#i still feel like he was right about everythin. so now that i don't let him have me anymore i'm just a waste of space

[deadlynightshadeunderthestars]

Earthlings and Aliens

@liketwoswansinbalance

here it is!

Well, this was actually an experimental bit of writing I published so it isn't technically finished, and this AU is more "free range" for now. It has endless possibilities and plots I would like to use, so I don't think I will write a strict storyline to it.

Midas couldn't believe his eyes when he found the Rhian from the stories standing right in front of him.

An actual extraterrestrial being.

Midas had always heard that aliens were grotesque and strange creatures that looked nothing like human beings, yet here Rhian was, no older than he was.

Granted, Rhian still had certain vibes that could not be from this planet. Unearthly beauty. His blue eyes had some sparkle in the irises and the puplis, like miniature stars in the evening sky. His wild blonde hair and his skin also had touches of sparkle and shine. And were those antennae? Midas was not hypnotized or impressed, to Rhian’s misfortune. In fact, he was filled with distrust. He didn't trust this stranger, much less one who was ogling at him.

Rhian, on the other hand, was enchanted by Midas at first sight. The boy didn't look like the other Earthlings– so common and uninteresting. He could have been the child of either sun or moon: his sweet looking gray eyes and his terracotta skin and copper curls made him look otherworldly.

"I don't want to go to your school," he snapped. "It isn't worth leaving Bongo or my home."

Rhian smiled, and this made Midas bristle. What was so funny? Was he really so inconsiderate? Being kidnapped by an alien was an Earthling's worst fear.

"Don't worry," he said, aiming a glowing finger at Midas to stun him, "you will be treated well on the way there. Wouldn't that be nice, to ride in an actual spaceship?"

"I don't know. I'm warning you, don't let my father or a safety official see you. Once they see an alien, it's over. The governments of Planet Earth are terrified of aliens. They think people like you will bomb us and annihilate us. They believe you will bring strange drugs and your people here." 

Rhian was about to laugh. 

These Earthlings were the most stupid people he had ever encountered. A toddler from his planet could easily destroy this neighborhood. And Rafal, RAFAL, the logical, cold, calculating, intelligent twin actually believed in these idiots, in their so-called potential. Maybe Rhian needed to take Rafal to the doctor. Maybe he was becoming sick in the head.

A snake slithered across the grass and Midas bent down to stroke its head. He glowered at Rhian. "I'm telling you, my dad's coming home any minute and when he sees you, he will-" He was interrupted by screams and his neighbors calling each other.

Midas left his backyard to his front door to get to the source of the screaming, stamping,  and unusual noise, traveling two blocks away. Arabella's house? Midas thought. Did she purchase drugs or something?"

Rhian was about to trail after him, but he turned to a giant screen. On display for the public view, were three disabled androids on the street. 

Rafal, he thought with despair. Rafal would fight like this. Rafal was in trouble. Rhian vaguely remembered Rafal heading in that direction for his special Earthling…

Rhian desperately wanted to go to the spaceship and leave with Midas. Let his brother fend for himself. Yet, Rhian didn't have Rafal's key and it wouldn't let him activate it without the key. Plus, he didn't know how Rafal got here and what directions he used. He didn't pay any attention. As he approached the house where his brother must undoubtedly be trapped in, he heard obnoxious yelling inside. Rhian remembered to use his disguise, and his antennae curled in his hair. This was more stressful than he thought. He could even feel them become more and more purple. No wonder his brother always hid them, even at home. 

"We need to scan your chip," an android said. "For your resistance, we have called extra forces."

A woman was sobbing. "My daughter told me everything. She told me this foreign freak wanted to take her away. To God knows where!" 

Rafal refused to go near the android. He was doomed if they scanned his chip, anyway. The android came to him, scanning it without his consent.

"Identity not recognized," it said. "You are under arrest for suspected terrorism, attempted abduction, and illegal entrance into our planet. Please follow us."

"I am not following you," Rafal snapped. "If you make me, I will make sure you share the same fate as those other stupid robots."

The woman looked up, glaring at him. "They already called humans against you. They will track you down and kill you, just like your people deserve. How dare you enter our world! We have had enough wars. We don’t need anymore, much less from invaders like your kind."

Rhian was silently watching. Midas was right. He hoped his dad wouldn't watch.

"Is she your friend?" Rhian asked, pointing to a redheaded girl, enamored with his brother. To his disgust, Midas' attention was also turned towards his brother.

"We are classmates and neighbors," Midas said slowly. "You brought more aliens, didn't you? More creatures to take our people to your home."

"Oh, he's just my brother," Rhian said quickly. "He was the one who brought me here. This wasn't my idea in the first-" The helicopters landed, and Rafal ran outside as far as he could, Arabella following after him. Someone in the crowd held a jar with a tiny Marialena inside. "They are infiltrating our home!" He screamed. Rafal eyed Rhian's disguise  in the crowd. Arabella headed in that direction. Suddenly, gunshots rang out and the crowd stepped back.

Rafal was hit. The police dragged him inside their plane. He was certainly doomed. He also found Rhian with another handsome boy. Again? He instructed Arabella to go to the ship as soon as possible and he gave her the key. She made a huge mistake in telling her mother, but she didn't know any better. Now she did. In case Rafal died here, at least Rhian had the key. At least he could fly home to safety.Arabella's mother had stabbed him in the stomach with a kitchen knife, then screamed "911" at her virtual assistant. Rafal wished he had obliterated that stupid computer program. He wished he had bombed this whole neighborhood.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Why do I still hate myself for not livin up to the person I used to pretend to be

[animatedrapture]

"Yer a whole fuckin' asshole and a half, yeah? What the fuck did ya do?"

Suna's voice is groggy. His throat is dry, maybe it's from the night he had, maybe even his body is tired of it all. "Too fucking early for this, Miya. What're you talkin' about?"

"Kana? You kissed Kana when YN was waiting on ya." Even through the phone, Suna can hear it: the seethe in Atsumu's voice, one he knows all too well when something so personal ticks him off. He's hissing out the words, like Kana's name, like it's venomous even to say it.

"I didn't. The fuck are you talking about, you dumbass? Quit running your mouth ‘bout shit you don't know, yeah?"

"Oh yeah? What's that picture all over Twitter then? And then to drop YN after that without explanation. Bro, that's fucking low—"

"Jesus christ—listen, stay out of—"

"Nah, you listen Sunarin. We thought you'd be good to YN, that's why we let ya be. But yer dumber than I ever been for doin' that to YN. Jus' cause Kana's your bestfriend doesn't mean she decides everythin' for ya. Grow a fuckin' pair."

Then there's loud beeping that nearly deafens Suna—it really is too fucking early for this—for anything, in fact.

Suna feels his stomach flipping, over and over, churning in the worst way possible. He swipes open his notifications and the first thing that greets him in bold, capital letters are headlines.

But his phone chimes again, and again, and again, the sound feels like dread filling him up with each one.

He sits up on the couch. His body hurts and he isn't sure if it's because he stayed there, refusing to be in the same room as Kana—sleeping in his room as if everything would be okay between them somehow—or if it's all mental.

Headlines officially confirming his "committed relationship" with Kana.

And a stolen picture of his lips on her—well, truly, her lips on his. Posted last night, at eleven while he was busy trying to make it up to the bestfriend he'd almost let something bad happen to.

Posted last night, when you were alone and finally decided you'd never mean to him as much Kana does.

Only, that's where you were wrong. But you didn't know that.

It's no wonder you've given up, looking back at everything that's happened in such a short amount of time. Where things stand, even after all that's said and done, Suna has never felt more lost.

To make things more suffocating for him, Kana's still in the apartment with him. 

But right there, he realizes something has to finally change.

Except Suna is met with the fact that you're gone—truly gone from him this time. He dials your number, searches you up, and in a final attempt, tries to message you.

You have him blocked. Everywhere.

Suna understands you should hate him by now, even more when he's bothering you after letting you go the way you wanted him, maybe now—even more as he picks up Kana's phone on the living room table because he just has to call you. Even if it meant using the phone of the exact reason you and him were an impossible thing now.

In another universe, Suna would call you, even if it meant it would be through Kana's phone, even if you'd hate his guts for it.

Even if he shouldn't.

Suna doesn't, though. In fact, Suna can't. Because as Kana's phone clicks unlocked—it's your name and a string of messages from Kana.

In his living room, broken from losing you, Suna couldn't even hear the sharp intake of breath he takes.

Something had to change—but he didn't think it would be so dire.

『 twenty-ninth / one: we were something 』

prev. | as friends | next: C29-2

notes:

— suna was TIRED as hecc so it ended up being that atsumu was calling him NONSTOP til he woke up :3

— i just realized this thing i've had ever since i stopped the smau was actually supposed to go first :3 MY BAD this is what happened literally just moments before the next chapter GOMENASAI OKAY

— hehehehe... my bad...

[hyperfixation-symposium]

I'm a q!Bad defender to my soul, and I want to talk about why I am frustrated with a lot of the (characters) responses to his current lore!!!

I am not talking about the cc!s only the characters!! I don't think anyone intentionally broke into his lore or broken anything lorewise this is just about the characters!

Bad has been on a downwards spiral for a while now, and it has been clear to everyone in his life. However, so few people have acted in this need to help him, and now, they seem shocked that he didn't get better! And that he got worse!

Instead of channeling anything into helping him, they're only pushing him farther away.

When the vacation arc started, it didn't seem to take long for people to realize it was less of a vacation and more a way to excuse his more unhealthy behaviors he was indulging in. However, instead of reaching out, the people in his life told him he needed help, but didn't offer any. They told him he should take a break, but still pushed their responsibilities and expectations on him.

They watched as he got worse, all insisting it was fine with a smile on. But you know who knew, who understood, who tried to do the most for him?

The eggs.

Bad's kids, as well as the other eggs, love their tio Bad. Tio Bad visiting is like Christmas, but for the best armour and supplies. Tio Bad visiting is comfort and dedication, it's safety.

The eggs knew the most about how much he was suffering, and took the most action to help. Because they could tell he wouldn't push anyone to act for him. They were grounding but also incredibly supportive.

Bad could argue about politics with Forever, he could fight and get no credit, he could leave gifts unrecognized and never repaid, all was okay if he had his kids.

Then the furniture gets stolen.

Everyone was quick to jump on him. In a moment all the work he had ever done didn't seem to matter. He was imprisoned unfairly, questioned, hell the way he ran from the place you could tell it bothered him. And he only got 1 apology from Cellbit for that damned day.

It seemed as if everything he did disappeared into the background of Bad taking a (frankly, easy to get) resource. It wasn't right of him to do, but all the sudden he was evil for it. He didn't even do it this time.

If there was one easy thing to push his mistrust of others over the edge, it was that. But it was okay, because he still had his family.

And then the eggs disappeared.

Bad was already low. He had dealt with everything Dapper was hiding from him, Pomme admitting she wasn't well either, but they could get through it together. Family.

And then they were gone. Without a trace, without an indication of where they might have gone.

And everyone goes a bit insane. Forever, one of Bad's closest and most trusted friends, ends up on Cucurucho meds, and then in a coma. While trying to help him, trying to keep the other parents spirits up, no one is doing the same for him. He's alone in his house, talking to a statue of his best friend. Never so far away.

And then finally, when everything is falling apart, he accepts who he is. A demon, an ancient creature capable of terrible things, and a father. A father who will do anything for his children.

Including hurting an innocent.

And now, as people are finding out about this, they're getting upset at him. How could he, reach such a low! But they're not recognizing that they never helped him. They never refused to let him go until he got proper help, hell, the room Forever made for him was so so late in Bad's cry for help. Which is not to minimize it, hell, Bad himself said it was the first time in a long time that it felt like everything was going to be okay. It was the first time he didn't antagonize Ron openly, even gave him gifts. And I feel like that's a show of just how much Bad needed someone, anyone, to be the person he was for them to him.

And now he could loose all of that again.

It all feels like it was doomed to fall. When a person who gives others their everything never gets anything in return, what happens when they run out of things to give? When everything they worked for is gone?

Maybe move away. Where no one can find you. Take whatever is left and go.

Bad's family is shattered. Bad is shattered.

And while I don't blame anyone for being upset at him, I wish it was recognized how much they didn't help him before, how much effort they put towards their own things disregarding him in a way he never did them.

The one major expection?

q!Foolish.

In this essay I will shot for talking too much

Anyways. No proof reading we die like Juanaflippa! Ofc this is all roleplay and Bad's cries for help could be put off or overlooked for many reasons and I don't blame the CC!s for anything I love all the characters. Back to real life I go

[greyfics]

fifties/sixties song lyric prompts

because I've drafted so many quotes from songs that I want to use as inspiration for fic writing whilst listening to my throwback playlist and whether you're on this little site for role-playing, fanfics or general writing inspiration I'm sure this'll be of use ! will be doing another one with lines from songs I have specifically discovered via the fallout tv series soundtrack I was going to add them here but realised I already did uh a fair few by that point to say the least haha

you don't have to use these as quotes ( personally I like to use prompts sometimes as the titles for the writing it inspires, even if I don't use the prompt at all in the end ), so do what you want with them :)

- °•. ✦ .•° -

"You're alone now, no love of your own- but darlin', reach out." "Nobody's right if everybody's wrong." "You keep losin' when you ought to not bet." "You told me lies, now it's your turn to cry." "That's the kind of girl I'd like to meet." "You, to me, are sweet as roses in the morning." "The concrete and the clay beneath my feet begins to crumble- but love will never die." "We'll see the mountains tumble before we say goodbye." "The shadows fall, and once again you're in my arms." "Everytime I see your face, I get all choked up inside." "Hope you are quite prepared to die." "I thought love was only true in fairy-tales- meant for someone else, but not for me." "I thought love was more or less a given thing- seems the more I gave, the less I got." "I betcha five dollars he'll kill you dead." "Is her sweet expression worth more than my love and affection?" "He's taken everythin' I got." "I wonder, what went wrong with our love?" "I wonder, where she will stay- my little runaway." "Your mind is so full of red." "Your eyes may look like his- but in your head, baby, I'm afraid you don't know where it is." "Wouldn't you love somebody to love?" "I go through life, without a care." "Now that I've surrendered, so helplessly- you now want to leave." "Now that you've got me, you wanna leave me behind." "I know something about love: you've gotta want it bad." "Why should true love be so complicated?" "I want to be with you all of the time." "The only time I feel alright is by your side." "I don't believe you, you're not the truth." "Are you lonely, just like me?" "When I found you, the moon stood still." "All of those vows you made, were never to be." "Though we're apart, you're part of me still." "If we go some place to dance, I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me." "I can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before." "Though it's just a line for you, for me it's true." "Bluer than velvet were her eyes; warmer than may her tender sighs." "Ours a love I held tightly, feeling the rapture grow." "Like a flame burning brightly- when she left, gone was the glow." "And I still can see blue velvet through my tears." "Darlin', save the last dance for me." "I will never, never let you go." "Carry on, 'til the night is gone and it's time to go." "Ain't that a shame? You're the one to blame." "Say you belong to me and ease my mind." "A wave out on the ocean could never move that way." "I love every movement- there's nothing I would change." "Will you still love me tomorrow?" "I only know I never wanna let you go." "Ever since we met you've had a hold on me." "I never knew that I could be in love like this." "I didn't stand a chance." "No one here gets out alive, now." "You get yours baby, I'll get mine." "They got the guns. but we got the numbers." "We're takin' over." "I'll make you so proud of me." "We'll make 'em turn their heads, every place we go." "Since the day I saw you, I have been waiting for you." "You know I will adore you, 'til eternity." "You're a real mean guy." "I know that you're the one to blame." "You mixed me up for good right from the very start." "I don't feature what you're putting down." "Since I kissed his loving lips of wine, the thing that bothers me is that I like it fine." "Might as well confess, if the answer's yes." "Though it really hurts me, there's something that I've gotta say." "You stretched my love, till it was thin enough to tear." "I'm just a somebody nobody wants." "I don't want to set the world on fire, honey- I love you too much." "If your love is gone, how can I face the dawn?" "Maybe you'll ask me to come back again- and, maybe, I'll say maybe." "It hurts me to tell 'em that you're gone."

- °•. ✦ .•° -

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 5: Gorgeous | Read Chapter 4: Invisible String!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: T - T ((for now, but there WILL BE explicit stuff later sooo (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, ofc, especially sexual tension out the wahzoo. Adult language. Alotta feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at a 72.8% but ends up at about a 55.9% in this chapter). Discussions of loss: parental. Mentions of food and alcohol. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary!: You and Ezra spend the night sharing stories over food and drinks. You share stories of loss, of joy, encouraging a new connection between you two. Leading to a sense of hope between you both in this newfound friendship.

A/N: REWRITTEN AND REFORMATTED ON: 12/28/23

******

“You should take it as a compliment

That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

You should think about the consequence

Of your magnetic field being a little too strong…”

Ezra smiles broadly, glad that you agreed to the plan. The bonus is that he didn't have to grovel as much as he figured he would have to. He takes you to his quarters and asks that you wait for him a moment while he heads inside. 

You hear him shuffling around in there but you don’t ask him what he’s doing, instead trying to calm your inner nerves. You don’t have much time to really think though as whatever he’s doing, he’s done with quickly. He smiles as he comes out of the tent, his pack on his shoulders now. Without another word, he turns and begins to lead the way, the two of you falling into step together. He makes sure to match his pace to yours, not wanting to overwhelm you or make you feel rushed. 

"So," he says after a few seconds, trying to sound light and casual. "What do friends talk about, then?" You grin and look over at him with a teasing smile. 

"Are you telling me you don't know how to make friendly conversation?" You ask, just not able to keep yourself from teasing him. The sound of leaves and shrubs crunching under your feet as you two walk becomes a quiet rhythm in the background.

Ezra laughs, amused by your jab. “Didn’t we agree no jokes?” He asks, though his tone is lighthearted. You shrug in response, smiling to yourself.

“Old habits.” You quip. He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

"Of course, I know how to make friendly conversation. Just want to know how you get things started." He says, still taking the teasing in good humor. His tone is lighter now, the tension from earlier broken by the laughter. "Go on, you start. What topics do friends discuss in your experience?"

"Well... we're starting over, right? So, then I guess we talk about our lives." You shrug. "Our histories, how we got to where we are, all that stuff." You say, your hands behind your back as you walk with him.

Ezra smiles, nodding along as you speak. "Good idea," he says. "Sounds like a good place to start. Okay, but here are some rules. We need full honesty, okay? No more games, no holdin’ facts back. I want to hear everythin’, and I want it straight from the source. No secrets, no bull..." He laughs, a smile on your face. "Just the truth. We got a deal?"

"Wow, you're really taking this starting over thing seriously, huh?" You ask. "Ok, deal." You say.

"I am, and I want you to do the same, alright?" Ezra asks earnestly. "No half-truths, no white lies. I'm puttin’ everythin’ on the table." He asks again, a hint of seriousness in his voice. "This is really important to me."

You notice the seriousness in his tone and look over at him for a long moment. His dark brown eyes are almost obsidian in the light of the moon through the trees. They’re as serious as ever and you feel your heart thump loudly in response. "Alright, deal then." You say earnestly.

Ezra smiles, relieved at your response. "Good, I'm glad you're takin’ this seriously too," he says earnestly, his face full of warmth. "So let's start with... the start. Where did ya come from? Family, home life, all that stuff, tell me about it." His expression is a little hesitant, maybe thinking you’re going to change your mind. But when your expression turns pensive, you can see the relief in his eyes. His smile quickly returns, and he nods, ready to listen. 

"Ok." You say, smiling softly at his genuine curiosity. "Where did I come from? A planet a few lightyears from here named Amorna. A prospecting town. My family dynamic is a little unusual, but it's a good unusual I guess." You shrug the shoulder nearest to him lightly. "My biological father’s been out of the picture since before I was born. So I was raised by my grandmother, my uncle, and my mom." You say.

Ezra listens intently, his expression soft and attentive as you tell him about your life, about your family. There's a look of sympathy in his eyes as you talk about your father, and he can feel his heart pang in sympathy for how much it seems to have affected you. When he speaks, it's with a kindness and sincerity he's never shown before. "That can't’ve been easy," he says, shaking his head. "You're strong to have gotten through that. And it sounds like you were raised in a family that loves you."

There's a sadness in your eyes as he says that first bit. "Yeah, my father is a deadbeat. He really let me down." You say before you quickly move on. "The rest of my family is great though, they’ve been my support my entire life.”

 "What can you tell me about ‘em?" He asks, seeing that you want to shift gears and he follows your lead easily.

"They're amazing, all super hardworking. My mom and my grandma were like my parents. Mom played the role of the ‘dad’, while my grama was the ‘mom’."

Ezra smiles, feeling happy for you. "Your mother and grandmother must have been some incredible women." He says, imagining the strength they must have possessed to raise such an independent, strong woman as you. "And what about siblin’s?" He asks, his tone curious. "Do you get along well?"

You shake your head a little in response. "Only child." You add. “I wish we could’ve been a bigger family but after my birth, which was complicated for my mom, well… she decided she didn’t want to go through it again.”

“Complicated in what sense?” He asks before he quickly backtracks respectfully. “If it’s too personal, I completely understand.”

“It was a hard birth. She didn’t know she was pregnant and I was almost a miscarriage.” You say quietly. He goes quiet at that, his face understanding and somber.

“I’m sorry for your mother. I can’t imagine that was an easy thing to go through at all.” He says sympathetically. You nod for a moment as you think about your mom, smiling a little sadly as you realize how much you’ve missed her all this time. 

“Yeah,” You finally say with a small sigh. “It’s not all bad though, I guess due to that, I was spoiled rotten.” Your smile is light-hearted now and he laughs, his mood instantly lifting and the atmosphere around you both soft and warm once again.

“Oh? So that explains the bratty behavior, then, eh?” He teases. You pretend to be mock offended, turning to look at him with widened eyes. 

“A brat?? Me??? How dare you.” You say but your tone is humored. Your eyes twinkle with mischief and Ezra swears his heart stops for the briefest of seconds. His cheeks go rosy for a moment and he averts his eyes as he reminds himself to be friendly. 

“Well, it uh, it sounds like you're lucky to have each other," he says earnestly. "I have sisters and we’re close in age, so it was always incredibly packed at our place." He shakes his head, still smiling softly. 

You nod. "Yeah, I am lucky. For them both.” You agree before you turn to look at him with curiosity in your eyes. "So, wait, you've got sisters?? How many? And how old are they??" You're genuinely curious.

He smiles at your curiosity, but he nods when you ask about his family. "Yeah, I've got three sisters," he says, clearly happy to finally answer your questions. "My little sister, Shira... she's the youngest, she’s 35, my baby sister," he says softly, a look of pride on his face. "And I've also got two elder sisters, Dalia, 44, and Danni, 45. But they might as well be twins, they're so similar." His smile turns into a chuckle as he thinks about them. "It's one big family, I'll tell you that much."

You smile at the way he seems so proud of his sisters, as he speaks with such clear adoration for them. "Yeah? What about your parents? What are they like?" You ask him.

Ezra smiles thoughtfully at the question. His face softens as he thinks, a nostalgic aura around him as he remembers his past. "They were wonderful," he says. "They were the kind of parents that every kid wishes they had. Lovin’ and kind, but also fair and understandin’. They always did their best to help me grow up to be the best person I could be.” He laughs softly. "I know those are just sentiments that every offspring shares, but I mean it. My parents were very special people."

You hear the past tense he uses. You don't want to pry but you can't help your curiosity. "'Were'? They've... They've passed away?" You ask.

Ezra sighs, his expression turning sad. "Yes, they have. They were in an accident... a while ago. I've been dealin’ with the loss for a few years now, but I'll admit it's still hard sometimes." His expression turns wistful as if he were looking back on all his precious memories with them. But he snaps out of that mood quickly, shaking his head slowly. "It's okay though. I've got a great support system - my sisters - and my parents taught me how to be a good man. I'm just... tryin’ to live up to their legacy."

You can't help it as you place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of comfort. "I'm so sorry." You say sincerely as you look into his eyes. "I had a stepdad from the ages of 10-14, he passed away too and it was the hardest thing I've gone through, yet. His death was slow and honestly traumatic. I can't even imagine what I would do if I lost my mom too." Your eyes are gentle and sympathetic as you look at him

Ezra looks at you, his expression filled with gratitude and sincerity. "Thank you," he says softly. "It means a lot to me that you understand. A lot of people seem to think I should be over it already, but I don't think you can ever really 'get over' somethin’ like that." Your kindness seems to have calmed him a little bit, and he smiles genuinely. "This all happened a while ago, but I swear some days I wake up and it’s like it all happened just yesterday.” You nod, knowing exactly what he means.

"I hate to say it but... you don't get over it. Not with something like that. You know that saying, 'Time heals all wounds'?" You ask him.

Ezra nods earnestly, knowing exactly where you're going with this. "Yeah, I'm familiar with the sayin’." He says, his expression serious. "But the truth is, I don't think time can heal all wounds." There's a twinge of sadness in his voice as he speaks, but he shakes his head and clears his throat. "Time heals some wounds... And it can dull the pain of others… at the very least make them more tolerable. Some wounds, though, you can never really heal properly, even with time."

You nod, surprised that he caught on so quickly. "Yeah, exactly. Especially when it's such a profound loss like a parent... You don't 'learn to move on' or 'get over it'. You accept that it's happened, eventually, and learn how to adapt to life without them. Even if it's the hardest thing." You say.

Ezra nods at your wisdom, impressed at the way you've articulated such a complex concept so succinctly. "Exactly, yeah." He says, glad that you understand. "The loss never really goes away, and the pain never really heals... but the wounds... they hurt a little less eventually. It's a lot like physical wounds, I think. There are some injuries that leave permanent scars, but you can learn to live with them. And eventually, you can learn to exist in a 'normal' life again... even if you'll never be the same."

You nod, in complete agreement. 

"Yeah, for sure..." You trail off, unsure of what to say next for a moment. "I'm sure your mom and dad were as amazing as you say." You say softly,

"They truly were," Ezra says earnestly. "My mother... She was the strongest person I've ever known. She was beautiful, smart, and kind, and she never once let me think I could be inferior to anyone else. Even the times we were as poor as can be. She made sure I always felt like I mattered, and she always listened to me. And my dad... He was the funniest person I've ever met. His smile could light up a room, and he never let any situation get him down." He smiles fondly, clearly thinking about happy memories. "I miss them, but I hold on to those memories of them."

You can't help it as your eyes widen at his words. "You're... You're not gonna believe this but... that sounds just like what I would say about my mom and my stepdad..." You say, almost incredulous. "My mom always used to tell me I had to 'look out for number one' a.k.a myself, and my stepdad was a huge jokester. He could be serious when he needed to be, but he preferred to make people laugh and be at ease."

Ezra's eyes widen in equal shock, his expression one of pure amazement at the similarities between your descriptions. "That's... That's incredible." He says, his voice disbelieving. "My parents raised me to value strength and courage above all else and to help others whenever possible. And my dad could always make me laugh to the point of tears!" He smiles, his eyes full of wonder. "Now you have me curious. What about your grandmother? Your uncle? Tell me about them," He asks, clearly interested and wanting to hear more about your family.

"They're also the best." You say with a fond smile. "My grandmother was strong-willed, So intelligent, and insanely hard-working, the trait both my mom and I got from her. Patient with me, but hard on everyone else, A wonderful cook, and very sassy," You both laugh at that. 

Ezra can see in your eyes how much you miss her. “When did you lose her?" His voice is its softest yet, his tone again understanding. It’s clear he won’t push this subject if you decline to answer.

"A few years after my stepdad." You with a small, morose smile. "It wasn't easy for any one of us when we lost him, not at all. That and other stuff led to her health declining pretty steadily. But she passed peacefully in her sleep and at least I have that comfort that she didn’t suffer like my stepdad, ya know?" You ask. He nods softly.

"And your uncle?" He prompts softly. You smile a little more.

"Sort of a father figure. He's still living with my mom back home. He's the oldest and she's the baby so he protects her as much as he does me. He really stepped up after my stepdad passed." You say.

"You seem like you had a really lovin’, supportive family. I'm glad you all had one another to lean on when things were tough." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "You’ve come from a really good place, and I’m certain you can bring even more of that goodness to the universe."

You flush slightly at his subtle compliment and thank him. He suddenly stops and so do you as you see the river he mentioned earlier, realizing now that you both were so wrapped up in the conversation that you didn't even hear it. "Oh, the river. Where's the place to eat that you mentioned?" You ask him, scanning the area.

Ezra’s smile remains warm. "Right over here," he says, leading you through a small patch of trees. The terrain is uneven in spots, and it's a little rocky, but he does his best to guide you safely through the potentially rough ground. "This is the best place to eat near the river," he explains. "It's right on the water, so you have an absolutely gorgeous view on one side, and a nice cliff overlookin’ it all that we can eat on. Trust me, it’s solid enough."

You manage to keep up with him, letting him lead the way and doing your best to follow and stay close. He smiles at your determination and slows his pace a little bit to make sure you're not having too much trouble. You make it to the spot, and a gorgeous view opens up before you. 

Just as he promised, there's a perfect area for eating, a cliff full of lush grass sits overlooking the water. Beyond the river itself is a breathtaking view of the forest in the moonlight. The water bubbles as it rushes over the gravel and stones below. If it wasn’t dark out you’d be half-tempted to jump in for a swim. It's really a stunning sight. "See? What’d I tell ya?" He asks with a smile, his arm stretched out wide to gesture around at the natural beauty around you.

"Wow... this is incredible!" You say with genuine awe in your voice. "But wait, where do we get the food from?" You ask him.

Ezra laughs a little bit at that. "I packed picnic provisions earlier, so all we have to do is lay out all the food right here." He walks over to his backpack and starts pulling out a variety of packs. He's got all the typical picnic items: sandwiches, fruit, etc. "The greatest part of it," he adds, his smile still on his face, "is that we brought drinks too." He reaches into the very bottom of the pack and brings out two aluminum cans with tabs. It’s cider, you realize.

You smile at him and see him bring everything out. "Is the cider the alcoholic kind??" You ask with genuine intrigue as you begin helping him organize the food and set it between you two.

Ezra's smile turns mischievous at your question. "Course it is," he says with a grin and a small wink your way. "The best way to wash down food on a picnic is with alcohol! I tried to bring only the best, you know?" He looks like a kid at Christmas as you two prepare everything, his excitement evident in his tone as he speaks with such confidence and enthusiasm. "And we've got some of the finest right here with us."

"Where in Kevva's name did you get alcohol from? The rest of the crew would kill for this stuff!" You say with a giddiness in your tone. You haven’t had alcohol in a long while. It was forbidden on expeditions, just as was other contraband, like his herbal cigarettes, but you’re glad your earlier suspicion about his hidden stash was correct.

Ezra's smile turns sheepish as he speaks. "Well..." He trails off, not sure how you're going to react to his answer. "It helps to be the boss’s right-hand man." He laughs softly with a small wink as he hands you a can. "As long as we're clear that this is just between us, I'm happy to share. This is rare stuff, right?" He asks, his eyes wide and curious, looking like his mind has already started to imagine the cider's taste.

"Insanely rare." You say, grabbing the can and reading it over. "Oh man, those bastards back at camp would go nuts for this."

Ezra laughs at your words. "Well then, it's a good thing we're as far away from them as possible." He says, already imagining the two of you sitting and enjoying the rare, forbidden goods right in front of you. "Now, are you ready to finally taste this glorious cider, or would you prefer we quench our hunger first? I'm kind of starvin’, but I'm happy to let you choose."

"Let's eat first." You say. "I haven't had alcohol in a while and we're gonna need some food in our systems to avoid getting drunk immediately." You say as you grab a sandwich.

Ezra nods at that, setting down his cider for the time being. "Sounds like a good plan to me," he agrees, his hungry stomach growling a little bit. He moves to grab a sandwich of his own, taking a bite and chewing happily. 

You two eat together and for once, the silence is comfortable and pleasant between you two. There’s still some tension there underneath, but it feels warm and almost electric. He takes a little break from his eating to speak again, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you. 

"I have to say, I'm really enjoyin’ this so far. I'm happy that we're hangin’ out."

You smile and nod. "I never thought I'd say this but... I feel the same way. Hanging out without so much uneasiness... it feels good." You say, finishing your own sandwich happily.

Ezra smiles at your response, looking down at the food and savoring his own last bite. "Well, you know what they say about makin’ friends," he says with a soft laugh. "Sometimes, all it takes is a couple of drinks." He winks at you, his tone playful. "But you and I, we didn't even need that," He counters with a bright grin. "So, just imagine how good we're gonna be when we do drink."

You laugh softly. "As long as this night doesn't end with us getting drunk and trying to shoot each other's heads off, I'll be happy." You joke. Ezra laughs boisterously at your words, finding your dark sense of humor both funny and endearing.

"How 'bout another deal?" he says, holding his hand out between you two like you're about to shake on it. "No drunken shootouts tonight. Does that sound good to you?" He asks, his smile growing wide as he awaits your response.

You grin and slip your hand into his. "Deal." You say with a grin, shaking on it.

Ezra smiles broadly. "Then we understand each other," he says, nodding his head happily. "Now that we’re on the same page then, how ‘bout that cider?" He asks, his smile wide as he reaches over and grabs the bottle. "Shall we take a small sip, in solidarity of our new friendship?" He asks with a mischievous grin. You grin, knowing he's been eyeing the cider since he mentioned it. But you can't lie, you have been too. 

"Hell yeah." You respond.

Ezra laughs at your response, popping the tab on his can and pouring a little bit into two paper cups. He hands you one and you both toast with smiles. "Just a small sip," he reminds you, lifting his own cup to his lips to take a small drink from it but not taking it just yet. "This stuff's much more potent than you'd expect, in my limited experience with it. Wouldn't want you to get wasted and puke on all this beautiful food." His tone turns playful at that last bit and you grin. Now he takes a slow, small sip from the cup, his eyes wide as he takes in the cider's flavor.

"Oh please, if anyone's the lightweight here, it's probably you." You retort with a playful eye roll but still, just take a sip. It is strong, but it's really good too. It immediately makes your chest and throat feel warm, but it sits well in your stomach, making you smile. Ezra smiles at your response, clearly taking it as a joke. 

"Well... we'll find out soon," he says, sipping again. "Whaddya think?" He asks, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you. "Is it as good as you hoped?" He asks, leaning forward intently as he awaits your response. His attempt to impress you is adorably obvious.

"It's really good." You respond, taking a bigger sip. "Man, I didn't even realize how much I missed something as basic as alcohol." You mumble with a soft laugh.

Ezra chuckles at that, taking another sip from his own drink. "I know, right?" He asks, smiling widely at you. As he speaks, the cider's effects are already starting to kick in. He's finding himself growing warmer, more at ease, and he's feeling happier - and a little more relaxed too. "Is it just me, or is this stuff amazin’?" He asks.

"It is." You agree, feeling the same way. 

You two spend the next half hour like this: eating, making conversation, and drinking cider together. It's such a nice time, one you haven't experienced with him before, ever. The night drags on and soon the stars are out. You lie down when there's a lull in the conversation, feeling buzzed and full and happy. It’s damn near perfect.

It all passes by in a blur of laughter and conversation, your talk flowing like the cider. You enjoy each other's company, finding yourselves lost in the moment - and as the night draws to a close, the cider's effects begin to become more noticeable. You feel warmer than usual, especially in your face, and there's a slight hint of euphoria beginning to set in. It's a strange sensation, but a pleasant one. Time flies by, and before long, the night sky is lit up with millions of stars, filling your view with a truly beautiful sight.

You lie back on the grass under you and just use up a minute to watch the night sky, taking in the constellations and the pink luminescence of the full moon.

Ezra lays on the grass next to you, looking up at the stars with a fond smile on his face. He sighs at the natural beauty of the universe, letting the night wash over him. "This is honestly one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen," he says, looking at the stars with reverence. "The stars are truly breathtakin’... It's incredible to think that we only know ‘bout such a small, insignificant number of ‘em. Even as space-farin' travelers... our knowledge is still so limited on the true expanse of space. Just ‘magine it: infinite galaxies, and universes at our disposal. Just knowin’ that there are trillions more that we'll never see, with infinite more planets - it's both awe-inspirin’ and humblin’ at the same time."

You can't help it as you laugh softly at what he says, half from drunkenness and half from good-natured humor. Ezra chuckles at your laughter, finding himself unable to contain a wide grin of his own as his mind begins to drift. He's never felt this... loose and at ease before. It's a pleasant feeling and a pleasant change of pace. All of that stress and pressure that comes with helping run a team have melted away, and it feels like he could just enjoy this night forever. This is what he wants, and the realization brings a sense of calm with it that is hard to explain. 

"Tell me," he asks, turning his head to look at you, "what are you laughin’ at?"

"You." You respond honestly, your eyes still on the sky above you. "Even while drunk you still manage to talk a lot. It's impressive." You say, looking over at him with a playful glint in your eyes even as your smile is genuine and kind. Ezra laughs at your words, his face growing brighter in his blushing.

"Well, it's not somethin’ I do intentionally," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess I’m just a verbose individual, drunk or sober. Can’t help it. It's my gift and my curse." He sighs, but he can't help the broad smile that comes to his face. 

“I’ll say,” You respond with a good-natured laugh as you slightly sit up on your elbows, looking over at him. “I mean, c’mon, what was that you said the other day?” You clear your throat and suddenly crank out your best Ezra impression, an awful attempt at a Southern accent and all, 

“If we hold that equivalent exchange persists in this space then we must give somethin’ of ourselves in order to build somethin’ new, in order to purge the bowels of this fecund wood for treasures made our own. Some of us have the proclivity for greatness while most do not. And those ambitious masses are the sacrifice this forest demands so that the true diviners can stand atop the mountain of corpses and claim their riches.” You’re both surprised you even remembered a sentence of that, let alone the whole thing. He grins, looking over at you and laughing at both the awful impersonation and impressive recall.

"Does that mean you wish me to shut up?" He asks, his tone playful. "Cuz if you prefer silence, I'm happy to oblige.”

"Are you kidding? The day you go fully silent is the day Kevva herself will come down from the heavens and end us all." You say, laughing a little more. "Besides, it's never really bothered me." You add sincerely with a light shrug.

Ezra laughs at your words, finding himself at a loss for a response to your comment. 

"Honestly, I used to think you were so talkative just to impress the crew." You remark. He shakes his head, scoffing.

"Did ya really peg me as such a kiss-ass?" He asks. You shrug and make a 'small' gesture with your index finger and thumb, laughing again. He laughs too. "Suppose you've got a point," he says, clearly amused. "But, not really for them..." He admits with a pointed look your way. When you meet his eyes he grins, winking a little and making you avert your eyes bashfully. He pauses, his eyes still on you, and his tone turns sincere and soft. "It's honestly been an… unexplainable night," he says, his smile growing wider as he speaks. "I've never... enjoyed myself like this. Maybe I’m jumpin’ the gun but I have to ask: do ya feel like I'm your friend yet?" He asks with a genuine smile, turning his body so he's fully facing you.

"Well, let's see: shared our pasts? Check. Ate at least one meal together? Check. Drank together without having any issues? Check check." You say with another soft laugh. Before you turn your face slightly towards his, your eyes now sincere as you let the mood grow a little more serious. "Yeah," you say softly. "I think we're friends."

Ezra smiles warmly at your words. He's feeling really good - more at ease than he's felt in a very long time - and to hear that, well... it means more to him than you could understand. He gently takes your hand and gives it a little squeeze, his smile growing warmer with each moment. "I'm happy to hear that," he says with a sigh, "because I've really been enjoyin’ spendin’ time with you too. It's been a long time since I've felt this at ease around someone." You smile and return the affectionate gesture. 

"Well, considering how dangerous our jobs are, that doesn't surprise me. It's hard to trust anyone out here, isn’t it? It's hard to really open up and be vulnerable when you're constantly in danger or preparing to be in danger." You say.

Ezra chuckles quietly, nodding his head in agreement. "That's very true," he says with a smile, squeezing your hand again gently. "This job can be absolutely cutthroat. A lot of prospectors will sell out the people they love just for the slimmest chance at a better payday. I'm not a fan of that kind of behavior, but it's definitely prevalent in our field." He looks down at you and smiles earnestly at you, pondering his next question. "Do you feel... safe around me?" He asks in a soft, caring way.

You meet his eyes and look over at him for a long moment, considering his question seriously. "You know... even though we were sworn enemies only hours ago... yeah I do. I always have. Even that other night outside my tent. When you grabbed me... I didn't feel unsafe. I didn't even feel scared. I put my weapon away as soon as I realized you weren't a threat, which if that had been any other prospector, I would've just shot them." You say, incredulous at your realization.

Ezra was not expecting that answer. His heart begins to race as you explain how you felt that night, and he finds himself at a loss for words. He can feel himself beginning to blush again, something he knows he can’t blame on the cider. He's not quite sure just how to reply to what you've just said. "That's... That's quite the compliment," he says after a pause, smiling at your words. "I'm... honestly, I'm sort of dumbfounded. I really don't know how to respond." He laughs quietly. "You... really didn't feel that scared of me?"

"Not at all." You say honestly, looking at him again. "I should have been... but now that I'm thinking about it... even when I despised you, I still felt much safer around you than I have anyone else on our crew." You say that like you can't believe it and that's because you truly can't.

Ezra's eyes seem to brighten up at your words, and a grin comes to his face as he hears just how safe you felt - and still feel - around him. His blush grows more intense as he looks over, unsure of just how he should respond. He doesn't want to say anything wrong - because in that one moment, he feels like he's just been given an incredibly precious gift. "That... means more to me than I can even put into words," he says softly, his voice a little shaky as he speaks. "Makes me really happy to hear."

You smile. "What about you? Do you feel safe around me?" You ask him, curious. You notice his hand still hasn't released yours but you don’t make an attempt to pull back from his grip. His touch is warm, firm in yours. It feels… almost natural.

He nods immediately, his tone turning serious as he speaks. "Absolutely," he says, his voice quiet and soft, as though he's trying to hide the feeling from himself. "I... I do feel safe around you." He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "It's the first time on this planet that I've felt safe. I can't describe it. I really can't." He takes another moment to look at you, a sincere smile on his face. "And I'd be lyin’ if I didn't say that that means... well, a lot."

You grin, feeling a rush of pride as he admits that he also feels safe around you too. You sense a sudden shift in the air between you two. Something more... vulnerable. Intimate. "Can I ask you something?" You ask, your voice softer and quieter as you try to find the right way to ask this next question.

"Course, you can ask me anythin’," he replies, a soft smile still on his face. He finds himself leaning forward a little bit at the change in tone, his focus entirely on you. "What's on your mind?" He asks, his eyes are soft and sweet. He seems to relax further as he speaks. 

"Earlier... when you told me the truth about how you felt about me... you said I 'grew on you', right? Well, I guess I wanna know: was there a specific moment that you can remember where you went from hating me to liking me?" You ask him, seeming almost bashful as you speak.

Ezra chuckles quietly at your words, amused by how timid you seem. "Well... it's a little hard to pinpoint one moment, exactly." He says, his smile growing as he speaks to you. "I think it was more of a build-up effect. The more we spoke, the more I... I don't know. The more I found myself enjoyin’ your company, I guess? It really happened quite suddenly, but I realized that I found myself anticipatin’ our talks more and more." He nods to you in confirmation. "Does that make sense at all?"

You nod, and look over at him. "Our 'talks'?" Your tone is teasing again and playful. "I think our fellow prospectors would call it 'feuding' and 'bickering'." You say with another laugh. You finally pull your hand from his.

He looks down as if just now realizing he was still holding your hand. He misses your touch immediately. You grab both of your cups and refill them with a bit more cider, taking another swig, and letting the warmth of it run through you. He thanks you as you hand him his and laughs in response to your words, his smile growing wider at your teasing tone. 

"Well, they can call it whatever they please," he says with a grin, "I'd be hard-pressed to call such a thing 'bickerin'. It was just two people... gettin’ to know each other." He takes a sip of his apple cider as he speaks, the warm feeling still present. "I rather enjoyed it, actually. The... the feudin." His last two words come out in his own teasing tone, and he looks at you with a playful smirk.

"Oh yeah?" You ask. "Those times we almost drew our weapons on each other would disagree." You retort, feeling warm. "I'm surprised we've never actually taken a shot at each other."

Ezra laughs at your words, finding himself unable to argue against that point. There have been quite a few moments where you two could have fired on each other... but you didn't. "Yeah, that is strange, ain’t it?" He asks, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "And we've certainly had more than our fair share of opportunities to end each other, huh?" There's a playful snark to his voice, but he doesn't disagree with you. "Would you prefer it if we had, then? Taken a shot, I mean." He asks with a smirk.

You grin, meeting his eyes, "Mmm... maybe." You say with a light shrug, though you're clearly joking. "No." You admit right after. "I've seen you in battle, and while I'm a good shot, you're much quicker on the draw than I am." You say, impressed.

"I've got good reaction speed, for sure," Ezra says with another smile. "As much as I hate to admit it though, you've got some good instincts while we're in battle." He pauses, taking another sip of his apple cider. "Maybe I should be a little more cautious in our future 'bickerin'?" He asks, laughing a bit as he speaks. "It might just save my life if you can pull it off." He smiles cheekily at you, laughing all the while.

"Oh?" You challenge, raising yourself up on your elbows. "So does that mean you want to have us be mortal enemies again?" You ask jokingly as you look over at him.

Ezra shakes his head, laughing at your words. "Oh no," he says, "I think I've had enough of bein’ enemies for a while at least. I'd prefer a night of peace." He takes another sip of his apple cider, still laughing as he speaks. "Perhaps I'll change my mind before the night's done, but... right now, I'm feelin’ like bein’ friends for at least long enough to enjoy this nice, quiet time together." He smiles at you warmly as he speaks.

You smile at that. "I can do that." You say in agreement. "This night has been... so different than what I thought it would be… in a good way." You clarify there at the end.

"I completely agree," Ezra says in confirmation. "This has been unlike anythin’ I've ever experienced... for me, this night has been life-changin’." He's silent for a moment as he considers exactly what he wants to say, and then he speaks quietly. "I'm not sure how long such a thing could last between us," he says, his tone becoming a little softer as he looks down at you, "but... I'm hopin’ this isn't the last time we get to share somethin’ like this with one another." In a very rare moment, the words just come straight from his heart. You look over at him and feel yourself shocked for only a moment. There's a clear vulnerability in those words and you feel compelled to respond in kind. 

"It won't be." You promise. "I... I liked this." You say, and take your final drink, feeling the effects of the cider wash over you again.

Ezra smiles at your words, finding himself unable to contain his joy. "I did too," he says sincerely, "I really did." He sighs as he runs another hand through his hair, his voice growing soft as he speaks. "It's... it's been a really long time since I've had a moment like this. I... I can't tell you how important this has been." The look on his face is one of pure sincerity, and his voice is quiet as if he's speaking a secret to you. "I truly appreciate this."

You smile. "Any time." 

You two spend another half hour talking under the stars before you both decide it's getting late and you should head back to camp, feeling a little more sobered up now. You feel sad at the idea of your time with him ending but there's a sense of hope and potential in the air between you two.

Ezra smiles as you both make the decision to leave, but there's still an undeniable sadness in his heart. He had hoped that the moment would never end... but all good things, right? He stands up, offering you a hand as you get up. 

The walk back seems shorter than the going to, but you attribute that to your sadness at the prospect of the night ending. As you two reach the quarters, he turns to face you once more, his pack on his back. "Thank you for this," he says with a smile. He walks you back to your bunk and gives you a quick, reassuring smile. "I'll see you at breakfast, I expect?" He asks with a small grin.

"Yeah, definitely." You say with a soft smile. "I'll see you in the morning, Ezra. Get some sleep." You say kindly.

Ezra nods, giving you one last, warm smile. "I will. Sleep well." He gives you an understanding nod, and with that, he turns and walks away to make his way to his bunk. He stops, takes a look back, and gives you a quick, genuine wave of his hand. You wave back and he doesn’t step into his tent until he hears your tent zipper shut.

He can't stop smiling as he walks into his tent, and the thought of what just happened has him feeling quite excited. He has no idea what the future has in store for you two, but he's got a feeling you’re going to become good friends.

******

Ok, not gonna lie: I'm really proud with how this story is going. Now, things have changed between Ezra and Rookie. Should we start placing bets on who caves first??? Anyway, that’s it, thanks a million, hope you all enjoyed, and see you in the next one!

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Read Chapter 6: It’s Nice to Have a Friend!

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

prompt: crowley telling aziraphale he loves him for the first time

You mean the last fifteen minutes of- *gun cocks*

Right!

Alrighty, let's do something... different! Something less soul crushing!

Think of this as something possible for the hypothetical season three, with vague stuff related to what we know about the plot.

On with the fic!

--

"This is... familiar." Aziraphale spoke as he took the bottle from Crowley, sitting on the tarmac, feeling completely and utterly drained from the events of the past... well...

"Yep." Crowley replied and leaned back on his hands, his shades gone, his hair a mess, probably feelings just like Aziraphale did.

"The world, the universe, is safe once more. Everything is over, and we can go back to normal." Aziraphale drank from the bottle, oh, how he missed wine. Heaven was so annoying about it.

Crowley didn't reply for a moment, then his sighed out his next words. "Yeah. Normal." He moved to stand on unsteady feet. "Guess you'll be goin' back, eh?"

"Back to where?"

"Heaven." Crowley said, the word said in such a way that Aziraphale could taste the bitterness on his own tongue. "Supreme Archangel and all, eh? Still gotta go up there and sort everythin' out."

Aziraphale licked his bottom lip, looking at the bottle in his hand. "I don't think that title suits me."

"Why not? Not fussy enough for you?" Aziraphale deserved that bite, but he glowered at Crowley anyway.

"Crowley, I think it's very clear that I am no longer anything to Heaven other than a traitor and a fired angel!" He was on his feet and now in the demon's face. "I gave up Heaven when all of this started, when He finally arrived in that stupid plane, and all this... this... malarkey happened!"

Crowley mouthed the word 'malarkey', but Aziraphale pressed on. "I am no longer with Heaven, I stopped when I realized that they were going to get that blasted war one way or another! That they were going to use their last resort and take out the whole universe! And in doing so, that obviously gave them the upper hand by cheating!

I didn't want that! Any of that, no wonder Gabriel ran away, it's horrible, it's the worst possible option! I thought humans made that all up for the Bible, but apparently Heaven loved the idea just as much as Hell really got into Dante's ideas of nine levels of, well, Hell!"

Aziraphale inhaled sharply and then breathed out slowly. "I came back, Crowley. I came back to save Earth, to save the universe, and..."

"And?" Crowley asked, voice quiet.

"And I came back to apologize." Aziraphale closed his eyes, head bowed. "I hurt you, I know I did. I kept tabs on you all this time because I worried about you so much. Muriel would tell me things, and you... I should have come to see you, at least, in person. Or at least when you were awake."

Crowley's breath hitched. "You came to see me?"

"A few times, when Heaven didn't have me doing so much paperwork and wasn't breathing down my neck." Aziraphale shifted, his hands wringing. "I had to see you, but only when you didn't see me. Crowley, oh, I missed you so much, I was such a fool! You were right."

"Right about what?"

"When we had that fight, before the bookshop burned. You said I was someone who is so clever and yet so stupid. I made a huge mistake when I chose Heaven over you."

Aziraphale looked up and Crowley was staring, his eyes wide. "I understand if you can't forgive me, for leaving you, hurting you, and... for rejecting our side. You're right, it had always been us, and I tried to see if I could make it work... in a way to fix Heaven. Which was wrong, it can't be fixed. And you don't need to be an angel again! You're still you, angel, demon, you're Crowley, and damnit! I should have thought of that the moment you confessed!"

Crowley was silent, but he swallowed. "And you're still you, Principality, Archangel, even frumpy bookseller, you're still Aziraphale and you're still my best friend."

There was a tightness in Aziraphale's chest as he looked into those golden eyes. "Crowley...?"

"I should be angry and bitter and furious and full of hate, but Aziraphale, I could never hate you. I was hurt, yes, but you and I have been through so much together, and you just... you fighting alongside me to save everything. When you took my hand as we thought it was all coming to and end..."

He reached out and took Aziraphale's hands. "I forgave you."

Aziraphale took the other hand, and stepped closer. "You do?"

"Course I do. I always do, and you always forgive me." Crowley mumbled, his cheeks a bit pink. "I can't hate you, Aziraphale. I never have, even through all our darker times. And this was a really dark time. The crazy things you do when you love someone, yeah?"

They both stopped and stared right at one another. "Love?" Aziraphale asked, his voice just barely a whisper.

"Don't make me say it..." Crowley grumbled. "I thought I made it clear when we-"

"Please." Aziraphale squeezed his hands, taking another step closer. "Please, just... just stay it."

Crowley swallowed, nodding. "Aziraphale, angel, I... I love you. And I have for a very, very long time."

"Since when?"

"Eden. When you gave away your sword."

Aziraphale smiled softly. "I knew I felt a wave a love then."

Crowley snorted and leaned forward, his face hidden in Aziraphale's shoulder and neck. "Don't say that, that's embarrassing!"

"It's sweet!" Aziraphale laughed, even though tears were coming down his cheeks. He felt lighter than he had in ages and so full of joy. "Oh, oh Crowley, I love you too. You have no idea how long I've wanted to tell you!"

Crowley twitched against him, face still hidden as he asked "You really love me?"

"I have for ages, for... oh, I have no idea how long."

Since you were that beautiful, smiling angel talking about the stars, since you slithered up on the Wall to chat after the apple ordeal.

They held each other, standing right there together as the world continued on without the risk of a holy and unholy war.

--

Hand holding and hugs, those are good.

[noxexistant]

Thinking about the implications of Oscar and Morris having been abandoned, but Race knows their father works for the trolley company. Oscar doesn't try to deny it so it's not exactly a secret, but I don't get the vibe it's something they'd openly talk about either.

oh my god i think about this ALL THE TIME

like, how did race know? why did race know? and why did he know to bring it up specifically to antagonise oscar?

it’s one of my more firm headcanons that “delancey” is not the brothers’ real last name, so that removes the obvious connection race (and the other newsies) could’ve made with a “[blank] delancey” working for the trolleys. so, consider:

race saw the brothers soaking the trolley workers.

he’s seen loitering around a lot in various scenes, notably reading one of his papes and smoking on a balcony when jack and davey are first selling together, and he runs when he sees snyder. i like to think this, y’know, means something, it’s something race intentionally does. he hangs around and sees what he can overhear, what he can see.

so, race is out late, skulking and loitering to get his first claim at the gossip mill - information’s valuable, if he finds anything good he’ll be able to sell it for papes or money or food or favours - and he hears the commotion from where the striking trolley workers are stationed. he knows better than to walk over on the street lest he get caught up in it, so he clambers up to a roof with a decent vantage point and watches, peeking over the edge.

there aren’t many trolley workers left still out this late, but there’s a group of them, and it’s all in utter chaos now as they wrangle with two smaller figures swinging at them like their lives depend on it. the delanceys. morris has a bat, race can see the glint of oscar’s brass knuckles occasionally catching the light. the blood on the street and alley walls catches the light too, though in the night it looks more black than red. like ink. splattering all their surroundings and the delanceys themselves.

they’re largely silent and efficient, dead cold like they usually are even when faced with the frantic hollering and shouting from the men they’re beating to the ground, but when they’ve all been subdued, oscar turns his attention to a man they’d apparently singled out. he’s been slumped on the floor most of the time the brothers were fighting the rest, but now he’s scrambling back, cornered against the wall by oscar. morris is hanging back.

“been a while, huh?” oscar says conversationally. race strains to hear, brows furrowing. “bet ‘m bigger’n you remember.”

the man says nothing. oscar grabs one of the dropped bats from the ground and strikes the wall beside the man’s head, so hard and rough the wood splinters against the brick.

“or you don’ remember? huh? you need me to let you know? who am i? who am i, pa?”

the man’s still silent. he tries to climb to his feet, but oscar kicks him hard in the chest and knocks him right back down, knocking a haggard wheeze out of him.

“i’m your goddamn son, you lousy son of a bitch! oscar, yeah? you named me. an’ then you didn’t do much else, ‘cept drink and holler and beat my little brother an’ fuckin’ leave!”

there’s a beat of silence.

“beat you too,” the man finally speaks, voice low and croaking. oscar hits him directly in the face, and even from the rooftop race can hear the crack of his nose breaking. morris staggers back, his bat falling to the ground with a wooden clatter, but he freezes entirely like an animal when the man’s gaze snaps to him with the noise.

“don’ you look at him!” oscar shouts, and hits the man again to get his attention back. “you look at me. i’m’onna make you proud, pa. show you everythin’ you ‘n ma taught me ‘bout the world.”

race feels nauseous. nauseous and fascinated. like watching a trolley accident, he can’t tear his gaze away. the man - the delanceys’ father - tries to fight back, but oscar fights dirty and don’t give him one chance. he beats him ‘til he can’t even lift himself up, and only then does he look over his shoulder.

“mo,” he says, breathless. rough, but also too gentle for the blood soaking him. “c’mere. your turn.”

morris shakes his head. oscar goes over to him then, like there ain’t a man laying half-dead, and their conversation’s too soft for race to hear but it seems to convince morris. they walk back to their father with their hands linked, and with his free hand oscar picks up the bat and hands it to morris’ empty palm.

“say hi to ‘im, mo.” oscar kicks the man in the chest again. “pa - ‘s’morris, see? alive an’ strong an’ worth more than you’ll ever be.”

“hi, papa,” morris says quietly. oscar squeezes his hand and releases it, then squeezes an arm briefly around morris’ shoulders too as he brings both hands to the bat and finds his grip.

“make ‘im sorry, mo. make ‘im regret it.”

morris raises the bat.

race leaves, but not quick enough to not hear that first hit.

[saintsir4n]

9. BETRAYAL

WARNING: VIOLENCE, GUNS AND BLOOD

"YOU bastard!" Carson pushed him back. She didn't stop, she kept pushing and shoving, sobbing as she did so. Brian let her, watching with glistening eyes, feeling her pain, sadness and distress pound against his chest. "I hate you!" It wasn't the truth and they both knew it.  Brian gently caught her grasp, but she shoved him off, "Get off of me, Brian!"

"Sonny! Carson," he said quieter, ignoring the onlookers. "Everythin' I said about you was real. About us, I would never lie about that."

She let out a yell, "You're lyin'. That's what you do, it's what they do. You all lie."

"I swear to God I'm not. You have to believe me," he tried, but she angrily shook her head, lip quivering and body trembling with heartbreak. "Please, you have to believe me, Sonny. But right now, this isn't about you and me," he said, not realising the power behind his words. "Dom's  out there and he's about to pull a job and we're runnin' out of time." Carson didn't want to listen but he left her no choice,  "Those truckers, they're not layin' down anymore. And you know, maybe they'll make it out tonight, but every single law enforcement agency in California's coming down on 'em." and just like that, Carson tensed up. "If you don't want anythin' to happen to Dom, to Letty, to Leon, to Vince," more tears coated her face and Brian wanted nothing more than to wipe them away."

Carson looked down, head pounding with all this new information, trying to decipher the real from the fake. She couldn't look at him, she couldn't stand to be around him. If only she listened before, to Vince, to Leon, hell even Keelie had prior convictions about the guy and she ignored it.

It's like Brian knew what she was thinking, "You have to just get in that car with me right now. You have to help me. Sonny –" he dropped her nickname when he was met with a harsh glare. "You are the only person that can help me right now. Please. Please, help me."

And that's how Carson ended up in Brian's car, looking everywhere else as he sped down the road. Mia wasn't in danger, she was going to Keelie's and that was one less person she had to worry about. Jesse was missing and the rest of the team were –

"Carson," Brian pressed pulling her out of the wave of worry she was drowning in.

"Civics are stashed somewhere outside of Thermal," she informed, voice dry and raspy from all the crying. He winced after hearing her speak.

It added to his guilt.

She stared down at the map with eyes bloodshot, making her wish she still had her glasses but they went along with his cover.

"And they wouldn't double back, and Highway 10's just way too well patrolled." Brian replied, glancing between her and the empty road, "So, what does that leave us with then?"

"That leaves us with all of this," she managed to reply, briefly holding up the map for him to see just as he reached for his phone, dialling a number and pressing it to his ear.

"Yeah, this is Officer Brian O'Conner," he announced, making Carson flinch and look away. It sounded like poison. His name was fake, she realised. "Serial number 34762. I need a cell phone trace. Carson, what's the cell number?" he didn't receive an answer, he could see the tears in her eyes. She was surprised she had any left. "Come on, Carson. She needs Dom's cell phone number now."

Carson scoffed, snatching the phone from his hand, much to his shock and uttered the number, "323-555-6439."

Brian wished he could've explained it all differently, but there was no time, "Thank you." he sighed when she tossed the phone back to him, he pressed it to his ear again, "Yeah, you get that?"

Carson tossed her head back, wishing, or needing it all to be a dream. She tried blocking out his voice as the phone rang again but it was impossible.

So when he hung up, he carefully took the map from her lap, "Let me see this." His eyes darted between it and the road a few times. "All right, I think we're about 40 miles away."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Carson asked, if she was going to have to listen to his voice, she wanted to at least get answers. So when he didn't say anything she repeated, "What are you gonna do?" she let out a humourless laugh when he remained silent, staring ahead as he sped down the road. "Okay, if you won't answer that, listen to this. All the calls you took in private. All the questionin', the secrecy, the intense mood swings, look I knew there was somethin' wrong. I felt it in my gut, but I put it aside and ignored it because I starting to love... Shit, I was fallin' for you."

His mouth gaped and his heart swelled, "Love?"

He sounded so hopeful and she happily put an end to that.

"Loved... it's past tense now you fool," she snapped. God she hadn't been this angry in years and Brian felt the full force of that anger, he couldn't hide. He was defenceless against his... ex-girlfriend, "You used me, you were usin' me this entire time, I'm so naive to think that you could ever love me."

His grip on the wheel tightened, "Baby, I do, I love you, these feelings are real, I didn't think it would happen."

She snapped her head towards him, "Fuck you." She completely disregarded his confession. He was lying, everything he says is a lie.

"That's not what I meant," he tried, heart beating out of its chest. "The time we spent together, was more than enough to show me how much I care about you, how much I was fallin' in love with you. I mean fuck, even my boss could see it."

After punching one of his co-workers in the face due to the derogatory way they spoke about Carson made it clear to his sergeant and captain that he was in way too deep.

The Baker racer just couldn't believe him, not about something as serious as love.

"Hurtin' you was never my intention," he exclaimed, gutted that they were losing what they had. "It was the last thing I wanted."

"Nah, but it was still on your list right?" She mumbled, scoffing as she watched the dark roads breeze by. "You had another life, you have another life, it might not be some white picket fence, but it's a badge and another name."

The only thing stopping his head from bowing in shame was the tinge of light immersing through the night.

"The raid on Tran's house, that was you right?"  Brian wordlessly nodded, annoyed at the mention of the man. Carson couldn't believe it. "So what? You and you're pigs weren't gonna stop until we were all behind bars?" she didn't want an answer to that. "Officer O'Conner... are you incapable of tellin' the truth? All those calls you were gettin', they were your little cop friends right?" she shook her head, lie after lie after lie. And to think she was comfortable sleeping with him, beside him and it was all part of the game, his role. "I can't believe you."

"Everything you feel, or felt is what I feel. It was real, what we have is real. You don't have to believe anythin' else but believe that please."

His pleading was nothing to her, even though she wanted so much to forget everything and restart she couldn't. He betrayed her. The team. The family.

"Vince was right, Keke knew somethin' was up with you..." and just when he went to argue, she spat out, "Just drive and save my family, that's the least you can do."

They soon reached northbound 86, night bled until dusk. Down the road, Carson noticed several vehicles. Panic coursed through her, seeing the semi-truck with black cars in front and behind it.

"Shit," she cursed as the black car stopped and Brian sped up, pulling up next to the truck, and that's when she saw Vince, hanging from the side, arm caught in a thread of wire, while a fresh bullet wound gaped open. "Oh my God!"

"Here," Brian said, about to hop out of the window, "Take the wheel." She didn't hesitate and took it, so worried so she did what she was told. "Put your foot on the gas. I'm gonna get him. Put your foot on the gas!"

"Okay, okay!" Carson yelled, leaning over, placing her foot on the gas as she took control from the passenger seat. It was an awkward angle for her.

"Come on Carson. Keep it steady," she heard him.

"Okay, got it!" Carson tried not to panic more and stayed composed, seeing through her peripheral as Brian couched on the frame of the door.

Vince was injured and she couldn't let him down not when she allowed Brian in.

"Hey, he's havin' a hard time holdin' on!" Brian shouted. "Get me a little closer!"  Carson drifted. "Closer!"

"I am!"

"Hold it right there!"

"Go!" Carson shouted and Brian threw himself onto the side of the truck. She used it as a chance to slip into the driver's seat. She took a peek to see the blonde firmly holding onto the truck. Hearing him shout at Vince wasn't comforting even if it helped him get his hand free.

Brian held up his body.

Carson hadn't been this scared since her father passed.

"Carson, come a little closer!" she shifted the car, a little shakily this time. "Carson, get closer!" she did, eyes pooling with tears, "Come on! Come on, Vince! Here we go!"

Vince was suddenly thrown on top of the car, somehow Carson extended his arm and helped him slide into the passenger seat, whimpering when he held onto his bleeding side.

"It's okay, you're already V –" A gunshot ripped through the air, cutting off Carson's reassurance. It happened just as Brian jumped onto the car, gripping the windshield as the truck rammed into the side making Carson lose control, drawing it to a halt on the side of the dusty road. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

She panted, completely stunned by what happened, she tried comforting Vince but he was mumbling to himself, going in and out of consciousness.

Brian rushed over to the driver's side, throwing open the door and checking Carson for any injuries, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked desperately, worried that she wasn't speaking, only blinking in a slight daze.

Brain cupped her face, and his touch brought her back as did the sound of Vince's groan.

She rushed out, pushing past the blonde, they helped Vince out of the car and further out so they were surrounded by the desert-like ground.

"You're okay," she breathed out, trying to convince Vince as well as herself. "It's gonna be okay," she repeated. Brian wrapped his wound with his belt, trying to apply pressure just as a black car came to a halt with Leon, Letty, and Dom. The guys got out, and Leon stayed to check on Letty, leaving Dom to rush over to Vince. "You're gonna be okay."

Carson didn't even feel her zip-up hoodie being removed, she only saw it around the wound, soaking up the blood that was now on her hands.

"Come on, Vince!" Brain shouted, "Hang in there. Come on!"  Dom dropped to his knees beside him, casting a fearful look at Carson as she kept muttering the same thing over and over again. "If we don't get him an ambulance in ten minutes, he's dead." The blonde's gaze darted over to Carson, "Hey, Carson. Sonny," Brian had to yell, snapping her out of her trance and putting her hands onto the belt and hoodie, holding it in place. "Hold this, Just like that. Don't let go. Hold his arm."

"Vincent please, just hold on!" Carson choked back her sobs.

Dom was doing everything he could to help but Vince started coughing.

Brian pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah. Yeah, this is Officer Brian O'Conner." Dom turned to him instantly, face slapped with betrayal as he stared in shock. Brian apologetically held eye contact with Dom as he continued. "I'm off-duty L.A.P.D. I need a Life Flight rollout right away. My 20 is, uh, Highway 86, mile marker 147."

Dom knew it was true from Carson's tear-stained cheeks and the heartbreak tattooed on her face.

Brian held his phone with his shoulder, grabbing onto Vince's arm once again. "I got one trauma victim, about 24 years of age. Six feet, maybe 200 pounds." Dom couldn't look away, disgusted and angry by what was revealed. "He's got a real deep laceration to his right arm with arterial bleeding."

When Vince began convulsing, only then did Dom turn back to him, hoping that he would pull through.

"He's gotta -- a shotgun wound. Close range to his left flank. Yeah. Yeah, and he's going into shock." Brian hung up, aiding the injured guy.

Carson looked up, shakily sighing when a helicopter neared in the sky.

Minutes passed and Vince was strapped onto a stretcher moving him quickly to the helicopter, with Brian's help.

Carson stood afar, motionless with the memories of the night flashing through her mind. Leon pulled up with Letty and Dom started walking toward the car.

It was then that Brian stared at her, pleadingly, but she cast him a pained look and shook her head, it hurt her to do so, but he hurt her even more.

So when Dom shouted for her to get in the car, she did it without regret.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

a/n:

this has got me crying alongside carson. (ignore how long their relationship was. let's say it was a month or so) and i feel like you can fall in love in just that short space of time. lmaoo, i catch feelings after an interaction. carson and brian were love, but it's unfortunate it had to be this way.

and although what they had was cute, he was lying to her and had been since the very beginning. she knew something was wrong, it was her gut feeling and her dad told her to never ignore that.

we've got one more chapter left, i hope you have enough tissues for that.

-

[sunnyie-eve]

6 | Not glad to be back

Series: A Zombie's Serenity 

Paring: Zed Necrodopolis x OFC Buchanan!

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Might be a few mistakes, and I'm using Brenna D'Amico as how the OC's looks

| MASTERLIST |

~~~

"So how is things in Seabrook?" I ask as my mom drives us home. 

"Different. Things changed for zombies. Maybe we were a little too hard on them. They aren't that bad. Plus we're getting rid of all our anti monster laws so Zombietown is open to everyone." She tells me and my jaw drops. "We were gonna bring you home way earlier but Bucky said you still needed to learn a lesson." She huffs. I was dumbfounded about everything. "He did say you're welcome to join the Cheer Squad again but you are missing Cheer camp right now." She lets me know. 

"I don't know if want to." I tell her. 

"That's okay. I don't want to force you." She smiles at me and I was wonder if this was actually my mother.

When I get home I get settled in and decide to walk to Zombietown. Things really have changed because everyone walking together, laughing, and playing around. "Serenity!" My name is yelled and I find to see Eliza. 

"I'm back!" I throw my arms up. 

"Thank god!" She runs over to me.

"Where's Bonzo and Zed?" I ask her. 

"Umm... Bonzo is at cheer camp and Zed is making a big deal asking Addison to Prawn..." She makes a face. 

"Oh..." I awkwardly laugh. 

"She kinda made it her mission to get Zed to like her like she likes him. They aren't like boyfriend and girlfriend though... it's like a very early stage still because he can't bring himself to go there." She tries to explain.

"But they're still technically together." I sigh. 

"She helped make all this happen then she hung around Zed more and well..." Eliza places her hand on my shoulder. 

"I'm not surprised. It's whatever." I shrug my shoulders. 

"How quick was it though? That's what matters to me." I ask her and she makes a face. 

"Awfully quick. Especially with Bucky telling Addison your parents weren't bringing you back this year. So she would tell us so Zed gave in losing hope in you coming back." She explains to me. 

"Of course Bucky would lie so when I got back I would be upset." I laugh. 

"I'm sorry. I tried." Eliza hugs me. 

"It's okay." I hug her back.

My phone goes off and it was my parents telling me to get to the town hall so I do and I see mainly the cheer squad and a few others. "Serenity, your back home." Zed's dad walks past me then comes back. 

"I just got back." I smile before he goes to Zed, who hasn't seen me. 

I notice Zoey see me and she jumps up running over to me, "You're back! You're back!" She tackles me with a hug. 

"What's going on?" I ask. 

"Addison saw werewolves." She pulls out of the hug. 

"Zoey, don't bother Serenity with too many hugs." Zevon says making Zed's head snap our direction. 

"You're back!" He jumps up running over to me. He picks me up and spins us around. "I heard you weren't coming back." He puts me down. 

"Bucky lied to your girlfriend so." I smile making his face drop. "Don't worry, Eliza caught me up."

"We aren't dating. I'm not dating Addison though." He tells me. 

"But you're seeing her. It's okay, Zed. You ended up developing feelings for her. I'm not surprised." I go sit by my parents and Bucky sees me. 

"Welcome sis." He gives me a hug. 

"Bucky." I hug him back. 

As Addison and her parents come in Bucky goes over to them then Aunt Missy says anti monster laws were back in place. "Yeah, Seabrook changed." I roll my eyes. 

"Serenity." Addison gives me a hug when she sees me. 

"Yeah, don't." I move away. 

"You okay?" She asks me. 

"I really don't want to talk to you right now. Sorry." I get up to walk home.

"What's wrong?" She follows me. 

"Don't play dumb, Addie. I understand you liked him first but what you did is super low." I laugh at her. 

"You're mad at me because Zed developed feelings for me?!" She asks shocked. 

"But you knew we had something. I didn't just leave because I wanted to." I say as Bucky comes to check on us.

"Everything okay?" He asks. 

"No, because you told her lies and she gets to steal the boy I like. You were just jealous because he liked me first. For once in my life, I got to be first and not you. The start was when grandma told me you were more special than me at such a young age..." I try not to cry in front of them so I walk off.

I take a shortcut through Zombietown and while I was wiping my tears away I bump into someone. "I'm sorry." I look up to see one of the workers who looked really young. 

"You're hair..." He looks at it. 

"Yeah. Born with it. Excuse me. Sorry for bumping into you." I keep walking home. 

At home I stay in my room wanting to be alone. "Serenity." Bucky opens my door.

"I didn't say come in nor did you knock." I sit up in my bed. 

"I know how you feel about grandma. She told me the same thing when I was younger. That's what pushed me to make me be all about me." He gives me a sad smile. 

"I think you went overboard with yourself." I laugh at him. 

"I'm sorry for lying. I know you think it's because I wanted to hurt you but I wanted to keep you safe. Zombies are unpredictable because they're monsters." He tells me. 

"They may be monsters but they aren't bad."

"If it makes you feel any better... Zed still has stupid feelings for you. The Acey's saw him asking Addison about you in the letters he sent her. Not many showed he has strong feelings towards her compared to hers to him. But I'm still gonna watch you." He leaves me room making me laugh. Of course I still liked Zed but he did develop feelings for her and I'm not gonna try to win him back. He made up his mind and I respect that even if it breaks my heart.

"So are you going to join the squad? Since I'm running for class president, the captain spot is open." Bucky says as we walk side by side before JC joins us. 

"I'm gonna pass. I still love cheerleading don't get me wrong but when I like it as a fun hobby. It's not as fun when you, mom, and dad forced me to do it." I explain to him. 

"You know how much I love cheer... You would've have been a great captain but if you feel forced and it makes you hate it, I understand. We can't have no cheer haters in our house." He says making me smile. "Okay, I'm thinking the student president should get his own corner office. Let's see if we can move out the math department. Write that down." He tells JC. "Addison! Time to officially nominate me as president." He shouts her name across the way making her, Zed and Eliza to look over. 

"Oh Bucky boy." I laugh at him and walk away to go to my locker.

"You gonna join the squad to try to get captain now that you don't have to pick a side?" Zed leans against the lockers next to me. 

"Nope. Since I quit last year, I don't feel the pressure to make my family happy. Plus my mom understands so does my dad and even Bucky. I still love to do it in my free time but I don't feel the need to be part of the squad." I explain to him. 

"You're family has come a long way." He laughs. 

"Something good did come out of me being sent away. I got a family I can finally work with." I laugh closing my locker. 

"You excited for Prawn?" He follows me as I start to walk. 

"I'm not going. I'm not big on school dances. Sorry you can't go with Addison since the anti monster laws are back in place." I keep my head forward. 

"I tried asking her but I got hit by the bus so it interrupted me." He tells me. 

"That's your fault for being in the middle of the street. Bye."

"Serenity..." He sighs my name. 

"Huh?" I turn to face him. 

"I'm glad your back. I really am." He smiles some. 

"Cool... I'm not really." I turn to leave walking away fast bumping into Eliza. "Sorry." I rush off to the bathroom. I look into the mirror and laugh at myself, "You're not gonna cry over a boy, Serenity. You're to good for that." I tell myself before Eliza walks in. 

"You okay?" She walks over to me. 

"Truthfully no but I'm gonna lie and say yes." I turn to face her. 

"Addison can tell Zed's acting different with her now that you're back. She flirts and he brushes it off." She tells me. 

"You can tell him stop. I don't want to come between what they have now. I would but I'd either be really rude about it or cry. No in between." I tell her the truth. 

"Come on. He's trying to run for president too." She walks us out.

"Okay, are there any more nominations for president? Just a reminder that being part of student council means that we get to hang. Anybody, anybody want to hang? Just... anyone want to hang out? Anyone? Oh, we can could come up with our very own complicated high five. That's be fun, huh? Like..." Principal Lee finally stops talking so the bands starts to play. 

Bucky's banner comes down and we cheer for him. "If he wants my brother, I wouldn't cheer for him." I make Eliza laugh. 

"Great news. We have a brilliant and cheer tasted candidate running for president this year. Me!" People chant his name till Zed comes tumbling down the steps. "Bucky! Woo!" Zed shoves Bucky aside making me laugh.

"Zombie strong! Hello everyone. My name is Zed, and I am running for president." He says making Addison happy. 

Bucky complains so Addison says anyone can run making Principle Lee agree. "What?" He whines making me laugh as he follows her. 

"Okay! If you vote for me, I will promise you prosperity and awesomeness!" We all cheer and chant his name. "As your president, I will make Seabrook a place to embrace zombies and..." Bree cuts in. 

"Werewolves." She points back. 

"Uh, no. Why would we want... Werewolves!" Zed points and screams.

Zed gets the football team to act as a barrier while a werewolf asks Addison about the moonstone. "I think you've got the wrong person." Addison tells her while Zed tells Eliza no smashing their Z-Bands because that aren't monsters. 

"Our razor sharp claws will gut 'em and splatter their blood." One girl says making everyone gasp. "Too much?" She looks at the two next to her. 

"Turn it down just a tad." I tell her and Addison hits me with her pompom. 

"Sorry. We werewolves so admire your town, and we just came to join your school." The main girls says confusing everyone. 

"What? They can't join our school." Bucky speaks up. 

"Technically the Forbidden Forest is within the school district." Coach says. 

"So, welcome to Seabrook!" I tell the werewolves and they smile.

[isaacapatow]

with @clintbennet | the prom : the roads to addiction converge in redwood

ike apatow: -as much as ike's exhilarated by crowds and parties, everyone needs a breather, and he spots somebody who might need the same thing, making his way over to Clint- Hey there, bayou -- feel like talking a stroll with me to recharge? That corner of the garden's nice. There's little flowers I don't know the name of but they taste good if you eat 'em and nobody's looking.

Clint Bennet: -Brows raise over his cup as he takes a sip and notices Ike approaching him. He laughs into the whiskey at the nickname Ike gave him.- What, yer batteries runnin' low already?  -He teased, lowering the cup and letting it hang from his fingertips at his side as he approached ready to join him. His head cocks at the description of the flower- Is Mayra growin' honeysuckle in there? * -He guessed-*

ike apatow: Beats me. Maybe you can identify it for me. -Ike lifts his chin to point in the direction- These things are fun but I'm a little, ah ... contentious. Sometimes. With some folks.

Clint Bennet: I can try, but I'll probably git it wrong. -He admits, walking beside Ike to their destination. He takes a seat on the edge of one of the raised beds.- Really? -He questions, surprise in his voice.- Hard t'imagine anyone ruffling yer feathers, bossman.

ike apatow: -he tongues at the still-raw bite that Lucien had left on the inside of his bottom lip, tasting the blood there- You'll learn that about me, Clint -- I can piss off even the mildest dove. It's a gift. Maybe a gag gift, but a gift.

Clint Bennet: -He eyes the other noticing the unease about him.-Don't doubt that. I like you, but I can see ya bein' an acquired taste. -another small sip- M'surprise is you bein' bothered, not you botherin' others. Can't imagine anyone gittin' under that skin of yers.

ike apatow: Do I seem that way? Like I don't care what people think?

Clint Bennet: Carin' n' lettin it git t'you are two different things. I think you care, I just didn't think it would cause ya stress. Does it cause you stress?

ike apatow: -regards Clint for a few moments, a slight smile on his lips- I think it does cause me stress, yeah. Any guesses as to why?

Clint Bennet: -Watches the other, his question leaves him perplexed. A million different reasons pass through his mind but none of them seem to fit Ike. He gives a shrug of his shoulders in defeat.- 'm learnin' everythin' I assume about ya couldn't be further from th' truth. Why don't ya just tell me why.

ike apatow: -shrugs back, a little slumped and slow- I dunno, kid. Right now I feel like I can't trust my own perception of myself much.

Clint Bennet: -rests his forearms on his knees, not used to seeing the other man like this, he almost seems defeated in himself. He's not used to seeing this larger than life man so down, Clint's expression becomes serious, brows knit together in concern for the other.- What's yer perception of yerself now?

ike apatow: -a little sharply- I just fucking said I don't ... -he catches himself, with a slightly apologetic twitch of his mouth at Clint- I would drag you to the pond and hold you under for a rail of coke right at this moment.

Clint Bennet: -Lips formed a thin line at Ike's sudden sharp reaction at first but quicky relaxed. Despite his words, Clint didn't take Ike's words personally. In fact he breathed out a small laugh out of his nose at the thought of Ike holding him under the water.- That would be worth more than coke, let's make it horse instead. -He stands- I feel like ya need more space than this, I can't hear shit n' I can still hear th'bass of th'music. Unless y'wanna eat some flowers, do ya wanna go somewhere else... Maybe not near th'lake right now.

ike apatow: -nods, without much opposition- Sure. -his curiosity does spike a little through the other stuff, the prospect of Clint deciding what they should do or where they should go- You have somewheres you wanna take me?

Clint Bennet: -he thinks about it for a moment-Not anyplace in particular. Know that when I need space, walkin' helps, otherwise I feel trapped. Unfortunately our space is a lil limited, but laps exist fer a reason.* -He glances over to the other-* Y'sound like y'got a lot on yer mind. Know in yer past y'were used t'the tables bein  turned, but I wanna help, if ya wanna git it out, I'll listen.

ike apatow: No, I'm ... -gestures vaguely as they start to walk- Not good at just talking. I'm good at answering. I know, that sounds ridiculous, given what I'm like, but it's true.

Clint Bennet: 'snot ridiculous. It makes sense, keeps focus. -He responds before he glances up trying to think of a question to ask, getting right into it might be a little too much, start from the start, the first thing that got him upset in the first place- Y'said there were folks y'weren't gettin' along with. What about 'em is stressin' you out?

ike apatow: -grunts in assent to this, finding it a good question- The fact that they don't bother to do the work in figuring shit out on their own, I guess. Even when I'm the one who got hurt, they're asking me how they should fix things.

Clint Bennet: -he watches and tries to process Ike's words- So, yer frustrated with them. 's more work on you havin' t'solve the problem they caused, yer feein' lik y'gotta think through that instead of them bein' able t'figure it out n'  think things through. Does it feel like a burden?

ike apatow: Yeah. It feels like a burden and I don't think a lot of people understand how many burdens I got strapped on me at any given time. -gives Clint a cockeyed grin, though it's weary- I make it all look easy.

Clint Bennet: -gives a sad but understanding nod to the other. It makes sense, even he fell into that category with the man.- Y'got a ton on yer plate, riskin life 'n limb fer some canned goods, medicine, things th' community needs fer survival, n'keepin' the other raiders safe. -He confirms- Do y'think you gotta make it all look easy? Fer th'sake of others?

ike apatow: -shakes his head slightly- I think you got a calling in this. Ever think about it? Counselling? -but he can't stall too long and goes back to it, hemming and hawing- It's best if people don't know how hard it is, and what we risk out there. I know everyone's aware of the danger but I don't know how much they'd want us doing what we do if they had a full awareness of what it takes. -grins, of the shit-eating variety- Except me. There's plenty of people here don't care how much I take a lickin'.

Clint Bennet: -he huffs out a laugh, giving his own shake of his head.- Naw, don't think I'm even keeled enough fer that. But you, I think you n' I have enough in common t'understand each other. It's too easy fer us t'get stuck in our own heads. -He stops, watching the other carefully to try and actively catch every word that passes his lips-  Protecting them from th'risks you n' th'others take every time y'go out fer supplies. -Clint might have been more familiar with it than most, working outside security and being on the other side of those walls for so long, he could see how others would lose perspective- Aren't there also plenty a' people that do care when y'get hurt?

ike apatow: Some. I'm not discounting them. They mean a lot to me. -he gnaws on the inside of his bottom lip, inadvertently reopening the marks of Lucien's teeth- Sometimes I think I'm not meant to be here. I don't mean that in, uh, a self-pitying way, or like I'm thinking of offing myself, it's just ... I have misshapen edges. Heroin always smoothed those for me. -eyes Clint for a minute- Y'know what I mean? You know what I mean.

Clint Bennet: I know what you mean... -Clint confirms simply, Ike's words hitting deep within his chest- I don't know how things were fer you... But I remember wanting every hit t'be my last... N' not in th'gettin' clean way either... I wanted t'go out feelin' at peace in whatever form that came, but th'next day, Id be down from th'high and life would hit me like a ton of bricks again up until th'point I got my next hit. -He takes a slow shaky breath-  Th'drugs helped us feel like we were normal... But they're gone now, they're not comin' back, meanin' we're just stuck havin' t'deal with th'shit and everything that comes with it...-His eyes meet Ike's-People are unpredictable, difficult, our edges don't fit 95% of the time, but it doesn't mean you don't fit. You give yer blood, sweat, and tears t'the people here, you don't always have t'pretend like y'don't, that's a dark secret t'hide.

ike apatow: -he sticks his tongue into the corner of his lips, staring thoughtfully at Clint, and then steps closer and pushes his hand into Clint's shaggy hair- You were wrong, When we went on that raid and you told me this stuff about yourself, you made it sound like you hardly understood why you'd gotten hooked, why you were using. But you do, kid. You understand a helluva lot more clearly than I think you understand. -clenches his hand some, tightening his fist in Clint's hair- I don't think I can change anything about this, not for me. And even though I still think about using, I've been clean a long time. It's ongoing but it's not everyday, it's not in spitting distance. You can do better than me. You don't have to have any dark secrets. You shouldn't. -his voice has gotten more and more urgent, darker, intent, matching the look in his eyes-

Clint Bennet: -There seemed to be a moment of calm, Ike stepped closer and Clint didn't understand the reason why, thought maybe there were good intentions, but in the blink of an eye, Ikes fingers were tangled in his hair. He didn't know how to take it, eyes widened in confusion and a touch of fear.- I know why I used. Knew back then too. -There was an attempt to step back but Ike had him firmly in place, stopping him.-Didn't know you from Adam back then--His breath catches in his throat as Ike tightens his grip, pulling at his scalp, but he doesn't raise a hand towards the other, couldn't bring himself to do it.- Why don't  you think y'can change anything fer yerself? What's different this time? -Eyes search the others, recognizing that haze of darkness that brought him back to his childhood- Y'wanna know m'darkest secrets? -He questions through gritted teeth, bringing his hand to the upper arm of the other. Everything in his body told him to stop but part of him only knew it was fair. Ike had shown him a lot of trust and hadn't taken advantage of him, he had shared his own struggles, if he wanted to know, he felt like Clint didn't have a reason to keep it from him-

ike apatow: I don't ... -Ike shakes his head slightly, frustrated at attempting to explain this- I don't think I'm hard to read. My motivations are pretty simple. But people have trouble figuring me out and maybe that's how it should be, maybe that's what makes this all work. Only a handful of people really get me, so, y'know. The rest can build me up or tear me down however they want. It doesn't matter. So long as it serves Redwood. -he loosens his fist slightly when Clint holds his arm, smoothing his thumb over the straw-coloured strands like a soothing pet, like an apology- Tell me. Go on. Tell me your darkest secrets.

Clint Bennet: -his eyes shifted between Ike's eyes and his lips- Used t'think you were hard t'read. People ain't used t'others not having an ulterior motive or dancin' around shit instead of gettin' t'the point, but yer pretty cut n' dry even when yer colorful about it. -he observed-  before the world ended, dancin' 'round shit was the norm, feel like people are still used t' it -eyes met the others- why do you let others tear ya down? -when the other loosened hits grip, Clint could feel his shoulders relax, though his hand remained where it was, it was no longer threatening. Clint's fingertips traced from the man's upper arm, down his forearm and to his wrist, clasping it gently and lowering it away from his scalp, fingers absentmindedly felt the leather of one of Ike's many bracelets as he realized just how he backed himself into this corner - growin' up -he started after a long moment, struggling to organize his thoughts- I didn't really know safety or the feelin' of comfort, forget love. M'old man used m'brother n' I as punchin' bags n' things t'be thrown around whenever the mood struck. Home was... A place t'survive n'escape from but y' always had t'come back because y'had nowhere else t'go. It was m'pops that fucked up m'hearin' as a kid, thought he was gonna kill me. -though his words were clear, there was a sense of numbness in his voice, a disconnect behind his eyes, like he wasn't talking about his experience as if he lived it but was retelling it from an outsider's perspective. After he spoke, he realized his fingers were still loosely wrapped around Ike's wrist. He let go as he seemed to come back into himself. Eyes shifted away from Ike, a mix of shame and frustration showing on his features-  Even after I was taken away from there, I couldn't ever feel safe. The sudden quiet put me in m'head a lot n' I hated it. Started usin' t'escape those dark thoughts n' this ache of not belongin', not deservin' anything other than what I was raised with.

ike apatow: -his eyebrows flicker when Clint asks a million-dollar question- People feel better about their lives if they can be assured there's at least one person who's way worse than them. So hey, if I fit the bill, whatever. Call it a psychological service to the town. I can handle it. -he's not bothered by Clint keeping hold of his wrist, being a person who likes physical contact; it helps when Clint starts talking about how he grew up. Ike listens, gaze scanning over the younger man's face as he relates what he's been through, the cruelties and traumas he's suffered, how he came to have his current disability and how that fed into his substance use- You were pretty much fuckin' trapped in it, huh? And god knows it's hard to tell if it's better or worse to be going through that with a sibling. -once most of the story's out, Clint retreats some, dropping Ike's hand; he lets the other man talk, then reaches out again, to clasp just above Clint's elbow- And how d'you feel now? When it comes to that, not feeling safe. Sometimes it helps, in a fucked-up way, that there's groaners all around, because we can point at 'em and say, that's danger, that's a threat, that needs to be destroyed. And not feel conflicted about it. -pauses, for a few moments- Were you conflicted about your old man, and how you felt about him?

Clint Bennet: -He didn't know how this happened, he was trying to help Ike and now he was on the hot seat, he was feeling exposed and vulnerable, the only saving grace was that this was Ike and not someone else. He gave a nod of his head at Ike's observation with his brother- Everythin' 'cept fer th'cage. Mike, he was able to run off when I was ten. Hurt a lot at th'time, but I came t'understand it pretty quickly. Turned inta envy until I was taken out, I still hope he was able t'find some happiness. -His eyes search Ike's when his hand reaches over and gently grasps his arm. His first instinct is always to pull away but with Ike his free hand reaches over, rests on top of the man's hand, remaining there, something he can ground himself to.- Varies... There's pockets of feelin' good, knowin' the enemy, feelin' secure, it took a long time when I first arrived but now those feelin's will last fer weeks, sometimes a month 'n then some. Then... I don't know, sometimes shit happens, sometimes it's nothin' at all n' I just feel m'self slippin', feel those walls comin' back up. I consider leavin', th'threat don't seem so clear no more, it takes a while t'clear m'head, push that shit back, start thinkin' with sense again. Then I just try t'keep that goin' as long as I can. -Shoulders shrug at the admittance, it's something he had never expressed aloud to even hear himself say. Brows furrow at Ike's question about his feelings about his father.- At first, yeah. Y'know, he was my dad, the person I was supposed to have trust in, the person who kept me n'my brother fed. When I was real small I didn't know what he was doin' was wrong, thought it was normal. Goin' t'school showed me that it wasn't. Told some classmates what was happenin' n' their reaction was all I needed t'know I need t' keep this shit t'm'self.

They kept away from me, like they were scared. My viewpoint changed on him then, he was the monster, th'thing t'hide from... But there was another part 'a  me that thought this must be somethin' I deserve, me n'm'brother, we were bad, we were gettin' punished. -There's a pause as his voice cracks, at this point he felt like he couldn't stop himself- He would tell us that as he beat down on us, we were shitheads, worthless, we were the reason mom left 'n now he was stuck with us, we deserved it all n' then some. -He steps away from Ike now, the pain clear on his face as his eyes well up, he digs the heel of his palm into his forehead.- I ain't conflicted 'bout him. He was a bastard, after I was taken out, I got no idea what happened t'him n' I never wanna know. Woulda rather never been born than t'have t'go through that. -He glances at Ike again wiping his eyes  with a frustrated grunt- Fuck, Ike... This was supposed t'be 'bout you... Yer not th'town  punchin' bag. Y'don't deserve it. Just 'cause y'can handle it don't mean y'should have to. Yer a good man, Ike, fuck th'people who can't see that.

ike apatow: That's a pretty generous view to take, for your brother's sake. Lots of people never reach that point. -Ike can tell he's pushing against Clint's boundaries some, touching his arm, but when the other man puts his hand over Ike's, it's a good sign- Yeah. Even with things in Redwood being basically the Four fuckin' Seasons compared to other survivor settlements out there, it still sometimes gets bad inside. Inside your head, inside, I mean. I feel it too. But that's always been what it's like for me and it might be always like that for you too, man. There's a reason we call ourselves addicts even after being sober longer than we were using. -Clint shifts from the general, talking about day-to-day life, back to his father and it's about as ugly as it could be, driving Clint to have to put some space between them to keep himself from shaking apart- That's good. That you know how you feel about your dad, that he doesn't have a grip on you anymore. Even if it still fucks you up, it's clear-cut, and I dunno, maybe it sounds simplistic but in my book? Anything that you can be clear-cut about, it's one less thing that'll trip you up when you're dealing with all the rest. 

-but Clint's changing tracks again, looking at Ike more focused on him past the trauma he'd been relating, and Ike shifts slightly, keeping his own discomfort confined to a shrug- What I deserve or don't deserve is a pretty wide fuckin' field, kid. I've done things ... beyond what most people with normal lives ever do. Some things I can't even begin to process and I'd never finish dealing with em. Where I grew up, everything was either penance or duty, and I guess... -Ike stops, his gaze skating past Clint, dotting back and forth before he says, half to himself- Y'know, you're like the fourth? Fifth? person who's made that comparison. The punching bag thing. -he looks at Clint again, before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back slightly, a smile just touching his lips- In the Bible -- I dunno how much you're into the Bible, but I was raised on it -- there were two goats, in the scapegoat story. One of em was straight out sacrificed to the Lord, killed right there on the altar. The other one, it got burdened with all the sins of the people, but it got to go free. Carrying the whole community's sins but it got to live, however it wanted, out in the desert for the rest of its life. The Azazel goat. -he does grin, then- Azazel goat's maybe not so bad a thing to be, compared to the alternative.

Clint Bennet: -He takes Ike's words to heart. The other seemed to completely understand where he was coming from, where he was at, though truth be told, he didn't necessarily feel like his dad didn't still have a grip on him. Maybe not in the way Ike mean it, but he could still hear his dad's voice, his words clear as day echoing through his mind in he quiet hours of the night, it wasn't unusual for him to wake and see his dad's figure standing in the room, just barely out of reach, he still had night terrors where he would only wake once he had thrown himself off the bed and onto the floor. He wasn't sure if he should bring that up, selfishly he wanted the attention off of him, after all Ike was the one he was there for, before his admittance, Ike was the one needing help.- 

Simplistic... Yeah, I can git behind that. Easier t'manage. -His eyes searched the others as he began talking about himself again, mentioning the things he had done, to Clint it seemed like those things put a lot of weight on his mind, like he felt stained by what he had done in his past. There were words that Ike used that caught his attention, penance and duty, they didn't seem like a normal phrase Ike would use, they were too specific and dripping with religious intent but Clint decided to just put a pin on that in his mind, in case it came up again.- There ain't no saints in this world anymore, Ike, they're all long dead. We've all done shit, there ain't no normal person no more. We do shit we don't take any pleasure or pride from, try t'bury it down like it don't affect us because at th'end of th'day we gotta save our own fuckin' hides or the hides of those we care about. -Ike seems to go quiet mentioning the comment about being a punching bag.- Almost like a pattern people notice 'bout you. -A sympathetic smile crosses Clint's features again but seems to drop when Ike focuses on religion, Clint knowing it was important to pay attention.-

-As Ike explained Clint could see the comparison Ike was making about himself, like somehow he deserved it... No more than that, like it was his fate to take on that pain, like some destiny, the shift in his expression almost seemed accepting of it. This time Clint reaches out, takes a step towards the weathered man and grabs his shoulder firmly.- Is that what y'think you are? Like this is somethin' that just needs t'happen? Takin' that shit on is yer responsibility? -He holds Ike's gaze.- Do y'feel like no matter what y'do, that's all people are gonna see you as? That's all yer gonna see yerself as?

ike apatow: Easier to manage. Exactly. -he takes the time to let Clint say his piece, about the questionable deeds that most of them have done in order to survive since the zombie apocalypse, and it's not like Ike fully disagrees, but still there's some part of him that needs to say- There's some things that are objectively evil acts no matter if it's before time or now time, Clint. Nothing's ever gonna erase what I've done and -- I know it's complicated, most of the time when people do fucked up shit it's complicated. That still doesn't take away the harm I caused.

-Clint steps forward, though, after Ike's little parable about the Azazel goat, and his blue eyes are steady and clear when he asks his questions, unwavering with his hand on Ike's shoulder- In its own way? This makes me feel ... better's not the right word, but I haven't found the right word yet. It is penance and I should be paying penance and that -- everything I do, whatever I take on -- it's a slow slow trickle to balance the scales. That's how I see it. If I got weighed against my sins right now I'd be found wanting and there's a long road ahead of me to even just balance it, never mind making up for everything. -Ike shrugs, gaze skidding away from Clint's, up towards the sky- It's fine. I don't feel sorry for myself and I don't have a bad life. This, being here in Redwood doing what I do, it's better than a lot of the places I've been. I got people here who love me, who really love me, and that goes a helluva long way. -his gaze comes down again, settling on Clint- It's the same for you, too, isn't it? Even in the middle of the shitstorm and biters, this is the eye of the hurricane. This is ... safe. Of all the fuckin' things.

Clint Bennet: -Brows knit together in concern and confusion when Ike clarified that he did something he considered evil, again there were those religious undertones that Clint couldn't help but catch on to, he said he was brought up in it, maybe to a more extreme level than Clint had assumed, he got the feeling Ike didn't just go to church every Sunday and have a "choose your own adventure" Bible as a kid. He wondered if that was part of the reason Ike had this type of perspective and outlook about himself.- I git wantin' t'balance th'scale by doin' good things, tryin' t'be better, do better t'make up fer hurtin' people in th'past, cause there's no goin' back n' undoin' that, but- -He pauses for a moment trying to think of how to best phrase his thoughts.- I don't think that gives others th'right t'treat you like shit. That's what worries me, yer not a fuckin' goat from some biblical metaphor or whatever. Yer just a man, that's all any of us are, just people dealin' with our own shit just below th' surface. It don't mean we should bring others down. -His hand slides down to Ike's arm, but he still keeps the contact, his lips draw into a thin line as Ike continues, while Ike's eyes shift upwards, Clint still keeps his gaze on his face, a smile pulling at his lips when Ike mentions how loved he is, the tension releases from his shoulders slightly.- Yer loved Ike, admired, I don't know if this place would be th'same without ya.

-His eyes meet Ike's again. His question seemed so simple, but for Clint it was a little difficult to answer, he couldn't just come out and say yes. He breaks the contact with Ike with a shrug of his shoulders.- Safety, it's kinda like a double edged sword. When yer out there 'n in the shit, fightin' t'survive, y' ain't really got time t'think, yer just tryin' t'make it fer the next hour, th'next day. Here in this safety, y' got all this time t'be with yer thoughts, reflect, deal with them, a lot of th'time it ain't easy. I ain't sayin' I miss bein' out there. -He cocks his head towards the nearest perimeter wall- But, sometimes I miss that feelin' of not bein' stuck in m'head. I don't feel like I've found m'place here yet, I've met some great people, people I care fer deeply, like you, just tryin' t'figure how I fit into it all. -He takes a breath.- Fuck, don't know about you, I could use a cig right about now. -He laughs glancing up at Ike again.- I don't know what y'did in yer past that y'feel stained ya so much n' y'aint ever gotta tell me if y'don't want to, but I'm glad I've met ya, Ike, who you've become, who you are now, I'm real glad fer it. 

ike apatow: Well, kid - these are all great sentiments, and I agree with you, but in real life when things are getting worked out in technicolour in front of a live studio audience? -Ike grins, a little wearily- It's not so clear-cut. If the people treating me like shit were also assholes, that would be one thing. When it's good sweet people who're better than me in all the ways that better gets measured? Call me Billy Goat Gruff. -he shakes his head with an accompanying lift of one shoulder, the grin softening into a smile at Clint as the other man goes on, kind words that Ike lets soak into him- Don't sweat it. I've been through a lot. I can handle this. I always find ways to handle whatever comes down the pike.

-Clint's problem with being in Redwood is a familiar one, and Ike nods, snickering when Clint mentions how good a cigarette would be now- Fuckin' ay, man. But that's the thing about recovery - you're stuck with you, wherever you go. So busy or not, you gotta find some way to live with all the clanging bullshit going on in the ol' noggin. -he reaches over to flick a fingertip against Clint's temple- If it's noisy, too noisy, so much that keeping yourself busy isn't cutting it, come talk to me. I was never anybody's NA sponsor or anything, I don't figure I have the right temperament for it, but I can be a good sounding board. Awright? It'd be good for me too, to be honest.

-the last few comments, delivered so genuine with a double dose of Clint's sky-blue stare, leaves Ike a little quiet for a moment, and then he leans over, balanced on one foot so he can nudge against Clint before going back to standing normally- Thanks. I don't... -he's at a loss, not sure how to respond to Clint's words, and settles on- It's good to know some people made it through all the shit to be here. To be in Redwood in this community we got for ourselves, carving out the new future. I'm glad you're in it too. -he gives Clint one more quick, tight-lipped but genuine smile with his gaze scanning over the other man one more time for good measure, and lopes off back towards the main party-

[purposefully-lost]

Beth took a deep breath and tried not to be obvious about it. Charlie was pressed against her shoulder, waiting with her at the bus stop for the ride that would take her back home. It'd been a struggle to convince him that he didn't need to drive her, she'd be fine taking the bus, but she could still tell that he was itching to do so. It made him antsy whenever any offers of help or a favor were denied; he didn't like feeling like he wasn't doing his part. It was one of the many things that had made him such a good boyfriend.

Her hand clenched and unclenched at her side. She had to do it. If she didn't say something, this was going to keep going on forever, and she wasn't going to do that to either of them. Finding her resolve, she spoke. "So, um. My application got accepted."

"What?" Charlie's attention snapped her. He leaned forward on the bench to better see her face, a grin splitting across his own. "For real?"

She could've laughed. It was exceedingly difficult not to. Beth nodded for him. "For real."

"Holy shit!" Before she could saying anything else, he threw an arm around her and pulled her tight to his side. Charlie laughed as rested his head against hers, his giddiness palpable in the way he gave her a small squeeze. "Fuck yeah! I knew you'd get it. What'd I tell you?" He let go her just so he could look at her. He did look very happy. He'd been her biggest cheerleader from the start, and that made it all the worse that she was about to shatter his poor heart. She felt her chest tighten while she watched him prattle on. "So that means you're movin' upstate, right?" He asked, pausing briefly before he seemed to just forge ahead past his own reservations. "We're gonna have to get your shit together soon! I'll ask dad if he'll let me borrow the truck. And we've gotta get stuff for your dorm and everythin'. Maybe when Chris goes shoppin' for his new place, we could tag along? And-"

"Charlie, we need to- to talk, actually." She could've winced as she said it. He paused, his expression dipping to something more concerned as he looked at her.

"What about?"

"About, I- I mean.." she frowned, frustrated. She'd known he'd make this hard. Gently, she tugged herself out of his hold, scooting away from him on the bench just enough so that she could turn herself to face him. Charlie seemed to sober up a little, and his brows furrowed as he mirrored her. He really was handsome. His face had matured over the past few years, sure, squaring to a strong jaw and warm features, but it was still undeniably boyish. It'd made him such a good Beast; the moment they'd reveled the face under all the corny makeup, he'd been perfectly suited to the more childish and charming parts of the prince. She couldn't have been happier to have had him as her counterpart. They'd been friends for years now, longer than they'd dated, and she knew now that that had been when she'd liked him best.

"Beth?" He asked expectedly. She warmed as she focused back in on him. It wasn't even that she didn't love him, it was that she wasn't ready for the kind of love he had in him.

"Look," she started, keeping her voice soft. "Upstate is- it's a long way away. And we're both gonna have a lot to focus on soon, with school and everything. I think... I think maybe we should just go back to being friends." She said the last part more quickly than intended in an attempt to just get it out and over with. She'd thought she'd be crying by now, and she thanked god she wasn't. That would make it all the harder.

Charlie's face had fallen. He had that look he got when he turned a little introspective, and she found herself holding her breath while she waited for him to put it all together. She watched his throat move as he swallowed. "It's only a couple of hours," he said softly. His gaze flickered back up to her, his eyes already a little wet. Beth deflated, just a little bit. "Y'know, I don't mind the drive. I- I could-"

"It's not really about the drive." Her breath hitched. Oh, fuck, there it was. Reaching up, she scrubbed at one of her eyes, then let out a slow breath. "It's- I'm not.. ready for this, Charlie. I- I thought maybe I could be, but I'm not." She dropped her hand, then shrugged, trying to offer him a small smile. "We gave it a go, and I think.. maybe that's all it should be. It'll be tough to keep things up once I leave, anyway."

Charlie looked away from her. He was starting to withdraw into himself in a way she hated, but she'd just burned the bridge she took to reach out to him. His hands fidgeted in his lap, one tugging at a sleeve of his jacket. "I-" He tried, and then he fell quiet again. "It's not that far," he said finally. She sighed.

"I told you, it's-"

"No, I- I know." He looked up. "Not about that. But I thought- hell, we've been takin' things slow already. I don't mind it. We don't have to.."

Beth found herself smiling for him. It was the exact thing she'd expected him to say. And maybe outloud, they said it was slow, and they made no commitments, but she could tell what it all meant to him. It wasn't like he could help it. She shook her head. "The fact that you're arguing it is.. God, thats your problem." She said it as gently as she could. "Your slow isn't really.. slow. And I just.. I don't really wanna deal with.. relationships at all right now. I'm sorry."

His gaze had dropped again. He'd pulled a knee up to his chest and wrapped his arms around it, and she could he was trying to hide the fact that he was crying. It was pointless, because she felt like she might cry, too. She hated hurting him. But she had to.

"Charlie," she said gently, before there was a screech of brakes that made her look up. Her bus was here. She sighed again. "I've gotta go. I'll... see you around, okay?" She pushed herself up to stand. He vaguely nodded, which made her chest hurt. "...We're still friends."

"Yeah," he said softly. Sniffling, he looked up at her and nodded again. "Sure. See you."

Beth tried to smile again for him. Then she stepped away to wait for the bus door to open, but she only got so far before familiar arms were pulling her in for a brief, tight hug. Charlie was on his way to really breaking down when he pulled away. He stuttered out an apology, and before she could tell him it was alright, he'd started off down the street again.

She watched him go with her heart in her throat. She hoped it wouldn't take them too long to work their way back from this.

[spookychick78]

End Of The Line

Chapter 7: Let The Rain Come Down

Thomas Hewitt X AFAB!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,175

She was told to sit again, this time in a chair in front of an old vanity mirror in what she assumed was Luda's room. She stared silently out the small window to see the sun was high in the sky. It was hard to believe just twenty four hours ago it had been a beacon of hope. Now, as the minutes ticked by and it continued it's ascent it felt as though the wooden walls were closing in around her. They were going to get their way whether she liked it or not. She could feel it in the ache of her bones that Thomas was right. She was too weak to run, she was trapped and left to hope for whatever mercy these people would allow her. She felt betrayed by her own body, sickened by her weakness and how naïve she'd been. Maybe if she hadn't stopped she'd be in Santa Fe right now. Then again, maybe that was why she was alive. Whatever he had seen in her seemed to be the only reason she was still breathing. Though, as she stared out the window she wondered if maybe her best bet was to run and let them shoot her down. He had been kind thus far, but the thought of being forced to wed him, to be his wife? She closed her eyes and tried to settle the growing sickness in her stomach as Luda hobbled into the room. Ronnie turned to face herself in the mirror and saw in the reflection she was holding another gown. A white one.

"I hope Tommy got that leg of yours cleaned up good," Luda started as she set the dress down and looked over Ronnie in the mirror, "you already ruined one of my dresses and I don't want you bloody'n your weddin' gown. Turn and face me girl."

Ronnie did as she was asked and let the woman check her knee, "Bless him, he tried. Boy just forgot to wrap it."

She shook her head as she contemplated what she would bandage the wound with. It didn't take her long to decide to rip some of the dress Ronnie had on and fashion it out of the old cloth.

She smiled to herself as she tied it, "Guess we won't have to worry about findin' you a garter after all."

Ronnie looked down her nose at the elderly woman. She wanted nothing more than to wring her neck each time she so casually reminded her of what they intended to do with her. It had to be survival instinct holding her back, because it wasn't like Ronnie to freeze. She took a deep breath and looked back at herself in the mirror. Luda glanced up and saw right through the girl's hardened expression. She could tell she was scared stiff and she did feel some sympathy for her. She stood up and gently rested one hand on her shoulder while the other played with a few strands of Ronnie's hair.

"You got them unruly curls just like Tommy does," she said, "your poor babies won't catch any luck with those genes."

Luda felt the girl tense and let out a chuckle as she started to gather Ronnie's curls into a bun, "Now, I know you're nervous and I wanna give you the benefit of the doubt that maybe you ain't done this before."

She took note as Ronnie's eyes cut sharply up to her through the reflection, "Then again, I don't know what exactly it is you girls get up to these days. But I can tell you this, Tommy has not. I'm not sure he's ever so much as thought about a girl until you showed up. So you'll have to be patient with him."

She patted Ronnie once she'd finished with her hair and waited for her to stand up. She looked over her with a pleased smile before she grabbed the white dress.

"But don't you worry, Tommy's a quick learner. It won't take him too long to figure everythin' out," she added, making Ronnie's stomach churn, "now go on and take that dirty thing off. This oughta fit you better anyway," Luda said.

The poor girl hesitantly began to lift up her dress as she gave Luda an unsure look.

"Don't pay me no mind, it's nothin' I ain't seen before," Luda reassured her, "I may not look it anymore, but I'm just as much a woman as you are where it counts."

She pulled the dress over her head and tossed it on the ground at Luda's feet. She refused to meet the woman's eyes as she held the gown out for Ronnie to step into. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and Luda began to lace up the back. Ronnie looked back to the mirror to watch. Under any other circumstance, she would have admitted the thing was lovely. Luda finished lacing the back of the dress and met Ronnie's gaze in the mirror. She smiled as she admired how well it fit her before she reached her hand up to take a few strands of her hair out of the bun. She placed them so that they'd frame her delicate features just right.

"There," she said quietly, "if Tommy thought you were pretty before, he's gonna be beside himself when he sees you now."

If a look could break glass, Ronnie's would have. Her rage was silent, but there nonetheless. Everything the woman had said to her sank deep in her heart like a blade to flesh. Being powerless to stop any of this only made the words she'd heard cut deeper. She could feel Luda's disturbingly pleased gaze on her reflection.

"What's your name, girl?" She asked softly.

"Ronnie," she whispered as she kept her eyes glued to her own appearance, hoping the sound of her own name would remind her of who she was and not to let these people take that from her.

"Ronnie," Luda repeated as she glided over to the door to hold it open for her soon to be daughter in-law, "Ronnie Hewitt. Does have a nice ring to it, don't it?"

"No," Ronnie whispered before she turned to face Luda straight on, "I may not be able to stop you from doin' whatever it is you think you're doin', so go on, have your phony wedding. But let me make this clear. I will not be bred like cattle, I will not allow you to break me for whatever purpose you think I'm going to serve. You won't, none of you will. I'm not your daughter, you ain't my mama, I will not be his wife and I will never be a Hewitt."

His butcher's knife hit the wood underneath it with a loud thud. He had no meat to cut, but he needed the release only a blade in his hand could give him. He knew any minute now Hoyt was going to come down those stairs to call him up. He watched them over the top of his mask as he let the blade fall, hit, lift and repeat. The table became more unstable with each dent he left in it. Let it break he thought to himself before his mind wandered back to what was about to unfold. It was no secret that Mama had wanted this for quite sometime, though it had been mutually agreed upon that Thomas would never actually be able to marry. At least that's what the more realistic members of the family assumed. He had been reminded by Hoyt since he could remember that his face wasn't one women would fawn over. In fact, Hoyt had been the first to suggest he cover his facial shortcomings, much to Mama's dismay. Luda Mae had been the only one deluded enough to think her youngest son had been beautiful from the start, but Hoyt made sure Tommy knew what he was. He had never been kind about it either. He was no stranger to Hoyt's cruelty, but this was a new kind of torture. Tommy knew the man was fully aware he was condemning him to a life filled with reminders that he was simply unwanted. That girl didn't want him and Hoyt knew that each time Thomas looked into his soon to be wife's eyes he would be reminded of that. That was the price Thomas would pay for disobeying the 'sheriff's' order.

Tommy heard the sound of the door at the top of the stairs swing open. He reverted his gaze back to the table to see he'd all but destroyed the thing. It was riddled with marks from the butcher's knife, though he thought it could use a few more. He continued to chop away at nothing as Hoyt made his way down.

"Come on up Tommy, don't wanna keep your bride waitin' or she might run off on you again," Hoyt said.

Thomas didn't look up. He kept his focus on the rise and fall of the knife in his hand. Hoyt spit some of his dip out as he grew agitated by Thomas' refusal to acknowledge him.

"You know, that girl pouts less than you do," Hoyt muttered.

Tommy slammed the knife down harder in response. Hoyt knew he couldn't force him up the stairs, but he might be able to poke him just enough to make him listen.

"If you ain't up to the task boy, I'd be happy to take your place," Hoyt said as he stepped closer to Tommy.

Tommy began to tense, but tried his best to ignore the man. He didn't want to gratify him with a response. Hoyt narrowed his eyes at him as he thought of the next vile thing he could say.

"A woman like that would probably appreciate a little more experience than you got below the belt," he said quieter now.

Thomas gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the butcher's knife. Hoyt knew him well enough to know he had hit a nerve. He could tell by the way his eyes fixated on the table in front of him and the way his shoulders began to lift up and down as he breathed.

"Come to think of it, probably best I do. We both know she'll come lookin' anyway once she figures out you ain't man enough to do the things I'd do to her," he said with a sneer.

Thomas slammed the knife down through the table this time. He let go of the handle and turned to face Hoyt with the same stubborn glare he'd given him the first time he'd suggested such a thing. Hoyt wasn't one to back down easy and he was growing tired of the newfound defiance Thomas had towards him.

"You don't want that now, do you?" He said with a wicked look in his eyes, "Then be the man you think you are and get your ass up those stairs. 'Cause if you don't, I got half a mind to walk up there, put a bullet right between those pretty blue eyes and make you watch while I skin her for dinner."

If blood wasn't thicker than water, those would have been Hoyt's last words. Thomas let out a deep breath and admitted defeat.

"You made your bed, boy," Hoyt said before he nodded up the stairs, "now go lie in it. Or I'll do what shoulda been done the minute you laid eyes on that bitch."

For her sake, he did as Hoyt asked. As he walked it seemed like there were fewer stairs than he remembered. He had made it up them in no time all the while aware of Hoyt's vengeful gaze weighing heavy on his back. He could feel he was quite pleased to get his way as he watched Thomas push the door open. The room was silent as she stood there in the living room. She kept her head down, but he knew she'd heard him come in. She looked different from when he'd first seen her and he had to admit it did make it hard to keep his eyes off of her. The dress Mama had given her to wear was modest, but it hung on her body in such a way that made Thomas feel what he could only describe as weak. That wild and dirty blonde hair she had was tamed, tied up into a bun, but some of her curls had been left out to frame her face. She looked beautiful. For a moment he felt maybe what most men would have at the sight of her, he felt lucky. She looked up to catch him gazing at her and that's when the reality of the situation made its way back into the pit in his stomach. Within all that beauty he saw it clear as day, it didn't matter how white that dress they made her wear was, it didn't blind him to it. She was sad. Beautiful and sad. Thomas figured that's just what Hoyt had hoped for.

[early20sfailingplenty]

Idk how many people i can request for but I'd like to request notes for @pharmacykeys and @imbleedin-out. Encouragement or just something sweet (also not sure who they'd prefer the notes from) (but I'd also like to request a note for you because you're amazing and so caring and I want you to have the encouragement you deserve so anything you'd like to hear at this moment from any or all of the brothers 💖)

OMG nonnie this is the sweetest ask!! I thought for a long time about what to write for Riri and Lily and I think I finally found something for the both of them! I think Riri would prefer Lester and Lily, Bo, but if that's wrong then please let me know and I'll write you lovely people a note from someone else!!! AND OMG NONNIE FOR ME TOO???? You're very kind🥺🥺🥺 thank you so so much omllll if there's anything YOU want nonnie then please don't be shy to follow this up with an ask for you, too!💖💖💖

For Riri (@pharmacykeys)

Hey sweetpea,

I'on remember the last time I left y'somethin' to keep a'hold of 'til I come home so I figured I'd do somethin' now. Why not tell y'everythin' every moment I can? S'not like I ever had someone I could talk to 'fore y'came swannin' into m'life. Yep, was jus' me an' sometimes Jonesy – Vincent's good mood depending – on them same ol' roads, day in an' day out. Ain't got no one t'talk to 'cept me an' I get bored o'my own voice after a while.

Tha's one of the many reasons m'so grateful t'ya', darlin'... listenin' t'me an' makin' me feel like I matter. Like everythin' I say is worth 'memberin' an' like y'don't know what y'll do wit'out me, jus' like I'on what I'd do wit'out you, either. Was long an' lonely days wit'out you... never though I'd find someone like you. Jus' look at'cha, darlin'. Beautiful.

M'real proud o'ya, darlin', an' don't'cha ever forget it. Don't want you ever feelin' bad 'bout y'reself, not for anythin' or anyone.

Love ya', sweetpea, an' I'll be back 'fore y'know it.

Lester.

For Lily (@imbleedin-out)

M'darlin',

M'chest is achin' right now an' I know it's 'cause o'ya. Everythin's cause'a you. Town's tidier, neater. Lester smiles more. Vincent eats more than he used to – I ain't so worried 'bout him now. Used to have'ta practically shove food down 'im jus' t'make sure he remembered to eat. Jonesy's got a new friend... and you already know what you've done to me, for me and 'cause'a me.

World's a bit brighter, bit bigger, wit' you here, an' I ain't afraid to say it in as many ways as I think I gotta' 'fore it really gets in and sinks in there.

I've seen you go far from here, do so much and keep tryin' no matter what shit's thrown at'cha, an' even though sometimes y'shaky on yer' feet, you still move an' that's really incredible. M' proud o'ya. Y'always come home to me, to your Bo, an' I'on know but m'sick of tryna' question it. Ain't gonna do that anymore, jus' gonna accept an' enjoy it.

Enjoy the good things 'fore they're gone.

M'always your Bo, an' I got'cha back.

Bo.

And... for lil' ol' me, I just wanna know they're proud of me and they love me and that they see me, even the things I don't say out loud or share. They see the way I jump at loud noises and raised voices, they see the clenched fists and closed eyes when someone gets too close to me, they see the way I wash my hands and then wash them again if I touch a texture I don't like or if someone touches me without asking me first, they see me and they love me, and they're here. They don't want me going without a night light or with unbrushed and unbraided hair and they'll help me to help myself. They see me sobbing and then putting on the song Bo plays in the garage and then crying harder and Bo shakes his head, scoffs lightly and pulls me in for a hug (if I trust deeply, you don't gotta ask to touch me and the Sinclairs would definitely be involved in that). I want them to know I love them and I want them to tell me that I show them all the time, that I don't have to keep trying to show it because they know and I can relax now, they're not going anywhere. I just want them to know me and to love me anyway...because I look at them and then I look at me and my brain just cannot compute. They wouldn't be lucky to have me, they'd be settling. I would be the lucky one and I'd try so hard to take care of them and be everything they need and want. 🥺😭💖

[whats-wild-to-you]

birthday w/ Jay pleaseeeeee

this one's a little vague so I'm gonna interpret this as Jay and his girl sharing the same birthday.

They've just started dating and although she knows they share the same birthday, Jay doesn't. When he finds out a week before their birthday, he surprises her with something each day and throws her (and himself) a huge party on their birthday

_____________________________________________

You glared at the calendar on your desk, trying to remember when you and Jay started dating officially.

The two of you hung out before, and although it seemed like you were flirting from the day you've met, it took a while for you to reveal your feelings to each other.

Since everything happened so naturally, you didn't know when you stopped being just friends and started being lovers too.

As you stared at your calendar, another date caught your attention.

April 25th.

Your birthday. And coincidentally, Jay's birthday as well. You were the only one who knew, and for some reason you were dreading that day.

You were never big on birthdays. Presents? You didn't need those anyway. You could buy everything you wanted with your own money. Cake? You didn't have to wait for one particular date in the year to have cake. You could have cake every day!

Fortunately, Jay didn't ask you about your birthday the first time you slept over at his place. Although you hardly slept that night. Instead you stayed up, talking, asking each other questions. It was after Jay kissed you for the first time. As if you were in a k-drama, it suddenly started pouring so Jay grabbed your hand and ran with you back to his place.

Inside he handed you a towel and one of his shirts, and he even made tea for you.

'I wanna know everything about you!', he had said.

You talked about everything, but didn't think that your birthday or your favorite color was important information at the time.

"What do I say if he asks about my birthday?" You groaned, but concluded that you would deal with it later.

In the evening, right when you got off work, you received Jay's text.

Are you ready? I'll come pick you up!

Yes. I'll be waiting outside.

He came sooner than anticipated, which made you wonder if he was somewhere nearby.

"I just booked the location for my birthday." He said, as if he could read your mind.

"What should I get you for your birthday?"

"I don't want anything as long as I have you!" He said, reassuringly placing his hand over yours.

"Ah, right. I never asked. When's your birthday? I'll get the day off and we'll go somewhere nice."

"We don't have to."

"I insist! So? when's your birthday?"

You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, wondering how much it would hurt if you just jumped out of the moving car now.

"... babe?"

"My birthday's on the 25th."

"Of...?"

Instead of answering, you stared at him.

"No way!" He stared back as soon as you stopped at a red light. "Wait. A party won't do then. We have to go all out!"

"No. We don't. I'm not a huge birthday person. We'll just do what you've planned already."

And with that the conversation was over. Jay sighed but remained silent. You knew he was scheming something when he remained silent for the rest of the evening.

The next morning you woke up to a huge bouquet of red roses, carefully placed on the bed next to you. Jay had already left, so you texted him, thanking him for the flowers.

The day after it was an expensive box of chocolates waiting for you in your apartment. For a second you wondered how they got in there but then you remembered that Jay knew the passcode to your apartment.

On day three, Jay finished his schedules early and picked you up from work, taking you to Han River where he had set up a picknick for you.

"What is all this?"

"Countdown."

You nodded your head knowingly. Of course Jay wouldn't sit still and let your birthday pass. But the truth was, you enjoyed it.

"What happens tomorrow?"

"It's a surprise!"

"Admit it! You don't know yet! You ran out of ideas." It was fun teasing him.

"Everything is planned already!"

On day four he picked you up from work, going shopping with you. Although you made enough money to buy everything you wanted, Jay insisted on spoiling you from time to time.

Using his credit card, you bought a new dress and matching shoes.

"Wear the dress on our birthday!"

"Isn't it too much?"

"Not for what I have planned!"

The suspense was killing you. You also hated surprises. Jay knew that, and had a lot of fun teasing you every day.

On the fifth day you didn't hear from him all day. You just assumed he was busy, after all you were busy too. After work you drove home, ready to take a shower and watch your favorite show.

Your nostrils picked up the scent of a homecooked meal, and sure enough, as soon as you walked into the kitchen you saw Jay standing in front of the stove.

"What are you doing here?"

"Cooking you dinner."

He turned around and you noticed he was wearing an apron.

"Aww, too bad you have clothes on under that apron." You pouted amused.

"Really? Because I've thought about cooking naked, but then I thought what if I spilled something on myself."

You laughed wholeheartedly, walking up to him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

The next morning you woke up when Jay nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

"Good morning." He mumbled, leaving kissed all over your skin.

He got up, dragging you with him to the shower for some morning sex. Afterwards he made breakfast and his shake for you and sat you down on his lap, feeding you eggs and toast.

"Aren't you going to work today?" You asked when you checked the time.

"Later." He replied, chewing on his toast.

You left for work with Jay still being in your apartment. It was a strange image, but surprisingly enough you liked the feeling of knowing Jay was there.

At work, your friend and colleague asked about your birthday, if you had any plans, wanted a specific present.

"No. It's okay."

"Aren't you celebrating?"

She knew you were dating someone, but she didn't know it was Jay. How would she react if she found out you dated her celebrity crush, with whom you shared a birthday.

A thought crossed your mind and you quickly grabbed your phone, texting Jay.

Is it okay if I invite someone to the party tomorrow?

Sure. Came his immediate response.

But the thing is, she doesn't know you're my boyfriend.

That's okay.

And she's also kinda like a huuuuge fan of you!

You should probably tell her beforehand then.

You chuckled, unaware that your colleague was staring at you.

"Who were you texting? The boyfriend?"

"Yes. He planned a big party for tomorrow! I'd like for you to come."

"I will. If you tell me what you want for your birthday."

"You know I don't like presents. Instead I have a favor to ask."

You watched your colleague and friend sitting there with her mouth open. You had just finished telling her about Jay, and about what was happening all week.

"I don't believe it! I mean not like, I can't believe that you and him are together, but like ... I can't believe it! Wow!"

"That's why it's important that you keep this a secret. And don't post any pictures or videos tomorrow."

"You got it! But, honestly, what do you think will happen tomorrow?"

"I don't know, but the Jay that I know surely has prepared a lot!"

"How cute is he, doing all these little things for you every day. God, I'm so single!"

You laughed together with your friend, relieved that you finally shared your secret with her.

Day 7. D-Day.

You took the day off but Jay still had a few things to take care of. You had texted each other in the morning, wishing one another happy birthday. Jay promised to pick you up and take you to dinner with yours and his parents before you'd go to your joint birthday party.

"A dinner? With both parents?"

Somehow that made you panic and you quickly texted your friend for advice.

Do you think he's planning something? She replied back almost immediately.

Planning something? Like what?

I don't know. To propose?

No! He wouldn't. We never talked about stuff like this.

Alright, then it's just a birthday dinner. Maybe the party later will be too wild for the parents to attend, so he's giving them a family birthday dinner instead.

Right? That must be it. I have nothing to worry about.

Looking at the dress you bought with Jay, you thought it may be not appropriate for a family dinner. You texted him and he agreed, telling you to take the dress with you and change at the location. He planned to do the same as well.

After dinner with the parents, you got in the back of the limousine Jay had rented for the night, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I- it's nothing."

"Oh, no, don't do that! Just tell me what it is."

"Earlier, I panicked a little bit when you said we'd have dinner with our parents."

"Why?"

"I thought you'd- never mind!"

"What?"

"I thought you might propose."

You teared your gaze off your lap and turned to look at him. He was smiling widely, and you could tell he was amused.

"I know it's stupid, but at that moment, I don't know..."

"It's not that stupid."

"We never talked about ... you know.. that!"

"There's still plenty of time. Relax. Tonight I want you to have fun!"

You smiled faintly, leaning in, resting your head on his shoulder.

After a night filled with laughter, dancing, alcohol and lots of cake, you and Jay plopped down on a couch.

It was already 6am and soon the cleaning company Jay hired to clean up would arrive.

You had both warded off sleep several times during the night, and were now wide awake.

"So, about proposing..." Jay started and you slowly turned your head, locking eyes with him.

[foolishlovers]

proof that louis tomlinson is a good omens stan:

exhibit 1) twitter

1.1) follows michael sheen

(probably wishes david tennant had social media)

exhibit 2) lyrics

(faith in the future is an ode to good omens, u can’t convince me otherwise)

why write these lyrics if you’re not constantly thinking about aziraphale and crowley?? he probably got to read the script beforehand or smth

2.1) the greatest

Together, we’re the greatest

We'll never be that cold again

No fallin' all to pieces

We're the grеatest

It's you and me until the еnd

Life for us is never over

The way you know something

Your face reminded me

Of a love you cannot hide

But don't need to tell me why

Back dancin' in the dark

Back to the very start

Findin' pieces that can fit

Making up for what we missed

(how is this not screaming ineffable husbands to you??)

2.2) lucky again

'Cause I'm a hard man to lose

But I figured it out, then made my way back

To a life I would choose

We were lucky once, could be lucky again

I'm a hard man to find

But you figured it out and I love you for that

(THEY JUST NEED TO FIGURE IT OUT…..they could be lucky again……)

2.3) face the music

Good and bad and right and wrong

Are stories made up when we're young to scare us

Love and hate are in-between

Depends on your reality to see them

(oh cmonnn)

So, one more night

I'm gonna choose

I don't wanna face the music, but I still wanna dance with you

Let's buy some time

For what we shouldn't do

I don't wanna face the music, but I still wanna dance with you

(an angel and a demon dancing in a bookshop anyone??)

If you're standin' on the edge of fallin'

Open up and looking down

Everything that matters is forgotten

(ouch)

2.4) all this time

Oh, sometimes, sometimes, you lose your hope

But the friends we make, the love it takes

It's worth, it's worth, it's worth the pain

The friends we make, the love it takes

It's worth, it's worth, it's worth it all this time

(question: was s2 episode 6 worth the pain?)

2.5) out of my system

Slowly, I never wanna go slowly

I only wanna go faster

Towards disaster every time

With me, I know you wanna come with me

Take anything you can carry

And leave everythin' else behind

(pure crowley vibes…. is he still going too fast for him?)

Gotta get it out of my system

Gotta get it off of my chest

I've lived a lot of my life already

But I gotta get through the rest

(the rest… you mean the part where they end up in a sweet old south downs cottage together?)

Demons, I'm takin' all of my demons

Putting them where I won't see them

'Cause I just wanna feel alive

(i mean…..nothing much to say to this)

2.6) headline

You used to read me like a headline

So many reasons now you're not mine

Maybe if you'd taken more time

I'd still be the one you wanna talk to every night, oh

If you got in my head

You wouldn't be scared of what you'd find

You used to rеad me like a headlinе

Oh, that's the reason now you're not mine anymore

(okay now im just making myself sad)

2.7) saturdays

I've been wonderin' about what you're up to

Not for the first time

Not for the last time

And I've been thinking 'bout the things we used to do

Not for the first time

Not for the last time

(can u see crowley howling in his car….)

2.8) silver tongues

You and me until the end

Wakin' up to start again

You and me until the end

Wakin' up to start again

There's nowhere else that I would rather be

(it’s really just them… a group of the two of them…… until the end)

2.9) angels fly

(LIKE NAMING DEMONS WASN’T ENOUGH???)

Nothin' really matters

Nothin' really hurts

We can talk about it

It'll only make it worse

(crunching on what’s left of my heart)

There's a time for sayin' who did what

Where it went wrong

I wanna hear all that, but right now

All I need you to know is

You'll be okay, we can talk tomorrow

I'm on my way with some time to borrow

If every star is an eye in the sky

You'll see angels fly

I'll knock on your door, it'll save me from callin'

I won't say a word, it can wait till the mornin'

(…..there’s …..hope? they'll be okay??)

2.10) holding on to heartache

You said I'm holdin' on to heartache

You said I wear it like a crown

It's gonna drag me down

I'm holdin' on to heartache

You should be starin' at the sky

The birds just passin' by, love

(smth smth heartache, birds, fits just right)

2.11) copy of a copy of a copy

It's an old curse, dreamers divin' head first

Broken beaks and dead birds

Can't get through the glass

There's no use cryin' over spilled blood

Carin' only kills love

A kiss won't bring it back

(A KISS WONT BRING IT BACK I- NGHGHGKK)

thanks for coming to my (very long, oops) ted talk