing. The second reason was the lyrics of it.

"Wise men say

Only fools rush in.." you began singing.

"Come on Tom..but I can't help falling in love with you" you continued hearing only whispers.

"Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin... I can't hear you

If I can't help falling in love with you"

Tom gained some courage and started singing louder. He didn't want to be unable to hear you, it was the thing his heart desired. But your expression, your eyes wide open begging him to join you. He could resist to them ever.

And the lyrics.

"Like a river flows

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be.."

You both stared at each other as you kept going. It felt more than just a song, more than just a famous melody. Those were words that none of you had the strength to say, not even dared to try. The fear of loss, the shyness of the last minute. You were saying to yourself that his teasing was just for fun, nothing more. Tom was doing the same. It wasn't complicated at all, but both your minds trapped in this maze, wouldn't detect the way out that was right in front of your eyes.

"Take my hand, 

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you..

For I can't help falling in love with you" 

You bit your lip and positioned the guitar to your legs keeping eye contact with him. The silence in the room was comforting, calming.  It definitely could say more than words.

Fuck it.

"I wish I could kiss you right now" Tom whispered under his breath, loud enough for you to listen. It was shocking. You blinked quite a few times doubtfully, assured that this was only a prank. But he was there looking at you, waiting for a reply. You were confused and he saw it too. His palms started sweating and his heartbeat increased in the blink of an eye. The voice inside him would stop yelling 'you screwed it' and his feeling got hurt quickly. He was ready to listen to you making fun of him, the plan that would break his heart in two. But your silence was currently the only thing he didn't want to. He searched for any signal on your face, even your body language but you were standing still as time had stopped.

"Then do it" 

He didn't hesitate for long. He was dreaming after all. Because this wasn't the reality he lived for sure. 

Fireworks, fireworks, fireworks.

He swore he heard them. The moment his lips captured yours he could hear those fireworks in his heart and ears. Bells were ringing and angels singing. Damn, I'm kissing one of them he thought. His right hand touched your neck deepening the kiss he was yearning for. Your lips in sync warm against his skin. His tongue over yours exploring your taste. Your perfume fueling his nose and brain, the butterflies dancing in their music now. 

It was magical. The goosebumps all over your skin making it even more real. Heart about to explode, all of the happiness hitting throughout your body. It was happening and still, it seemed like a fantasy. You slowly touched his chest and moved upwards to his shoulders making sure that you were really touching him and not any of your pillows. The sensation of his lips in yours was so much better than your imagination. Perfectly made for kissing you and only you.

You broke the kiss and the brightest smile he ever saw was on your lips. The lips HE was kissing.

"Y/n you have no idea how bad I wanted this to happen" he touched your forehead and with his thumb started to draw small circles. A tear rolled from your eye and dropped to his hand.

"Why did it take you so long?" you asked and closed your eyes feeling his breath hitting the skin of your face and hands.

"Baby don't cry. Please" he murmured.

"I'm just happy you know. It's no longer a fantasy or a dream. It's real" you admitted with your shaky breaths making your work hard. But you couldn't care less at that moment.

"I was afraid of losing you y/n. What if you didn't feel the same way? How was I supposed to know?"

"You wouldn't lose me okay? I'm feeling the same way Tom" you carefully brought your fingers at the top of his lips and touched them as you dreamed to. "I'm yours. I'll always be yours."

**the movie mentioned was me before you

**the song they were singing was can't help falling in love by Elvis Presley

Thank you for reading❤

[damselofblueroses]

The Name of The Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Chapter Summary: Kyungsoo takes you to a little noodle shop. Both of you were becoming aware of your own feelings, and during the dinner you were having some interesting conversations.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Chapter 2: The Hunter and the Goddess

You did not know how far Kyungsoo was planning to hold your hand like a treasure. You did not know if he was just enjoying the time then kick you out or he was going to change something between you, as holding hands or asking weird questions did not have a place in your relationship till now. What if he was planning something you never dare to think of? Maybe he’d encourage you to try new things since you were the one who telling that you were bored to death. What kind of new things was the first questions popped up in your mind, you knew Kyungsoo too well, that innocent school kid look was half true, he could put everyone in shame if he wanted to perform his charm and knowledge.

And you, unfortunately, knew that he was quite popular not only for his good-looking or his brain, but also some talents.

But you realized then that if he wanted to give you a demonstration, you would happily accept and let him to use those talents you really tried your best in order to keep yourself from questioning. If the man was Kyungsoo, you could be pathetically submissive and always eager to please him that you would do anything he wanted just to hear him telling you how good you were for him.

You exactly understood the assignment more than you asked for, the whole situation you were willingly putting yourself without an indicator was nothing but stupid, reckless, and risky to your mental and emotional health. There was a real threat ahead of you, if you were going to be over the moon and let yourself to dream the things you certainly could not reach, you would not overcome, and you were going to destroy your friendship with Kyungsoo.

Maybe that’s why you started to shake like stuck inside a blizzard. Kyungsoo sensed it, too. Maybe he thought it was very strange singe you were in the mid of fucking August and the weather was like a preparation room before entering to Hell, however he chose to keep his observation to himself, and he let your hand go.

You could scream.

God, you could scream so bad because of the loss of that bloody precious sensation.

Before you would say something, hell like you could do, he run his hand through your arm and drag you closer to his chest.

“It is about air conditioner.” he said, but in the blink of an eye all you could feel was the warmness, and how good his smell was. “And your little blue dress is literally little.”

His palm contacted your bare skin, the tip of his fingers were close to your neck, his touch was heavy, hot and it had you breathing a little bit faster than usual.

“Of course, my dress is little,” you attempted to save yourself from the misery. “I know it sounds impossible, but I am shorter even than you, Kyungsoo.”

“So funny you are.” the sudden look he gave you made your stomach flipped. “Sometimes I feel like I have to teach you not crossing my limits, I am a man after all.”

“What are you going to do?” you playfully whispered. “Bend me over your knees?”

“You have a point over there.” he was serious. “I would like to do.”

You hoped he did not mean it.

“I just say the truth.” you could not help but push him further. “Since when telling the truth is a sin? Cancel me if you want but sweet Jesus, Soo, you know you are smol.”

“Depends on which point you want to compare me with the other guys.” he claimed. “You never had a proper taste of me, darling girl, I am just a friend to you.”

Well, his comment hurt you, but you bit your tongue and quickly sealed a lid on the boiling heat inside of you. Your fingers rub at your forehead.

Proper taste of Kyungsoo, you thought, there was no beat of hesitation in your mind, you would willingly die for having a proper taste of him.

“Headache?” he asked and reached into his bag most probably he brought painkiller for you. Kyungsoo knew you to the bits, more than anyone else, he could read you like you were an open book to him. But this time, you wanted to keep it to yourself.

“No.” you nod. “How many destinations we have to arrive?”

“2 or 3. I am not sure,” he looked at around. “Most probably two. Are you hungry that much?”

“Yes, I am starving.” it was not a lie, you were really starving but not for food. Coming to Japan with Kyungsoo was a bad idea, you had never been unstable like this before. The invisible barrier between you and him made you mad. You knew that you were not one to unload the feelings onto someone, instead, you rarely bring them up, only when it was extremely unbearable for your heart. When you feel like explode. When you feel like suffocating. When the suffer become a load to carry.

To your dismay, you felt all of them right now.

“On your foot, soldier.” he carefully lowered his arm off your shoulder. “We came.”

“Okey.” you pull yourself to your feet and hurry to leave the bus. Kyungsoo pressed into the button, you step into the fresh air. “Now, to where?”

“This way.” he arched his brow and you two walked into the noodle restaurant in a quite silence. Your head was throbbing, heavier than usual with all those thoughts, hopes, secrets that you were keeping inside of you for a long time. You hardly realize that you reached to the place, but when Kyungsoo opened the door for you, you managed to save yourself from trouble.

The place smelled too good to be true. The smell of fresh noodles, side dishes made you dizzy, the cuteness of place as well itself.

Smol like Kyungsoo, you thought but you did not say this, you just looked for a table to sit. You turned to him, but he already found a place for you and held your fucking hand again. He did not think about his move, it was so obvious, he just did. Your heart was pondering while he headed to the corner of shop, more intimate with dim lights.

“We cannot be comfortable with those lights.” he pointed the roof out. “There are so bright for us. Is this table okey?”

“Yip yip.” you were disctracted by the pleasure of yummy smells. “I can feel the taste on my tongue even from these smells! Let’s sit!”

Kyungsoo chuckled to your enthusiasm, he knew that he’s being tormented by his inappropriate thoughts, but he could not stop thinking about you. Would you smile like this if he tells you how much he adores you for fucking years? Would you smile so gently like you smile when you see a blue rose or your smile was going to be fade like when you learned your grandfather passed away?

Kyungsoo shivered with the memory. It was the last thing he would want to recall, he wished to see you never ever like that. You could not smile for months.

But he could not prevent remembering your skin. So soft and so warm to the touch and your fucking lips, so plump, pink, pouty and always calling him to kiss you.

You looked so pretty today, it was not you were not pretty in general but today Kyungsoo felt like you were his, all his. There was no Baekhyun, no Chanyeol, no Jongdae which means peace to him because when you three came together, the only word could describe was cacophony, no one. He loved them more than any friends, but he secretly preferred having time just for you two. Just you and Kyungsoo. He could watch your excitement for a while, you were like a bird whose trying to decide where to set. He was waiting for the show you were going to put, when the waitress brought the menu, you brightly smiled to her and duck your head into it while unintentionally dancing.

Kyungsoo loved you more than he could tell for this. Being yourself in every situation.

You were bathed in the dim yellow light, and Kyungsoo clearly saw your upper half above the table. Navy blue cotton clung to your chest, tighter than Kyungsoo wished, that square cut-out revealed your pale skin and the blue necklace you wore was elegantly stayed above your collarbone. Kyungsoo could not define but your collarbone definitely doing something to him. He remembered that necklace with a blue, tiny rose, he gave it to you in your 23rd birthday.

He wished he could tell you that you were prettier even than blue roses.

Years passed out so quick, but Kyungsoo could not tell you how much he desired you during all those years.

He watched you, forgetting to blink. His gaze shifting over you, washing you with his admiration from head to toe. You were clueless, he knew that you were not aware of his feelings for you, but he was grateful for being able to absorb the extent of your beauty. Maybe you were not the prettiest girl of the town, for his eyes, you were the chef kiss for sure. He remembered he wanted to punch Chanyeol in the face for his comments when you got your pixie haircut, you were not looking like manly as he nonchalantly said, Kyungsoo never think he could find short hair as attractive but hell, he loved your new style. And your eyes, your goddam eyes, so big, outlined in carbon black liner that made your eyelids covered with a shimmery shadow.

You looked fucking gorgeous, and Kyungsoo was extremely vulnerable to your beauty. You gave him really hard times, literally and figuratively. And to his dismay, he fucking liked his bonds to you like he was an addicted.

“Have you decided on the orders?” Kyungsoo heard the waitress again and turned to her as he woke up from a dream. He realized he forgot to look at menu, before he could open it, you lifted your head and looked at him.

Damn you.

Damn your eyes.

Damn your lips.

“Did you?” you murmured. “I did.”

Kyungsoo could not get your lips out of his head, if he could, he would also decide what he was going to have. Godfuckingdamnit, he just wanted to drag you into his lap and kiss you fervently. Maybe you could understand how he has been feeling since fucking years if he would kiss you. He just wanted to ravage you like a starved man, and he fucking was.

“I want Inaniwa Udon.” you said as you were waiting for his reply. “And sake, if it is possible.”

Why not, he thought. As long as you were with him, he could allow you to drink as much as you wanted. Thinking you drinking without Kyungsoo gave him really heart attack, he knew you were not famous of having high alcohol tolerance.

“I will have Ramen Meat Tsukasa.” he smiled to the waitress. “Do you serve sake?”

“Yes, we do.” the waitress replied. She was very kind, and she was also smiling to your little dance figures. “Do you want two bottles, or one is enough?”

“I think one is enough for now.” Kyungsoo said this as a question to you, you hummed. “Maybe we will have another later.”

“Okey, I will bring your orders as soon as they are ready. Have a nice time.” the waitress made a little bow to both of you and rushed back to the kitchen.

“So, do you like the restaurant?” Kyungsoo asked to you. At his words, your smile widened, and the stars became visible in your eyes. Kyungsoo felt he started to melt inside.

“I love these tiny places.” you whispered sheepishly. “You know how much I love them, Kyungsoo.”

Yeah, Kyungsoo knew your preferences very well. What he did not know was the power your whisper has on him. It gave him electroshocks, he felt like a wriggling worm. He immediately fantasized on more intimate scenarios which you could whisper his name and God, he hated himself for that, but he could not stop. To be honest, even if it meant self-hatred, he did not want stop thinking about you. He loved to think about you far too much although he was perfectly aware of his mind wandering around extremely dangerous territory.

“For a second,” you stood up. “I have to use bathroom, excuse me.”

“Yeah.” that was his best shot since you started to walk because he did not see your back in this dress. His eyes followed you until you disappeared, drunk the sway of your hips. Kyungsoo’s opinion of your dress quickly changed, and he cursed Sehun under his breath, the cotton fabric wrapped your curves and gradually hugged your body till a hand above the knee, it multiplied your summer rose vibe.

He decided to steal that dress and set it on fire, fuck that dress, God, he hated it.

Kyungsoo wondered what was going to happen to him when you decided to go out with a guy. Not today, his mind reminded him but one day you were going to hang out with someone. Someone, but not him.

He squeezed his fingers just as he would strangle an invisible neck of unnamed enemy.

Actually, you went out for some dates in the past, but none of them worked for you. Kyungsoo vividly remembered how horrible those nights were for him till he could hear the story from you. To be honest, you were secretive about those dates, you did not give him details but he learned it did not work for you, it was enough.

Till now.

He did not want to admit it, but he was curious as fuck, why those dates did not work. What happened, why you were so adamant of not going out while you were extremely clever and pretty? Unfortunately, Kyungsoo was aware of not only your impacts on him but also on community. You were quite popular among the guys.

He was dying to learn the reason of your consecutive rejections, maybe it was about your taste of men. Maybe you were liking older guys, maybe you were liking younger ones, maybe you were preferring foreigners. Scenarios, choices, and possibilities were a lot, and Kyungsoo hated the truth to the bits, even though you had no idea how charming you were both physical and emotional, you could make a man falling love with you in the blink of an eye.

He hated it too much. He hated because he strongly believed that if you could think of him as a potential lover even for once, you would do something to make him fall for you.

You never try. You were always far from him, and he was already in enough pain because of the distance between you, even you were just beside of him.

“I am back!” your voice dragged him out of his dark thoughts. For a second, he thought he could beg you to tell him how you saw him as a man.

If you need a lover, let me know.

Kyungsoo wanted to tell this to you more than anything else, but he was a coward inside. He was afraid of losing you forever, he did not want to destroy the anything, if he could have you as a friend, as a study-buddy, he was okey. Not fine, but okey. At least he could be with you as his heart wanted.

“Food is not ready yet.” he choked out loudly enough to make your eyebrows knitted.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I am fine.” he nonchalantly answered. What could he say? Would he say he was thinking when you were going to have a boyfriend, how much he was going to be sad? Or could he tell you how much he wanted tear your dress off your body and worship you? “I am hungry.”

“I have a theory about the hunger of men.” you sat on your chair comfortably and pointed a finger to him. He wanted to catch that finger and kiss it. “For example, if you are hungry, you can be really scary. When Baekhyun or Chanyeol is hungry, they are grumpy. Is this something special to you, or is this a feature of men? We can be polite while we are waiting for food.”

“Do not go there.” Kyungsoo said lowly. “How much you know about men? Only me, our squad members, and your family. We can be also polite, and I am not fucking scary.”

“Sweetheart, I know men more than you believe.” you blinked mischievously, enough to startle him. “If a man is hungry, even the face expression transformed.”

“May I ask?” he started, but he could feel his hand beneath the table automatically turned into a fist. “How did you collect the information to support your weak theory?”

“By having dinners with them.” you grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat, and Kyungsoo hated to see also that. “You are not so different from each other, being so full of yourselves.”

You knew you were playing with fire.

You were trying to provoke him with your words. You were aware of Kyungsoo’s dislike of being compared with others.

Unconsciously you decided to make him mad at you in order to see if he had a feeling, even a little spot in his emotional radar, for you. If you could manage to annoy him that much, you knew he would talk. He would give hints at least, but he would do something.

You were more than okey even for a hint, you realized you were up to your hair, you were done with waiting for a sign. You realized your burned yourself out to the bitter end, you were done with waiting for him. You wanted nothing but him, you could say you did not and you would be lying your ass off if you did.

He stared at you as his expression was hard to decipher. He could be wanting to beat the shit out of you or thinking for an answer to shut your mouth for all eternity. Both of the options were possible.

“Your meals are ready.” the waitress came back with the gigantic bowls. “Enjoy, and bon appetite.”

“Thank you very much.” you bowed at her as she placed your meals onto table. As the smell attacked your nose, you rushed to pick your chopsticks. You had a sweet spot for Udon, but it did not mean you were not going to steal from Kyungsoo. You opened the water bottle, took a long sip, and turned to Kyungsoo to ask if he wanted water or not, and you fucking froze.

He was pouring sake for you just like the most important job he has been doing till now.

You were very fond of the level of attention; he was giving to everything he did. You could watch him forever, anything he did turned into art for you. God, if you could see your face right now, you would clearly understand how he affected you, your lips parted and your breathing was becoming heavier, holy shit, because he was pouring fucking sake!

“Can you stop staring at me like a freak?” he asked. You keel over in the chair, nearly shooting water out of your nose. Quickly, you swallowed and covered your mouth and averted your eyes while blushing like a schoolgirl but what made you blush was not being caught by him, you exactly saw that he was blushing while he scolded you. He was fucking blushed, you were %100 percentage of sure, his cheeks were turned into pinkish. “Here you go.”

Your hands were shaking a bit, but you managed to hold the cup.

“Thank you.” and you drunk it. You really needed something to cool you. “May I have the bottle?”

You knew Kyungsoo would make the process slower and to be honest, if he was going to take charge of sake, you would not nothing but staring at him like there was no tomorrow.

Tomorrow… You were feeling nervous about the future. You wanted to keep both of you at this moment. Just you and Kyungsoo. Together.

You shook your head just as you wanted to clean your mind from negative thoughts. The moment you had was the most important one and you did not want to destroy it by thinking about what was going to be happen. Kyungsoo was with you right now, even though you were not sure if you would last for the end of this trip.

He handed the bottle to you, you nested it close to yourself and poured another one. You drunk it too while Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow which you wholly ignored, then processed to eat your Udon. Flavour erupted on your tastebuds, and you started to eat like you did not have a meal in the last week.

“Holy shit.” you cursed when you gave a little break only to pour another one to yourself and Kyungsoo’s empty cup. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kyungsoo unwillingly laughed at you. “Please remember to breath, I do not want to be ended in the emergency.”

“You do not have to accompany me if the noodle stuck on my throat.” you drunk your third, allowed the liquid to slide down your throat and a warmth burned in your chest as it stayed there. You poured the fourth one. “My Japanese is better than yours.”

“Due to the speed of your consumption of sake,” he started with a fair point, you had to admit. “I am not sure if you can perform your Japanese skills. Instead, it looks like you will be bubbling in the end of this night, of course if you do not manage to kill yourself. Damn, take it easy.”

“No worries, I am a tough cookie.” you arched your brow, and your eyes fixed your Udon. “I will not be drunk.”

“What makes me worried,” his eyes continued to remain fixed on you. “Your unexpected fondness of sake. Do we have to order the second o-

“Yes.” you interrupted him. “Order.”

You knew that on the contrary what you said to him, you were going to be drunk. Hell, you wanted to be. A smile tugged up on your lips as you took another mouthful bite of your food. You wanted to be a drunk tonight and relax. Kyungsoo did not refuse your wish, he ordered another bottle while you were sending the fifth cup to your stomach.

“Now, tell me.” he jabbed. “How many dates you had till now?”

“Why are you asking this out of everything?” you asked with a sincere curiosity.

“I want to elaborate your theory, but before doing that, I have to collect information on the experimental group.”

“Ah.” you swallowed thickly. Hell, what it would be, damn Kyungsoo and his logic. “Well, I had three dates which you know. I had two more, which you did not know so the count is five.”

“Five.” he blinked. “Five men are not enough to hold a theory such includes everyone on this planet, and you were telling me we all same with a great confidence.”

“They were pretty same.” you turned your head away and poured another sake. You could feel that Kyungsoo was getting more tense after every cup you drunk, but you had zero fucks to give. “I was ended up with disappointment.”

“Why?” he caught you off guard. “You never tell me the whole story. What was wrong?”

They were not you, you thought in the safe silence in your mind but there was no enough amount of sake would make you tell this to him in the world. Maybe you start to feel a little bit dizzy but even if you would be on your knees, you would not confess the real reason.

“I do not know.” Yeah, there was not enough amount of sake would make you to confess, but the amount of sake which settled in the pit of your stomach made you more talkative about your affairs. Maybe it was about the need of showing Kyungsoo that you were a fucking girl, you could attract people also. “They were not made for me, I guess.”

“This is the result.” Kyungsoo furrowed his brows. His icy resolve frozen across his features. “I want to hear the story behind this result.”

Kyungsoo could not believe how he would let you to drink your seventh cup of sake and open the second one but in the deep of his heart, he knew the real reason. He wanted you to talk. God, he needed you to talk his ear off. He could die to learn what type of guy would attract you, and he could try to be that man.

“I am not sure how to explain that but,” you rapidly shook your head again. “It is all fucking disappointments for me. I do not know what they think about me, but when I go out with someone, I always ended up in home, calling Baekhyun or Chanyeol and we talked on why I felt like shit.”

Kyungsoo knew that getting you to talk always meant for extra efforts, he never pushed you. He never dragged you into the conversations you clearly did not have an intention to have.

Till now.

Providing you with company and asking nothing in return was not his best choice today. He was okey with asking nothing in return, he never expect anything in return for his company, but today he wanted to learn about your affairs.

“Could you decide?” he whispered. “I mean, why you felt like shit in your words?”

“Do you prefer more refined vocabulary?” you chuckled, and Kyungsoo understood that you had to be dizzy right now. You had two types of chuckles, and this one definitely a result of alcohol.

He did not prevent you from pouring the eighth one.

“No, speak as you want.” he did not let you go out of his palms. You were in his palms right now, he hooked you in his net, and this was going to be first and last he dragged you to a place you obviously did not want to engage.

However, he needed to learn. Just for once, he crossed all boundaries between you. All rules.

“Putting aside your quite vocabulary,” he pushed you to continue. “What was wrong?”

“Everything.” your eyes flitted up his face. Your gaze fuelled the excitement that already started to make its way in Kyungsoo’s lower stomach, an excitement that has been brewing since years as you have been lingering in front of him for an extremely long time.

“I cannot say that they were bad people, on the contrary, they were lovely.” This was not what Kyungsoo wished to hear, your words made his heart flipped, but not in a pleasurable way. “They were kind, nice, clever and to be honest good-looking. However, I did not feel anything towards them. I tried, Kyungsoo, I tried to do my best, but I am tired of ending up with same result. I did not find them attractive.”

You suddenly remembered the kiss of one of your dates gave you. You were not sure if you could call it as a kiss, Chanyeol and Baekhyun, those dorks, laughed at you their asses off when you told them that guy pressed his lips to yours and you immediately pushed him so strong, enough to made him lost his balance and fell on his butt.

“Were they,” Kyungsoo cleaned his throat.” Good companies? I am trying to understand why it cannot work for you.”

“No, they were.” you ponder, then a laugh fallen from your lips. “They really were, especially the last one. He was a good company even if he was a bit handsy.”

Kyungsoo’s chopsticks stuttered. You said it nonchalantly, you were dizzy as fuck, he could see that, but you said it to him as if it did not mean anything that the unnamed bastard invited his hands over your body, instead he should be on his fucking knees for you. His teeth shattered; he could feel his jaw was clenched with the thoughts he had to refuse for the sake of God.

“Being a little bit handsy does not sound a good company to me.” he said between his teeth. “Is that why you ended up feeling like shit? Did he force himself on you?”

If he did, God mercy on him because Kyungsoo was not going to. You were already drinking your tenth cup; he was sure he could learn that bastard’s name. He knew that right now, he was crossing your boundaries and taking advantage of your current hiatus, he was not better than that bastard, but he was not going to stop.

“No, he touched my inner thigh during the dinner.” you whispered. “Then he kissed me after the ride to my home he gave.”

“And?” Kyungsoo had to take a deep breathe and he poured sake for himself, even though he wanted to focus on you. “Did he ask at first place?”

“He did not.” Kyungsoo felt his heart was tightening in his chest because of anger. He wanted to find that fucking bastard and fuck the shit out of him. He already started seeing you in front of the door of your home, and that moron dragged you into his arms and kissed you without asking. Did they really think, this would be romantic or manly? This was sexual attack. Kyungsoo could not endure to imagine you while that moron run his fucking pawns over your face. Pulling you into a kiss if he could call that a kiss. His blood was boiling as he could not stand someone disappointed you, destroying your ideas and hardly built self-confidence. He hated to see that, he has been watching you since the first day you met, and he was fucking aware of your self-perceptions. He bit back a wave of curses, and he resisted the dire need to ask you this guy’s name and address in order to chop his head.

“He had to ask for your content.” he literally growled, enough to make the customers at near tables turned to look at you. You blinked.

“I pushed him.” you whispered. “And he fell on his butt.”

For a second, Kyungsoo did not understand what you said, but when he understood he could not help but laughed.

“I could kill someone to see that moment.” he mumbled. “I wish I could see.”

“It was not a good memory.” you admitted. “I really hated every moment of that memory. He was a good guy, but at the end, when he kissed me, I wanted to puke my stomach out.”

Kyungsoo lost the little trail of joy.

“He was not a good guy.” He literally growled.

Suddenly, the tension was transforming into something different. Your face was becoming too warm, and your blood pressure was rocketing into sky.

It was neither Udon not sake.

You raised your eyebrows as you looked at Kyungsoo as you wanted to ask what he meant, but you kept your question to yourself.

“Why did you not tell me?” he asked. “I knew you are not talkative about these, but you could talk with me at least when you had experienced a shitty guy like that filthy bastard.”

“Well, excuse me for being so clueless,” the filter between your tongue and brain stopped working at that moment, and you lost it. “But that was my first and last kiss, and I was shocked!”

Kyungsoo’s chin was dropped. He stared at you as becoming senseless to any other sound. He took a set of full seconds to actually register your words, then his eyes widen.

You were not aware of the weight of your confession. Your mind was foggy and you already lost yourself in Kyungsoo.

“What?”

This was the best shot of him.

“It was my first kiss.” the heat of your face became unbearable. “And it was unexpected, I did not give him my consent, I was definitely in shock.”

Kyungsoo listened to your words.

“Are you,” he heard his voice. “Are you a virgin?”

“Do not say it like a blasphemy.” you could not help but protested. He looked at you as he was having a heart attack.

He actually was.

He guessed that you were not experienced but a virgin.

Godfuckingdamnit, he did not expect to hear that.

“And that bastard destroyed your first kiss.” he could not prevent himself from punching his thigh. Harshly. He was really out of his mind due to anger, he knew that he could not be with you, but destroying an experience for you was equal crossing his limits. He noted finding that guy when you come back to your homes mentally. He did not know when, how or which way but he was going to find that scumbag and make him pay for his wrong deed.

You looked so vulnerable. How could that moron dare to destroy an important moment of your life?

“Yeah, he did.” you partially smiled, Kyungsoo could not believe you were smiling. Did you lose your shit? He was supposed to ask you why you were smiling like a freak; you lifted your eyes to his. “But talking with you made me happy.”

Kyungsoo hated himself too much.

He made you talked about a horrendous memory in order to learn about your preferences. He even let you drink one and half bottle of sake. He used the old excuse in the book however after learning this incident, he realized once again, you were his priority to take care of, to look after, you had to be happy, healthy, and successful. You had to live your heart as you wished, and Kyungsoo was sure as fuck he was going to do everything in his power for you to blossom.

You were his rose after all.

Every nerve in his body may steered him to you, attracted to you like a magnet, he could refrain his feelings. Even if you were not going to come to him, he was not going to push you never again. Never.

“Next time, tell me before a date.” he snorted. “It seems to me you are bad on choosing a man, that piece of shit did it all wrong.”

Your heart was pounded in your chest.

Did Kyungsoo just point the issue of asking for content or was there anything more he indicated?

If he said something was wrong, it meant he knew the true way of doing it, fixing and giving you a proper memory. He never talk if he did not know the right way.

“How?” you asked to him with your big-doe eyes. Kyungsoo startled for a second, then understood what you asked.

“What do you mean with how?” Kyungsoo stared at you. “He had to ask for consent first, obviously. If it is yes, a man can continue.”

“What if I would say yes?” you could not help. You could not stop. There was a frustrating fire in the pit of your stomach, made you uninterested to anything but Kyungsoo. Maybe you did not know many things but you were aware of only Kyungsoo could do something about it. You did care it anymore, you just wanted Kyungsoo to show you the right way.

“There is a progress.” Kyungsoo cursed himself for telling you this. “It depends on how much you wish to move, but basically there are three bases and before every step you are going to take, you have to ask your partner if she or he is still okey with the progress.”

“I see.” you nod.

Both of you started to think about each other in that progress. What would it be, how you react to each other after waiting since the first day you met. Both of you rejected to think about it, and both of you know that you were going to imagine it when you were going to be alone in the safety of your rooms.

“That’s why that scumbag did it all wrong. If you want someone to touch you, remember asking for consent is the most important rule.” Kyungsoo disgusted by the idea of someone touching you. Even thinking about him giving him headache, he was annoyed by the fact that you were going to choose someone, and you were learning the rules from Kyungsoo.

To choose someone.

He was mad. He was angry. God, he wanted to set something on fire.

“Is there any different rule?” you could not take your eyes off Kyungsoo.

“Many.” he was back to giving short answers.

“I want you to teach me.” you said without thinking.

“Ha?”

Kyungsoo was not sure if he could hear you correctly or not.

“You told me that guy did it all wrong.” You were not going back from here this time. You were fucking not. “I want you to teach me the right way.”

Kyungsoo was sure there was no capacity left his lungs to breathe. He kept looking at you, you waited his response patiently.

Was it you or sake?

You did not know. You did not care.

You just wanted to feel Kyungsoo. Helping you on the issue was only something he could do, by your -twisted by alcohol- logic, you persuaded yourself, if he put you in this situation, he had to help you getting out of it.

“How much you drink?” you heard Kyungsoo, but you were already decided what you were going to do. He was going to say yes. He had to say yes.

“I am not drunk, Soo.” you said. “I am sober as fuck. Teach me.”

Kyungsoo stared at you for a while, then he stood up and reached to your hand.

“Come.” he said. “We are going back to hotel.”

Kyungsoo felt like a hunter, he finally grabbed your hand, while he was paying for food, he did not let you go away from him. Instead, he pressed your body to his, you closed your eyes when your chest perfectly pressed on his toned forearm. You heavily breathed, Kyungsoo led you out of the restaurant. You immediately headed to the way back to the bus station, but he stopped you.

“We are going to take a cab.” Kyungsoo. “Faster.”

You could not help but laugh at his eagerness to be back. Your heart started to sing inside of your chest, for a magnificent moment you could almost make yourself believe that Kyungsoo wanted you as much as you wanted him. You wanted to devour him you did not know what made you bold at this level but you just wanted to drown in him. You knew that he was going to lecture you about what you had to do when you have a date, when you would be back at hotel, but you really hoped for at least he was going to give you a demonstration on kissing someone.

If he would not, you did not know you could overcome with that moment.

Kyungsoo was having an existential crisis. He was not sure if he understood you correctly, but he had to get you back to the hotel, he was sure of it since he really did not know until when he could control himself just like he did not want to rip that fucking dress off you and have you over and over.

At that moment, he saw a cab was coming to your direction and he turned to you.

He saw your eyes, shining by pure desire.

He lost his shit for the first time in seven years of your friendship.

He pulled you between his arms, his face was fucking close to you.

“It is okey, Kyungsoo.” you literally cooed.

He did not waste a minute and caressed your face.

[qqueenofhades]

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

[popcornbutterflymedia]

the teen show genre is back. that it had announced it’s grand return at such a time of deep uncertainty and unimaginable loss, especially for an entire generation of teenagers, is relief, respite, and a necessary and urgent gain. there is nothing but gratitude for this...for its intended audience and for those of us who will live vicariously through the lives of the kids, for those of us who will watch, and walk with the kids. for someone like me who longs to feel strongly about a story enough to write again.

despite my ‘desperate begging’ for the return of the youth oriented show. i did not picture this. in my defense, i did not know about this story at all. now, when i did learn the gist of the story, i did not expect much. it is, after all, a trope we’ve repeatedly seen in practically every language. in my defense, again, i would have found this show, and watched it anyway, in support of the network, probably be mildly entertained, slightly amused, and successfully distracted. and that would have been enough. i was bound to find this show, though during a deep dive into the youtube rabbit hole, chancing upon a japanese doll and an american cutie, realizing the creative team for this show is that creative team. my favorite creative team. i was sold.

i knew i was going to love this show enough to write. the question is, how? do i live tweet, take notes, and write a post for every episode, or do i live tweet take notes, listen, take notes and write one big post at the end of the series? judging by how much detail i know this team puts into a story in the form of metaphors, seeds, pay offs, connection and clues, clearly obvious in this first episode alone, this calls for an episodic post, for the peace of my own nerdy, detailed obsessed mind.

it is worth repeating that i haven’t read the book. this focuses on the series alone. no references, no comparison to its source material.

and it begins. oddly so.

first, a note on the casting: my attachment to a show is dependent on my attachment to the cast of the show. i spent the weeks and months leading up the pilot episode learning as much as i can about this refreshing cast of newbies. i’d been watching rise since it began, and so it wasn’t difficult to develop a soft spot for the five rise kids who are part of the show. as for the rest of the cast, their interviews and streams are all surprisingly impressive. i always like to say ‘walang patapon sa mga batang ito.’ none at all. they are all so special that i am in awe of how many gifted children are in one batch at one time, in time for a show like this. the teen show slot was vacant because it was waiting for these specific kids. 

everyone who was given moments on this episode made the most of their moments. episode one’s surprises were criza, who is a natural. i am just grateful naih was able to use all of criza’s kulit energy. gelo, i’ve known is funny, but it wasn’t until i saw him in character that i realized just how hysterical he is. i enjoyed his interaction with ysay, i am wondering if there is more of that. v no longer surprises. i find that she is incredibly underrated still. i love that girl. fictional life sometimes clouds my judgement, ever so slightly, but these mean girls, are the mean girls i would cheer for. i’ve just been enjoying the girls’ junket interviews so much that it is also a joy to watch them in character. aimee is spunky, sophie is incredibly poised. khloe is a joy to watch, and ash just fits in, dalia...i have never seen a girl with such strong presence and beauty since hopie. i have never enjoyed watching a local queen bee as much as i feel i would enjoy, and hate to watch kim. dalia is amusing to watch too, so there’s that. joao, you know i have always found reliable and competent. limer, i am just happy an actor like him is in a show as big as this. kaorys is my in on this show. they are favorites. i adore them. she registers well on camera, and rhys is music to my ears, and has such an animated, expressive face. i cannot wait to watch their subplot and write about them in detail. i am attached to these kids. i know they are going to be a joy to watch.

melizza, melizza deserves her own paragraph. i first paid attention to when she was answering those miss universe questions on rise, and my jaw literally dripped at how intelligent she is. that intelligence shines through in her portrayal of elle. she is self-aware, and aware of her co-stars in a scene. she is conscious of where she is in a scene. she does she is a realiable actress in that there is no fear that she will break character it doesn’t have to be her scene, but i cannot help but watch her. she isn’t a scene stealer, but she is always acting, always reacting. she gets the assignment: from speaking french to playing a nuanced mean girl whose meanness, is as she understands and plays elle, stems from fear, from being threatened. i actually love that. there is no real villain in this story, just kids navigating unfamiliar, ugly, strange feelings, with limited ways to express these feelings. melizza gets it. i said i am a melizza fan now. i mean it.

donny and belle individually: i had known of donny, watched him long enough to know him, and who his family is. since he started mostly on social media, this ate didn’t quite get the appeal. no offense, it’s just a generational thing. haha! when he started acting, he was like most greenhorns to me, appeal understandable, charming to an extent, but with still so much to learn. i missed his last acting stint before this show. i did not watch jpd.

belle is a going bulilit alum. that’s all i really need to know to trust the casting. i wasn’t a fan yet. i had no clue about the story so i did not know just how much weight the character carried, but by virtue of the fact that she’s been acting the longest out of the ensemble, i knew she knew what she would be doing. i knew the management knew what they were doing when they casted her. belle as the focal point of the story lends such an air of confidence that the story will be told well and that the necessary intimacies will be handled with care. belle’s ability to transform would make max’s arc effective. i did not watch jpd. i had heard about it.i had heard it was surprise. ‘the ending part...’ it was all too familiar: lizquen, circa 2012, must be love: ‘the ending...’

it was completely blind, complete trust.

their casting made me momentarily forget that there were multiple rounds of auditions, from which the each of the cast were carefully picked. it just seemed so random, that is, in context of say, kaori and rhys that could count kuya’s house as part of their shared history. so much of my acceptance of this new pairing depended on how much i trusted the team, and how i knew they worked. i then consumed any and all donbelle content i could find, which, at that time was painfully lacking. imagine the excitement when that first general assembly officially kicked off the hih junket, from then on, they started to grow on me. 

these are two calm, cool, collected kids, with a kulit side for sure, but they both take their sweet time. there is a formality and wide open space that was begging to be bridged with these two. there were times i would will myself to see it.  theirs isn’t an instant explosion of chemistry, but a sustained afterglow. once that was clear, the goal of sustaining this partnership for however long, how many other stories they can tell together, also became clearer.

it was the tv patrol interview by the lockers that had me sold. it was him joking that they were already married with three kids. it was the way he looked at her in that interview, the way he still does, with donbelle, it’s all the little, quiet things. i don’t know how to explain it, but if they were to jump into the emotional deep end together, i have no fear.

now, back to the beginning which i thought was strange. a recap of what i imagine is the entire first season, artistic as it may be, is one huge spoiler. i realized, this is based on a book. those who’ve read it obviously know what’s going to happen. such opening is meant to set the mood. it’s an invitation to emotionally invest. it’s safe to say, it accomplished those two goals, but i feel as though there is more to that opening. as someone who is clueless about the source material, it reassures that it doesn’t matter what we know, or don’t know, because this is less a story of ‘what?’ and more a story of ‘whys?’ and ‘hows?’this takes me back to the first general assembly when comparisons to the meteor garden, boys over flowers were brought up. i understand the comparisons, but now that the first episode has aired, i feel so strongly against it.  

this introductory montage is proof that it is not about the pieces of the story, but how the pieces are moved around to tell a story, to give us a fresh new perspective of a trope, starring stereotypical characters. the story is told in retrospect, with our lead looking back, taking all the pieces of the whole apart, rather than building the story as she goes along (which is incidentally how i like to take in stories).

the introductory montage is a device that allows a more expanded storytelling. the story is told from max’s point of view. it’s a story of how she sees things, this makes her an unreliable narrator due to her blind spots and clouded judgement. as the story goes along, the audience sees that it is not only max’s story, it is deib’s as well, and the rest of the characters’ stories, max only sees the bigger picture in retrospect. because i am such a nerd, imagine my kilig when i realize why that choice for an opening was made? i may have screamed.

notes, questions, favorite moments.

belle’s ‘sigurado,’ the first 4-5 notes of the hooked sprinkled throughout the episode.

on the road: the transition from max on the trike and deib, in his car rushing through a countryside road, if that was clean editing, i’d celebrate it...that the two people were on the same road at the same time travelling different directions is the most clever storytelling moment thus far. i love when seeds are planted and pay offs are grand. it was hardly a meet cute, but it was some intense head on collision. okay, i got it just then, the accident was a literal representation of their metaphorical colliding. it was a lot of things for her: irritation, wonder, disturbance, fascination, disruption. it was a complicated mix for him too, except clouded by the rush of having to be somewhere else other than that moment. charged. electric. spark. lightning that escaped him. (yup. more on that later).

this encounter begs the question: what was deib doing there? why was he in a rush?

the airport scene: ‘hinihintay ka na ng kapalaran mo.’ a beautiful verbal sign of things to come.

meeting daddy: it’s what uncertainty does to max that i find so disarming her fidgeting the heart shaped pendant close to her chest, summoning said heart for strength, and grace, counting on the assurance of its familiarity.

the car conversation with dad: still disarming. charming. curious. that the necklace from which hangs her heart shaped confidante was actually her dad’s gift to her mom. how heartwarming is the thought that the one thing that makes her feel close to her mom is actually from her dad who she is meeting for what i assume is the first time? i think it’s a beautiful irony.

the dinner table scene. the family dynamic it established. elle’s french, max wrestling with the chopsticks on the side.

sleepless max. her hidden vulnerability, and with whom that vulnerability finds comfort. who is babu?

max’s fist at the school entrance, and elle calling her out on it.

the cafeteria scene, and how that whole moment is the selling point of the story - brave max who does not care for the social rules of her new school standing up to the bully who happens to look the way he does. i won’t say she’s unaffected, but at that point  her view is clouded with the injustice she just witnessed, that is until they recognize each other. as a side note: ysay and lorde’s interaction made me smile.

the aftermath. max has now caught the attention of the whole school, she has caught the attention of the mean girls so much so that walking down the halls is social suicide. when aimee confronted her, (sophie did so well!) my eyes looked for elle’s eyes. there were layers upon layers of emotion there: shame, hesitation, confusion, fear, maybe anger, there was a flash of her wanting to connect too, or did i just imagine it?

the gym scene with all the boys. it’s probably my favorite...not really, but it’s the scene that gave me so much, the scene that proved to me that this is more than just a simple, one dimensional teen show. this one moment spawned so many fan theories online that i have yet to read. it’s interesting when we cross that bridge, but to me for now, it is from this point up to the debate that kind of turned the tables, and gave the story a sudden depth that’s unexpected. it made the audience pay attention to deib as well, that this is as much his story too. and on the aspect of change, in one interview (i can’t remember which one), i remember belle describing max as someone who wants to change the people around her, and through that, she is changed as well. i did not understand what she meant at that time, until this. and the debate.

the debate: i just love the debate, simply because i love words, but long-winded dialogue like that is risky especially on a show like this. i loved it. i loved the rhythm, poetry, and point of it. i love how layered it is. i loved how comfortable was delivering his lines. i did not cringe, which just means he has gotten better at this whole acting thing, and it’s always a joy to watch someone breakthrough. this moment was necessary as a springboard to the next scene, to show that the rivalry isn’t just a physical one, but a rivalry of the minds too. (i enjoyed that that was pointed out in one of the kumu lives)  this is also one of the scenes that proved what the introductory montage was trying to establish: that max is an unreliable narrator, that there are things she doesn’t see. i would say the tables have turned, and it has, but we also discovered that deib has always been the romantic, and max the realist. at that moment we know that max will be changed irrevocably. that ending took the wind out of me. that hurt, but it was thrilling too, made me excited for things to come.

 ‘love is like lightning.’ poor deib doesn’t know he has been struck by lightning, and is prone to the electricity of one. he doesn’t know it yet because of the gray sky gloom of his shattered heart.

the kiss is everything, it was shocking, kilig and all that, but in context of the story, it is more appealing more kilig to think of all the interactions that lead up to that accidental kiss, all the pent up tension in those interactions that is channeled into that meeting of lips. oh gosh! it just occurred to me, this kiss was predicated by such a verbose exchange just to prove a point, to win. it only took this kiss to shut both max and deib up. i would say there are no winners here. they are both losers to love. except. it’s still to early to call it, right?

in terms of the team up: implied as it is, this is what i mean when i say, i am unafraid for these two to go there, when necessary. there is such a safety i sense between donny and belle, in the way they care for each other. it’s beautiful.

to say that this show only promotes bullying to its young, impressionable target demographic, could not be more wrong. this show matters because it gives its characters (who are representative of today’s teen generation), complete arcs, and safe spaces for feelings no matter how ugly they are. it’s a show that allows teens to be teens, allows them to figure things out for themselves, a show that allows them to relate with one another, as they should. and the usual byproduct of emotional teens relating with one another is bullying. it’s not the best thing ever, but it is what it is. see, we can only pray and hope that the kids turn out to be good ones, but to expect kids to be perfect is out of the question. this is a work of fiction, of course there is a tinge of exaggeration. now, if you all are that bothered by the bullying, i hope there are adults watching with you. be kilig. have fun with the show, but always look deeper.

why do you think i needed three re-watches and few days for a post this long?

i am excited for the next episodes.

__

(if i think to add more, this will be edited).

[pinnithin-writes]

I Realized. Then I Couldn’t Stop Realizing.

Chapter 3: C-53

Depending on where he looked, it had begun that night.

Dar’s party plan ended up being a success, save for a few minor snags and broken bottles. AJ had a delightful time being tossed back and forth between Dar and Horsehat until the latter got drowsy and had to be put to bed. C-53 caught Pleck’s amused grin from across the room as he watched the action, elastic and amiable, and it struck him how long it had been since he’d seen the tellurian smile.

Now, they were stretched out on a hill in the countryside of a grassy nearby planet. AJ and Horsehat were snoozing peacefully a short ways off, while the rest of the crew settled into a comfortable buzz. It felt good to be able to stretch out his limbs in the cool evening; so much of his time on the ship was spent cramped into a corner so as to not take up too much space. Dar was sprawled beside him, and Pleck lay with his arms tucked behind his head between the two.

The suns in the distance were setting, purple and hazy. C-53 luxuriated in the strange calm electricity pumping through his system, relaxing in this rare pocket of quiet they had found in the turbulent galaxy.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Dar asked finally, their voice syrupy with alcohol. “How’s morale? Good? Better?”

“Definitely better than it was, Dar, thank you for organizing all this,” C-53 responded. Putting sentences in order was fun in this state - the dust accelerated his processors in a way that pulled random threads of his consciousness to the surface and pieced them together in interesting ways.

“Yeah, Dar, I think everyone had a good time tonight,” Pleck yawned. “Thank you for forcing me to go against my will.” There was a laugh in his voice, and it was pleasant to C-53’s audio sensors.

“Anytime, you big mopey baby,” Dar purred. “Barge? You having a good time?”

“Doing way better now that my vents are full of dust,” Bargie hummed from where she was parked on the hillside. “This was long overdue. We should do this every week - no! Every day.”

“Well, that would get incredibly expensive after a while,” C-53 reasoned.

“Yeah, I just wish Nermut coulda been here, yknow?” Pleck piped up again. “I mean, I guess he has his hands full with the campaign, but it would have been nice to see him.”

“Nermut’s got his own parties to go to,” Dar muttered, honeyed tone falling flat.

“Oh no,” Pleck said, rolling onto his side so he could look at them with his good eye. “Is it like the Rebellion all over again? Is he going through Seesu boot camp?”

The captain sighed heavy in the back of their throat. “No, it’s just weird with him right now. I don’t really feel like talking about it.”

“Oh, is he like, being all impressionable-”

“I said,” Dar growled, talons quivering, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Pleck had thankfully learned the signals to retreat by now, and he fell silent. Bargie, on the other hand, was humming loudly, engines whirring just for the fun of it.

“Hey Dar, if you wanna talk about it with me, I’ve got a ton of dust in my vents that would make it waaaaay easier to deal with,” the ship said.

“I’m not sure if that’s how that works,” C-53 began, but Dar was already clambering to their feet.

“That sounds great, Barge,” they said. “Boys? Can you watch our fully grown children while Bargie and I have a chat?”

“Oh, uh, you got it,” Pleck said, raising a hand in salutation while C-53 nodded.

After the captain disappeared onto the ship, Pleck settled back in the grass, looking forlorn. “Guess I jucked that one up, huh?” he murmured, the lavender sky reflecting off his eye as he gazed into the distance.

C-53 watched him carefully. “You know how they get sometimes,” he stated.

“I know, but Dar wanted to relax and I went ahead and made them all agitated again.” He plucked a piece of grass from beside him and fiddled with it, keeping his eye on the clouds. “Should just keep my stupid mouth shut.”

His processors hummed, tacking together Pleck’s words with data stored in C-53’s memory bank. “There are many times since we’ve met that I would agree with that statement, Pleck,” he said, recalling a particular incident years ago that nearly resulted in the tellurian getting ritually sacrificed. “But lately I would say you’ve been too quiet, if I can be frank.”

Pleck idly tied his grass stem in a knot. “Got a lot to think about,” he replied vaguely. He tossed the grass in C-53’s direction and watched it flutter to the ground between them.

“Such as?”

Pleck floundered, freckled face animated as he searched for an answer. “Well, y’know, the usual,” he finally said, “The Allwheat bearing down on us, the fate of the galaxy’s leadership hanging in the balance, hundreds of sentients out there dying for no reason, Seesu Gundu’s failing campaign…” he trailed off and shrugged, hazel eye refusing to look at him. “Y’know.”

“Is the Allwheat still contacting you?” C-53 asked, gently.

Pleck flinched at his words all the same. He scratched the side of his jaw. He needed a shave. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“How often?”

The tellurian was tearing out grass by the fistful, now, slowly and methodically. His eyelashes fluttered low over his cheekbones as he continued to avoid C-53’s scanners. “Almost every day. Multiple times a day, sometimes.” His voice was soft and cautious, as if he would set C-53 off if he said something wrong.

We instilled that nervousness in him, C-53 realized suddenly. It had been easy to belittle Pleck when he was his usual unflappable self, but now it was pitiful to see the results on his self-esteem. C-53’s processors buzzed, drawing conclusions for him.

It hurt. It hurt to see his friend like this. And it was partially his fault he had gotten that way.

For once in his life, C-53 was at a loss for words. AJ and Horsehat continued to sleep peacefully a few yards away while Pleck, white-knuckled, tore clods of grass out of the earth beside him, refusing to meet his best friend’s eyes. The dust filtering through his system wasn’t making it any easier for him to compute this, and he almost wished he had remained sober for this conversation.

Maybe that way he wouldn’t feel so helpless. Somehow, saying ‘I’m here for you’ felt horribly inadequate.

“It’s not just the fact that it talks to me,” Pleck continued after an agonizing stretch of silence. “It’s the things it says. It… knows me, somehow. Says things about me that are true and real and it gets inside my head.” His shoulders were curled with tension, his head bent low, blue hair skewing out of its ponytail.

“Things that are true?” C-53 asked. “You mean, facts about our missions, or-”

“Like stuff about who I am. As a person.” He tossed the grass away from him in disgust and folded his arms protectively around his own torso. He tucked his knees up to his chest and hunched over, continuing in a small voice. “I know this is all my fault already, okay? I don’t need Beano’s weird hybrid Rodd-ghost telling me about it constantly.”

Pleck didn’t cry, but he did look like a frightened animal, huddled in the grass like that. While C-53 gazed down at him, his fan kicked on, startling both of them. He didn’t think he’d taken that much dust, but his processors were definitely firing off under an unusual amount of strain.

“Sorry,” Pleck muttered. “That was probably too much, huh?” He carefully uncurled himself, stood, and brushed the grass off of his robe. “I’m gonna…” he faltered, remembering that Bargie was full of dust and an angry Dar and the rest of their team was sound asleep. He cast his eye around the grassy hillside and the farmland below, the sky purpling around him. He looked so lost.

“Pleck, if I may,” C-53 ventured. His frame was vibrating uncomfortably from the heavy industrial fan, and he hoped it would kick off soon. “You don’t have to tell me about this if it upsets you. We can talk about other things. Or we don’t have to talk at all.”

The tellurian stared at where C-53 lay in the grass, the expression on his face complicated and messy. He always wore his emotions on his face. It was a marvel none of them saw his breakdown coming sooner.

After a beat, Pleck reached up and undid the rubber band keeping his hair back, shaking out the ponytail and letting his locks fall around his shoulders. “Sure. Sorry. I’ll…” He wrapped the rubber band distractedly around his wrist. “I’ll stay. I can stay here.”

And stay he did. They settled into companionable silence, absorbed in their own thoughts as the stars blinked into view around them. C-53's fan eventually stalled to a halt. At one point, he thought he saw Pleck’s lips moving in a silent, prayer-like repetition, but his scanners couldn’t quite track what he was saying.

His dust-addled cube was drawing up memories and notions he had long since compartmentalized, scattering his internal filing system with careless abandon. Pleck had come a long way since they’d all first set foot on the Bargarian Jade. He wasn’t clueless anymore, though he did blurt the occasional tactless observation every once in a while. He’d escaped federal tyranny, survived a bitter revolution, and resolved to lead the next one of his own accord with nothing but a stupid stick and his own naive willpower.

C-53 remembered the first time their consciousnesses had been tied, when they were at Suetopia and experiencing each other’s emotions as they happened. Pleck had felt so unsure, so curious, and so happy to be around friends. Friends. Had C-53 considered him a friend, then? He wasn’t sure when that had happened, but he did know the next time the two of them had been neurally connected, inside Kevin the blob, the experience was entirely different. C-53 had felt awash with every kind of emotion, a pleasant, peachy feeling he attributed to being one with hundreds of other sentients.

But… no, that wasn’t right. The dust zinged up and down his coding, plucking at his memories like a harp.  He remembered dawning understanding as he laid scanners on his crew, feeling their emotions submerging him, passing between them and identifying them one by one. He remembered locking eyes with Pleck last, cringing away from a fear and nakedness that softened in the orange glow around them. He remembered being flooded with longing, a latent ache in his wiring that he felt as his own, though it didn’t originate from his cube. He remembered. He remembered.

He... remembered.

“Oh my Rodd,” he blurted, realizing a nanosecond too late he’d exclaimed it out loud.

“What?” Pleck startled, looking around. “What is it?”

“I uh,” C-35’s cube was in overdrive as he scrambled. That look he’d given him in the blob, that ache deep in his fibers, that quiet hesitation every time they were close. Pleck had feelings for him. Strong feelings. Why had he buried that? Why had it resurfaced?

“...I saw a shooting star,” he lied.

Gullible, trusting Pleck believed him instantly.  “Aw, I missed it,” he said.

“It was on your blind side,” C-53 replied, hating himself for continuing the ruse. “I’ll point it out if I see another one. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. They’re fast little guys. Used to get them back on Rangus Six all the time.” Pleck stared fondly up at the velvet night, reminiscing.

C-53 wanted to slip into low power mode so that he could better examine this sudden realization. His tellurian coworker, his best friend, the man lying drunkenly in the grass beside him, had yearned for him for… months, possibly. At least a season. How had that happened? How had he not realized sooner? Was he still yearning, after all this time?

Pleck stretched his arms luxuriously over his head. “Hey, C-53?” he asked, his voice going soft with drowsiness.

He angled his chin ever so slightly. “Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

C-53 hoped Pleck couldn’t hear the strange, small juddering noise coming from his internal processor. His vocal modulator was slow to start up, but it spoke the truth.

“I am, too.”

Chapter 2 <-----> Chapter 4

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello darling! Are you still doing fic recs? Because I am in dire need of self-conscious Sherlock. Don't ask me why but I am just craving sad, lonely little sherlock getting comforted by John. Help a girl out? Thanks so much either way!

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Heyy darling, I just wanna say that I LOVE YOUR BLOG SM! Everyday I spend here looking at your posts and reading thousands of awesome fanfictions, so thank you lol 💜 Also, could you maybe give me a list of all fanfics with insecure!sherlock or insecure!john ? And lots of angst, like reading/watching/seeing things they weren’t supposed to see that has their love on it, stuff like that hahaha Thank you babe 🖤

Hi Lovelies! 

Always! I actually started a list a short while back because someone else asked for one but I can’t find the ask, LOL. I’ve actually done a post in the past for it, but I think I’ll just redo it and stamp it with Jan 2019, LOL. Here we are!

I know I have more but I haven’t retagged all my past readings, so I’ve only included ones that I remember indefinitely is an insecure Sherlock or John

INSECURE / AWKWARD SHERLOCK OR JOHN (Jan. 2019)

See also:

BedSharing Pt. 2 and Insecure Sherlock

BAMF! But Insecure John

Bands by dragonQuill907 (T, 1,017 w. || Established Relationship, POV Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock) – “Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.”

Secrets by 796116311389 (G, 1,084 w. || Drunk Sherlock, Drunk Confessions, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock) – “He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I’m not. Not his best person.”

Under The Covers by berlynn_wohl (E, 1,221 w. || Est. Rel., Shy Sherlock, Anal, Fluff) – John would have liked to have the lights on and seen everything, but Sherlock was shy, so they did it this way, always.

29 January 2017 by wearitcounts (Sher_locked_up) (E, 1,765 w. || Anniversary, First Time, Insecure Sherlock, Love Confessions, Post-S4) – “That,” John says, “should have happened years ago. Maybe even the first time.”

Loudly Unspoken by Mount_Seleya (M, 1,871 w. || Post-TAB, Love Confessions, Vulnerable Sherlock, Frottage) – John confronts Sherlock about the words he left unsaid on the tarmac. Set immediately after TAB.

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.

Unmissed by 221b_hound (M, 3,235 w. || Est. Rel., Pet Names, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock) – John enjoys a good brawl during a case, and Sherlock begins to worry - when they retire, will John get bored? Will John get bored and leave. But even if John isn’t a genius about cases, he knows a thing or two about Sherlock’s panic attacks about them as a couple. With only four days till the wedding, he’s not about to let Sherlock continue with this misplaced notion that John will be bored in retirement. Part 20 of Unkissed

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock’s belly.

Acceptable Behaviour by bbcatemysoul (M, 3,449 w. || Fluff, Dev. Rel., Miscommunication, First Time) – Sherlock isn’t really sure why John wants to shag him, but he’s certain that if he’s careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it. In other news, John is a good boyfriend and Sherlock is an idiot.

In Nomine by Atiki (E, 3,517 w. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Domesticity, Love Confessions, Sherlock Loves John, Overwhelmed Sherlock) – “Alright?” John asks gently, planting a kiss on Sherlock’s left collar bone, smoothing a hand down his chest and belly until it rests in the soft trail of hair below his belly button. John’s smile is all soft and warm. His hand feels tender and solid and real. A soldier’s hand. A surgeon’s hand. A lover’s hand. Oh. “John”, Sherlock gasps. And that’s where it begins. Written for a prompt on the Kink Meme: The only word Sherlock says during sex is “John”.

MR# 1430155 by blueink3 (T, 3,560 w. || Talks of Parentlock, Baby Watson, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst) – John paces the length of the not inconsiderable hallway and glances at his phone for the tenth time since he exited the hospital room seven minutes ago. Sherlock’s last text was sent at 5:06pm. It is now 5:39pm. He should be here by now. After all, his daughter is 46-minutes-old and if John is going to share this momentous event with someone, it sure as hell isn’t going to be the woman who just gave birth to her.Part 5 of Tumblr Prompts

Rumpled by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,601 w. || Est. Rel., Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, PWP, Proposal, Bottomlock) – Then, halfway through a documentary on river otters that neither of them was paying attention to–how could John, with a gangly, limp consulting detective practically purring in his lap?–Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, looked at John with a perplexed expression and a crinkle above his nose, and blurted, “Marry me.” Part 4 of Longitudinal Cohort

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911 w. || Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.

Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson  (T, 4,054 w. || Friends to Lovers, Pining Sherlock, Vacation, Anxious Sherlock, Love Confessions, Fluff, Requited Love) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.

Everything by patternofdefiance (E, 4,409 w. || Snuggles and Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Vulnerable Sherlock) – John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock.This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong.Rather, it feels the exact opposite. Part 13 of I Blame Tumblr

a violent flash of purple by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 4,749 w. || Sex Toys, Friends to Lovers, PWP, Love Confessions, Porn With Feelings) – When Sherlock accidentally drops his towel, he ends up revealing a whole lot more than he’d intended.

Bed-Sharing Between Flatmates by testosterone_tea (T, 5,053 w. || 5 and Ones, Bed Sharing, PTSD John, Science, Whump, Insecure Sherlock, Asexual Sherlock) – 5 times Sherlock had an excuse to share John’s bed, and the one time he didn’t need one.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to receive pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.

All the Flavours, Cherry and More by cwb (E, 6,274 w. || Est. Rel., Lip Gloss, Lingerie, Birthday Presents, Insecure Sherlock) – Sherlock feels a blush rising to touch his cheeks, more sensual than uncomfortable now that he knows John isn’t disgusted by him. No, John is responding exactly the way he had hoped.

The Inciting Incident by beetlemate (M, 6,291 w. || Masturbation, Embarassed Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Fluff, Friends to Lovers) – John catches Sherlock in a compromising position. With a secret photograph. He absolutely must know what is in that bloody photograph.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Inside by magikspell (E, 6,757 w. || Loss of Virginity, Anal / Rimming, Fluff, Humour, Awkwardness, Shy Sherlock, Bottomlock) – “Being inside someone. Feeling someone inside you.”

Abatement by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 6,816 w. || Est. Rel., Retirementlock, Fluff, Sherlock’s Self Esteem, Grumpy Sherlock) – “What’s wrong with you? You love the cottage,” John glances over to the passenger seat, then quickly turns his eyes back to the road. Driving was still not his forte, but considering Sherlock still couldn’t properly bend and lift his new knee enough to press and release the clutch, he had to make do. Not that Sherlock hadn’t tried to argue his way into the driver’s seat. “I love the cottage for a week or two, John. Don’t be deliberately obstuse,” Sherlock grumbles, sinking further in his seat. Well, as best he can with a four-week-old knee replacement. “And that’s all we’re going for, love,” John says out loud. But what he’s thinking is, shit. He knows.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you’re coiled like a spring and ready to be … sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don’t mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

The T-Shirt Thief by allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet (T, 7,968 w. || Mutual Pining, Post Canon Fix It, Dev. Rel., First Kiss, Domestics) – Sherlock steals John’s t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?

Drive by lifeonmars (M, 9,537 w. || Virginity, Awkward First Times, Minor Injuries) – John and Sherlock are stranded by the roadside, and John is injured. They need to spend the night in the back of a humvee. Sherlock is confused. John is understanding.

The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”

the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.”“Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of

And Here We Are by J_Baillier (T, 12,416 w. || ASiP Fic, Alternating First Person POV, Drama, Friendship, Mild Case Fic, Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Protective John, Pining, Homophobia, Loneliness, Angst, Humour, Domestics, Morbid Fluff, Kidnapping) – All the little things we never got to see when an army doctor and a consulting detective were adjusting to sharing a flat. And a life.

Let’s Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w. || Texting, Humour, Post S2, Awkward Romance) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He’s charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased.At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn’t getting cold feet about the wedding… Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate…

Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficlets. They are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.

In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant – but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it’s all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia

Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w. || Established, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Unkissed Series by 221b_hound (T to E, 184,168 w. across 46 works || Established Relationship, Ace Sherlock) – Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

Showtime, Chapter 8

Lights Out

"Aaaand done!"

Liza stepped back from the speakers, grinning proudly. She and Bun watched as she flicked the switch. Treasure Cove erupted in sound. "Yar har har! Welcome crew, to Captain Bun's Treasure Cove! Load your token in and let the adventure begin!" She chuckled at the recorded voice lines, watching Bun grin.

It was the second night of Liza's new project. After she finished cleaning up the office with Bun's help, she had set to work. "Okay, stripped wires are fixed..." Liza said, checking that off her list as she turned it off. She grunted when her scarf fell in her face- she hated this scarf, it always came undone too easily. "I'll have to stop by the hardware store to see if I can find some better rope." She finished redoing her scarf to make a grabby motion. "Hand me that broom, will ya?"

Bun handed over the broom. "What are ye gonna do, lass?"

"Sweep! It's really dusty in here." True to her word, Liza started sweeping. "I mean, does the cleaning crew even clean? This whole place looks..." She looked around, trying to find a word that wasn't insulting to the animatronics.

"Nothing like how it used to?" She nodded. The depressed tone was back in Bun. "Aye, I know what you mean lass." The rabbit sat on a nearby box. "I remember how it used to be. Children would come, laughing and playing. They would win tokens while enjoying their food and listening to the Captain and Kitpup. It was bright and it was beautiful."

Liza had stopped sweeping. "I wish I could remember it."

"Ye don't?"

She shook her head. "The first thing I remember...is waking up in the hospital. The doctors told me I have retrograde amnesia." She didn't notice Doll wince.

"Wha?"

"Memory loss caused by an injury. They told me I was in a really bad accident- they had to sew parts of my brain back into my head and replace part of my skull with this fake skull stuff. There was also a bit of a brain bleed..." Liza made a face at the dust pile she had made. "Seriously, have they never cleaned here-?"

The lights went out.

"The ovens!" Kitty yelled from the kitchen.

"NOT US! I don't think..." Liza grumbled, trying to stumble out of Treasure Trove. She heard Bun move before a fake fur-covered hand wrapped around her wrist. If she focused, she could feel the metal under it. She made a conscious effort to not focus on that. Bun led her down the hallway, opening a door.

Her eyes had adjusted enough to see Kitty pulling what looked like a pizza out of an oven that was still glowing. Liza looked around, wondering if she would hear the lullaby...she shook her head. No. Because of Puppet, Ted couldn't hunt her down.

"-the generators."

She blinked at Kitty's voice. "What? Sorry, just trying to get my bearings." Liza attempted a sheepish grin before something plastic was stuffed in her hand. She turned on the flashlight, making sure to shine it on the floor.

"I need you to turn the generators back on," Kitty repeated slowly as if talking to a small child. She gestured to the pizzas. "Bun will help me with this." The rabbit nodded.

The generators, right. "Those would be..." Liza asked with a tiny wince. "Where exactly?" Something niggled at her brain, saying You know this.

"Oh, sorry! They're on the south side of the building. You can get to them by leaving the back way I think? We're not allowed outside, and I really don't want to upset Ted more than he already is." Kitty winced, matching her own.

Was this a trap?

It felt like a trap.

"...so I can leave? It's okay?"

"Yep!" Kitty chirped, turning to her ovens as Liza headed out of the kitchen. "As long as you come back." Liza paled at the tone, speeding up. "Be careful!" she heard before the kitchen doors shut. She sounded friendly, so she decided to leave that alone.

Liza opened and closed the door behind her, humming the lullaby absentmindedly. The flashlight bobbed in front of her as she walked. She turned the corner, training the light on the wall. She could see that the light outside was still on, so there must've been another circuit box for outside lighting. But why just the front?

Something clicked.

She froze, feeling Doll's fingers clench on her shoulders.

There was nothing but silence as she stood there. The crescent moon shone down on her while crickets chirped. She could see fireflies dancing around. While the flashlight was helpful, it just cast shadows and shapes of the thin forest sitting on the edge of the back parking lot. Nothing but underbrush and trees.

There was another noise and Liza ran.

By the time she stumbled across the fenced area, her feet hurt and any other noise was drowned out by the blood rush in her ears. The door was open. Annoyance washed out the fear when Liza realized why she lost power so fast.

There was a gauge.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Liza said to it as she started poking. Sure, it could save a few pennies, but it also seriously messed with the restaurant's electricity. She could remember Rafael raging whenever he found something like this on his latest repair project. She ended up wedging the flashlight in her shoulder to stick her arm half under the generator, but she flipped a switch. She was awarded a crunch of machinery as it rumbled to life. She unlatched the timer, examining it in curiosity. She ended up sticking it in her pocket- it looked homemade. She was honestly curious about why it was made and how it worked.

She headed up to the side door, intent on saving time. She regretted it when she heard another noise. It sounded closer this time. She paused in the doorway, taking a breath and turning to the night's darkness. "Hello?" She called out, wincing at her volume as Doll gripped her shoulders tight. "Is...there someone there?"

"Who are you talking to?"

Liza let out a shriek, swinging out. Rex dodged easily, grabbing her collar and hauling her into the safety of the restaurant in one smooth motion. His brow raised as she peered outside. After a minute of silence, she straightened. "Did you hear something outside?" she asked.

"Other than you sulking around? Not a thing."

"I wasn't sulking around, I was turning the power on." she snapped. "You're welcome."

"I didn't ask you to turn on the power, Elizabeth," Rex said. She glared at him, but the motion was half-hearted. "You seem jumpy."

There was a testy "I'm fine." Liza stuck her hands in her pockets for something to do with her hands. She probably needed to take another pill soon- her thoughts veered off when her hand brushed against something. "Actually, one more question." She pulled out the gauge, showing it to the dog. "This look familiar?"

"Uh...no. What is it?" Rex was telling the truth- he sounded confused.

"It's a gauge," Liza said, sticking it back in her pocket. "It cuts off the power to whatever it's hooked onto. It was set up to run from midnight to 6." She started walking to the kitchen, intent on telling Kitty she could use the oven again.

The dog followed, staring at her with narrowed eyes. "That's why this place runs out of power at night? Ted said it was because the pizzeria needed to save money."

Liza shook her head. "What it does is seriously mess with the restaurant's electricity and make us miserable."

"It wastes money," Doll said with a nod. "I remember...someone telling the construction company to not do something like that."

"Yeah, exactly!"

Rex let out some type of hiss. "Kitty's gonna have a fit. She hates not being able to bake. You should tell Ted."

She screeched to a stop. "W-What?"

"He's the boss. He should know somebody's been rigging stuff around here." She felt sweat roll down as she tried to give some excuse so she didn't have to talk to the animatronic who would take any excuse he had to stuff her... "Are you scared?"

Liza felt her hackles rise. "No! Look, I'll tell him tomorrow. I wanna take a look at this, see what I can find out!" She said when a frown appeared on Rex's face. "It looks homemade, so someone went to the trouble of making this!"

"Oh, you're scared."

"I am not! Look, I'm not trying to keep stuff from him-"

"What makes you think I won't tell him? In fact, I'll bet he'll be even more annoyed when I had to tell him."

Liza opened her mouth. She stopped when she recognized the tone. She sighed, staring at the ceiling and mentally wondering why me? "What do you want?" There was a chuckle and Rex nodded in a gesture that said: "Follow me."

She followed him, stiffening when they entered the dining hall. There was no sign of Ted, which made her relax. The dog made a beeline for Kitty's guitar, sitting on-stage and waiting for its owner. "You sound pretty competent with electronic stuff, right? At least, you didn't screw up with the generator. I guess you can't be too useless."

"Geez, thanks," Liza said with a roll of her eyes. She stopped when she took in the clearly broken lavender guitar. "What did Kitty do?"

"It wasn't her, it was some clueless cleaner." Rex held it out. "Tech doesn't work on us, so she can't get it fixed. You fix it and I won't tattle to Ted." Liza took it, considering the damage. Both age and the incident had caused clear damage.

"Deal."

"Good girl."

Liza rolled her eyes. She ignored the sarcasm to instead focus on the bigger issue. "Seriously, they don't work on you at all?" Rex winced, giving her his answer.

She only had the tools she could scrounge up. Rex was was surprisingly helpful, running to get the tools she needed. His clear desire to help his twin was a little refreshing. Liza couldn't help but wonder why the twins didn't act like this. The guitar was oversized for Kitty, meaning she didn't need any fine tools. Doll draped herself over Rex as they watched her in the working groove.

Half the issue was some pressure points where the guitar had been smashed. She would need to find a new casing. But, she told Rex, if Kitty was careful and didn't put too much pressure on certain areas, it would hold up. He nodded eagerly and she couldn't resist a smile at the cuteness.

"Kitty really needs to clean this more," she said when she took a rag to the inside. Much like when she swept Treasure Trove, she made a face at the dust she pulled out.

"She does!"

"The inside."

His ears flattened against his head. "Oh."

"But if nobody's working on you, I guess you guys won't know how to take care of your instruments." Tio Rafael was going to throw a fit six ways from Sunday when she told him. "I'll leave Kitty with some cleaning stuff. Tell her that if she keeps the dust out of here, it'll last longer!"

"Okay!"

Finally, she sighed. "Done!" Rex took it, batting Doll out of his lap, and played a few notes. Liza let out a weary smile at the noise, stretching in her spot. She froze when she heard music coming from down the hall.

"What are you still doing here?"

Liza scrambled to her feet when she saw Ted glaring at her. "I don't, it's only-" Exhaustion made her trip over her tongue. She glanced at the clock and paled, suddenly much more awake. "It's seven?!"

"Go on and get!"

"I'm going, I'm-" She fell with a grunt. Sitting up, Liza glanced behind her.

"Well?" The bear demanded.

"I'm stuck," she said, a little too calmly for the present situation. Ted took a look. The edge of her scarf had started to get loose and had gotten stuck under a floorboard that had been sticking up for ages. Liza stood and grabbed her scarf to try and yank it free.

"Just take off the scarf!"

"No!"

"Maybe you should just-" Rex said, moving to help her.

A tad bit of hysteria struck her. "I said NO!" she screamed, giving one hard yank.

Several things followed.

There was a very loud RIP! She staggered back at the sudden freedom, her foot catching on the end of the stage. There were several cries of "LIZA!" when she fell. She groaned when her shock cleared, looking up.

Ted stared back. Then his eyes moved up and she realized that her head was bared. Liza scrambled out of the bridal carry, falling on her butt with a grunt. She snatched her scarf off the stage where it must've fallen and wrapped it, a little too tight, around her scars. All the animatronics were staring at her. "I'm going," she said finally, pushing past Ted to disappear into the office. She came out a minute later with her stuff and disappeared into the early morning.

"She's not too bad nowadays," Rex said, handing Kitty her guitar. She squealed quietly. "I mean, she really was influenced by-"

"Not a word," he said. Rex shrugged as Ted stalked out of the room. He ignored the little girl that replaced his reflection.

"Blaming yourself for what happened to Elijah will not make the past heal." Of course, he would wander by here. The Puppet was still working at the crossword, considering the boxes. Instead of the calavera paint their creator had carefully done, it had a face full of tears and a red chin. "We need to get to work. Your twin has already warmed up to her."

"Would've preferred someone else, anybody else. Instead, you chose another night guard." Ted looked around the office. The kids' pictures were dulled with age. He chose to stare at one in particular. "You chose her."

"Time is running out."

"Hasn't she suffered enough?"

"We needed someone."

Ted nodded at the awful truth, turning to take his place on-stage. The Puppet huffed, disappearing into the box.

On the wall, a picture of a girl in yellow, standing next to her bear, stood staring.

[cocochannel00]

Harry with kids #2 Never home (part 1)

kids: Connor (17), Rebecca (15), Grayson and Riley (13), Victoria (10), Casey (5) 

Let me know if you guys want a part 2! Also p.s I doubt Harry would ever neglect his family like this

"Mom we're home!" yelled Connor, your 17-year-old son, who had just gotten back from football practice.

"You think you could wash my uniform tonight? I've got a game tomorrow and it's starting to smell." Rebecca, your 15-year-old daughter, asked as she threw her soccer bag on the floor and pulled it out.

"You do know that the washing machine doesn't have a passcode on it and you don't need to be 18 or older to use it right, Becca." You say sarcastically.

"Fine I'll do it" she grumbles and starts reading the detergent boxes as you laugh at how clueless she looks.

While you were helping her set it up the twins, Grayson and Riley, ran off the bus and into the kitchen looking for food.

"Boys there are no snacks until you finish your homework and besides we're leaving to go see Connor's game in a couple of hours and you can eat there" you explain as your second youngest child, Victoria, who's 10, came grumbling into the house with her recorder in hand.

"What's wrong baby?" You ask as you picked her up from the ground and sit her on the stool.

"Dad never showed up to my concert at school today and he promised he would," she said on the verge of tears.

"I'm sure daddy feels very sorry that he missed it but you know daddy is really busy with the new album," you tell her as you hugged her tight.

"I wouldn't bank on dad's promises Vicca. He isn’t known to keep very them well" Connor explains grumbling as he walks in with his football padding.

"CONNOR!" You yell as you see tears come down Vicca's face.

"What mom you know it's true.... He's promised to come to my games and he hasn't shown up to one and it's the state championship tonight." Connor says while grabbing a water and heading out the door.

"Hopefully he manages to make it this time," you say with a bit of hope that your husband Harry will get his act together.

Afterward, you text Harry and tell him that he better make it to Connor's game and that Vicca was crying cause he didn't go to her concert. He texts back saying he'll be there but you are still skeptical that he will show up.

"We're leaving in a half hour for the game and I expect everyone to be ready to go!" You yell from the kitchen as you lay your head down on the cool countertop in order to try and relive the headache forming from the stress of having all your kids upset.

You go upstairs and walk into your youngest child's room. There you find your 5-year-old daughter Casey coloring a picture of what looks like a family.

"Look mommy, I drew a picture of our family. I'm gonna give it to daddy when he comes home" she says excitedly as she holds up the paper.

"It looks beautiful Casey now let's get you changed into your jersey," you say as you find Connor's jersey number sticking out of a pile of her clothes.

Once everyone was ready you head out with all your kids hoping that Harry would make it.

You all cheer loudly as the buzzer rings signaling the end of the game. You could not be more proud that your son had helped his team win a state title.

You and your kids ran to the field to go congratulate Connor on his win. As soon as he saw you guys he ran up to you and gave you the biggest hug that made your heart melt.

"I am so proud of you Connor you have no idea. I love you so much!" You say forcing yourself not to cry.

He chuckled a bit. "Thanks mom I love you too" he said.

Casey starts pulling on his pants and signaling for him to pick her up. Connor puts her on his shoulders and starts running around.

You being the mom that you take a picture of the two from the back as Casey's jersey had Connor's number on it.

"Dad never made it did he?" Connor asks you as you try and stop Grayson and Riley from beating each other up.

"I'm sorry baby he didn't come but I'm sure he is excited that you won" you state trying to bring the mood up again.

"Figures...." Mumbled Connor just quietly enough for only you to hear.

"Well let's go, I think I've had enough disappointment for one day" Becca says as she carries Casey to the car.

"I'll meet you guys at home, Josh is having a party at his house to celebrate and I'm going to swing by for a bit," he says.

"Please be safe and try to remember curfew this time," you say before kissing his cheek and walking to the car.

The ride home was silent and you could feel the tension build as you pulled into the driveway and Harry's car was there.

Everyone got out and as soon as Becca opened the door Casey launched herself towards Harry as the rest of your kids headed to go watch tv in the living room.

"Hi baby how are you today," he says to Casey as she giggles in his grasp.

You walk towards the medicine cabinet and grab the Advil from the shelf.

"What's wrong babe? Stressful day today" he asked while looking at you from across the room.

"Sure you could say that" you grumbled as you sat on a stool slightly mad at Harry.

"Casey go with Grayson and Riley and show them your picture," you told her as she ran out to go find them in the living room.

"Y/n, what wrong?" Harry asks as he comes behind you and wraps his arm around you. You shrug his arms off of you and walk to the otherwise of the counter.

"Do you know how upset Vicca came home today because her dad didn't go see her concert today, or how mad Becca was yesterday because you missed her soccer game because of album promo. Let's not even start on the look of disappointment Connor had when I told him you never made it Harry. He won states, Harry, states" you rant to him as anger started to boil in you.

"I'm sorry I missed all of that but you know how hard I’ve worked on this album. You know I have to work with the schedule Jeff gives me" he said trying to gain sympathy from you.

" I get that Harry but you can't keep blowing off your kids like this. It's not even this week, it's every week H! When was the last time you went to see one of Connor's games? When did you last talk about soccer recruitment with Becca? When was the last time you came home and had dinner with your kids Harry! That's my problem" you tell him.

"Don't you think I want to be here for all of that Y/n!" He yells at you. "I'm trying but it's not that easy to make my schedule revolve around games and dinners and every other thing that happens in this house!" He exclaims.

You look at him and hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over because of his statements.

"Maybe you should just leave if this family involves to much commitment. Correct me if I'm wrong but that's what you signed up for when you had 6 kids Harry" you say as you walk into the living room.

You hear Harry calling your name as you send your kids up to bed.

Casey runs up to Harry and hands him her drawing. Harry gives her a hug and asks her why not everyone was smiling.

"That's cause they are not happy because you broke your promise to them. Goodnight daddy!" she says as she runs back up the stairs.

You turn your back to Harry, afraid that if you look at him you'll break down.

Just then Connor walks into the living room. "Hey mom Josh gave me some cookies if you want-" he stops mid-sentence as he sees Harry.

"Your late for curfew Connor," Harry tells him while looking at his watch.

"Yeah well, I was celebrating my state title not like you would know since you've never come to a game" Connor replies back.

Harry began to get frustrated. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it but I'm very proud of you however that still doesn't excuse you for being late," Harry says as he tries to calm down.

"You don't get to discipline me because you're never here. Mom basically raised us on her own while you were off touring the world." He yells back through gritted teeth and clenched fists.

"I will not have you speak to me that way Connor Robin Styles," Harry says as he gets up in front of Connor.

"I'll say what I want because you are never home, therefore, have no power over me. You're a horrible father" Connor spits out.

"Boys tone it down you'll wake the rest of them up," you say trying to prevent a full-on screaming match.

"Not now Y/n," Harry says angrily.

"Don't talk to mom like that she's done nothing wrong. Your lucky you still have her cause if I was her I would leave your sorry ass in a heartbeat" Connor shouts back.

"Stop fighting!" Becca yells. "Dad you have no right to yell at us because you haven't raised us," she says from the bottom of the stairs while Vicca rushes down the stairs and hugs you as she cries.

"Are you and daddy going to get a divorce?" Vicca asks as Grayson and Riley come down with Casey in their arms.

You look at Harry as your own eyes starting to water. "No ones getting a divorce don't worry," Harry says quietly as he looks straight at you.

Casey runs into his arms as she has no idea what's happening.

You sniffle. "Alright guys it's over let's all head up to bed. Connor, can you please bring Casey up to her room when you go?" You ask and he nods.

"Ok come here and I'll give you a kiss before you go" you say as you give each child a kiss on the forehead before pulling Connor aside and giving him a hug.

"I'm so very proud of you and no matter what happens we will all always be proud of you. You have grown up well. Thank you" you tell him as he pulls you in for a tighter hug and you feel his tears on your shoulder.

"Thank you mama" he whispers before taking Casey upstairs with him.

"Y/n....." Harry says at a loss for words.

"H just drop it I think we've had enough arguments today. I'm going to bed" you say as you walk up the stairs to your room, leaving Harry alone.

You do your nightly routine and wipe away your tears as you get ready for bed but as soon as you get into bed you realized you forgot your phone downstairs.

You walk down and see Harry hunched over on the couch crying. It breaks your heart to see him like this no matter what happened in the last half hour. You walk over and sit next to him and slowly wrap your arms around him.

He grabs you and sits you down on his lap as he cries into your shoulder. "Shh... it's okay. You'll be okay" you whisper repeatedly in order to calm him down.

He sniffles a bit "Maybe they're right Y/n, maybe your better off without me" he says glumly.

You grab his chin and forced him to look you in the eye. "Harry Edward Styles I don't ever want to hear you say that ever again. I love you so much and could never live without. Please don't say that" you cry as he hugs you tighter and rubs your back.

"I'm sorry I've put you through this for so long Y/n and I'm sorry for being a horrible father to our children. They are the most important things in the world to me and I can't even raise them" he says.

"You're a great father H their just upset that you keep promising things you can't keep. You know they love you as much as I do right?" You ask as he looks at the drawing Casey drew.

"I guess but I don't know how to make up for all the times I've screwed up. Connor's games are over, the concert was today.... I don't know what to do" he says burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

"You can start by make breakfast in the morning. Then apologizing to Connor for tonight and go watch Becca's soccer game tomorrow. Tomorrow night we can have pizza for dinner and have Vicca and the twins give their own concert. If you give Casey a hug I'm sure she'll forgive you on the spot" you tell him as he chuckles at the last one.

"Ok, but how do I make it up to you?" He says looking up at you in a way that makes your heart clench.

You smile. "Make our kids happy and come to bed with me so we can get some sleep," you say as you begin to get up.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you" he asks while holding you close.

"Every day of the week, now come on" you tell him as he gives you a passionate kiss before you have the chance to move.

"Well, I love you so much Y/n. I don't know what I'd do without you" Harry said kissing you again.

You got into bed and cuddled up to Harry hoping to forget the argument for the night.

[roseonhissleeve]

Have A Little Faith: Chapter Twenty

“Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life.” - Anne Roiphe

content warning: mentions of domestic abuse

“Rachel?”

I spun around and my eyes immediately began searching for Harry. I located him within seconds—he was smiling and chatting with Gemma, both of them perfectly content. My heart was beating out of my chest, hands sweating. I could feel drips of sweat roll down my back as well, and I had to close my eyes to stop the world from spinning around me.

“Rachel, are you there?”

I shuddered slightly at the voice, my hands shaking and chills running down my spine in the worst way possible.

“What do you want?” I whispered softly, unable to utter his name. My gaze was still attached to Harry as I stood perfectly still, trying not to call attention to myself. I didn’t want anybody thinking that I was a freak.

“I…fuck, Rachel, I…I can’t…” I heard a small sob come from the other end of the line, which caused my eyes to wide as I tugged at a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of my braid. There was something wrong…something was definitely wrong, and despite my best judgment, despite everything that he’d done to me, a little part of me was worried. 

“What’s going on?” I murmured, turning my back to Harry as I lowered my gaze to the ground. I knew that if he saw my face in the state it was in, he’d know something was wrong instantly.

There was a long pause, and I turned around once again to look at Harry who was now dancing with one of the older ladies. I thought I recognized her from the bakery. The silence on the other line continued, and all I could hear was Elijah’s breathing.

“Eli, what the hell is happening?”

I heard another soft sob, and what I heard next quite possibly broke my heart into bits.

“My…Rachel…fuck, Rachel, my mom…she’s dead.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Rachel, my mother….”

She’s dead.

She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead.

I replayed the words in my head over again, but they didn’t make sense. Even though I knew it was coming, it still didn’t make sense, and I suddenly was overcome with a wave of guilt for detaching myself so much from my reality back home. I could feel the blood pounding in my head as the feeling in my limbs slowly disappeared—I was suddenly quite unaware of the presence of the hundred-or-so people surrounding me. I was in my own world, trapped again.

“Rachel?” I heard Elijah’s voice choke out over the phone, causing me to lose my footing a little in my heels. I caught myself before I had the chance to fall over, but I was definitely drawing some attention from the other guests. There were some whisperings around me, and I quickly walked over to an unoccupied corner of the backyard.

“What…what happened?” I exhaled, nibbling on my lower lip gently as I fiddled with the fabric of my dress. I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Tears began forming behind my lids, and I clenched my jaw in an attempt to prevent a meltdown right then and there.

“She w-was just sleeping, fuck, she was sleeping and I left for the evening…I was so tired…she was sleeping and she died and I wasn’t even there.” He wept on the other line, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as I held my hand clamped in a fist. I bounced up and down on my heels before beginning to pace back and forth, doing anything and everything to not lose it.

There was a small part of me that yearned to reach out to him and hug him. That small, tiny fraction of me that used to mourn for the man that he was when I fell in love with him—the more forgiving side of me, the me that always tried to see him for the good things he was. My first instinct was to tell him that it was okay, but that instinct was buried deep. I was no longer that woman.

She died alone.

“Pam?”

“Yes, honey?”

I lowered my gaze to the knitting needles that were in my hands and the deep blue yarn that rested on my lap. A few days ago I decided that she needed a hobby, something to learn, so I asked Elijah to go out and buy us some pairs of needles and yarn. We were both absolutely horrid at it—the scarves that we were attempting to make looked like they had been through a paper shredder, but it kept us busy and amused. We spent more time laughing about our inability to knit than on the knitting itself.

“Do…Do you ever get scared?”

I looked up at her after I spoke, my hands falling still in my lap. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were slightly crinkled. For a split second I could see hints of Elijah in her features.

“I’d be lying to you if I said that I wasn’t scared shitless every day.”

My eyes widened and  the corners of my lips tilted upwards at the sound of profanity leaving this sweet older lady’s lips. It was perhaps the first time I’d heard her say anything worse than “oh, shucks,” and it made me giggle a little bit. Her eyes lit up as she chuckled a bit to herself before continuing.

“Of course I’m scared…but these are the cards that I’ve been dealt. And I can either give up, or I can accept them and be at peace.” She explained, a serene smile on her features.

I thought for a long moment.

“What would you have done differently?” I continued, completely in awe of her words. “If you could have another chance, if you knew that this would be it…would you have done anything different?”

I watched as she smiled, her fingers adding another stitch to her (kind-of) scarf as she pondered the question.

“I want to say no, because I really do think that everything happens for a reason. Everything that I’ve done in my life has made me what I am…but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have regrets. I think that I would have done a lot of things differently with Elijah, with his father.”

“He’s never told me about his father.” I commented, my interest in the conversation peaking. A part of me felt like we maybe shouldn’t be talking about it without Elijah around, but I also knew that I would never get it out of him.

“His father…” She sighed lightly, closing her eyes at the memories that were running through her thoughts. “Rachel, when people face hardships in life, they either grow stronger because of it or they choose to give into the worst part of themselves. Elijah’s father…well, he was the latter. But despite it all, Elijah adored him…I never understood that, how he could love someone who abused him so deeply…but I realized that I was doing the exact same thing. Loving someone who didn’t deserve it in the slightest, and harming myself in the process. So I picked up my things and I took Elijah and I left.”

My eyes widened momentarily as the weight of what Pam had said sunk in.

“I left when Elijah was about ten. I should have left sooner…his father passed away about a year after. Drunk himself to death. And every single day since I left him, I’ve wished that I would have left sooner…but a part of me still loved him, despite it all…and that’s okay, Rachel. It’s okay because there was a reason I fell in love with him, and that doesn’t make me naïve or stupid or clueless. Do you understand?”

It suddenly realized that she wasn’t only talking about herself anymore.

“Have you thought about what I said the other day? About leaving?”

“No, ma’am.” I lied, eyes attached to the material between my fingertips as I attempted to free a knot in my knitting that I’d unwillingly formed minutes before.

“Rachel.” She repeated, and I looked up from my task to look in her eyes. They were serious and solemn, and it brought a chill to my bones. “This isn’t all there is. You know that, right? These four walls…this is my reality. Not yours.”

My jaw clenched as I looked deep into her eyes, and it felt like she could practically see every corner of my mind.

“I can’t leave you here, Pam.” I argued.

“Of course you can!” She disagreed, setting her knitting down as she furrowed her brows. “Promise me, Rachel. Promise me you’re not going to wait until I’m in the ground to leave, to see what else is out there. Because if you do that, he’ll always need you…he’s always going to need you. And if you don’t leave now, you’re never going to let yourself go.”

“What kind of person would I be if I left when the two of you need me the most?” I admitted, my voice weak.

“You’re a kind person, love…” her lips wobbled a little as she spoke, but she continued with a strong tone. “But in being kind to my son you’re being very, very cruel to yourself. And you deserve your own kindness more than anyone else. Certainly more than he does.”

“Rachel?”

I swallowed thickly, lifting my hand up to my mouth to cover my trembling lower lip. Harry was bound to know by now that I had wandered away, and I needed to keep it together.

“I’m here,” I croaked. “What do you want from me?”

“Look…I’m—I’m not asking you to come back, your mom told me that you aren’t coming back, I know that…but her funeral’s in a couple of days and…fuck, Rachel, she loved you…She loved you so much, when you left…” I heard him struggle to keep his composure over the other end of the phone, and it caused a pang in my chest. “Well, she would’ve wanted you to be here.”

My lids fell shut as he spoke, and the words left my lips before I even had the chance to think about them.

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay…” I heard him sniffle, his voice struggling to keep it together.

I hung up the phone without another word and exhaled an audible sigh, and I took a breath before spinning around to look back at the party that was taking place. I shoved my phone into my clutch in a clumsy manner and brought my hands up to my eyes, wiping away at the tears.

I had to leave.

But first, I had to talk to Harry.

I walked back to the more occupied area of the backyard, my eyes scanning all the people. A few of them flashed me a smile which I was way too distracted to reciprocate. I quickly located him standing by our seats, and it only took a few moments for him to make eye contact. I could tell that he had been looking for me, and there was a shift in his face when he saw my own expression.

It took everything inside of me not to fall apart right there and then.

He crossed the dance floor faster than I’d ever seen—he was in front of me within the span of ten seconds, and his hands immediately found their place in mine.

“What’s wrong?”

My face crumpled a little bit at the sound of his voice, so caring and understanding.

“Do you remember when you told me that…that we could leave the wedding whenever I needed? That we could just g-go?” I struggled to keep my composure, and he could tell; he took another step towards me so that there was less distance between us, so that he could act as a barrier between me and everyone else. So that nobody else could see the tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Let’s go.” He said simply. He slipped his coat jacket off his shoulders and draped it over my own. It was something I desperately needed; I immediately slipped my arms into the large sleeves and wrapped myself up in the garment, inhaling his scent. It made me feel safer, and I followed his movements as he guided me towards the house and back up to his room, his hand securely in mine the entire time.

The moment we entered his bedroom I walked over and took a seat on the edge of his bed, and I watched as he shut the door behind him and locked it. He turned around, his eyes softening with care as he laid eyes on me. He closed the distance between us in a total of three steps and immediately knelt in front of me, his hands on my knees as his brows furrowed with concern.

“Baby…talk to me.” He murmured, reaching to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“I just…I need a minute, please, I need a minute to think and figure everything out, please just give me a minute.” I rambled, lowering my gaze from his features to the ground. I couldn’t think while looking into his big worried green eyes, I really couldn’t.

“Okay…Okay, love. Take as long as you need.” He reassured, standing up off of his knees to press a kiss against the top of my head.

I could feel all my walls slowly building back up again.

But then again, had I really ever tore them down? The past several days with Harry had been magic—but they’d also been a fantasy. We were tucked away in a fantasy and the real world was out there waiting for me; this was merely a reality check.

“I need to leave.” I whispered, standing up off the bed and taking a few steps away.

“What…Where’re you going?” He asked hesitantly, and I could sense the fear in his voice. The last time I said I needed to leave, I said goodbye to him and we thought we’d never see each other.

“I need to go back home, I need to go soon. I need to be back, something happened, I can’t explain but I need to go now.” I sobbed the last word, blinking away tears as I shook my hands up and down in front of my frame, an attempt to rid myself of the trembling of my fingertips.

“Ro, what’s going on? Are your sisters okay, is everybody okay?”

“I can’t tell you, Harry, it’s too—”

“Don’t.” he argued, standing up and walking around me, planting himself in front of me once more. “No. You’re not pushing me away again, Rosie, I’m not letting you.”

“Harry please, I can’t—”

“You’re my team mate, Rosie.” He interrupted, bringing his hands up to my cheeks softly so he could bring my gaze back up to his. I saw the warmth in them, the kindness and empathy, and I exhaled a delicate sigh. “I…you know, the past couple of days I’ve been struggling to think about what to call you. What we are, and I mean, I didn’t think we really needed a label. I always thought that we were kind of beyond them, kind of...undefinable? But today when people were asking me if we were dating or if you’re my girlfriend, I had no clue what to say. Girlfriend sounds so…casual. Ordinary.  Anyone can have a girlfriend…you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that, Ro.”

“Harry—”

“Ask me what being team mates means.” He insisted, and I could see his eyes pleading me to hang on for just a little while longer.

“What does being team mates mean?” I whispered shakily, finding that I felt a bit more grounded the longer I looked in his eyes.

“It means that we do it together,” he explained, “whatever it is, we do it and we go through it together. It means that whatever happens to you, happens to me as well. It means that when you’re about to fall apart, I step up and catch you. And the other way around. It means that we have each other, no matter what. It means that I trust you and you trust me, and God, Rosie, it means that you don’t have to do it all alone anymore…it means that we don’t run. Please, don’t run from me…”

His words resonated in my head long after he finished speaking, and the tears were still forming behind my lids.

I looked in his eyes, and I could tell that he meant every single word he spoke.

I felt a wave of serenity wash through me, and suddenly I felt every muscle in my body relax. With every passing moment that he looked at me, I believed him. I believed it all…and I didn’t know how, but for the first time in a long time, I believed that I was worth it.

You don’t have to do this alone anymore.

“I…I have to tell you something.” I whispered, exhaling shakily. There was still a corner of my mind that was shouting no, that was yelling and screaming at me to stop. Telling me that he won’t feel the same, that he wouldn’t understand.

But finally, the braver part of me was winning.

“I have to tell you something and I don’t know how you’ll take it.” I explained. He nodded his head slowly, his mind obviously searching for possible explanations to what I could be hiding.

“I…Well, I had…fuck.” I muttered to myself, turning around and taking a few steps before angrily kicking off my heels that I’d been wearing the past few hours. I inhaled softly and tried to form a sentence, but I was struggling to form an explanation.

“S’okay, baby,” he reassured, his voice calm and patient, “take all the time you need.”

I nodded my head, my back still turned to him.

“Have you tried saying it out loud?”

I fiddled with the hem of my sweater as I sat in the large office chair. I was frustrated, angry and exhausted…but most of all, I was just sad.

The woman who was sitting in front of me had kind eyes. They were big and blue. Serene, like the ocean after a stormy day. She had short hair, only about four inches long, and it hugged her features and made her look like a fairy. She was pale—her lips were delicate and perfectly designed for smiling.

“Rachel? Have you tried vocalizing it?”

“Vocalizing what?” I asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.

It was my third session with her. The first two sessions had been spent entirely in silence.

I felt guilty about it. My parents were paying good money for me to be able to see Dr. King, and I didn’t want to waste her time, but there was nothing I had to say. I was here because my little sister asked me to come to therapy, and that’s it.

“Whatever’s bothering you…the reason you’re sitting here.” She explained, her voice soft.

“I’m here because my parents told me to come here.” I stated stubbornly.

“Why did they ask you to come?” She continued to prod, setting her notebook on her desk. She leaned forward slightly, resting her hands atop of her lap.

“Because they’re parents.” I retorted angrily, my eyes looking everywhere except for her face.

There was a long pause, and her voice was stern when she spoke next.

“You can leave, then.”

I glanced at the time, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Don’t we still have another twenty minutes?”

“Well, Rachel, if you’re not willing to put in the work, I’m not sure why we’re wasting our time.” She stated plainly, leaning back in her chair as her eyes scanned my features.

“What does that mean?” I argued, my defenses at an all-time high. “That makes no sense. What, you meet with someone two times and then what? You realize that they’re too broken for you to fix so you toss them aside? What kind of doctor are you?”

“Do you think you’re broken?” She replied, tilting her head to the side as her eyes softened once again.

I exhaled a soft huff, lowering my gaze to the ground as I realized what she was doing. If I wasn’t already so constantly riled up I wouldn’t have been dumb enough to fall for it.

“I…I don’t know,” I admitted, sitting down in my chair again as my gaze attached to the book that rested at the corner of her desk.

“Here’s the deal, Rachel,” she began. “Therapy can be a bitch. It’s not a vacation, it’s not necessarily fun to do—it can be draining, it’s emotional, it’s not pretty all the time, and at least fifty percent of the time it’s hell. I didn’t get into this profession because I think it’s thrilling. Therapy and recovery after trauma like yours might be one of the hardest things that you will ever have to go through—you will have to relive parts of your life that you would rather forget about, and you’re going to have to ask yourself questions that you’d rather not know the answer to.”

“Wow, do you do your own marketing?”

“But,” she continued, ignoring my snarky reply, “there’s a reason why people do it. I’m not promising instant results, and I’m not saying that it’ll come easy. But if you stick with me, and if you have a little faith in yourself, you’ll be glad you came. But you have to put in the work, Rachel, because nothing worth doing ever came easy.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to make guarantees.” I bantered once again, jaw clenched tightly.

She looked at me for a long moment and I thought she was going to kick me out again.

“How’s this for a guarantee? We’re going to go through hell and back together, you and me. You will feel pain and sadness and loss. But I swear to you that at the end, you will rise like a phoenix from the ashes.”

I stared at her for a long time, lips pursed and fists clenched. My mind was racing—she’d definitely managed to shut me up, and earned some of my trust in some weird way. I exhaled a sigh, leaning back in my chair, my words unsteady and barely audible.

I could feel my lower lip quivering softly, and I closed my eyes…I was so tired of being angry.

“My fiancée would beat me every night when he got home from work.”

“A few years ago, I met a guy.” I began, taking a seat at the edge of Harry’s bed. “I was…I guess you could say I was a hopeless romantic when I was in high school. I was a late bloomer so I’d never had a boyfriend, and I was waiting for a long time for something…swoon-worthy, I guess, to happen to me. So when Elijah walked into my life, well, I fell head over heels. Hard.”

“He did all these huge gestures for me.” I continued, replaying the memories in my head. I felt Harry come closer to me and take a seat beside me, but I refused to look at his features—I knew that if I did, I would lose it. “He would bring huge bouquets of flowers to my locker during breaks, he would always kiss me right there in the hallways. At the time I thought it was romantic, but now I know that it was really just his way of being possessive. Showing that I belonged to him. He was the golden boy—he was student council president, he drove a motorcycle, he was never alone because he had friends all over the school. And when he picked me of all people…well, I thought that made me special.”

“He took me out to expensive dinners but refused to let me meet his parents. He bought me expensive jewelry but never wanted to listen to my favorite songs,” I mused, my voice surprisingly steady, “And one day he offered me the diamond ring…the one I’d always dreamed about. My parents both told me that they didn’t approve, and I think even my sisters hated him. But with him I thought I was special, and the within the next couple of months I moved in with him, several hours away from home.”

“The first couple of weeks it was a dream,” I admitted, lowering my head in shame, “he brought me flowers every day when he got back home from work, and we had his friends over for dinner every week…but eventually the flowers stopped coming.”

“About two months in…” I began, pursing my lips softly. This was the hard part. “He came home from work one day and was absolutely torn. Heartbroken. He…his mother was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. There was no hope, really. That…I want to say that night changed him, but maybe it really just brought out the side of him that I had yet to see.”

“Rosie…” Harry murmured, his voice soft.

“At first he only hit me on his bad days.” I continued, swallowing thickly as I clenched my fists a bit. I closed my eyes, my lower lip trembling.

But my voice was surprisingly steady.

“He would come home from a visit to the doctor with his mom, or a particularly irritating day at his work, and he would just…I would slip up. I’d accidentally drop a plate or I would forget to make sure that there was enough alcohol for him in the house, and he would…”

That’s where my limit was. I hiccupped a little sob, more involuntary than anything, and I felt Harry’s hand at my back. I looked up at him and as soon as I did I saw that there were tears forming in his eyes as well.

“I thought that it was my fault,” I choked, holding my hands up to my chest as I continued, “I thought that if I tried harder to keep him happy, that maybe he’d be better. I told myself that he was going through a tough time, that he was losing his mom, and that it would be selfish of me to not forgive him because he was going through hell. So I forgave him…fuck, I forgave him over and over again…and I let him beat me and hit me and use me, almost every single night…”

“I was hollow.” I concluded, sniffling as I looked up into Harry’s eyes. “I numbed myself, and god, Harry, I was so alone…he took me away from my family, he didn’t let me out of the house for days on end. Eventually people stopped looking for me, they stopped checking in, and I lost all of my friends…I was lost. I was so, so lost, and every single day while he was at work I would just lay on the ground, because his bed felt too disgusting, I would lay on the ground and I would ask myself over and over again how it got that bad, how I ended up there. And I still don’t know, Harry, I still don’t know.”

“Come’ere.” He whispered softly, opening his arms.

I crawled into his embrace quickly, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. My face burrowed into his shoulder as I choked out all the sobs that I’d held back. My limbs were all shaking, and the tears were streaming down my cheeks steadily, staining Harry’s dress shirt.

But he was there.

His arms wound around me tightly, tighter than they ever had before. I was still wearing his suit jacket, so I was quite literally enveloped in his warmth—I could feel his lips at my head, pressing kisses over and over again to my temple. He ran one of his hands up and down the length of my back soothingly, repeating the motion until it caused a wave of peace to rush through my body. I sunk into his embrace.

“I’m right here…you’re here with me. You’re with me now, my love.” he repeated, the depth of his voice resonating in my belly and bringing me warmth. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go…I’ll never hurt you…Shh, it’s okay. You’re so beautiful…it’s okay, angel…”

I didn’t know how long we sat there like that. It could have been hours—eventually I fell silent, my face still hidden in Harry’s shoulder and his arms still wound around me. He continued whispering sweet nothings into my ear and he never complained, he never even attempted to break the embrace. I could feel his body shake under me with anger, but I knew that none of it was directed towards me.

He was there, and I knew he meant it when he said he wasn’t letting go.

He was my team mate.

“Are you still with me, beautiful?” He murmured after a little while, his lips at my hair.

“Mmm.” I sighed, tightening my hold around him a little bit. After a few seconds I exhaled a sigh and unwound my arms from his neck, only enough to pull away so that I could look at his features.

When I looked into his eyes, there was no pity—there was only understanding, compassion, and something else that I couldn’t quite put a name to.

“Thank you.” He whispered, lifting his hands to tuck my loose strands of hair behind my ears. He pressed his palms to either side of my face, cupping my cheeks as he brushed his thumbs across the area under my eyes, wiping away any tears that were left.

“For wh-what?” I sniffled, palms resting on his shoulders as I blinked a couple of times to get rid of the stinging sensation leftover from all the crying.

“For letting me in.” He explained. “For trusting me. It can’t have been easy.”

And that’s when I knew.

That’s when I knew that I was completely, undeniably in love.

“Rosie, why are you leaving?” He spoke hesitantly.

“Oh,” I exhaled, closing my eyes, “I…Elijah’s mother died. Pam. And I know how that sounds, I really do, but she’s the reason I left, Harry. She was the only person I had, the whole time. She’s the reason I left…I think…I think she understood what I was going through more than anybody else. She saved me.” I explained, my eyes tearing up once again as I thought about her. I brought my own hands to Harry’s face, settling them on either of his cheeks. “Harry…if it wasn’t for her, I think I would still be there, with him. I…I think I quite literally owe her my life.”

I watched as he furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

“Okay…but I would like to go with you,” he said, tilting his head to the side slightly, “if you’ll let me. If it’s okay with you…”

“Harry…are you sure? You just got back home,” I stated, brows furrowing, “this is my problem, you don’t have to—”

“Oi…what did I say?” He replied, offering me a small smile as he playfully tugged on my braid. I caused a smile to form on my lips, a genuine one, and I leaned in to press a tender kiss against his cheek before replying.

“We’re teammates.”

“That’s my girl.”

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[thegizka]

Growing Into It (fic)

Shikamaru experiments with facial hair, but not everyone is a fan.

Written for Shikamaru Week 2019 Day 2:  Growth

Read it on Ao3.

“Whoa.”  Ino stopped in the doorway, pure surprise on her face.  “What’s with your face?”

Typical Ino.  She didn’t pull any punches.

“What do you mean, what’s with my face?  It’s the same as it always is.”

“You’re saying you usually look like the wrong end of a raccoon?”

“Ha ha,” he laughed without mirth.

“I think he looks fine,” Chouji said, pushing past their startled teammate.

“No offense Chouji, but you’re not exactly what I’d call a fashion icon.”

“You said my goatee looks great!”

“A little bit of facial hair goes a long way.  Besides, you have the right face shape for it.  Shikamaru’s is too thin for a beard.”

“You’re just overreacting because it took you by surprise,” Shikamaru grumbled.  He really didn’t care whether Ino approved of his beard or not, but he knew she was determined to voice her opinion whether he cared or not.

“It’s weird,” she returned matter-of-factly.  “Temari, you agree, right?”

Shikamaru’s fiancée had just entered the room, drawn by the sound of their friends arriving.

“Are we talking about his face?  Yeah, it’s weird.”  She shot Shikamaru a devious smirk.  She knew she was only adding fuel to Ino’s fire, but she was always ready to see him get roasted.  He just rolled his eyes in return.

“See?  Temari agrees with me.  It’s ugly.”

“Just because something’s weird doesn’t mean it’s ugly.  I mean, look at Sai.”

“Hey!”  She bristled.  “At least Sai has the common sense not to grow dumb facial hair!”

“Be nice,” Temari chided, smacking the back of his head.

“Wait, why am I being yelled at?  I was saying Sai’s not ugly.”

“But you did say he was weird.”  Ino was glaring at him with the full force of her fury, which seemed incredibly unfair considering she had called her husband weird on several occasions.

“Come on, Ino.  You know Shikamaru didn’t mean anything mean by it.”  Chouji smiled at her appeasingly, always ready to try and smooth over an uncomfortable situation.  It was a shame he had such stubborn teammates whose conversations usually included an argument of some sort.

“He does have a habit of saying dumb things,” Temari added, giving her fiancé a pointed look.  He wasn’t getting out of this situation unscathed.  Why were the women in his life so troublesome?

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely sincere enough to not sound rude.  “I like Sai.  He’s a great guy.  And he’s not as weird as he used to be.”

She continued glaring at him.  Was it a half-hearted apology?  Perhaps, but it was truthful.  They had spent years complaining at each other and working on the same team, so much so that they knew exactly how each other thought.  Of course Ino understood that he didn’t really mean to throw shade at her husband, and he knew she wasn’t actually that offended.  Arguing was simply a habit, the language of two siblings who simultaneously drove each other crazy and were fiercely protective of each other.

Eventually she rolled her eyes and let it go.  “Temari, since you’re the sensible one in this relationship, shall we get to work planning your wedding, since that’s what I was invited over here to do?”

“Sounds wonderful.  Where do you want to start?”

Shikamaru gave Chouji a helpless glance as they took seats around the table, Ino dumping binders and folders of papers and ideas in front of them.  Having recently gotten married herself, she was full of suggestions and insights to help them arrange their big day.  When Shikamaru and Temari had finally decided to get married, neither had been particularly interested in all of the details of the ceremony and reception, but as the reality of their decision and commitment to each other set in, Temari had gotten really invested.  Ino was eager to help her work out the details, which was a relief to both of them as Shikamaru rarely had any strong opinions on the matter.  He liked to invite Chouji to these planning meetings to help provide some relief from the women’s intensity.

As usually happened, the men stuck around for the first half hour or so, contributing a few opinions or simply their token approval before finding a reason to drift away and let the women work out the particulars.  Today they ended up out on the porch, sprawled across the steps sharing some of Chouji’s snacks.

“So the beard,” Shikamaru began.  “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“I think it looks fine.  Maybe a little sparse in parts, but you just started growing it, right?  I’m sure it’ll fill out in a few more weeks.”

He grunted, absentmindedly scratching his cheek.  It was kind of weird to find hair where he had once shaved, but he didn’t mind not having to get out his razor in the mornings.  It meant more time he could spend lying in bed mentally preparing for the day.

“Are you growing a beard because Asuma had one?”

Chouji’s question was a little unexpected while at the same time exactly what he had expected.  Sometimes his best friend could see right to the root of things faster than he could think through them.  Shikamaru shrugged, letting out a long breath and leaning back on his elbows.  They sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of their sensei’s memory sit with them.

“That might be part of it.  But I guess I also wanted to feel...older?  I dunno.  All of our friends are getting married, and now so am I, but sometimes it feels like we only just graduated from the academy.  I know I still have a lot to learn and figure out, but there are also people looking to me to teach them and offer advice.  It’s just weird.”

“I think it’s always going to be like that, though.”  Chouji munched on a potato chip before offering his friend the bag.  “I mean, there will always be things that we’ll have to learn, right?  And really, we are still pretty young.  But that just means we still have people we can ask for advice, and then pass that on to the people who ask us.  It’s the Will of Fire, right?”

“Yeah.”  Shikamaru let the silence stretch again.  Logically he understood exactly what Chouji was saying, but he still felt strangely stuck between youth and maturity.  Was he really old enough to get married?  Of course he was committed to Temari and determined to spend the rest of his life with her, but some days it felt like he could barely take care of himself.  Was he ready to be responsible for her happiness, too?

“Your dad had a goatee, too.”

He glanced at Chouji, but his friend seemed focused on the clouds and his snacks.  They had never said much about Shikaku’s death.  The war hadn’t offered much of a chance to process the loss, leaving Shikamaru hollow and aching as he found himself navigating his daily routine without the familiar presence of his father.  Suddenly he was the head of his clan, responsible for their medical research, the forest with its deer, and the general well-being of his extended family, to say nothing of his duties in the Hokage’s office.  He hadn’t realized the extent of his father’s responsibilities until they crashed down upon his shoulders.  There was an emptiness where Shikaku had once been, and somehow he was supposed to fill it.  It was another thing making him feel too young and too old at the same time.

“I bet you’d look alright with one,” Chouji continued, gently pulling Shikamaru up from the depths of his thoughts.  “Plus we’d kind of match!”

“It’s an idea.  Pass me another chip, will you?”

“Look at them, out here stuffing their faces while we’ve been working hard.  Weddings don’t plan themselves, you know!”

He dropped his head back, giving him an upside down view of Ino and Temari standing in the doorway pretending to be annoyed.

“You could have called us if you needed us.”

“Well we’re done for today, so I’m heading home.”  Ino brushed her long hair back over her shoulder in a semi-dismissive gesture.

“I suppose I’d better get home, too.”  Chouji stood, and with a sigh, the final member of Team Ten followed suit.  “See you later, Shikamaru.  Bye, Temari.”

They exchanged goodbyes, Ino throwing in a last pointed comment at her friend’s beard as she went.  He couldn’t stop a smile from quirking his lips after he closed the door behind her.  They hadn’t outgrown their bickering, and at this point, he wasn’t sure they ever would.

“So, what did you decide today?” he asked Temari, settling onto the couch beside her.

“Well, we mostly talked about flowers-”

“Didn’t you talk about flowers last time?”

She shot him a you’re-absolutely-clueless look with her sharp teal eyes.  “Those were flowers for the ceremony.  Today we discussed flowers for the reception.”

“We need more flowers?  Are you sure this isn’t just a plot for Ino to generate more business?”

“Do you want to hear what we decided or not?” she demanded.  He held up his hands in surrender and allowed her to proceed unhindered.  He cared less about what she actually said than how she looked recounting the plans.  She tried to hide it, but she was actually really excited about their wedding, and he loved watching her joy shining through her usually controlled expressions.  It was so genuine that his heart swelled with love, and he couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her cheek.

“Oh!” she jerked away from him with a surprised gasp.

“What?” he asked, suddenly on alert.  But the next moment she was laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled.  “It’s your beard!  I’m not used to it yet.  It caught me by surprise.”  She cupped his face and kissed him through a few residual giggles.  When she pulled away, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“It is a little weird,” she stressed, giggling again.  He rolled his eyes before pulling her back to him.

The next time Ino stopped by to discuss the wedding, several weeks had passed.  Shikamaru’s beard had started filling out, but after staring longer than he’d like to admit in the mirror, he saw what she had meant about it looking weird.  He also remembered Chouji’s subtle suggestion of the goatee.

When Ino saw him, she froze in the doorway, but she couldn’t summon any words to ridicule him this time.  He knew what she was thinking.  He had been struck by the similarity, too.  He definitely looked younger and didn’t bear the same battle scars, but he was undoubtedly Shikaku’s son.  He had nearly shaved the goatee because of it, feeling the weight of his father’s legacy, but he also was that legacy.  He was carrying Shikaku’s lessons and responsibilities forward while making them his own.

He saw these thoughts pass through Ino’s mind.  She knew what it meant to carry a father’s legacy.  She met his eyes and smiled.  “Much better.”

“Whatever.”

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Nightmare Logic

Sometimes stories need you to skip over some of the show and just tell - to keep the pace, to maintain the focus, etc..  A good story finds a balance that knows when to do which, and using show don't tell as a catchall axiom about writing has always kinda bugged me for that reason. 

That said, so much of the tell about Leader!Sam straight up contradicts what they're actually showing in the episode.  In addition to loving Mary Sues, Dabb has what feels to me like some weird, out-of-place fetish for making Sam a leader since this is the second time he's pulled a team of nameless nobodies out of his ass to make it happen.  Here one of his writers is inflicting the same type of shoddy storytelling that we've seen previously with Wayward and Mary and see currently ongoing with Maggie (from pointy end? to Everybody Loves Maggie onward to leader! in ten. freakin'. episodes. FFS.) on Sam to do it.   Actually show us characters being good at something or building them up realistically?  Not important in Dabb's cheap imitation Supernatural, arbitrary declarations that contradict what the plots have actually happen are perfectly acceptable here!

It's as if the writers think that they can just attribute a few technological innovations to Sam, have him be in charge, and wham-bam awesome leader status achieved!  Him actively compromising his ability to function and refusing to use the resources he has is admirable leadership because …?  He could be training some of these AU people to be new MoL and having them help him with the organizational and research side of things, but instead the writers have him just treating them as his personal hunter army to order around.  It's fucking weird – both that he would do that and that the AU people would go along with it.  Are Dabb and Glynn just that abysmally clueless about what being a good leader looks like?  I'm pretty sure I said this before, but it'd be one thing if we'd actually seen Sam gain these people's allegiance, or if this was going to evolve into him realizing that he's not a great leader without improvement or that he doesn't actually want to be a leader. I really don't think they're going for that though, because of how the other characters react.  

Bobby comes out aggressively about his leadership being bad.  I think it's meant to feel unwarranted, because Mary jumps right in to immediately give Sam a big pep-talk speech about how he's unreservedly doing great and was totally born to do this!  Which, even putting what the episode actually shows us of his leadership aside, would be more convincing if she wasn't already established as a terrible judge of both people and situations.  Who was it that fell directly for the BMoL's schemes and hooked up with Ketch?  Who was it that scoffed at the very idea Jack could be influenced by Lucifer?  If I didn't believe Dabb and crew to be a bunch of dumbasses who have no idea what a cold malfunctioning robot the Mary they've written is, I would think they were intentionally providing more reason to doubt Leader!Sam.  Except it is pretty clear they're generally clueless, so I'd be quite surprised if we're not supposed to see this as a valid refutation of what Bobby said.  The same way they generally substituted having Ketch tell us Mary was the most awesome hunter evar for actually showing her being all that exceptionally awesome.

Speaking of Mary, am I the only one that's starting to get the impression that the real reason they resurrected her was because they wanted to write bad, soapy romance and know the fans revolt when they do that with the guys?  I aggressively do not care about her hooking up with AU!Bobby.  And that whole scene with the projection of AU!Bobby's son beating the crap out of him and Mary?  I'd have a lot more investment – or, you know, any at all – if they'd actually written the two characters in a way to make me care about them for themselves rather than just assuming I must already do so because of their relationship - or their regular world clone's relationship - to Sam and Dean.  So lazy.

Anyway, back from that tangent, Dean I'm not surprised to see bristling at any suggestion of a slight to Sam as a knee jerk reaction.  So that's apt enough, but the part where AU!Bobby just randomly changes his mind by the end of the episode so that he, too, is telling us Sam is a good leader?  The problem is there's no basis for it in what happens in the episode, other than maybe Bobby getting knocked in the head too hard, being woozy from blood loss, and/or becoming emotionally compromised.  Compelling.  

I mean, they can have all the characters repeat it, but what actually happened?  Sam sent Maggie on a hunt that she wouldn't have been ready for if even if it wasn't a trap.  He cuts her down from the attic, which could have been done by literally any of the four of them.  He doesn't figure out what the monster is or take it down. While it's excusable that those are Dean since the episode clearly wanted us to wonder about the djinn's interaction with him in relation to Michael?  Sam doesn't even go and talk to Maggie after the fact and help her deal/calm her down, even though she and her hunt were his responsibility - Dean does that, too. Like, it doesn’t even happen onscreen, so why the hell did Sam not do that as supposed leader-guy?

So what, exactly, was here to suddenly make AU!Bobby change his mind when he was, actually, the one the episode showed to be right?  A good leader knows they can't function as well on no sleep.  A good leader delegates minor tasks like listening to check-ins and finding hunts.  A good leader accurately gauges the ability of those they lead and does not send cannon fodder like Maggie out by herself as a fighter, period – hell, a good leader would remember in SPNworld you really can't save everyone, and thus sending out any of these AU people alone is spreading themselves too thin for questionable benefit.  (Even before you add Michael!monsters to the equation, he and Dean don't hunt alone the vast majority of the time, but these randos who've only been in this world for a few months should?  At the end Sam does change that rule – but just because Michael's setting traps, which is less good leader and more minimal acceptable competence.)  A good leader deals with the fallout of his own regrettable decisions himself.  

The episode went out of its way to give replacement goldfish Bobby this sad sob story about being a leader and losing his son in the other world.  If, rather than having him take back what he originally said, he instead gave Sam some pithy advice about being a leader – like getting some sleep and learning to delegate?  Which we could then see Sam take to heart and implement going forward?  Hell, they could throw in a line about how he'd been overworking himself as a method of distraction while Dean was gone and he just hadn't had time to readjust yet and it's even more sympathetic!  That would both soften the harshness of AU!Bobby's original speech (showing the emotional through line with him the writers clearly wanted), and show Sam as being capable of learning from his mistakes and therefore perhaps growing into someone who is actually as good of a leader as Mary's mouthpiece speech tried to paint him as. 

Not even to mention that, asked by Dean how they'll deal with everything? Sam says he'll just work harder, he'll basically stop sleeping altogether!  A good leader would realize that, aside from emergencies, the answer is not to be incompetent even harder, it's to delegate and focus his expert energies more exclusively on the big stuff no one else can do - like the whole Michael problem. If these AU!people aren't competent or trustworthy enough to be handed regular hunter tasks dealing with bog-standard hunts themselves, they really shouldn't be hunting at all.  Even if the writers have got a hard on for sleep-deprived Sam they desperately want to indulge, it's hardly like the Michael problem isn't sufficient to justify that without having him also waiting up all hours for calls from unnamed Bozo #5 checking in from a hunt because apparently no one else can do that.

In short, the writers seem to go out of their way to show Sam making terrible choices for someone who is a real leader (rather than just the guy haphazardly in charge) and compound it by having Sam seem to take away exactly the opposite of the lesson that would actually make him a good leader, yet I don't really get the impression we're meant to see that.  Instead, this episode just gets to the end and has the only one other than Sam himself to voice any real question about his leadership just parrot along with the chorus that Sam is a good leader - regardless of basically everything they actually showed us Sam saying and doing or, more aptly, not doing.  Thanks, I hate it.  

I did think the monster story in this episode was done decently well, I'll give it that.  In contrast to last week, I think it set up an interesting mystery around it and had a fairly satisfying follow-through.  Well, mostly, insomuch as I'm going to like any of the Michael's rule-breaking monsters stories  (I'm going to imagine somebody ran into town for some lamb's blood while the djinn was incapacitated.)  Basically, with the Sam story so incoherent and the cringey romance bullshit with Mary/Bobby – so far as I'm concerned, all the actually enjoyable parts of the episode went to Dean. Sussing out who and what the monster was, the confrontation with it and the callback to the Michael story, and also the rather nice interlude conversation with the daughter of the old man who owns the property.  (I'm pretty sure when Sam fans wanted Sam to bond with more side characters, it wasn't in the sense of a faceless mass of cardboard nobodies and listening to Mary whine about her love life while Dean still got the characters with actual personalities.)  

[danielleelesterr]

Survival of the Fittest Part 1

Hi! This is my very first time posting one of my phanfics. I never wanted to because I was too frightened, but I finally built up the courage! This is something I once wrote at 5 am on a school night and I have no idea if it’s any good, but I enjoyed writing it. So thank you for reading and let me know if you’d like for me to post part 2!

Word Count: 3.2k

Trigger Warnings: Sexual Content, Suicidal mentions, Prostitution, Swearing, Violence

Summary: Daniel Howell is all alone in the world and has to sell his body to survive. Philip Lester is rich and can't seem to make up his mind.

"Disgusting," a middle aged woman mumbled as Dan strutted past her. He made sure to twist his hips more than usual and to ignore her venomous glare. This wasn't unusual. In fact, Dan was used to this by now. Having people call him out or bluntly insult him for his 'job'. It wasn't like Dan wanted to live on the streets and sell his body in order to survive at all. But they didn't care. They never would and they'd never be able to understand. They had families and jobs to give them a reason to live. Dan never bothered any one else, but everyone always bothered him. At first, it had drove Dan to the edge of insanity and he hated himself. But now, he realized that they were in the wrong just as much as he was and should just brush off their hateful comments. Besides, he needed the money. Dan never graduated high school and with his record, he'd never be able to have a normal life. He could never just drop prostitution and try to succeed in the real world no matter how hard he wanted to. He saw himself as unworthy and worthless. That this was what he deserved and that he'd never be able to find anything better.

The wind fought against Dan's greasy curly hair as he walked to the end of the alleyway. Dan didn't have a certain location he needed to be and didn't have any specific objective for the night. He never did. He drifted from shady neighborhood to shady neighborhood, hoping he wouldn't be caught. There was also always the fear of someone from high school wanting to buy him for the night or recognizing him as they drove past. Hopefully, no one ever would. His life was already embarrassing enough and he could handle the occasional insult thrown at him, but being targeted by someone he knew would be too much for him. The sound of Dan's large black heels began to echo and grow louder as he neared the end of the street corner.

This should be good enough. He thought to himself as he came to a sudden halt and leaned against the street lamp. Even though he had been wearing heels consistently for about 8 years, they still hurt like hell. However, they really screamed 'prostitute' for men driving by for some reason. Days when he wore them he seemed to get more business compared to the days that he didn't.

Dan reached into his purse and pulled out his portable blush compact to perfect his appearance. He opened it and brought it up to his face. Eyebrows recently plucked, grey eye shadow still in tact, eyeliner still making a grand cat eye, blush still rosy, and red lipstick hadn't smeared yet. He was in good shape and was ready for the long night to begin. Each day got easier for him, but it also got more difficult. Dan hated every moment of being handled by a stranger in ways that strangers shouldn't handle you. But Dan was brave and good at what he did. So therefore, why should he stop if it was bringing in the money he needed for food and clothing?

Dan glanced one last time at his reflection and attempted to make his hair look presentable when he noticed a black Mercedes approaching him.

Typical.

The car rolled by to his side and rolled down the passenger seat window. Dan sighed before pulling on his signature smirk and preparing to win whoever this was over.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Dan asked smoothly as he bent down to lean inside and peer at the man. However, when Dan made eye contact with this man, he nearly lost his ability to act. He was incredible and took Dan's breath away. Raven black hair that went up into a high quiff on the top of his head and deep ocean blue eyes that had traces of yellow and green in them. Dan had seen thousands, maybe even millions, of men before, but none of them even came close to the one set in the drivers seat across from him.

"Uh," He paused to awkwardly cough. "Yes, please."

Please? Please.

No one had asked Dan for his services as politely and quietly as this man was. Nobody really even asked. They drove up, demanded Dan get into the car, drive off till they find a place they deem safe enough, have meaningless sex, pay Dan, and drop him off. That's how it always went.

"Hmmm," Dan looked Phil up and down. "Just for you, I'll give you a discount for 65 pound," Dan winked and leaned further into the window, allowing his butt to be prominent to Phil.

"Yeah, of course, thanks," He said all in one breath and Dan had barely anytime to process his words. "Is it okay if we-um-go to a hotel?"

Dan had had a couple of customers who wanted to try and dignify their reasons for buying a hooker. Dan liked it when opportunities like this arose, and even though he was losing money, it was less men he had to please.

"Sure, anything you want, Daddy," Dan threw in the last word just to see how the other man would take it. He watched as he flinched at the name and swallowed thickly. Dan knew he was an amateur to this and it was obvious he had no clue as to what he was doing. He was probably just lonely and needed to interact with someone. Dan gave him a seductive grin and batted his eyelashes before opening the car door and slipping into the passenger seat.

The ride to the hotel was silent and the tension in the air was ridiculously high. Once they had finally reached their destination, Phil jumped out immediately after parking and waltzed over to Dan's side to open the door for him.

Was this guy insane? Was he expecting some sort of date with a hooker?

Dan nodded at the man in thanks before stepping cautiously out of the car in astonishment.

"I-uh-um-I'll get a room," He informed Dan before scurrying off to the office. Dan waited patiently while leaning against the car. What exactly was this guy expecting? Was he some sort of undercover cop? No, he would've arrested Dan the moment he entered the car. Was he just a clueless virgin who finally gave up searching for the right one? No, that'd be impossible with how gorgeous he is.

Dan thought and thought until the man returned by Dan's side, key now held firmly in his hand. Dan nearly jumped out of his skin when the man took his hand and interlocked their fingers. Nobody had never held Dan's hand while on the clock unless it was to keep Dan from squirming during sex. As the man directed Dan to the correct room, Dan couldn't help but stare at their hands intertwined and grin. This guy was not only sexy, he knew how to treat a man. It was really cute and amazing to Dan. He wished he could get this type of physical affection more often, especially from this beautiful man.

Once they reached the door, the man opened it and walked in with Dan in towe. Once they were fully in, he closed the door and lead Dan to the bed, never breaking the grip he had on Dan's hand. His skin was warm against Dan's and made his heart beat speed up to a rapid pace.

"I'm Phil."

Dan's eyes widened in pure shock. There had only been a hand full of people who had actually given Dan their real name. When Dan didn't respond, Phil spoke up at an attempt to clear up the confusion.

"What's your name?" He asked, his voice soothing.

"Dan," Dan responded, almost sounding dumbly because of how awestruck he was by Phil.

"You're really gorgeous, Dan."

Dan felt his cheeks flush red as he shyly looked down at the ground. No one called him that. Ever. Why did this guy have to be so nice and completely catch Dan off guard?

"Thank you. I could say the same about you," Dan flirted, leaning in closer to Phil. "What do you want me to do to you?"

Phil stared at him as if he had just just given him an hundred step algebra equation. "Oh-um-I-You could-I dont know-give me head?"

Phil looked almost ashamed and could no longer meet Dan's eyes.

"Just lay back and relax and I'll give you a special treat," Dan cringed at himself and reluctantly released his grip on Phil's hand. Phil nodded and complied by doing exactly what Dan had instructed him to do. Or at least tried, his chest was still heaving. Dan went to the end of Phil's feet before crawling up his body slowly. He softly pressed his lips to Phil's and instantly was put into a trance. His lips were so perfect and fit perfectly with Dan's even when they were slightly quivering. Dan wanted to make Phil feel at ease and needed foreplay to warm him up. Dan pecked Phil's lips a couple of times to allow him to adjust before sliding his tongue against Phil's bottom lip. Phil quickly opened his mouth and granted Dan access. Dan and Phil's tongues met and swirled in perfect rhythm together. Dan felt himself growing underneath of his black skirt and knew Phil had to be doing the same inside of his jeans. Dan pulled away and Phil let out a groan at the loss of contact.

"Have you done this before?" Dan questioned, a smirk hinting at the corners of his lips as he began to unbutton Phil's shirt. Phil paused for a moment before shaking his head no. So Phil was a clueless virgin who had given up on finding the right one. This only made Dan want to pleasure this gorgeous man even more. Once Dan had fully taken off Phil's shirt, he admired his bare beauty. Phil looked insecure and acted as if he wanted to cover himself from Dan's lurking eyes. This made guilt rise up in the pit of Dan's stomach and he learned down to Phil's ear to whisper something to make him feel better.

"You're perfect. I love your body." When Dan pulled away for a brief moment just to gauge Phil's reaction, Phil was as red as a tomato. A sudden wave of courage washed over Dan as he realized how much power he had over this man. He leaned down to give Phil one last kiss before trailing his lips down the center of his chest to his stomach to his happy trail. Phil arched his hips and was begging to be touched. Dan grinned widely in triumph before helping Phil discard his jeans and boxers. Dan felt himself salivate when Phil's huge hard leaking cock popped up and slammed against his stomach. Dan generally despised participating in sexual acts with strangers, but this man was perfect in every way. How could Dan not enjoy himself?

Dan wrapped his hand firmly around Phil's cock and Phil hissed in response.

"Fuck," He muttered as Dan begun to slowly stroke him.

"Mmm, Daddy, you're already so hard for me," Instead of flinching at the nickname, his cock twitched eagerly in Dan's hand. Dan pumped him a few more times and licked up the pre-cum leaking out from Phil's tip, but getting into a better position and attaching his mouth to Phil.

"Ah!" Phil groaned once Dan had taken every inch of Phil into his mouth and he was now pressed against the back of Dan's throat. Dan was very skilled at deep throating with the amount of practice he had had, but Phil was huge. Taking his cock this far brought tears to Dan's eyes, but that didn't stop him. He begun working wonders on Phil's cock, making Phil thrust upwards craving more. Dan had to press down firmly onto Phil's hips in order to steady him and to take his cock at a better angle. Dan hallowed out his cheeks and worked his trained mouth to the best of his ability.

"Oh-my-god! How are you so good at this?"

Dan chuckled, the vibrations going right through Phil and making him let out a sudden moan. Dan pulled off of Phil, making a loud popping sound. "I can't help myself. I love taking your massive cock in my mouth."

"Oh fuck," Phil murmured out as Dan reattached his mouth to Phil's dick. Dan quickened his pace from before, each time Phil's tip pounded against the back of Dan's throat. Dan never choked once though. "I'm going to-" Phil trailed off, not even able to finish his sentence before he was shooting his sticky white liquid inside of Dan's mouth. Dan grinned and continued to move to help Phil finish off his orgasm before swallowing every last drop.

"That was... amazing. Thank you."

Dan pulled off of Phil's cock and smirked when he realized Phil was still half hard and that he wasn't going flaccid anytime soon.

"Do you want to put your huge cock inside of me, Daddy?" Dan purred, his words once again going directly to Phil's cock.

"I-I-I," Phil tried to form a sentence, still trying to come down from probably the high of his lifetime.

"Shh, it's okay, I know what you want," Dan turned himself around and lifted up his skirt to fully expose his behind to Phil. Dan knew Phil's eyes would immediately look at the shiny red jewel buttplug. "I'm already stretched for you, see Daddy, I know."

"I-," Phil tried to speak, but got distracted when Dan let out a small groan as he pulled out the buttplug and reached down to stroke Phil a couple of times. Phil released small moans as leftover cum spurred out of his growing cock. Dan angled himself up with Phil's dick and caught Phil off guard when he begun to lower himself. One moment Dan was being stretched by Phil's amazing cock, the next he was being shoved off of the bed.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Phil shouted loudly. "I can't lose it to someone like you."

Dan felt his heart shatter and fall from his ribs to the very bottom of his stomach. Dan should've figured that Phil had been pretending that Dan was his date and that they were making love. Dan felt like he had fucked up everything and that he shouldn't have failed to please Phil.

"I thought this was what you wanted."

"Yeah, well so did I until it actually started happening."

"Was I bad?" Dan felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He had never once left a customer feeling disappointed, they had all been pleased by his skill.

"What? No? Course not!" Phil exclaimed. "I just can't have sex with you! Hard to tell what shit you have!"

Dan felt so tiny and disgusted with himself, he wanted to throw up.

"I don't, I promise!" He cried.

"God, this is absolutely sick! What the fuck am I doing picking up a cross-dressing whore?"

"I'm not a whore!"

"Yeah right, you'd have to be to do this for a living. You let strangers do whatever they want to you and I bet you like it!"

"No! Stop!"

"You're a fucking dirty whore, just admit it to yourself already!"

"No, please, stop!"

"I can't believe myself for doing this! You can't even admit to yourself how much you like being a cockslut!

Dan broke down at that. Something deep inside of him had finally snapped in two. Tears immediately fell from his big brown eyes. He didn't want to do this-god how he didn't want to do this! How he wished he had choices of his own and a life worth living. All those times stranger's hands had wondered down his body and touched him wherever they pleased. They way Dan had let them and then got paid afterwards. Phil was right. Dan was a whore and nothing but it. But he didn't want to be. He didn't want to accept that he was a whore either. He hadn't even thought about what exactly he was until now.

"You asshole!" Dan stuttered through tears. "You come pick me up and take up my money-earning time and I give you a pretty decent first blowjob! And this is how you treat me?

"Oh! Excuse me for taking up the sweet time you need to get pounded in the ass! And how you expect me to treat a hooker? You were basically begging to suck my cock anyway!" Each one of Phil's words really got underneath of Dan's skin and triggered something deep inside of him.

"I don't want to, okay? You already proved your fucking point! I get I'm a whore!" Dan tried to yell louder than Phil, but his voice gave out on him and cracked mid sentence.

Phil seemed to soften at this and pulled up his boxers before standing up to sit beside Dan. Dan was a mess. He was sobbing so hard, his body was beginning to rock back and forth on its own accord. His legs were pulled tightly to his chest as he cried into his knees. Phil was terrified and didn't know what to do.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I was just angry," Phil tried, but failed horribly. Phil didn't even think Dan could hear him as he begun to unravel. "Hey, it's okay! I'm sorry!" Phil begun to cry too, bewildered by Dan's unsteady breaths and constant whimpering.

"I don't want to!" Dan repeated himself, making guilt punch Phil directly in the face.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry. Please calm down," Phil tried a different approach by pulling Dan out of his defensive position and placing his head gently into Phil's lap. Dan gripped tightly onto Phil's bare leg and scrunched his body up. "Shhh, it's okay. I've got you," Phil begun to rub Dan's back in a comforting manner and was glad to see Dan was slowly, but surely, relaxing.

"I don't want to," Dan mumbled out one last time before his vision went black and he passed out in Phil's lap.

[nctverse]

Unrequitted

sorry that this isnt all that great, i decided to challenge myself by rewriting an old fic of mine from years ago when i say awful,, i mean AWFUL and this was the turn out. i did have much to work with bct the plot is so fucking awful HHHH why was i such an awful writer,, the old fic was supposed to be angst but i just laughed when i read it bc its so CRINGY

the original is still up on tumblr on an old blog i used to own good luck trying to find it i mean if anyone really wants me to i can put a link to it but its really awful. also it was originally written as a BTS fic hhhh

genre; angst

pairing; taeyong x reader x jaehyun

After a long day of work you approach your front door , taking out your old rusty house key and reluctantly slide it into the small key hole. Taking a deep breath you turned the knob, stepping inside the spacious house that your husband and you shared. Your mother swore that placing you in an arranged marriage would greatly increase your business relations but you strongly disagree, in fact you wager to say that it ruined it, because now you were stuck, loving a man who will never love you back.

"I'm home." You sighed knowing his next 6 words, everyday it's the same, it never changes. "I'm going out with the boys." Your husband Taeyong said, ignoring you. You refused to look his way as he walked right passed you towards the door, stiffly brushing past your shoulder causing you to drop a bag onto the ground. Just like that, he slipped out of the cracks of your fingers just like water once again. His cold and distant demeanor where a constant cycle for the better part of two years. But even though his actions spanned the test of time, every day you hoped to somehow make a break through the thick ice, although it proved to be futile.

You dragged your feet up to the old rusty mirror that hung in the main hallway feeling the tears as the seemingly scorched as skin as they traveled down your cheeks, staring at your rough appearance. Your hair was severely disheveled while your makeup melted off of your exhausted features and the dark circles from your lack of sleep was merely the cherry on top of a failed cake. It was pathetic , you were pathetic. Thoughts clouded you mind warping your actions as you drug your fist up your body only smash it against the mirror as an attempt to rid the thoughts. The tears streamed faster down your cheeks as if they were racing to the finish line which was the floor beneath you. Your fist drug downward against the shattered mirror slicing your hand and knocking the sharp shards all around you as you returned your fist to your side. Blood trickled down your fingers and dropped onto the ground as you stood motionless.

The star speckled sky was a dark, endless abyss that you dreamed of getting lost in. You longed to feel something, anything that wasn't negative, yet you felt nothing. You rolled over onto your stomach, momentarily breaking free of the self deprecating thoughts, grabbing your phone and opening it. The bright light startled you as you squinted to see the time. 3 am. Thoughts of Taeyong were still infiltrating your mind as had yet to come home. You picked up your phone, wanting to call someone for an answer of where he maybe, searching through the contacts of the 18 boys you hold closest to your heart. You hesitated, he usually left you alone but this was the first time it had lasted this long.

Your cold finger shook as you finally chose a contact, finger resting on the name 'Jaehyun' bringing the phone up to your tear stained cheek.

"J-jaehyun." you managed.

"Oh hello y/n!" Jaehyun replied excitedly, retracting as he remembered the situation.

"Ah y/n are you okay?" You opted to just explain everything, as you knew he was clueless, his facial expression turning from worry to a burning anger and sympathy as you continued your explanation.

"Taeyong left the house about 6 hours ago saying that he was with you guys? Is he still there?" Although you tried you hardest, you couldnt help it as your voice shuddered at the end, clouded with a genuine sorrow.

"Y-Y/n, he left an hour ago." He hated to be the one to break the news but he knew deep down that he had to be the one to tell you. Every tremble of your voice and every tear that fell from you eyes shot through him like an blade, tearing him apart. Even if he couldn't see you. Why? Because he loves you.

"O-Oh." You looked down as the tears welled up once again, the endless flow almost silently streaming down.

"You know, I cant bear seeing you like this. Why do you stay with him if it only hurts." Jaehyun knew he shouldn't pry like this, but he couldn't help it after seeing you in pain again and again. He thought, 'How is it possible to long for someone that only brings you pain?' He wished he could march up to your doorstep and comfort you, to be able to hold you close and call you his. He wished he could tell you that you deserve so much better, that you deserve someone that will love you as much as you love them, someone like himself.

"Because I love him. I don't know why but I love him. I cant get him out of my mind. I-It's like i'm constantly drowning its so frustrating! but I still love him." You began to sob as you let out your rant. It broke him. Jaehyun stood stunned on the other end of the line. It was as if the weight of 10 million earths collapsed upon him, without a second of a break. Tears fell from his eyelids for the first time in a very long while. He was at a complete loss. He knew he needed to see you. He dropped the phone as he hung up, bursting through the front door of his home heading straight to you. He slipped past the people on the busy streets, running as fast as he could.

You clutched the phone tighter as you failed to hear a response before the call ended. Why did it pain you so much to know that he just hung up on you? without a word? Why did it pull at your heart so much? Why did it feel as if you lost a piece of your heart? You thought it was impossible to love two people at once but fate keeps proving you wrong time and time again. Your mind's rambling was interrupting by the sharp sound of the doorbell, followed by an impatient series of knocks. You stood up making you way to the door, merely expecting to finally greet your husband. You hand rested on the handle, preparing to face his cold nature with a deep breath before you swung open the door. You realized you prepared for nothing as you felt the strong, comforting embrace of none other than jung jaehyun. You head rested against his chest, feeling the intense heartbeat, setting off your own. Your arms finally came up to reciprocate the embrace. The comfort in his embrace elicited your hysterical sobs once more. Feeling your pain, Jaehyuns hand came up to stroke the back of your head in time with his speech.

"It's okay, i'm here." He whispered, speaking into only your ear. "I'm here, i'll always be here. You deserve so much more." He had no clue what he was saying as he began to cry with you. He wanted to yell, to be able to tell you how much he wants to save you from this cage, but he resisted, knowing your true feelings. Just as he's always done.

[durazno-dulce]

Coffee Shop

Request: “ahh i really want to see an imagine where the reader is guileless or shy and not into drinking or smoking but is still friends with the band and likes roger A LOT and tries rly hard even tho he always shows up with his groupies :/ “

A/N: okay so this request was super cute and I kind of ran with the idea but I’m not sure about the ending? It’s nearly 5 in the morning so I’m sorry if it sucks and I’m sorry for it taking a while to finish. Enjoy ! ✨

Word Count: 2.5k+

(Masterlist)

(Y/N) sat in the corner of the coffee shop, her university books flooding the table with her notebook sporadically filled with notes and botanical sketches lying in front of her. The strong scent of coffee lingered in the shop, flowers adorning the walls, and the dimly lit area was filled with soft chatter from the few people sitting within it.

She stood from her table, straightening out her blush toned dress, before she walked to the counter ordering yet another coffee to keep her focus on her studies.

Her vice, caffeine.

The thought made her giggle as her mind wandered to Freddie, whom had agreed to meet her along with the rest of the band in her favorite area.

She was unlike any of their other friends, she loathed the taste of alcohol and didn’t understand the appeal of smoking. Nonetheless, she fit into the group perfectly with her sense of humor and love of parties despite her sobriety.

As her mind lingered on the thought, the bell from the door rang capturing her attention to the group of men entering the small coffee shop. A smile adorned her lips as she walked towards the group each of them greeting her with an embrace. Her heart fluttered at the touch of the blonde drummer who’s scent invaded her nose, an enticing mix of mint and nicotine lingering.

“Darling this place quite literally mimics you,” said Freddie looking around at the place, taking in the atmosphere.

“Well, that may be why I find it so hard to stay away from here,” (Y/N) giggled out as she grabbed her coffee from the barista. She led them back to her table before slowly placing her belongings back into her bag to make room for the rest of them.

They all talked amongst themselves, John and (Y/N) we’re engaging in a conversation about her studies when she felt a set of eyes staring at her. She turned her head to see Roger giving her a small smile before turning his gaze back to Freddie as he spoke. It surely meant nothing, she thought, despite her mind trailing back to his gaze before being snapped out of it by Brian.

“So, what do you think (Y/N)?”

Her eyes went wide before a hum escaped her lips to question what Brian has just asked her about.

“Do you want to come to our little get together tonight?”

She laughed a bit at his statement; she knew each time the boys had a little “get together” it simply meant an extravagant party was awaiting.

“Um, yeah sure.” She said enthusiastically as they began to talk again, but her attention went to the blonde who’s mind looked elsewhere as he focused on the blonde barista behind the counter.

(Y/N) huffed a breath out knowing the look he was giving her wasn’t innocent, so she turned her attention back to the other boys joining in on their conversation.

~

After their meeting in the coffee shop, (Y/N) headed home to get herself ready for the party they were holding that night. She walked down the street watching the sun slowly set leaving a hue of pink lingering in the sky. When she reached her flat she put her keys in the bowl by the door and headed to her bedroom to get ready.

She looked at herself in the mirror, the soft curls that adorned her hair and her dress made her look so innocent. (Y/N) could only think this is why Roger never really paid any mind to her, despite her constant attempts, he always had a girl around his arm that looked rather risqué.

“Well, I’m quite the opposite,” she mumbled out her confidence faltering.

She sifted through the colors in her closet before her eyes fell onto a bag hidden in the back of her closet - there’s a first time for everything she thought. She slipped into the pink silky wrap dress that wrapped her curves perfectly, a slit near the leg and the neckline dropping a little low. This style was nothing like she’d ever worn before, and the only reason she had the extravagant dress was because it was gifted to her, a special gift from Freddie on her birthday. She didn’t really have an occasion to wear the dress to, that is until now.

After messing with her already formed curls, she slipped on her heels and headed to the door hailing a cab to get to her destination.

~

When (Y/N) arrived she opened the door and was immediately overwhelmed by the staggering smell of alcohol in the home. Bodies were flooding the home as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to find a familiar face anywhere in sight.

She sunk back down on the ground not finding a familiar face before she walked through the home pulling her dress down constantly; she felt rather self conscious when her eyes wandered around seeing girls in less than what she had on.

She’d finally reached the sitting room finding Freddie taking to Brian about god knows what as his body radiated such excitement.

He immediately took a double take a large smile adorning his face as he went up to her.

“You’ve finally worn it, I was starting to think you hated my present darling,” he exclaimed.

“Does it look alright,” (Y/N) questioned slightly shifting around fixing the dress.

“You look stunning in it,” said Brian giving her a cheeky smile, “but we all know why you’re wearing it.”

A blush formed on her face as it scrunched up mimicking confusion regardless of each boy knowing of her little crush, except for Roger that is.

“That boy is rather clueless,” interjected John as he made his way to the group of three.

“Uh, yeah I guess he is,” her voice low as she glances around to try and get the attention off of her.

Freddie notices her behavior and immediately takes her hand to a couch as they sat and chatted, Freddie with strong liquor in a cup and (Y/N) sipping on some ice water.

A loud booming and familiar cackle grabs her attention, she turns her head to find Roger on a loveseat surrounded by a group of girls, each wearing less than the next.

She rolls her eyes as Freddie follows her gaze opening his mouth before closing it to see (Y/N) get up.

“I think I need some air,” she says her voice straining to get the words out. (Y/N) made her way to the back door passing the drummer, his gaze followed her out. She hadn’t seen his eyes trailing behind her as she sat at a small table that was just by the door.

“Why am I such a fucking child?” She said to herself. Freddie and Brian came out to follow her moments later sitting along side of her consoling her.

“There’s no reason for me to feel like this, it’s not like I’m his bloody girlfriend. I just don’t see why he doesn’t see me like any other girl that catches his eyes.” Her voice wavered a bit but she remained strong refusing to let this ruin her night.

“You deserve some fun, it’s Rogers loss, now let’s go back in and enjoy ourselves!” Freddie screamed out the smile never leaving his face.

She knew this is exactly what she had to do, she had to have fun - even if it meant without Roger.

As they slipped back into the home (Y/N) made her way to where people were dancing, her body matched the beat of the music blaring from the speakers a smile emulating the upbeat music. She was in a trance, until a hand was on her hip dancing in tune with hers.

Her body quickly turned to find Roger, a smile on his lips as he began to speak.

“Didn’t know you’d shown up,” he said as his eyes cascaded down her body taking in the outfit she was wearing.

“You look good tonight,” he yelled over the music as his bottom lip was caught in between his teeth. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let a tinge of pink cascaded down her face, however she knew Roger was only paying attention to her because of what she was wearing.

Although the dress was for that very intention she couldn’t help but feel he was looking at her for all the wrong reasons. She slipped from his grasp before muttering a quick thank you and walked away from the group leaving a confused Roger behind her.

(Y/N) made her way towards John who was downing a drink in the kitchen talking to a group of people.

“Hey John, can I talk to you for a bit,” she whispered in his ear. He turned to face her quickly taking in her emotions and nodding as he dismissed the group of people around him.

“I-I, well you see, Roger finally came up to me but I feel like it was all wrong. His eyes never even met my face,” she whispered out moving her hands up and down her body as though to show what he was paying attention too.

“(Y/N) it’s Roger, you know how he is always chasing clueless girls who don’t want anything more than a shag. You don’t emulate any of those girls, and you were smart to walk away from him.”

A soft thank you left her lips as her eyes trailed the room finding her gaze matching Rogers as a girl danced on him.

He saw her eyes roll before telling John she was leaving for the night making her way out the door. Roger was rather confused by all his encounters with her that night; he was completely clueless not understanding why she was acting so distant as they usually kicked about everything.

He walked over to the boys now surrounding John before questioning them on your behavior in hope that their answers would give him something insightful.

“Are you really so blind?” Questioned Freddie as the others nodded in agreement with him. Rogers face just scrunched up as the tilt of his head immediately made him question what they were referring to.

“What?”

“Have you not realized that (Y/N) is practically in love with you, you won’t even give her the time of day because she’s nothing like all the broads you pick up,” huffed out John he quickly comes to realize he’s aired out all that was to stay hidden from him. The other boys give him a side glance not really knowing what to do as Rogers face contorts in a way in which Freddie knew he was planning to go look for the girl.

“Don’t, give her some time and don’t you dare tell her deacy said anything,” he muttered shooing him away with his hand.

Roger knew Freddie was right but he couldn’t help but feel guilty and all he wanted was to go speak to you. However, after him playfully flirting with other girls and (Y/N) he could understand why she wouldn’t necessarily want to see him at the moment.

~

The following morning (Y/N) made her usual stop into the coffee shop down the road from her flat to get in some studying before her exam later on that day. University was really stressing her out, but nonetheless she found herself trudging along trying to balance school and a social life.

When she made her way in she immediately made a beeline towards the counter before a hand tapped her on her shoulder. No one had ever tried to talk to her before so the look of confusion should have been expected. She turned to find Roger standing behind her, two coffees in hand and a pleading smile immediately relaxed her features.

He handed over the coffee in his hand that read her name, beautifully scripted by her regular barista, as they made their way over to her regular table. An awkward silence lingered in the air as she blew on the hot coffee avoiding the gaze of the drummer in front of her. The only sound that could be heard was the record being played and grinding coffee.

“Can I ask you something?” Roger asked in a low tone cutting the silence between the two.

“Um, yeah sure,” she muttered attempting to focus down at the cup in front of her. He grabbed her hands making her meet his piercing eyes for the first time since she’s come in.

“About last night, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he started, rambling on apologetically.

She just stared at him taking in his features trying to focus in on the words spilling out of his mouth before he began to wave a hand in front of her face.

“Did you hear any of what I just said?” He laughed out.

“Yeah, of course, and don’t worry about it,” she started, “I think I was being rather a drama queen last night.”

She began pulling out her notes and books, almost routinely spreading them onto the table. Roger watched in admiration as she started rambling on about how she had to study for a big test later on that day.

(Y/N) took a sip of her coffee before finally looking up as she set up her workload. She knew the look he was giving her, but she’d never seen it pointed in her direction and it felt rather different. He finally opened up his mouth as though to say something but quickly shut it pondering the thought he was about to spill out of his mouth.

He grabbed her hands once again surprising her and making her look into his eyes.

“Yeah, there’s a chance that I’ve fallen quite hard over you,” he blurted out as though to answer a question that was lingering in his mind.

“What?” (Y/N) whispered sinking a bit back into her seat, she was rather confused on where any of this had come from.

“I never knew what it was about this old coffee shop that I love so much,” he began, his voice dazed as he arranged his thoughts.

“All of the while I never knew it was you,” he said firm in his statement tightening his grip on her hands a sheepish smile on his face.

(Y/N)’s mind was going a mile a minute trying to comprehend what was just said to her. She scanned his face as though it would answer each question her mind was throwing at her, a genuine smile playing on his lips. Rogers smile brought comfort in her and she made a bold move by pressing her lips against his.

When she pulled away, he looked into her eyes for conformation. She gave him a smile and nodded her head, the insecurities of her naive look melted away as she knew that he was being genuine in his words.

“Deacy was right,” he said laughing.

“I could kill him,” (Y/N) said covering her face with her free hand before turning her attention back down to their holding hands smiling.

[burnedtm]

**   AFTER  MANY  QUESTIONS ,   COMMENTS ,   CONCERNS ,   ASSUMPTIONS ,   &   SALTY  ANON’S ,   I’M  GONNA  EXPLAIN  MY  JESS .   you  can  either  love  her  or  hate  her ,   i  really  don’t  care .   i  just  wanna  get  some  things  straight .   (   aka  it’s  my  turn  to  be  salty .   i’m  not  calling  out  anyone  in  particular ,   nor  am  i  mad .   i  just  want  people  to  understand .   speaking  of  which ,   if  you  have  a  problem  with  how  i  choose  to  play  her ,   that’s  okay .   it’s  chill ,   but  please  take  it  elsewhere  other  than  my  inbox  or  dash .   )

BEFORE  DEATH   :   i  haven’t  gotten  the  chance  to  write  much  of  college  jess ,   but  i  hope  to  soon .   all  we  really  have  from  canon  is  her  name ,   birthdate ,   death  date ,   &   her  halloween  costume  from  2005 .   that’s  pretty  much  it .   because  of  this ,   jess  is  essentially  an  oc .   prior  to  her  death ,   i  believe  she  was  a  happy - go - lucky  student ,   outgoing ,   &   had  an  attitude  that  went  a  long  way .   she  was  bubbly ,   friendly ,   kind ,   &   welcoming .   in  the  world  i  have  set  up  for  her ,   she  was  a  sorority  girl  who  was  on  her  way  to  becoming  a  surgeon .   for  most  of  her  life  she  wanted  to  be  a  surgeon ,   ultimately  settling  on  pediatrics  before  even  getting  the  chance  to  practice  medicine .   with  all  of  this  in  mind ,   i  kind  of  assume  she  came  from  a  good  family .   normal  parents  who  were  still  in  love ,   a  couple  siblings  she  was  close  with ,   &   money  to  go  along  with  it .

AFTER  DEATH   :   this  is  where  shit  gets  tricky .   please  remember  that  no  matter  what ,   she  is  my  character .   i  know  a  couple  people  out  there  hoped  that  she’d  be  much  like  college  jess ,   but  that  isn’t  the  direction  i  went  in .   when  i  set  out  to  write  jess  in  the  first  place ,   i  knew  she’d  come  back  with  a  darker  twist   &   would  be  a  hunter ,   primarily  because  i  miss  writing  sam   &   dean  as  hunters .   that  aside ,   what  she’s  become  in  the  last  couple  months  is  a  direction  i  was  unclear  about ,   but  a  lot  of  her  personality  is  starting  to  take  shape .   so  let’s  get  into  it .

+   choosing  hunting  over  a  normal  life .   though  she’d  spent  five  to  thirteen  years  in  heaven   &   was  cushy  upstairs ,   coming  back  was  a  jab  she  hadn’t  expected .   falling ,   picking  herself  back  up ,   &   wondering  how  the  hell  to  function  was  by  far  the  toughest  thing  to  do .   the  night  she  died  she  knew  it  was  something  otherworldly .   when  she  returned ,   as  much  as  she  wanted  to  leave  it  alone ,  she  couldn’t .   it  was  weeks  of  research ,   spending  a  lot  of  secluded  time  in  shelters  with  a  stolen  laptop .   unbeknownst  to  her ,   the  supernatural   &   hunting  were  real  things   ;   real  monsters ,   real  people ,   real  weird  deaths .   it  was  a  conclusion  that  took  her  for  a  wild  ride .   once  she  figured  out  the  reason  why  she  died ,   she  tried  to  move  on .   eventually  creating  a  fake  name   &   backstory ,   leaving  her  old  life  before  death  alone ,   getting  a  job ,   &   doing  whatever  she  could  to  feel  normal  again .   something  about  hunting  took  up  most  of  her  thoughts .   there  was  no  possible  way  she  could  be  a  surgeon  anymore .   it  wasn’t  in  the  cards  for  her   &   it  was  a  loss  she  mourned  for  quite  some  time .   sadly ,   in  all  of  her  strides  towards  normalcy ,   she  resulted  into  the  mindset  that  if  she  couldn’t  save  lives  in  a  normal  way ,   she’d  save  them  in  another  way .   it  was  a  weird  thought  process ,   but  it  ultimately  saved  her .   all  of  her  temper ,  ��anger ,   grief ,   &   recklessness  was  taken  out  of  her  system  once  she  met  up  with  other  hunters   &   learned  their  ways .   it  wasn’t  for  months  until  she  heard  the  name  winchester  again .   she  wanted  to  look  sam  up  before  but  didn’t  have  the  heart .   instead  she  made  up  a  fantasy  that  sam  was  a  lawyer  married  to  a  beautiful  woman   &   had  kids .   instead ,   after  hearing  his  name ,   she  did  google  him  only  to  dig  up  dirt   &   the  first  supernatural  book .   hearing  her  own  death  in  great  detail  was  enough  for  her  to  shut  down .   she  knew  that  she’d  come  across  them  eventually ,   but  wasn’t  in  a  hurry  to  do  so .   now ,   no  matter  who  tries  to  talk  her  out  of  the  life ,   it  all  goes  in  one  ear   &   out  the  other .   she’s  stubborn   &   hard  headed  once  she  makes  up  her  mind .   she’s  scarred  up ,   but  doesn’t  care  anymore .   her  reckless  nature  may  get  her  injured  or  possibly  killed ,   but  if  it’s  helping  save  someone ,   she  doesn’t  mind .

+   death ,   drinking ,   coldness .   she’s  hardened  out  completely  since  returning .   in  college  she  was  a  girl  who  was  easily  frightened ,   spooked  by  scary  movies ,   &   huddled  up  near  people  to  show  that  she  was  genuinely  afraid .  it  was  cute .   now  she  wonders  how  she  was  so  clueless .   it  takes  a  lot  to  get  through  her  hard  exterior .   there   are  walls  she  puts  up ,   emotions  she  ices  out ,   &   memories  she  tries  to  block  out .   the  happy  ones   &   the  bad  ones .   she  doesn’t  like  to  feel  but  will  sometimes  seek  out  ways  to  feel  just  to  make  sure  she’s  alive  still .   it’s  very ,   very  easy  for  her  to  turn  off  her  emotions   &   just  shut  down .   it  takes  next  to  nothing  for  the  walls  to  go  back  up   &   for  her  to  be  emotionally   &   mentally  armed ,   sealed  tight  with  armor .   her  drinking  helps  soothe  everything .   it  puts  her  mind  at  ease ,   relaxes  her ,   &   helps  her  block  out  everything  that  makes  her  human .   death  after  resurrection  should  probably  be  protected  at  all  costs ,   but  she  refuses  to  see  it  that  way .   death  is  almost  welcomed .   in  no  way  is  she  trying  to  die ,   but  she  knows  it’s  better  upstairs  than  it  is  here .   though  there’s  a  part  of  her  now  that  feels  tainted ,   wondering  if  heaven  is  even  an  option  next  time .

+   why  she  is  the  way  she  is .   there’s  no  telling  honestly .   when  she  returned  it  seemed  as  though  her  mind  turned  into  a  giant  clustered  mess .   there  was  resentment ,   anger ,   depression ,   &   a  million  other  things  that  were  felt  instantly .   it  killed  her  that  she  wasn’t  her  old  self ,   that  she  could  no  longer  be  the  girl  she  once  was .   life  was  different   ---   the  world  was  different .   everything  seemed  darker ,   uglier ,   more  confusing .   it’s  taken  quite  sometime  to  get  her  bearings   &   she’s  not  quite  sure  she’s  found  them  yet .   she  continues  to  have  an  attitude ,   a  fuck  it  attitude  for  the  most  part .   the  girl  is  stubborn ,   bratty ,   &   doesn’t  like  to  hear  that  what  she’s  doing  is  wrong  or  dangerous .   it’s  not  the  person  people  once  knew .   she’s  different .   the  world  has  changed   &   so  has  she .   expect  walls  being  built ,   traps ,   cinderblock   ---   literally  anything  to  keep  people  out .   smiling  doesn’t  come  often ,   but  when  it  does  its  hidden  away .   she  doesn’t  like  being  vulnerable  or  emotional .   it’s  tough  to  do   &   she’s  constantly  on  edge ,   waiting  for  the  hint  of  a  threat .   vulnerability   &   softness  does  not  come  easy .   when  she  does  show  that  side ,   it’s  because  of  trust   &   she  does  not  trust  easily .

+   the  winchester  situation .   i  feel  like  this  always  comes  up  so  here  it  is   :   she  doesn’t  care  either  way .   that  meaning  finding  the  brothers ,   seeing  them ,   being  taken  in ,   loving  them   .   .   .   none  of  it  was  necessarily  a  road  she  had  to  take .   if  it�� happens  it  happens ,   if  it  doesn’t  it  doesn’t .   when  it  comes  to  sam ,   she  wonders  if  it’s  best  to  leave  him  alone  or  not .   she  took  comfort  in  sam  long  ago   &   still  does  now ,   but  gets  confused .   for  one ,   she  imagined  spending  the  rest  of  her  life  with  him .   that  all  got  shot  to  hell  once  she  came   &   learned  the  truth .   it  was  another  thing  she  mourned   &   still  has  trouble  coming  to  terms  with .   he’s  not  the  same  soft   &   gentle  guy  she  knew  in  college .   he’s  hardened ,   worse  for  the  wear ,   it  kills  her  to  see ,   but  she  understands  in  her  own  little  way .   there’s  a  part  of  her ,   the  part  she  died  with ,   that  will  love  him  forever   &   wants  to  hang  around  him  if  she  gets  the  chance  to  do  so .   it  took  her  awhile  to  realize  that  they  weren’t  twenty  anymore .   she  was  supposed  to  be ,   but  they  weren’t .   sam ,   along  with  everything  else ,   has  taken  some  getting  used  to .   as  for  dean ,   she  takes  solace .   they’re  relatable ,   giving  her  some  odd  comfort .

i’ll  probably  add  more  eventually .   for  now  that’s  all  we  need  to  know .   if  you  have  more  questions  then  you  are  more  than  welcome  to  im  me or  send  an  ask ,   but  please  be  nice  this  time .   i’m  fragile   &   don’t  like  the  feeling  that  jess  is  getting  shit  on  for  not  being  canon  compliant  when  we  don’t  know  anything  about  her  whatsoever .   i  apologize  if  she  isn’t  the  jess  you  expected ,   but  there  are  other  wonderful  jessica’s  on  the  site  who  choose  to  be  more  like  what  we  saw  in  the  pilot .   for  now ,   do  whatever  you  want  to  with  this  information .   just   .   .   .   be  nice ?