#practically barfed on my screen and called it a day

[chaotic-cheese-blog]

Once more fanart for @tigsbitties and @bandtrees 's wondrously wretched fic because I can't get over it

(if you want to read it)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58466692/chapters/154305442

Also here's the original sketch tee hee, the vibe changed quite a bit lmayo

(CW potential eyestrain)

[bonniepop]

title: of rumors & wrong assumptions parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 (apparently) character: iwaizumi hajime warnings: i leave oikawa alone in this one. for the most part.

-

you manage to avoid drama for a good few weeks.

a welcome relief, seeing as you and oikawa were the center of attention for a more-than-uncomfortable amount of time. but as high school was wont to do, you became old news quick, with some other couple receiving the brunt of the gossip.

you did, however, have a sneaking suspicion that iwaizumi was behind the damage control. and while you three, along with oikawa, got along more and grew closer, you never really got a chance to ask.

the general student body was more or less updated with the fact that you weren't together, but murmurings of, but they looked so cute! (gross) or they sure act like a couple (worse) floated around your classmates before ultimately being silenced.

thank god, you think, because if you'd been caught watching volleyball practice from the mezzanine balcony of the gym at the same time those rumors went around, you'd be well and fully screwed.

now, though, you were afforded peace. oikawa and iwaizumi invited you to watch practice once and it became a sort of routine, joining them in the gym and going to your corner on the balcony, unpacking your things to finish your schoolwork. there were some noisy oikawa fans, but they never really stayed for long, and often left after one or two games.

some volleyballs ended up in your vicinity, though, which was technically unavoidable, but you would always hear iwaizumi's sorry! and throw the ball back.

the routine was nice. after practice, oikawa or iwaizumi would call you down and you'd stay a good few feet away (boy sweat) as you leave the school premises. turns out, you and iwaizumi head home in the same direction, so each time oikawa separates from your little trio, he leaves with a wink and waggle of his fingers.

this time, though, he throws in a, "you know what to do, iwa-chan!", which you can only assume is about homework, so you roll your eyes and wave goodbye.

your routine silence with iwaizumi settles between you as you walk home. you feel that iwaizumi wants to say something, but maybe you're imagining it.

when your turn comes, you turn to look up at him and smile. "i'll see you tomorrow."

you nearly jump back at the very severe glare he's sending in your direction.

"yeah," he grunts, his jaw flexing. "see you tomorrow."

you squeak out a, "take care," and scurry away in fear.

-

since you and oikawa were friends now (small barf), you ask for his advice in chem lecture. thankfully, it was audiovisual day, so you were seated at the back of the dark room while a movie played on the screen.

he listens intently as you recount the series of events to him, and he groans. "he really needs to do something about that face of his," he sighs. "he's not mad. i told you, that's just his face. he just has the guy equivalent of resting bitch face."

"he looked like he wanted to spike a volleyball to my head."

"that's how he looks at me," oikawa deadpans.

you sniff. "anyway."

oikawa purses his lips a bit. "if it bothers you so much, do you want me to talk to him about it?"

"will it make a difference?"

"honestly?" he says, thinking a little. "maybe not."

"i suggest you both pay attention before i do a pop quiz for this," your teacher says from behind you, scaring you into sitting up straight.

"sorry, sir," you and oikawa say in unison, and the teacher passes between your seats.

oikawa looks at you. later, he mouths, and you nod.

-

later turns out to be at lunch with iwaizumi.

"iwa-chan!" oikawa whines. "you really need to work on your expressions."

iwaizumi looks absolutely livid. "what are you talking about?"

oikawa gestures to his friend's face. "that! i keep telling you this. you look so... unfriendly!"

iwaizumi looks like he's ready to start a fight. but then he and relaxes his brow. "how about now?"

"loosen up on the chin."

iwaizumi follows suit. "now?"

you watch the exchange between the two of them as you eat your lunch, oikawa making the effort to rid iwaizumi of his resting bitch face. you had to agree with oikawa on this one—when iwaizumi sat down for lunch and looked like he wanted to murder his bento.

"better!" oikawa says cheerfully. he takes iwaizumi's chin and turns his face in your direction. "doesn't that look better, _____-chan?"

the relaxed look morphed into a murderous one. "if you want to keep that hand, i suggest you stop touching me."

oikawa simply laughs and pats iwaizumi's cheek. "you're funny, iwa-chan—OW! that hurt!"

lunch was now a (well, mostly) peaceful affair. the first time you three had lunch together—or when oikawa both dragged you kicking and (very quietly) screaming to his and iwaizumi's class room to have lunch with them—there was chatter, but now that it's been going on for a few weeks, people stopped caring.

iwaizumi uncovers his lunch. "i heard something funny the other day."

you pluck a grape from your lunch bag. "hmm?"

"apparently some people thought i was gay."

he says it as soon as you pop the grape in your mouth, and you nearly choke to death. oikawa rushes next to you to whack you in the back, after some desperate coughs, the grape dislodges. you chew and swallow quickly to avoid another mishap.

you take some breaths before turning to oikawa and smacking him in the arm. hard.

"that's my back, you idiot! you don't hit me like you're serving a volleyball!"

he looks offended beyond belief. "you ungrateful little—i just saved your life!"

"you nearly gave me a spinal fracture!"

iwaizumi fixes his glare on oikawa. "you're trying to stop her from choking, not dislocate her vertebrae."

oikawa sits back down and pouts. "you two are so unappreciative of me! you deserve each other." he dramatically stands up and, taking his lunch, marches out of the classroom.

iwaizumi scoffs in oikawa's direction. "drama queen." he looks back at you. "you okay?"

you stretch your back on your seat. "yeah, i think. he hit me pretty hard."

"you want a painkiller or something? i think i have some—"

"oh, no—i'm okay, really."

iwaizumi shrugs. "if you're sure."

awkward silence settles between you two as iwaizumi eats his food and you fidget. "so, um," you clear your throat. "you were saying? sorry. i interrupted you."

"oh, yeah, some—"

you nearly jump back when oikawa shows up suddenly. "i forgot my milk," he mumbles, sitting back down with his lunch.

iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "embarrassing for you."

"shut up," the volleyball captain says, grabbing his carton and taking a huge sip from the straw.

"anyway," iwaizumi goes on. "some people thought i was gay."

oikawa, who clearly has no regard for your personal wellbeing, perks up. he looks absolutely delighted. "you don't say?"

"shut up or i'll punch you again."

oikawa's mouth clamps shut, but he still can't help his smile.

iwaizumi shakes his head. "and what if i was?"

your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. is he serious? "are you?"

he rolls his eyes. "no. but if i was, i would not be with oikawa. gross."

the joy in oikawa's face was quickly replaced by offense. "hey! i'd be a good boyfriend!"

"your last girlfriend dumped you." iwaizumi picks up some of his lunch.

"wh—stop bringing that up!"

"so... you're not?" you ask tentatively.

iwaizumi is surprisingly calm about this. "no. or, well, i don't think i am." he thoughtfully chews his food. "i know someone who's like... what's the one that likes both? my cousin is that."

"bisexual?" oikawa supplies, apparently not too hurt from iwaizumi's last quip to listen to the story.

"yeah, that. he was bisexual, but when he moved to... i think australia? he found out he was gay. so, i don't know. maybe i'm not gay now, but who knows?"

"you're surprisingly relaxed about this." oikawa leans back, a little apprehensive. "i thought you'd be mad."

iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "being called gay is not an insult."

"that's very mature of you," you tell him, and he looks down at his food. it strikes you that he may be shy about that.

you and oikawa share a look as the bell rings. you start packing up your lunch. "i'll see you guys later?"

"oh," oikawa starts, "we don't have practice later. coach has a thing with his kid, so we have a free afternoon."

"oh, okay."

"i can pass by your room after school," iwaizumi offers.

you look at him. "um... why?"

he cocks his head, confused. "so we can walk home together."

there's a beat before oikawa goes, "since you walk in the same direction, might as well go together! good thinking, iwa-chan!"

something occurs to iwaizumi before he glares at oikawa. he looks a little red in the face, so you don't know if it's from rage or embarrassment. probably rage.

you finish packing up your lunch amongst a mild scuffle between the two and you stand. when you look up from your bento, you find one of iwaizumi's fists curled around the lapel of oikawa's jacket and the other fist in the air, ready to land a punch.

they freeze and look at you.

"sure," you say.

iwaizumi's hold slackens. "huh?"

"sure, we can walk home together after class," you clarify.

oikawa's jaw slackens and iwaizumi lets go of his friend.

"see you," you say, before waving and leaving.

behind you, you can hear oikawa cry, "OW! what was that for?!"

iwaizumi snaps, "for being annoying. now go back to your seat before i punch you again."

you bite back a laugh and walk out of the room.

[keepingupwiththecullensblog]

🌟🎬 Welcome back to “Keeping Up with the Cullens”! Or more accurately, “Keeping Up with Bella’s Most Awkward Movie Date Ever.” 🎥🙄 Today, we’re diving into the cringiest third-wheel adventure known to humankind—featuring Bella, Jake, and Mike. It’s an uncomfortable love triangle, complete with awkward hand placements, a puking incident, and, of course, the infamous flu. 😂💀

So here’s the setup: Bella, bless her heart, is just trying to enjoy a “friendly” movie night, but we all know what’s *really* going on. Jake is full-on (and painfully) trying to win her heart, while poor Mike doesn’t stand a chance but gives it his best shot anyway. 💔 Mike’s all in, despite the fact that he’s basically the third wheel, and Bella is doing everything in her power to *firmly* place Jake in the friend zone. 🛑 But Jake? He’s having none of it. 😂

The rest of the group, of course, bails on the movie, leaving Bella smack in the middle of Jake and Mike. Naturally, both of them have their hands on the armrests, palms open, practically begging for her to hold them. 🖐️🖐️ It’s like an unspoken competition for Bella’s affection, and she’s just trying to focus on the screen, pretending not to notice the passive-aggressive hand positioning happening on either side of her. 🙄🍿

Then, the real chaos begins. Mike, clearly not built for horror movies—or maybe just the love triangle tension—gets *really* sick. 🤢 Bella’s already trying to manage the awkwardness of the situation, and now she’s got a barfing Mike to deal with. They have to leave the theater *mid-movie* because Mike is about to explode! 💀

As Mike is hunched over the theater restroom toilet, Jake, sensing his big moment, decides it’s the perfect time to have a heart-to-heart with Bella. 💬 He basically tells her that he’s not giving up, and that he’ll keep trying to win her heart. And Bella’s thinking, “Really, Jake? Now? This is what we’re doing while Mike’s puking his guts out?” Talk about timing! 😂💀

Thankfully, Jake is quick on his feet and, smart guy that he is, grabs a popcorn bucket for the ride home to spare his freshly fixed rabbit from Mike’s barf. 🍿🤢 And it's a good thing, too, because Mike was definitely not done. 🛠️✨ Crisis averted—sort of. After dropping off Mike, Jake starts feeling sick too, and they assume it’s that flu that’s been making the rounds. 🤧 Bella’s thinking, “Great, now it’s my turn to feel like death,” and she’s not wrong because, that night, she catches the infamous flu as well. 🤒💤

Now here’s the part that really gets me—where the heck is Edward? 😤 This is prime boyfriend material. Your girl is passed out, feverish, and in desperate need of some TLC, and you’re just missing in action? 👀 I��m actually *pissed* about this. Edward, my guy, this is your moment! Wouldn’t Alice *see* Bella’s suffering and give you a heads-up? And you just... let her deal with the flu all alone? Not cool. Meanwhile, Ben is over here being the best boyfriend, taking care of Angela while *she’s* sick. Take notes, Edward. 😠

And don’t even get me started on Charlie. Bella said he probably went to work just to have a “free bathroom.” 🚽 Really, Charlie? Your daughter’s passed out on the bathroom floor with a fever, and all you do is leave her a glass of water before you head off to work? Sure, you put her to bed that night, but come on! If she had passed out from her fever, you’d be a strong contender for Worst Dad of the Year. 😒

A couple of days later, Bella starts feeling better and naturally, she starts calling Jake’s house to see how he’s doing. She’s been trying to get in touch with him, but he’s completely MIA. 📞 When she finally gets a hold of him, Jake drops a bombshell: “I don’t think I have the flu…” He’s all confused, not knowing exactly what’s happening to him yet. Meanwhile, Bella’s still thinking it’s just the flu, while we, the audience, are sitting here like, “Oh sweetie, if only you knew…” 😬🐺

But here’s the kicker: Edward would *totally* have lost his mind if he knew about this awkward movie date. You *know* how jealous Edward gets over Mike of all people. The fact that Bella was caught in a third-wheel situation with Mike? Edward would’ve been mentally planning how to “accidentally” leave Mike in the woods for the wolves. 😤 It still kills me how much Edward was jealous of Mike at this point. Poor Mike doesn’t stand a chance, and yet, here’s Edward, low-key (or high-key) wanting to murder him. 😂

In the end, this whole thing was a *complete* mess. Bella’s awkward love triangle movie date turned into a flu-ridden disaster. Mike’s puking, Jake’s confessing his undying love while holding a popcorn bucket, and Bella’s trying to piece it all together while dealing with the flu. And where was Edward? MIA, as usual, during the one moment where Bella actually needed him to be there. 😒

[whoistheasshole]

How do I get out of this unsatisfying life I’m living?

Anonymous asks: So the thing is that I feel incredibly stuck - I have all the basics of life which I'm grateful for but also that was my BIG dream as a kid, to get tf out of my parents' house - but now I have that and idk what to do for the rest of my life. Like, if I try those "visualize your future" things I'm just like, "I'd like to sleep for a month, maybe longer" & it feels like I don't really WANT anything so I can't plan, you know? Just flailing here honestly. Pretty tired of it.

I wrote back: I got your question. To pinpoint my answer a little better, can you tell me about your current situation, like how long has it been since you moved out? Which are the things you have in order to your satisfaction? Some vague idea of your age range would also be helpful, but I can work without it too if you’d rather not share.

Anonymous answered: Ah, sorry. I was trying to fit in the character limit & also whenever I think about this my mind just goes flbbbbth. It's been about 5 years? That's about the only thing I'm truly HAPPY about, I'm not thrilled with my social/love life, career, etc & have pretty much been just coasting tbh. I'm almost 30. Thanks for entertaining this.

Alright, thanks for adding some background. I will come at this from different angles and you can pretty much pick and choose what sounds helpful and leave the rest, okay?

First, while there are people who have it all figured out, methodically planning their next career step or fully certain that there is no greater joy than raising a child, there are tons of other people who just, to quote, go „ flbbbbth“ when asked about their next steps or, god forbid, their life plan. I would say I fall in the latter camp, but I don’t mind because I think there is nothing wrong with that. I let myself be guided by the things I need to be happy (more on that later) and by current necessities – if my job becomes shit, I need to find a new job. If a friendship goes sour, I need to end it respectfully. But I couldn’t tell you specific career or personal goals, except...

... let’s talk about the „later“ now.

I’m an organizer, maybe even a worrier, and therefore I like lists. And for that reason I made a list a while ago that I still have and expect to keep for a long time. It is a list of everything that I need to be satisfied with my life. It consists of 29 entries and has three of them checked, though several others could be counted as half-checked. I wrote down everything that came to mind, paying no attention whether it was reasonable or feasible to want. That wasn’t the question.

It covers stuff like a clean flat (not checked), restful sleep (not checked), friends that I see regularly (checked) or a job with purpose (not checked). This list is my guide. Well, generally my needs are my guide, but it can be hard to be aware of your needs sometimes, so I got this list. And if I wonder what I need or want to focus on, I can turn to it and choose one of the entries and see what I can do about it. I can also look over the list every few years and see if things have developed in the right direction. Little progress is no reason to chastise myself, but helpful information to see whether I need to re-direct my focus.

Please note that I wrote „satisfied“, not „happy“. Being happy is a passing emotional state. It is completely normal and okay not to be happy all the time. But quiet satisfaction with where you are or where you are going, that is pretty achievable. It certainly is a process, but an enjoyable one.

This list is not a race and it is not really a to-do list because most of the things I wrote down aren’t easy to accomplish with a single action. They take months and years and, for some items, I can only try and hope it works out some day (see anybody who ever purposely looked for a partner).

So maybe this kind of list could be an exercise for you. Maybe it provides you with some insight, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s not the right point in your life. But if you sit down and the only thing you can come up with is „cry forever“ or „sleep forever“ then, you know, that’s a sign.

Which brings me to my next point: Journaling or automatic writing. This method is especially helpful for those „I feel some kind of way and I couldn’t even tell you how“ moments – so maybe exactly where you are right now. Captain Akward has introduced me to a website called „750 words“ and I’ve used the principle of „morning pages“, though not the website, since then whenever I felt like some emotions were starting to boil over.

I sit down, ideally in the morning, and just barf it all on the (digital) page. There are only two rules: 1) Don’t edit or judge yourself, write everything as it comes to mind (that’s the automatic writing part) and 2) Don’t stop before you’ve reached 750 words. You are not looking to write anything readable or clever or lyrical, you’re looking to get all the weirdness out so you can move on. Repeat this as many days as you feel queasy or weird or confused or angry or sad. Each day, as soon as you’ve reached the 750 words, you can walk away. Heck, you could even delete/burn the document if that feels right. It���s just about giving your thoughts the room they need so you can continue with your day, hopefully feeling somewhat relieved.

While we’re at writing, I also have a question for you: Where is the pressure coming from to „do something with your life“? Is it truly coming from inside you or are there outside factors? Are people in your life asking you when you’ll have kids? Do you live in a culture where it’s expected that everybody does something of note, works certain prestigious jobs? Do you compare yourself to the people around you and feel like you’re „late“?

Maybe mull this over on a leisurely walk or write about it, using the method above. No matter where it’s coming from, the feeling of pressure won’t go away just by knowing its origin, but the knowledge can help you keep it under control. And if you find it is truly your own wish, you will have tools to shape your life according to your needs.

So, next, sleep: Maybe do that?

You wrote "I'd like to sleep for a month, maybe longer". I understand this was half a joke, but also … it was probably more than a joke.

How are your energy levels? How does life feel? Are you trying to jog through jello most of these days?

If we’ve been overachievers or had a tough home life or needed to take care of ourselves pretty early, we can become accustomed to everything being difficult. This feeling and behavior can become a way of life, even when circumstances change and we have a chance to act differently.

Do you feel rested? Do you have regular moments of quiet in your life that let you breathe? If not, this is where I would start. Forget about lists, though morning pages might be a helpful accompanying tool (if they don’t become a task to punish yourself with if you don’t find the energy).

Take some weeks or months, maybe even a year to make rest your priority. You will have to find a way that works for you. Yes there is a lot of clinically proven stuff out there, but you will not see me do yoga or meditate. Though feel free if that’s up your alley. If you love cycling or taking photos or drawing or just plain lying on your bed and staring at the wall, see where you can add more of that to your day. Whatever brings you closer to yourself and makes you feel like you can exhale and stand still for a moment, that’s the way to go. Do this as long as sleeping seems like a fine choice. And for good measure maybe a month longer. You are ready to stop when you cannot wait to do something else goddamnit I’m bored!!! (you might say)

If you are in this picture, please start here. Any kind of life plan, next steps, strategizing, solving of riddles would set you back and perpetuate your exhaustion. Rest is not time wasted, rest is how you get your life back.

If you are in this picture, you will likely find that if you really pull through, if you truly rest, as long and boring or even scary as it may be, the other questions will probably have an intuitive answer afterwards. Not like „this is my 20-year career plan“, but „I feel like doing x this week“. And that is enough. Because you won’t need to strain to hear your needs through the fog of exhaustion anymore.

Finally, some practical information and links for when you do have the energy and inclination to tackle your job and social life. I am not saying you need to change anything if that’s not what you want to focus on. These are just some tips, in case they become relevant.

For your social life, I recommend what others have recommended before me: Pick an activity that you do with other people and stick with it long enough to become a familiar face, see also here and here (yes, meeting gay people is similar to meeting other people). If you try out new stuff, go there at least 5 or 6 times before you decide it’s not for you – of course assuming nothing bad is coming up like racist or abusive people in the group. Shop around if the first group/activity doesn’t work for you until you find something that you’d like to do permanently. Maybe you’ll gain some friends, maybe you’ll find a romantic opportunity. In any case, if it’s something fun that you like to do anyway, you will have found an outlet with a social group attached. It is absolutely not as easy right now, with Covid and all, but if nothing outdoors-y comes to mind, you could also use this time to brainstorm what sounds like fun for when things are safer again.

Of course you can also look at opportunities online, like Discord servers, online interest groups etc but I do understand if that’s just not appealing right now. I am certainly over sitting in front of a screen.

To round this up, don’t sneeze at contacts that you already have. Are there acquaintances, friends of friends, colleagues, family members who you would like to get to know better? Then go do that! Suggest a time and place to meet up and see how they react. Say yes to the potential friends.

Speaking of which...

The Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes might also be interesting. Sure, it’s a little pop culture positive thinking kinda stuff, but I did like the impulse it gave me to consider when I say no to opportunities out of anxiety or worry. It made me accept some social invitations from colleagues (… in the before times) that I would not have otherwise considered. I did not gain life-long friends, but I did learn another valuable info: That my FOMO wasn’t justified for these events ;)

It also lead me to the decision to do one new thing every month – visit a new place or try a new activity or cook a new food. If the concept sounds appealing, just think about what sounds interesting and achievable to you.

And finally, the advice blog recommendations that I’ll always have. For social life, love life, and general life planning turmoil: Captain Awkward. For everything job-related, including how to write a good cover letter or interview well and, of course, how to get out of the dreaded current job you have: Ask A Manager.

To sum it up:

1) Figure out if you even have the energy to tackle any of this right now.

2) Figure out your pillars for a satisfying life – nothing big and shiny, just … basic needs, wishes, social needs.

3) When you feel like it, pick what you want to tackle next and see where it leads you.

4) Stay flexible. This is your life and it’s okay to go where it takes you, even if it doesn’t look „cool“ or „impressive“ from the outside. All you need is to make it your own.

And if you want to, let me know how it goes some time. :)

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Dream Analysis

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: vomiting, detailed crime discussion, mentions of sexual assault (to victim, not reader)

A/N: THIS IS PART ONE TO A POSSIBLE THREE PART IMAGINE. It’s based on a request. I’ll answer the request after I post this. Uhm, as always, make sure to like, comment, share, and send me asks! I am but a humble writer in need of validation. Thank you for giving my last Spencer Reid post lots of love, it helped me to motivate myself enough to write this one. I hope you enjoy! (Also, this would be a season five Spencer. Like, just after he stops using his cane. (But also that cane, ugh. He such a little old man and I love it. Jesus this Man™.))

—

The dream started with a kiss.

One of those movie kisses where the rain is soaked in your clothes but you can’t feel the cold for the heat coming from the body pressed so close to you that you can feel his heart beat through your shirt.

His hands are splayed on either side of your face, and while everything about the kiss is rough and passionate, like he can’t get enough of kissing you, his hands are gentle. When he pulls away, it’s with great reluctance. You try to follow his mouth with your own, desperate for more, but you stop when he chuckles.

“I’ve played this over and over in my mind but I’ve never thought I would actually be here, kissing you.” You reach up to push a wet curl from his forehead only for the image to change.

You’re still just as close to the man in front of you, your hand is still raised to push back his hair, but there are tears in his eyes now. They’ve spilled over his cheeks and puddled into the floor. The tears come up to your ankles and fill the room wall to wall, the water is so clear that you can see each individual fleck of gray in the marble flooring. Tiny fish dance around your toes, thousands darting back and forth between you and the man.

“Spencer, why are you crying?” You step around the fish nibbling at your ankles, finally pushing back the lock of hair that curls on his forehead. But Spencer is gone, and in his place is a little boy with the same curls and big brown eyes.

“I broke my glasses, but I didn’t mean to.” He says, tears pouring from his eyes. The room continues to fill up, the water just as clear as before. You wipe the water from his cheeks, giving what you hope is a gentle smile. His glasses, broken just as he said, have sunk to the floor.

“That’s okay. Let’s just find your mommy and daddy, I’m sure they’re looking for you. Do you know where they are?” This isn’t something new for you, you deal with a lot more kids then you would like in your line of work. Usually missing from their parents or in extremely dangerous situations.

“They don’t know where I am.” You rub his tiny arms in your hands, looking around the otherwise empty room for anyone. It’s only you and the little boy, and then just a quickly it’s only you. You’re floating in the water now, but you aren’t afraid.

Maybe there is more to the dream, maybe there isn’t, but when you wake up that’s all you remember.

The sun doesn’t even filter through the window when you open your eyes for the day, the clock on your nightstand reading 5:40 in the morning. Behind you, your fiancé has wrapped you into his chest with an arm draped over your side. His breath fans across the back of your neck and his hair tickles your shoulder.

You could stay like this all day long, cacooned into the arms of the man you love, except the paranoia that hits you is like a truck and you physically can’t restrain yourself from going to check on your daughter.

As quietly as possible, you slip from his arms, being careful not to make a sound as you slip off the mattress and across the floor. The door creaks on its hinges and Spencer stirs, his hand opening and closing at the empty spot like he was trying to find you.

When you finally make it into the nursery, you relax at the complete normalcy of the surroundings. No smashed or open windows, no lights left on, no one hiding behind doors or under cribs. Just your five month old baby asleep in the corner of her crib, the small stuffed bunny Spencer bought from the hospital gift shop is tucked under one of her chubby arms.

When you reach out to smooth a tuft of her feathery soft hair back into place, she stirs just a little and you freeze. You love her more than life itself, but if she could just stay asleep for now that would be spectacular.

“We’re going to have a hard time getting rid of that stuffed animal when she gets older, aren’t we?” You heard him coming from the creak of your bedroom door, not even bothering to turn around as you directed the question over your shoulder. Spencer comes to stand beside you, his hands gripping the top of the crib as you both watch your daughter sleep.

“Yes, but on the plus side, studies show that children with comfort objects are less shy and more focused than children without them. Even more so, children with comfort objects are more adventurous and independent because it helps them to go outside of their comfort zones without their parents.” You lean your head on his shoulder, content to stay like this forever.

“We’re not weird for watching her sleep?” He places a kiss to your temple, a smile tugging at his lips as your daughter reaches up to rub at her tiny ear.

“It’s common practice among parents.” One of his hands slips behind you to rub circles into your lower back. You’re not sure how long you stay like that until you peak a glance at the clock on her dresser. You and Spencer have to be at work in about an hour.

Lifting your head, you playfully pat his butt before making your way to the bathroom in your bedroom.

“Meet me in the shower?” You keep your voice pitched low, looking over your shoulder and winking mischievously.

“Actually, most sex-related injuries take place during shower sex. Penile fractures, sprained ankles, there are even reports of broken ribs.” The door to the nursery clicks shut as you step through your bedroom door, not even bothering to grab an outfit before heading to the bathroom.

Spencer stands in the doorway, his shoulder leaned against the frame as you begin fiddling with the water faucet. You make sure to keep the temperature cooler than you normally would, Spencer doesn’t like the water too hot.

“So you’re telling me that you’re going to pass on our first chance to have sex since about two weeks ago because you’re afraid you might slip?” Turning to face him, you grab the hem of you nightshirt, a t-shirt he got from Caltech but never wears, and pull it up and over your head. The morning air in the bathroom nips at your skin and goosebumps form.

His eyes darken, his tongue sweeping across his lips before he steps into the bathroom. He pulls you to him by hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You didn’t bother with a bra at night.

“No, I’m just saying you’re worth the risk.” He practically growls into the soft skin connecting your neck and shoulder, his lips hot as they suck a hickey there. Hungrily, he makes quick work of his own clothes, stumbling with you into the water stream and pulling the shower curtain close behind him.

Suffice to say, you and Spencer were just a little late to work. What with your morning shower sex that, funnily enough, resulted in you slipping and hitting your head on the wall, and rushing your daughter to the nanny’s, coupled with early morning D.C. traffic, it wasn’t really a surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.” Your head throbs as you guiltily follow Spencer into the conference room, taking your seat between Garcia and Prentiss. Hotch watches you both with eyes narrowed in disapproval.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve said before that I only let tardiness slide once. I won’t say it again.” Spencer looks at you from across the table, and the man actually has the balls to wink at you in front of everyone on the team. Now they will all know that any excuse you try to come up with will all be a lie to cover up your sex life.

Sure, they already know you sleep together, for heaven’s sake you have a five month old baby together. But they didn’t need to know that you had shower sex in the morning before coming to work.

JJ clears her throat, a small smile on her face as she turns back to the screen and continues with the case briefing. Her smile fades with every passing second, each murder being splashed across the screen with every gory detail enhanced for your eyes to see.

“Every victim is a girl between the ages of sixteen and nineteen, with brown hair and blue eyes. Each bearing signs of a sexual assault, their hands cut off and a cross cut into their foreheads post mortem.” Your stomach rolls around uneasily, your chest constricting with every picture.

You make it through the entire brief without barfing. You waste no time in grabbing your go bag and calling the nanny to let her know to drop Graeson at your mother’s tonight.

The flight to small town Texas isn’t long, but the whole way your head pounds and your stomach does flips. You wave off Spencer’s worry, chalking it up to plane sickness.

“I just need a nap, I’ll be fine.” You squeeze his hand reassuringly, leaning back and closing your eyes against the nausea that rolls through you. Your fiancé shuffles a little in his seat, squeezing your hand back to get your attention.

“You hit your head this morning, pretty hard. I mean, it woke up Graeson. What if you have a concussion?” His voice is a whisper, his eyes searching for any other symptoms of a concussion. You shake your head, sure that a concussion is not your issue.

“I’m almost certain that I don’t have a concussion, Spence. It’s been hours, I remember everything, my pupils aren’t dialated, right?,” He nods, looking deep into your eyes like he could x-ray the inside of your head that way, “I don’t feel dizzy, and I’m not even tired. I just think a nap will help. I’m okay.”

“Well do you feel sick?” He lifts the back of his hand to your forehead, his knuckles cool against your skin.

It’s funny that, even just checking you for a fever, his touch is enough to heat your cheeks. You try to swallow the urge to jump his bones when you think about this morning. Pre-slipping and hitting your head.

Spencer’s lips twitch when he catches the look in your eyes, trying to focus on your fever and not the sudden blush on your cheeks coupled with the dialation of your pupils. He knows it isn’t a concussion that caused that based solely on the fact that you shift in your seat to press your thighs together.

“Somebody keep an eye on the bathroom, they might try and join the mile high club.” Morgan teases from the couch, a smirk pulling at his cheeks. You send a mischievous smirk of your own his way as Spencer pulls his hand back into his lap.

“We did that before I got pregnant, Morgan.” Prentiss laughs, JJ smiles in amusement, and Hotch is quick to enter the conversation and cease the inappropriate teasing. He assures Morgan that no one will have or has had ‘relations’ (as he so gracefully phrases it) on the jet.

You lean back into your seat again, hoping for the love of God that you don’t have a concussion and that you’ll make it to Texas without throwing up. Spencer sits beside you, pretending to read. You know he is only pretending because every time you open your eyes, he still has his finger under the same paragraph. He doesn’t even bother to flip the pages for effect.

By the time you make it to Texas, the plane jostling you around as it makes contact with the runway, bile is starting to build in your mouth.

Hotch goes over where everyone is going one more time, collecting his things as the ride smooths. You and Prentiss have been assigned to the morgue to see the latest victim, seventeen year old Hillary Gutsham. Although looking at a mutilated teenager does not sound like the best idea while you’re fighting nausea, you don’t protest.

Rossi and Morgan are sent to the house of the last victim, and Reid and JJ are dispatched to the police station to set up the evidence board and get a geographical profile started.

“My favorite.” Spencer mumbles sarcastically against your temple as he presses a kiss to your head, giving you another once over before you part ways. “Tell Prentiss if you feel sick at any time. Maybe even have the ME double check you for a concussion.”

“I’m not having the medical examiner see if I have a concussion, Spencer. I’m fine. I’ll see you later.” Not even ten minutes later, Prentiss is holding your hair as you spill your guts onto the side of the highway.

“Are you sure you aren’t sick?” She asks once you’re back on the road, glancing over at you at the same time that she takes a turn the GPS won’t stop screaming at her to take. It says you’re another five minutes away from the morgue.

The voice seems to grate against the very nerve that throbs in your head, and finally you’ve had enough of it. You shuffle around in your bag for some ibuprofen and practically moan with relief when you find it in the bottom corner. Two clear blue pills sitting side by side in plastic and tin foil packing.

“If it isn’t motion sickness then I probably just have a really bad migraine. I used to get them bad when I was a kid, don’t let Spencer get in your head. He worries too much.” You swallow the pill dry, unwilling to wait for a pit stop at a gas station or even the now three minute wait to the morgue before getting a drink to take it.

Emily doesn’t argue, trusting that you know your own body better than she does. She does, however, lean forward and turn the volume on the GPS down. You can’t help but think how much you love her for it.

At the morgue it’s quiet. The lack of car horns, massive truck engines, and overall clamor of the road is like music to your ears.

A older lady named Dr. Hardy, the ME, leads you back as she discusses her findings with Emily. You mostly just listen, going over scenarios and theories in your head as they speak. It isn’t until Dr. Hardy reveals a new bit of information that your ears perk up.

“I did find signs of sexual assault along with some semen, both of which didn’t come as a surprise after the last five victims I autopsied from your case, however, I did find out that she was fifteen weeks pregnant. I had a DNA test run on the embryo and the semenial fluid but they weren’t a match.” At the same time, Dr. Hardy lifts the white sheet from her body.

The girl underneath is young and pretty, the only thing marring her beauty would be the deeply cut cross centered on her forehead. You don’t look to the hands, knowing that they won’t be there, instead you turn the new information over and over in your head.

You gasp.

“What? What are you thinking?” Prentiss and Dr. Hardy both look at you with curious eyes, unaware that the revelation you have just made is not about the case at all. You clear your throat, shoving the thought as deep as you can so as to not let it affect your work.

“I, uhm, she’s just so young... to be a mom.” Prentiss furrows her brows because she knows you’re lying. You know she’s going to let you get away with it when they smooth back into place.

“There’s only a nine year difference between you and her, (Y/L/N).”

“Nine years is more than people like to admit.” You look away from the girl on the table, wanting to be finished already. Prentiss doesn’t start saying her goodbyes for another fourty-five minutes.

She pesters you the whole way to the police station, but gives up when you exit the car and make a beeline for Spencer. The nausea is back, your headache gone, and your nerves are so tightly wound that you feel like you can hear the rushing of your blood in your ears.

If you were right, it had been nearly two months since your last period. But surely you would have noticed long before now if you were two months pregnant? Right? You’ve been pregnant before, infact you had done it just five months ago.

The bile rises like a wave in your mouth and you swing toward the bathroom, hand flying to your mouth just in case you don’t make it to the toilet. What help would your hand be if you throw up?

Thankfully, you make it to the toilet before you have to find out, throwing up everything but your stomach during your time in the precincts lovely restroom. The tile is just the right amount of cold to help the reality set in as you lean back against the stall door.

“Please let me have a concussion, please let me have a concussion.”

[datleggy]

A Whopper Fic

Eddie invites Bosko out on a rare night off, for drinks. "Apology drinks," he reassures her, "For being such a crappy friend, before."

They start the night off drinking beers and playing pool in a seedy little bar downtown and inevitably when Lena orders a shot of tequila and downs it like it's water, Eddie says, "Jesus, how can you still drink that stuff?" He hasn't done tequila shots since his early twenties, which is just fine with him.  

She calls him a baby for drinking lite beer, "C'mon Diaz, neither of us have work tomorrow, your kid's at your aunt's place for the night, live a little, a couple of shots won't kill you, you know."

Which is how they end up getting trashed, just absolutely irrevocably shit faced at nearly three AM on a Monday, of all days, in a twenty four hour Burger King by the bar that closed and consequently kicked them out not ten minutes ago.

"Machines are down right now, sorry," the cashier says, when Eddie tries to order a meal, "Cash only."

Eddie drunkenly stumbles to the side, raising a 'wait' finger as he empties the contents of his pockets onto a small table. "Shit." he mutters. He doesn't have any cash on him, only his debit card, and if he weren't so drunk, he'd have noticed that there's a functioning ATM right outside. Instead, he gathers up the measly coins on the table and counts. "I have twenty eight cents. Is that enough?"

Lena snorts, "Enough for what?"

Eddie whines, "I just really want a whopper."

The other firefighter grins, wide. "Hey, I'll getcha a whopper," she says, leaning against the table for balance, god, she's drunk. "But only if you fake break up with your boyfriend." she dares him, surprised when Eddie doesn't even hesitate.

The screen is a blur, so it's a good thing he's got Buck on speed dial or he's not sure he would've been able to make the call. It rings only once before Buck answers it, sounding not entirely awake, but definitely alarmed. "Eddie? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"Buuuuck!" Eddie's so happy to hear his voice. He loves Buck's voice. "Hey." Lena is giggling next to him, like a middle-schooler, nudging at him.

Buck sighs on the other end, though when he speaks it's with a begrudging fondness, "Eddie, are you drunk? It's like three in the morning."

"Nooooo." Eddie laughs. "No, no, m'not drunk, I just, I needed to tell you something."

"Uh huh. What is it?" comes the deadpan reply.

"I forgot. Wait," Eddie turns to Bosko and not so quietly whispers at her, "What was I supposed to do again?" he waits for her response, which Buck can just barely make out through the phone, and then says, "Oh ok, ok, Buck, Buck, you there?"

"Yeah bud, I'm here," Buck yawns. He's got work in a few hours, he should really hang up and get back to sleep already, but he doesn't think he's ever heard Eddie this intoxicated before, and he kind of wants to see how this plays out.

"We gotta break up." Eddie blurts out. "I'm sorry, I'm still really in love with you though, I swear. But Bosko has my whopper."

Buck stares at his phone for half a second, "Uh, ok, well, we're---we're not dating?" Why is he even trying to reason with a drunk person? "Anyway, is Bosko at least more sober than you? How are you two getting home?"

Eddie sounds like he's chewing on something when he says, "No, hahaha, she is---she just tripped on her way to the bathroom and face planted. I wish I caught it on video but every time I look at my screen it's just like, super blurry Buck."

Buck sighs. "Where are you guys? I'll come pick you up."

"Burger King!" Eddie sounds like a kid who raised his hand in class and shouted the answer to a question correctly before being picked on by the teacher.

"Which one?"

"It's got, it's got like, the, that creepy life size inflatable thing outside?"

Buck chuckles. "Oh, that one. Gotcha. Alright. I'll be there in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, please stay put, ok? Both of you."

"Ok. Love you, bye."

Buck doesn't have time to come up with a retort to that before Eddie hangs up. And he certainly doesn't have time to lay in bed and question any of that conversation, either.

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

Traffic is none existent, fortunately, and Buck's Jeep is parked outside of the Burger King in under the allotted time. Eddie and Lena are sitting on the curb when he arrives. "It's Buck! Buck! See, I told you he was coming." Eddie exclaims, with a told you so attitude.

Buck makes them both sit in the back and buckles them into their seats. "But I called shotgun!" Bosko complains, folding her arms over her chest.

"No, I did!" Eddie whines.

"Well I don't want either of you barfing in my front seat, so suck it up." Buck starts his car after getting Lena's address and putting the coordinates into his GPS.

"So, so---" Lena hiccups. "Is this the first time you've had to pick your boyfriend up from," she pauses to laugh, "From a Burger King, at three AM?"

Buck raises both eyebrows. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Wait, what?" Lena quints. "Wait, you guys aren't dating? Seriously?"

Eddie leans forward, his hot breath on the back of Buck's neck. "Wait yeah, why not?" he asks, almost pitifully.

Thankfully they're rolling up to a red light, because it gives Buck the opportunity to turn around and gently shove Eddie back into his seat and make sure his seat belt is still secured. "Well, for one, now I know you'd break up with me for a whopper." He turns back around when the light turns green and drives. "And I'm the one who should be asking the questions here, what are you doing out this late? And where's Christopher, doesn't he have school in a few hours. It's Monday."

Eddie pouts. "Chris is with my Tia Peppa. And hey, it was a fake breakup! I was hungry."

Bosko starts cackling. "Ok, are you guys sure you're not together, though? Because, Buckley, you're like, all this guy talked about when I was at your station. And, and remember that time---we were at the grocery store? Diaz was all 'hey you deadbeat baby daddy, our kid misses you!'? If you two aren't dating what was that all about?"

Eddie groans, turning a bright red and tries to hide his face behind his hands.

Buck can only thank the lord that they've finally reached their first destination of the night. "Alright, c'mon," he helps Lena out, steadying her when she sways. Buck points a finger at Eddie, "Stay. I'll be right back. And don't touch anything."

Buck makes sure Lena gets inside safe and sound, and even grabs a bottle of water out of her fridge and makes her drink at least a third before leaving her to her own devices.

Eddie's asleep in the backseat by the time Buck returns, and remains that way the rest of the ride back to Buck's loft. He'd take Eddie to his place, but it's nearing four now and Buck just wants to go back to sleep in his own bed for a couple of more hours before his shift in the morning. Eddie can take his couch for tonight, he decides.

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

It's impossible to get Eddie to wake up once they're in his driveway, at least, not fully. Buck has to practically carry Eddie inside, what with his feet dragging behind him. "God, Eddie." Buck huffs out, "You're lucky I lift weights, you're not exactly light."

Getting Eddie into the loft and then across his kitchen and living room and finally laying him down on his sofa takes forever, because Eddie insists that they need to stop by the kitchen for some strawberry milk. "I know you have some of that Nesquick powder stuff!" he groggily complains, even as Buck unceremoniously tosses him onto the couch.

Buck makes Eddie sit up just enough so that he can help him gulp down a bottle of Gatorade. "Trust me, you'll want electrolytes tomorrow morning way more than you want strawberry milk right now, bud." he assures him, getting up to fetch him some covers. 

Eddie curls up on his side, snuggling into the blanket Buck wraps around him, and sighs contentedly. "Buck you're the best."

"If I'm late tomorrow I'm telling Bobby it was all your fault." Buck is finding it very hard not to think of Eddie right now as endearing, hair all tousled back like that, big brown eyes staring up at him. He bends down so that he's not hovering over him anymore and adjusts one of the throw pillows so that it's actually under Eddie's head and not just to the side of it.

"Buck, I mean it." Eddie blinks at him. "You're the best. I love you so much. We should---" he stops to admire Buck for a moment, "You're so pretty, Buck, we should, we should be boyfriends."

Buck rolls his eyes, though he can't help the dopey smile on his face. "Ask me again when you're sober."

"Ok. And then we can be boyfriends?"

Buck shrugs, still smiling. "Only if you promise not to trade me for another whopper. Now go to sleep."

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian "Hook" Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma "The Savior" Swan's career was cut short. When Hook's manager moves up and the office brings in UFC's youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3

[Chapter 1/?]

Tap gloves.

It’s not like he dreamed of being here.

Fake right hook.

Beating the shit out of someone is pretty much one of the only things that keeps Killian Jones numb.

Leg kick to left eye.

That and rum.

Elbow.

Does anyone really dream of beating the shit out of people for a living?

Left hook. Opponent stumbles.

Will Scarlett aside, he doesn’t think so.

Take down.

And maybe Jefferson… that bloke’s ring name is literally “Mad”.

Right. Left. Right. Left. Left.

He knows there’s good money in MMA, but when he got in a bar fight two—

Wrestle. Maneuver. Arm bar.

—years ago, he never thought it’d lead to this.

Tap tap tap.

Showtime.

Release a tad too late. Don’t help Graham up, let the trainers do it. Run to the side of the cage. Ramp up the fans. Arm raise.

“Hook, you just won by submission against The Huntsman. How does it feel to remain undefeated in our stacked featherweight division?”

Deep breath. Come on, Jones, put on your act for the camera.

“Issac, did you say stacked? Not gonna lie, mate, I’m not sure that term applies to me.” Well placed smirk.

Why are the lights so damn bright? He hears the crowd chanting his name, he supposes that’s because he’s on a homer card. Still unreal as ever.

“You’re probably right considering you absolutely dominated that entire match. You’re a latecomer to the sport but continue to make a name for yourself, even against much younger opponents. Is there a secret to all this fast success?”

Don’t cringe at the mention of your age; they think you want to be here.

“Aye, but if I told you on national television, it wouldn’t be a secret.” Wink at the camera. Smirk. “ Thanks for coming out, Boston!” The crowd cheers louder. “I may not have started here but I’ve called this city home for ten years now and I’ll be damned if I let you down.”

Hook! Hook! Hook! Hook!

“They love ya, Jones. Great match! Who do you wanna see next?”

“No one”, Killian thinks to himself. “ I want to get out of this bloody octagon and get some rum.” He turns to the exec table.

“I’ll take whoever you give me, Gold, no sweat. I’m going all the way to the championship, Issac. I’m in this to win it all.”

As if there’s another option.

Issac nods enthusiastically at him. Killian is apparently a better actor than he thought. “Great fight, Hook. Well, folks you heard it from the man himself. Killian “Hook” Jones wants the belt—“

Issac’s voice fades away. Killian does his obligatory selfie with his trainers, hugging Robin and heading out of the ring.

High five a fan. Selfie. Smirk at the brunette. Autograph. High five. Kiss the redhead’s knuckles. Fist bump.

Once in the locker room, he can finally breathe. Killian scrambles to shower and change, being sure to dodge Robin and August on his way out the door. He knows he’s supposed to stay for the other matches, but it’s been nine years today and he’s not in the fucking mood.

. . .

“But, Mooooom, it’s Fight Night!”

“Exactly why you’re off to bed. You’re way too young to be watching that live. I’ll show you highlights in the morning.” Emma has this conversation almost every Saturday night. She can’t blame the kid for liking UFC, he was technically conceived because of it, but nine is way too young and she’s not budging on this.

“But it’s a super good card!”

Emma rolls her eyes, “Copying what Uncle David says will get you negative points. Bed. Now. Go.”

Henry opens his mouth to argue again, but with one more look from Emma he thinks better and stomps off to bed. Emma laughs to herself knowing he’ll be out like a light in minutes, but she admires his stubbornness.

Emma finishes cleaning up the kitchen and then wanders in to check on Henry. Just as she suspected, he’s fast asleep with ESPN Magazine splayed across his lap. She shakes her head and smiles at him. Quietly, she moves the magazine, kisses him on the forehead, and shuts off the light, closing the door gently behind her.

Emma leaves Henry’s room to a knock at the door. As if on cue, David and Mary Margaret let themselves into her apartment with pizzas and a case of beer. After setting down the food, David walks up to Emma and kisses her on the temple. “Hey, sis! Henry asleep already?”

She scoffs at his lack of subtlety. “Yes, although it seems he had an accomplice in his attempts to stay awake for tonight.” Emma purses her lips knowingly as Mary Margaret slaps David’s shoulder.

“David! This show is too violent for adults let alone a nine year old .” David shrugs and turns to help his wife with the food.

As Emma gets the TV set up, Ruby shows up, barging in with a bottle of red wine and already talking a mile a minute. “Did you see the second match up?! These two are like the men of my dreams . God bless whoever decided Jones and Humbert should duke it out. I mean honestly, Ems, I may need you to turn up the air conditioning.”

Emma laughs at Ruby being… well Ruby. “Rubes, chill. I’m sure the network is fully aware of the ratings the two of them fighting will bring in.”

Mary Margaret speaks up a little too quickly, “Oh definitely! And both of them are so good, watching them fight sometimes makes me wish you still—“ She trails off at David’s hiss and Emma pretends she doesn’t notice.

“Alright, the first fight is about to start. Let’s do this.”

Despite being unable— maybe that’s not the right term— unwilling?— to fight anymore, Emma loves watching Fight Night.

Whenever she’s watching a fight she feels her body move on its own, mimicking their movements and mentally throwing punches and blocks of her own.

Emma Swan wasn’t good at much of anything, but she was a damn good fighter.

The first match is an overall bore. Going the entire 15 minutes and not even ending in a unanimous decision. Emma grabs another piece of pizza and the bowl of popcorn— thank god they let her keep the fighter rate for her gym membership— and settles in for the second fight.

Ruby is not wrong about these two.

Graham “The Huntsman” Humbert, vs. up and comer, Killian “Hook” Jones. She’s seen Graham around the circuit before, he’s somewhat of a regular face. Never doing much with his career but doing enough not to get kicked from the roster. Killian, she’s only seen fight a few times, but he trains at her gym, supposedly also based out of Boston, so she’s seen him there.

She scoffs to herself. He may have the looks, but he knows it. He approached her once, confidence seeping off of him like sweat:

“Emma ‘The Savior’ Swan.”

Emma whips around at the use of her ring name. Most people at this gym know who she is, but leave her alone to work out and go home. “Yes that’s me.” She looks up at him in hopes of serving him her best ‘get the fuck out of here’ stare, but stutters when she sees how absolutely stunning he is.

“Stunning, Emma? Really?” She thinks to herself, but then realizes there really isn’t another word for the blue of his eyes… or his British accent.

“Killian ‘Hook’ Jones.” He puts out his left hand, catching Emma off guard, most fighters being right handed. As if he could read her mind he continues, “You know, for my killer left hook.” He drops her hand with a wink.

A fucking wink. Who does this guy think he is?

“Clever.” Emma knows she’s being icy but she’s almost done with her workout and really doesn’t have time to put up with some cocky new guy.

“Aye, Gold thought so.” He smirks at her and she rolls her eyes, regretting the satisfaction it gives him immediately.

“I’m sure he did.”

“And why, ‘The Savior’, Swan? I’m not sure I know that back story.” Emma flinches at his bluntness.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She realizes she’s practically flirting before she can stop herself.

He catches her gaze, “Perhaps I would.”

She doesn’t expect such a sincere response.

Brick meet wall. Hello, darkness, my old friend or something like that.

“Huh,” she scoffs noncommittally, “Nice to meet you, Jones, but I’ve gotta get back to my work out.”

He nods, seeming a bit jilted at her lack of interest. She does her best to keep a straight face at that realization, happy to knock anyone that arrogant down a few pegs. “Aye, Swan, me as well. See you around, love.”

She takes a swig from her water bottle and almost chokes at his casual use of the pet name. “ Not your love.” He raises his hands in mock surrender and Emma carries on with her day.

Somehow the same man she was insanely annoyed by, has completely entranced her with his fighting style. It’s clean and polished, definitely trained but with this edge of a street fighter which almost seems almost instinctual.

Leg kick, elbow, left hook, take down, arm bar, submission.

Humbert didn’t have a chance.

Jones makes it look too easy.

Emma is snapped out of whatever spell she was under the moment he opens his mouth to do his interview with Issac, the same cocky asshat she spoke to in the gym now on her TV screen.

“Wait! I didn’t know he fought for Boston.” Ruby rounds on Emma. “Did you ever see him at the gym?!”

Emma shrugs, “A few times.” She refuses to tell M or Ruby about their conversation, both of them likely to twist it into some UFC enemies to lovers story that makes Emma want to barf. Lucky for Emma the next fight starts and with the sound of “Mad” Jefferson Hatter’s entrance music, and the entire room seems to forget all about Killian “Hook” Jones.

Continue on AO3

[ussthunderquack]

So.... you wanna save the story and your sanity....

.... Head-Canon! 

Tony met Shuri and got closure with Bucky between “Black Panther” and “Infinity War.” 

Even before “Infinity War” came out, I thought Tony’s new armor and the Iron Spider suit looked very Wakandan, and wadda ya know, both use bleeding armor tech. Right after Wakanda came out to the world with its technology. Tony would’ve been all over that. And obviously he would have met and worked with Shuri. And obviously Bucky would’ve wanted to see him, and T’Challa would’ve introduced the timid one-armed Jesus. 

In “Black Panther,” we do learn Shuri is a genius and a Jack of All Trades (no, not a Jill, Jack is a unisex name; Jacklyn, duh?). But, nothing suggests she specializes in robot arms or mind-control-curing. Tony on the other hand is a robotics expert, and had that BARF tech in “Civil War.” So while they were in Wakanda, Tony helped Shuri with Bucky’s mind and arm, and Shuri helped Tony with his and Peter’s new suits. 

They had banter and it was wonderful.

Tony and Bucky angst-bonded, and poured out their souls to each other, and it was agonizing and beautiful. Tony made it clear he was not angry at Bucky anymore, only Steve. (Note that in “Endgame,” Tony calls Steve “Liar!” but says nothing about “protecting my parents’ murderer.” He’s not mad at Bucky anymore.) 

Bucky’s look at Tony’s funeral could seem like that of someone who never got to apologize. But I’m gonna interpret it as that from someone who did get closure with Tony, but still will always feel guilty, and now feels like he’ll never be able to repay him. 

Look how Sam has to comfort him. And look how solemn and respectful Wanda looks. They’ve both had the heart-to-hearts with Tony they needed to, but Wanda was able to find peace in it while Bucky was not. 

Curse You and your heroic sacrifice Stark!

In addition to Shuri and Bucky, I’m also pissed Tony didn’t get to meet Hank Pym. I will frienemy-ship those two for eternity. Maybe they did at some point, between “Ant-Man” and “Ant-Man and the Wasp.” Who knows. 

But what matters is, that we we now have a wonderful new relationship for them in canon; Tony Stark is now a Woulverine to Pym’s Deadpool.

Fuck Tony Stark. First, he rides my coattails with the snarking antisocial scientist shit, which I was doing while he was in diapers. Then the hairy motherfucker ups the ante by dying. What a dick. Well, guess what, Stark? I died in one of my movies too! By Thanos! But then you’re selfless ass had to save me and my whole family and the whole universe, and die the most tear-jerky death in history, and your legacy will live on forever, god DAMN IT. 

(Above: Tony’s response from the afterlife)

Steve Rogers didn’t really interrupt Peggy’s life that much, if you pretend a little 

Option 1.) He had that one dance with her late at night, when she was so groggy that the next day she thought it was just a dream. She was allowed to marry her real husband and have her kids. Steve only went back to her years later, after her husband died of natural causes, and then they got married.

Option 2.) Steve lived his whole new life in an alternate quantum reality or some shit, so the “real” Peggy and her family were still fine in the “real” timeline, and Steve rescued Bucky from Hydra right away in that alternate reality, and then Steve came back into the previous reality through a negative spacetime wedgie or something.

Option 3.) Steve’s ending makes absolutely no sense, story-wise or character-wise....just like everything about Steve Rogers in the entire MCU. His ending makes no sense, and for him, this makes perfect sense. 

Above: the life Steve secretly always wanted, and now could live thanks to time travel. 

Steve and Nat both apologized to Tony during his recuperation after returning from the ship, and gave him a real reason for the lie.

I’ve posted the Nick Fury theory before. Basically, Nick didn’t want Earth’s best defender getting distracted or killed on a quest for revenge, and ordered Nat and Steve not to tell Tony the truth. 

Tony seems a lot less mad at Nat in “Endgame” than Steve, which makes sense, as she was only guilty of the lie (and, in this theory, following orders). What Tony is really pissed about is Steve’s behavior after the truth came out in Siberia, and his notorious “apology” letter. 

But Steve got better at apologizing and empathy. Off-screen. He does lead PTSD groups 5 years later, and he and Tony and the other characters all act like Steve has made up for his wrongs. So we can presume that he did. Just....off-screen. 

Sure it blows they couldn’t show us these things onscreen, but the movie didn’t have time for such trivial things, when it had all that very necessary slow-mo padding to fit in. 

BTW, I still know next to nothing about Hawkeye and his family. His daughter practices with the bow, and.....that’s all I know about them. How did he and Laura meet? How did Clint Barton become Hawkeye? How’d he get Nat to switch sides? Why’d he become Ronan? No time for any of that.  We have very necessary drawn-out slow-mo padding shots to focus on. 

[artificialqueens]

nobody knows where we might end up, chapter seventeen (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 5317

AN: thank you so, so much for all the continued love on this fic. it makes me so happy and my heart so full. writ is a wonderful beta <3

(then)

“We’re thinking of staying late tomorrow after Respirology to practice for the bellringers. You in?”

Brooke shrugs at Steve’s question. “Sure.” It’s not like there’s anywhere else that she has to be, anyway.

“Sweet. We need your genius brain.”

“I’m not a genius-”

“Yeah Steve, she’s not a genius. She tried to push a ‘pull’ door like, half an hour ago.” Jon snorts.

“Hey.” Brooke swats Jon’s side, sticking her tongue out at both Steve and John when they start snickering. “Sometimes doors are hard.”

It only makes sense that Brooke’s naturally gravitated towards the other gays in her class. It’s nice, not having to hide anything around them. Not that she really has much to hide in the first place.

“Bring Vanessa this time. You never shut up about her, I wanna meet her.”

Steve’s question makes Brooke bite her lip. She’s been telling the two of them that Vanessa’s been too busy to actually come to any of their sessions, to ever double date. Except the truth is that she hasn’t even asked Vanessa in the first place.

Brooke doesn’t know what’s stopping her, really. It would be nice for her girlfriend to meet some of her med school friends.

Except her and Vanessa have been…weird. Brooke doesn’t want to bring up med school things because she can see the light dim behind Vanessa’s eyes every time that she does, a reminder that Vanessa didn’t get in while she did.

So maybe, it’s just better to ignore everything. Not talk about it. Walk on eggshells.

How hard will it be to do until the end of med school, anyway? At least until Vanessa gets in somewhere next year.

God, Brooke hopes that Vanessa gets in somewhere next year. For her own sanity, more than anything else.

“She’s real busy with fourth year. They’re having midterms right now.” Brooke’s not sure if Vanessa actually has midterms at the moment, but the timing lines up from when she herself was in undergrad. It’s not like she’s going to ask Vanessa, either.

“Okay, after then. Are the two of you the type of nauseatingly gay couple that can’t keep their hands off each other?” Steve punctuates his question by wrapping an arm around Jon and pulling him close by his neck, making him scowl.

“Get off me-“

“Never.” Steve leans over to ruffle Jon’s hair, making him immediately protest, muttering under his breath.

Brooke has to hold back a laugh. Jon and Steve are the boy equivalent of watching two Detoxes interact with each other. She loves the sight.

“Nah, we’re not like that. No overt sappiness.” It’s not a lie, not really. Her and Vanessa aren’t overly nauseating anymore.

So what if they used to be the couple that would make all of their friends pretend to fake barf from how soft they were with each other? They’re not the Brooke and Vanessa that they used to be. Brooke’s not quite sure who she has to blame for that.

Maybe herself, a little bit. For snapping at Vanessa the other day for being so bitchy and short with her when she hadn’t even done anything, for treating her like shit. But then she had also brushed off Vanessa’s worries about one of her fourth year courses, forgetting to help her with the assignment she was stuck on because someone in her class had thrown a party to celebrate finishing their first set of assignments. So what if Vanessa had already been asleep by the time she had come back?

Maybe they’re both to blame.

But it’s fine, they’ll be fine. They’ve been fine for three years and counting, and they’ll continue to be so.

Right?

“And here I thought lesbians moved in and got married after knowing each other for like, 48 hours. Breaking stereotypes and all that, huh?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he flips through the textbook in front of him, ignoring the way that Jon is poking his side for the fun of it.

Brooke snorts. “To be fair, we did move in together after first year of undergrad, but that’s only because we were both moving out of dorms.”

Steve gives her a look. “And?”

“And maybe we wanted to live together. God.” Brooke rolls her eyes when Steve points a finger towards her.

“Aha! Do you two have a hoard of cats, too?”

“Yeah, we have two-”

“So you two really are stereotypical lesbians. How wholesome.” Jon pretends to place a hand over his heart.

“Insufferable, the both of you.” Brooke can’t help her grin, though. Her friends may be stupid, but she loves them.

Brooke almost doesn’t want to go home when they finish off their study session in the library, the setting sun mirroring the feeling of dread that’s beginning to take over her chest.

Riley lets out happy yips when she unlocks the door, nearly falling over from how hard his tail is wagging. She rubs his belly, giggling as he rolls over.

“Hey.” Brooke calls out to their apartment. She’s not sure if Vanessa’s home or not. Truth be told, she hasn’t really looked at Vanessa’s schedule enough for this semester to know it well.

“Hey.” Vanessa’s voice is distracted as she types away on her computer while sitting at the kitchen table.

Brooke walks over to her, placing a kiss onto the top of her head out of habit and ignoring the way that Vanessa doesn’t turn around to face her and grin, the way that she always used to. It doesn’t matter, really.

“How was class?”

“Okay.” Brooke pulls out a plate from the cupboard, intent on pulling out leftovers. “Had a guest speaker. Some guy talking about patient safety.”

Brooke doesn’t elaborate much. It’s not like Vanessa’s going to care, anyway.

“You?” Brooke keeps it light, as light as she can, as if it’ll keep the delicate glass that’s built up between them from shattering and slicing them both.

“Still working on applications. Finished all my essays.”  

“I thought you’d finished them all last week.” Brooke tilts her head, and can feel her brows furrowing because she remembers Vanessa’s whoop of delight and the way she had closed Microsoft Word with a flourish.

“I, uh. Applied to some more.” Vanessa doesn’t look up, keeps her eyes on her screen, though Brooke can see how she’s fidgeting.

“But there’s only a few in Ontario-”

“Outside of Ontario. Outside of Canada, actually.” Vanessa looks up at Brooke then, her expression one almost of challenge, of asking Brooke to protest what she’s said.

Brooke doesn’t want to take the bait, but she can’t help it. “Where outside of Canada?”

Outside of Canada would mean that Vanessa wouldn’t be nearby. But maybe Vanessa’s applied to schools near the border, ones that are driving distance and so they really wouldn’t be too long distance-

“California. LA.” Vanessa fiddles with her watch. “Got a cousin that lives there, finished school there. Big doc there. So I have an in.”  

“Oh.” Brooke doesn’t know what else to say. California? Would Vanessa really go all the way to California?

“It’s just a backup.” Vanessa turns back towards her computer. “In case the schools here don’t work out. I’m not sitting out for another year again and falling even more behind.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Brooke can’t even deny it, because it does. Hell, if she hadn’t gotten in on the first try, she’d be exhausting all of her own resources, too.

But California.

Not only on the opposite coast, but in an entirely different country.

Vanessa wouldn’t go there unless she absolutely had to, would she?

Though what would really change? Things have been so off between them, Brooke doesn’t even feel like she can properly look Vanessa in the eye. Or hug her. Or kiss her or pull her close.

Hell, the last time they had sex was weeks ago and even that was after a particularly big argument.

Steve and Jon had teased her about the hickeys on her neck for weeks.

But Brooke doesn’t want that kind of sex, not right now. She wants things to just feel normal again.

Except that she can’t help the way that she heads off to bed without even waiting for Vanessa, tucking in early because she has a class the next morning.

Brooke doesn’t want to deal with all of the unsaid words that have built up between them. It’s gotten too fucking messy.

Maybe things will just fix themselves up on their own if she waits long enough.

Brooke’s tentatively excited when Vanessa suggests a movie night one breakfast over waffles.

“Maybe we can both take a break from our work?”

“I’d like that.” Brooke can’t help the smile on her face that builds, no matter how hard she tries to temper it down.

Maybe just spending some time together will make things okay again.

Except then later in the day her Endocrinology professor holds extra office hours to prepare them for the midterm, for which the line ends up being incredibly long, and then of course she strikes up a conversation while waiting with one of her classmates about the recent readings because the subject’s just so interesting, a conversation that continues once they leave the office. And then she’s forgotten about everything else, really, when Steve texts her and asks if she wants to join him and some of their classmates for a bite at the new burrito place, the one she’s been excited about trying. And by the time she gets home it’s nearly 10:00, and she’s forgotten all about the movie night that she and Vanessa had planned - a fact that hits her with horror as she opens the door to their apartment, the realization washing over her.

“Shit.” Brooke whispers it under her breath because there’s a pile of blankets by the couch, an untouched bowl of popcorn and she’s stupid, real stupid, because how on earth did she forget?

Vanessa’s not on the couch, either. Nor is she in the kitchen, or in any of the open spaces of their apartment. The door to their bedroom is closed and the sight makes Brooke wince.

Brooke drops her jacket and backpack on the floor without a second thought, pushing their bedroom door open and Vanessa’s there, leaning against the headboard of the bed and her eyes are wide.

“Where have you been?” Vanessa’s voice quivers and Brooke can hear the hurt in it and it makes her heart feel ever so slightly heavier, pulling her down.

“Sorry Ness, I-” Brooke pauses. “I got distracted. Things were happening with office hours and people in class and I lost track of time.”

It feels flimsy, despite being the truth.

“I got class in the morning, so it’s too late to watch anything now. Not that you probably even want to.” Vanessa’s face is buried in her book again and suddenly they’re back to their avoidance of eye contact and it makes Brooke grit her teeth.

“I said sorry, okay?” It’s not Brooke’s fault that things got busy. That’s just how med school is, something that Vanessa wouldn’t know.

“Real fucking sincere.” Vanessa huffs. “Look, if you don’t wanna spend time together, at least have the decency to not stand me up. I cancelled plans for this.”

Brooke pauses at that. “What plans?”

“Why do you even care?” Vanessa spits out the words and Brooke can see the fire in her eyes and somehow it doesn’t have the effect of lighting her up, but rather, cools down her insides instead. “You clearly have more important shit to worry about.”

“Next time I’ll put a reminder in my phone, okay? I promise I won’t miss it.”

“Fuck that.” Vanessa’s arms are crossed, as if she’s steeling herself, protecting her heart from anything and everyone. From Brooke. “If something ain’t important enough for you to remember on your own? There won’t be a next time.”

Brooke rubs at her temples because she doesn’t want to do this, not now, and so what if she’d forgotten? “Listen, med school is fucking busy. All I do is study and work and revise and my brain can’t remember anything.”

Vanessa leans forward, putting her book down and it nearly makes Brooke take a step back. “All you do is-you think I don’t work my ass off, either?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“You have no idea, do you?” Vanessa’s eyes narrow. “Just ‘cause I’m still in fourth year doesn’t mean that I’m not doing shit. I’m taking five and a half credits and still volunteering, still working in the lab, and on top of that applying again for all these stupid med school programs that probably won’t even accept me, anyway. So, yeah. Miss me with that bullshit. If I can at least still try to make an effort, so can you.”

Brooke can feel tendrils wrapped in anxiety and stress worm their way around her heart, because this isn’t what tonight was supposed to be like at all. “I-”

“Fuck it. I don’t care.” Vanessa puts her book on her bedside table, scoots down in their bed until she’s lying down and under the covers. “Go study with your friends, I don’t care.”

The hollowness in Brooke’s chest as she tries to fall asleep that night is only amplified by the hurt that she had heard in Vanessa’s voice, the sound still lingering in her mind hours and hours later.

(now)

Brooke misses Vanessa.

It isn’t either of their faults, really. Both the neuro and cardiac surgical units are starting to pick up, the surgeons working overtime to balance all of the regular scheduled procedures with the influx of emergency ones.

Brooke feels like she’s been run ragged, to say the least. She’s been on call for most of the hours that she hasn’t been working this week, catching hours of sleep wherever she can while still attempting to get all of her documentation done.

Weeks like these make Brooke feel like a firefighter, one who tries to put out flames only for three more to rise in their place. Brooke normally thrives in such environments - having to think on her feet, having to triage her cases so that the most urgent ones are dealt with first, functioning and doing brain surgery on approximately two hours of sleep.

No one’s ever said that the lifestyle of surgeon is easy. Though the paycheck does make it better.

VM: got scheduled for 2 ablations, 2 valve replacements, and 1 ventricle repair. Never done so many procedures in one shift in my LIFE

Brooke looks at the text and smiles, the way her face always has a tendency to do so whenever Vanessa’s name pops up. She’s glad, in a way; that it’s not just her. That Vanessa is equally busy over on her unit.

Brooke’s found that it’s difficult for those who aren’t in the medical field to understand the crazy hours, the topsy turvy schedules, where it’s possible to have long stretches of free time followed immediately by a slammed schedule with procedure after procedure and multiple on call shifts in a row. It makes it hard to plan, sometimes, to commit. She’s used it as an excuse more than once when breaking off flings in the past.

But it’s not like that with Vanessa. It’s doesn’t have to be, when Vanessa gets it, when Vanessa is going through the same thing as her.

Plus, she doesn’t actually want to break things off with Vanessa.

Not that they’re a thing.

Are they a thing?

Brooke doesn’t know.

All she knows is that she’s missing her throughout this busy period.

BLH: So many in one day! You superstar.

VM: fully taking a bow rn

VM: how’s ur day been??

BLH: Equally slammed. I’m about to fall asleep at my desk lol.

VM: nap on the clock, I support it

VM: I miss you :((

The text makes Brooke suck in a breath. She hasn’t wanted to be the clingy one, the pushy one, the one to scare Vanessa away with how much she still cares. But the text feels like an anchor, one that helps to hold her heart in place and calm it down and keep it in reach of her favourite person.

BLH: Fuck, Ness. I miss you too.

VVM: gay

BLH: I’ve literally had my face in between your legs more times than either of us can count.

VVM: g a y

VVM: but same. our schedules need to calm tf down so I can see ur cute face before I forget what u look like completely

VVM: that’s a lie I could never forget u

BLH: Gay.

VVM: HEY

Brooke lets out a little laugh, glad that she’s alone in her office. She needs to focus on her documentation, get all of her surgical reports dictated and out of the way but trying to focus feels absolutely impossible. Especially when talking to Vanessa is so much more fun.

It’s a couple more days before Brooke has the chance to see Vanessa in person again, before their schedules calm down enough to let either of them think about something other than work for a change.

Brooke is the one who suggests it when Vanessa drops by her office at the end of their shifts, pressing a kiss on her lips.

“You busy this evening?”

“No. Why?” Vanessa tilts her head with the most adorably curious expression, and it takes everything in Brooke to not pull her close and kiss her again.

“We’ve been working hard-”

“Working our asses off-”

“-and we deserve a break, that’s all.” Brooke grins.

“What are you suggesting?” Vanessa takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around Brooke’s waist, and Brooke can already feel the heat that’s emanating between them.

“Come over?”

“Ooh, Dr. Hytes, what a proposition-”

“Shush.” Brooke shoves her lightly, but can’t help but laugh when Vanessa lets out a cackle. “Not like that. Well, maybe like that, but also just to chill out, y’know? We both deserve it.”

“I’d be down for that.” Vanessa’s beginning to look excited by the idea. “We could order in and just watch some shit and veg out.”

“Exactly. Especially because our surgery is tomorrow. We can rest up.” Their joint surgery has creeped up on the two of them faster than Brooke’s expected. She’s excited to get the chance to properly work with Vanessa, after such a long period of planning and preparation. To get the chance to see how they function together in an operating room setting.

“Would this be considered a team bonding activity?” Vanessa asks the question as they tug on their coats, picking up their bags.

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “We’re the only two members from our surgical team that are taking part.”

“Good. That’s how I like it.” Vanessa leans up to press a kiss to Brooke’s cheek. “Now come on, are you gonna take me home or not?”

Brooke falls into step with Vanessa as they leave the neuro offices, walking towards the exit when Vanessa pauses. “Shit, my wallet’s still in my office. I’d taken it out to buy lunch. Mind if we loop back before leaving?”

Brooke can’t help her curiosity as they walk through the section of cardiac offices. “I never really noticed that the cardiac offices have red accent walls.”

Vanessa snorts. “Feels a little on the nose, huh? I guess they wanted to keep up with the heart and blood theme. Kinda nasty.”

“Makes for a cool look, though. Better than our boring grey walls in neuro.” Brooke runs her hand along the wall as Vanessa unlocks her office, grabbing her wallet from the desk.

“They should have given you pink accent walls for the colour of the brain.” Vanessa locks her office up again, and Brooke can’t help but interject.

“Actually, the brain isn’t really pink, it looks like that with the blood but it’s actually an off white colour-”

Vanessa gives her a look. “Really?”

Brooke smiles sheepishly. “You knew that, didn’t you?”

“We both went to medical school, you dolt.” Vanessa links her arm through Brooke’s as they head back down the hallway, before they’re interrupted by an excited noise in an adjoining office.

“Aha!”

“What in the hell-”

Vanessa’s words are cut off when Asia slides over from her office to the hallway while still in her desk chair, pointing between the two of them.

“Now what’s going on here? ” Asia’s smile on her face is absolutely delighted as she glances at their linked arms.

“What, two people can’t walk arm in arm?” Vanessa wastes no time in responding, and Brooke’s glad for it, really, because she doesn’t exactly know what to say to Asia on the subject.

“Not when the two of you have personally caused me inner ear damage from how much you used to yell at each other. So this is quite a change.” Asia leans back on her chair, crossing her legs.

Vanessa snorts. “You look absolutely ridiculous sitting on that chair in the hallway.”

“Don’t deflect. All I’m saying is that you two seem real close.”

“It’s nice, ain’t it?” Vanessa doesn’t give Asia a chance to respond, grabbing Brooke’s hand and tugging on it before breaking out into a run and yelling down the hallway. “We’re out, bye!”

They run towards the parking lot in a fit of giggles, neither of them able to contain their laughter.

“Asia’s so gonna be on my ass about that tomorrow. Worth it.” Vanessa bends over to catch her breath, grinning up at Brooke. “So, your place?”

Brooke’s struck by the ease at which Vanessa snuggles into her side after she puts their empty takeout containers on the coffee table. As if it’s the most natural action in the world, as if they never went through years and years apart from one another.

They still haven’t talked about it, about what they are, what they’re doing, but Brooke doesn’t want to be the one to ruin the spell that’s been cast between them. She likes spending time with Vanessa, and what if Vanessa has second thoughts if they talk about it and says that she doesn’t want to do…whatever it is that they’re doing anymore?

So, she’ll take Vanessa snuggling into her side, especially if she gets to wrap an arm around her, hear her let out a content little noise, one that Brooke’s sure she’d never tire of even if she heard it a hundred times.

An episode of Schitt’s Creek is playing on the TV, one that Brooke’s seen before and she’s not paying attention, preferring to focus on Vanessa’s reactions and giggles as she watches for the first time.

“I’m gonna start saying ‘ew, Asia’ to Asia the way Alexis always says ‘ew, David’. Imagine her reaction.” Vanessa lets out a snicker. “She’d beat my ass for sure.”

Brooke snorts. “I swear, your cardiac team looks like it’s all mayhem, all the time. You included.”

“Oh, completely. Though is the neuro team any better?”

Brooke pauses. “Not in the least, actually. They’re all insane. Seems like chaos is a prerequisite to ever be able to make it to a hospital job.”

“You got that right. Speaking of,” Vanessa sits up a little so she can face Brooke, “how are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Brooke’s been trying not to think about it much, really. Surgeries don’t usually intimidate her. She can handle when complications arise, because she manages to keep complete control of the operating room and of the patient in front of her. Most of the time, anyway.

There’s something about doing a surgery with Vanessa, though, that’s making her more nervous. Biting her lip, fiddling with her hands all evening kind of nervous.

Brooke thinks that Vanessa might have noticed.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be fine.” Brooke shrugs. “It’s going to be fine, right?”

At least, that’s what Brooke’s trying to convince herself of. She’s had complex patients before, ones where she’s had to work with surgeons from other disciplines, but something about working with Vanessa, working as a team, makes her nervous.

What if she lets Vanessa down?

“I see your head already zooming at a million miles an hour. It’s going to be absolutely fine, and you know that. I know you do.” Vanessa’s looking at Brooke like she believes the words coming out of her mouth, and Brooke desperately wants to believe them too. “Remember when I shadowed one of your surgeries when I first moved back here?”

Brooke’s not sure where she’s going with it. “Yeah?”

“Didn’t want to tell you back then, ‘cause you were acting like one cocky son of a bitch, but you were good. Real good. As in textbook good, even better than good type of good. You had everyone on your team working under you like a machine, you handled shit happening in the surgery like a goddamn champ.” Vanessa grabs her hand, squeezes it, and the pressure is grounding, somehow. “You got this. Take it from someone who’s already seen you in action. And you know my ass can’t lie to save my life, so I ain’t making this shit up, either. I don’t want you to start spiralling about shit that may not even happen tomorrow.”

“How did you know I was-”

“I know you, babe.” Vanessa smiles softly. “I know when you start overthinking. Also ‘cause your grip around me suddenly got all rigid.”

Brooke snorts. “That’s more of an obvious cue, huh?”

“Maybe.” Vanessa smiles and leans over, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Now let’s just think about how great we’ll be tomorrow.”

Brooke deepens the kiss because she can’t help herself and sure, they’ve both been tired and overworked but she hasn’t properly kissed Vanessa since that day in her office, and now that she has the chance, she’s going to take it. Brooke hadn’t been the one to initiate another, not wanting to overstep. But now that Vanessa’s here, in her arms, in her apartment? She’s going to take it.

Vanessa gasps into the kiss though follows suit, wrapping her arms around Brooke’s neck, and she feels like a ball of energy, a ball of light in Brooke’s arms. One that’s so responsive, one that wastes no time in straddling Brooke, trying to close the already miniscule distance that exists between them.

It’s too much all at once but Brooke just wants more and more, more of Vanessa because there’s no way she can ever get enough. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been sleeping together the last few months because right now it feels different - every touch just a little bit more electric, every kiss making her heart beat just a little bit faster.

It’s urgent, but not like their kisses in their offices, where they had been running out of time and were afraid of getting caught. No, this feels different. As if they have all the time they would ever need, and the urgency is to make sure that they make the most of every second, every moment, to make up for everything that they’ve missed. It’s a homecoming and a reckoning all at once.

Brooke grips underneath Vanessa’s thighs, standing them up and letting Vanessa wrap her legs around her waist tightly before walking them over to her bedroom. If they’re going to do this, then they’re going to do this right, because it’s not the same anymore. They’re not the same.

Brooke lays Vanessa down on the bed and the sight of her hair splayed around her head, eyes wide as her chest rises and falls with near gasps almost takes Brooke’s breath away. She leans down, presses kisses along Vanessa’s ribcage, feeling the way her breath hitches and it’s intoxicating, making her wish that she could just make Vanessa fall apart underneath her for a living.

Brooke brings her kisses up past Vanessa’s cleavage, her neck, along the curve of her jaw but then Vanessa pushes on her shoulder, flipping them over and suddenly Brooke’s the one flat on her back. Vanessa’s waves fall in front of her face, tickling Brooke’s shoulders and cheeks, little dots of starlight that light her up like the night sky. Vanessa takes a second to tie her hair back with the elastic on her wrist, before grabbing Brooke’s face with both of her hands and kissing her again and again and again, and it makes Brooke understand what it means to have the all the stars in the universe finally within her grasp.

Brooke almost wishes that she could pause this moment, right here. Commit it to a safe part of her brain to pull out when she’s feeling empty, alone, when there’s nothing left to push her to keep moving forward. Because this? Vanessa right here, right now, making her feel like she’s glowing from the inside out? Brooke feels like it could power her for days.

Vanessa presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, pulling back to look at her and Brooke can see the softness, the adoration in her eyes, the slight shine that matches the way Brooke feels her own heart ready to burst.

There’s a part of Brooke that still nags, still plants a seed of doubt within her, thorns that fester within her bloodstream that tell her that this isn’t forever, that Vanessa’s going to leave. That this doesn’t matter the way that Brooke so desperately wants it to. But then Vanessa’s hands are soft on Brooke’s skin, unbuttoning her pants and helping her slide them off along with her panties, before crawling in between her legs and kissing up her thighs, the gentlest of touches that make Brooke cant into her for more, more, more.

Brooke’s already a mess, already coming undone because there’s something about Vanessa that always keeps her on the cusp of tipping over. Of jumping off of the cliff that Vanessa’s already gone over, because Brooke would follow her down if it meant that she could stay with her, spend more time with her. Not worrying about having to leave.

Vanessa’s kisses turn harder, deeper, making Brooke squirm and she knows she’s going to have marks on her thighs, ones left by Vanessa that only she’ll be able to see, ones that remind her of this. That Vanessa’s been here.

Brooke’s hands tighten their grip in Vanessa’s hair nonetheless, because the teasing is too much and she needs more, she needs her. Vanessa takes the hint because she’s in a giving mood, all pretenses of taking her time beginning to fade and Brooke’s nearly gone when Vanessa licks up her slit.

It amazes her still, how well Vanessa knows her body. Exactly how to get her to the edge because she still remembers, and it’s a strange sense of deja vu, though one that is heightened, everything just a little bit sharper than it used to be. Because Brooke feels everything so much more, and it scares her that she never, ever wants to lose it.

Vanessa tips Brooke over the edge when she sucks at her clit, curling her fingers upward deep inside her and it’s a marvel, really, that Brooke had ever thought that she could get over her. Could ever forget her. Vanessa presses a gentle kiss to the inside of Brooke’s thigh after she comes, pulling her fingers back, and Brooke can feel the way that the action holds so much more, tugs more on her heart than any other girl she’s been with, the way it makes it clear in her head.

Vanessa’s it, for her.

And the way that Vanessa’s looking at her, eyes full of adoration and an emotion that Brooke can’t quite decipher as she crawls back up the bed, makes Brooke think that maybe, just maybe, Vanessa gets it, too.

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.12

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

A/N: @sculptorofbeginnings… I am so sorry you had to fix all my mistakes xD

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Death.

Bamby

You leaned against the wall by the payphone, chewing on your nail while hugging Sam’s hoodie closer to you. He was on the phone, glancing over at you every few moments as he talked to whoever was on the line.

“Alright, thank you for your time.” Sighing, he hung the phone back up. “Come on.” He reached out and took your free hand before leading you back over to the table where Dean was waiting.

Just over a week had passed since the shifter case.

The bruises from the night hadn’t faded yet, reminding you of what you’d done every time you looked in the mirror. The dread and guilt you still felt from what you did… not a night went by where you didn’t dream of Dean’s dead face staring up at you. Not a night went by where you didn’t dream of the way Dean had looked while the shifter had fucked you and then hurt you.

No amount of logic had been able to erase the image, or the feelings that came with it, from your mind. Even though you knew it hadn’t actually been Dean that night, it still felt like it had been.

So you were sticking with Sam. It had been like a switch that night. After months of him practically ignoring you, seeing you kneeling on the floor, over a shifter that wore his brother’s face, had Sam rushing to your aid. Seeing you bleeding and crying… he hadn’t wasted a second before hurrying over to help you.

That night and every night since, he’d been there for you. It was like it was before, although there was no romance, nothing more than friendship and understanding. You’d gone through something terrible, and he knew you needed someone, and he knew only he would do. So, ever since then, you’d been almost practically glued to each other’s side.

Almost.

Despite having spent years desperately trying to convince the WInchesters to get you to hunt with them, you hadn’t said a word about it all week. Every time the brothers caught wind of something, you pulled back. The only thing safer than being with Sam, was staying out of danger and in whatever motel room you were holed up in.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis.” Dean grinned, teasing his brother- trying not to look at you as your gaze fell to the floor to avoid him.

“Bite me.” Sam led you over to the two seats across from Dean and waited until you sat before he took the other seat beside you.

Turning back to the laptop in front of him, Dean asked, “So, anything?”

Sam shook his head. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe’s fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”

Your head fell as your gaze dropped to your lap. Sam looked down at you, disappointed in his father and concerned for you. You were beginning to wonder if you were missing John more and more with every passing day… or less...

Dean watched you both before changing the subject, “Check this out.” He turned the computer around to show Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

Looking at the screen Sam read, “‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road’.”

“Keep reading,” Dean prompted.

“‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible’.”

“Could be something interesting.” Dean shrugged.

“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam argued. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.” He glanced at you before turning back to his brother. “I don’t think it’s our thing.”

Looking from Sam, to you, and then back, Dean hesitated a moment. In the corner of your eye you spotted the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. Something was agitating him, but he wasn’t going to say anything.

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” he noted, and just like that, you knew Sam wouldn’t be able to argue.

Sam looked out at the fraternity house Dean had parked outside of. The frat brothers that were gathered outside watched Baby, clearly confused and suspicious. You sunk down in your seat, already scenting at least three Alphas.

“One more time, why are we here?” Sam asked, turning to his brother with an are-you-serious glare.

“Victim lived here,” Dean answered as if it were that simple.

“You really think this is a good idea?” Sam gestured to you in the back. “Will they even let her in?”

Dean turned to you. “She’s college age, smells like us, Omega, hot… girlfriends sleep over boyfriends’ places all the time.” He turned back to Sam. “Besides, the only motel in town is fully booked, so if you have a different idea…”

Clenching his jaw- much like his brother often did- Sam stayed quiet. Truth was, you really didn’t have many options.

“I’ll be okay,” you spoke up, voice soft.

Sam looked at you with concern and doubt. “Yeah?”

Giving a short nod, you offered him a small smile. “Yeah.”

With that, the three of you climbed out of the car and headed over to a couple of guys who were fixing a car in the driveway. As you approached them, they all stopped working and looked up, eyeing all of you suspiciously.

“Nice wheels,” Dean started, trying to ease the tension. “We’re your fraternity brothers.” He gestured to himself and Sam. “From Ohio. We’re new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay.”

Dragging his eyes away from Dean, the guy standing by the car’s hood looked to you. “Who’s the chick?” He gave the air a sniff. “She’s Omega…”

You sniffed the air back, noting a distinct Alpha scent. Instantly, you stepped closer to Sam. “I’m his girlfriend. Mate-to-be, if you will.”

Sam’s arm draped over your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him, proving your point. “That gonna be a problem?”

The Alpha tried to hide his disappointment as he shrugged. “Chick can stay one night without problems, but the dean doesn’t like Omegas shacking up with pledged Alphas.”

Before you or Sam could comment, Dean shrugged. “We’ll figure it out later. But we’re cool now?”

Giving a short moment’s pause, the Alpha then nodded. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

The Sam had a firm grip on your hand as you followed Dean through the frat house to the room you were directed to. You could feel the tension in his body as his eyes darted around. The place stuck of Alphas, Beta, booze, and sex. It reeked like nothing had been cleaned in over a week. You were struggling not to barf or hide.

Dean didn’t seem to notice or care. You knew he normally would… but things weren’t normal right now. He was pissed, you were avoiding him, and Sam was taking up the Alpha role currently. Things were out of synch.

Walking into the room the boys would call home during the case, you came to a stop at the sight of a scrawny, shirtless guy standing in front of a mirror, painting himself purple.

Knocking on the door, Dean grabbed the guy’s attention. “Who are you?” he asked as soon as he spotted the three of you.

“We’re your new roommates,” Dean answered with a quick smile as he walked further into the room.

The guy stopped what he was doing and frowned at you. “She’s a chick.”

“You’re observant,” you mumbled, sniffing at the air discreetly. He was a harmless Beta.

“She’s Sammy’s girlfriend,” Dean explained with a slight bite to his tone. “And she’s staying for the night. You got a problem with that?”

Looking you and Sam up and down quickly, the Beta then shook his head. “Nah, just as long as you do whatever you do quietly. I don’t mind if you get your freak on, but some of us don’t wanna listen to it.”

It took a lot for Sam to hold back and not rip into the guy.

Not realising how lucky he was to still be standing, the guy turned to Dean and offered him his paint brush. “Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today.”

Without missing a beat, Dean gestured to Sam. “He’s the artist. Things he can do with a brush.”

Having no other choice, Sam took the brush as Dean dropped into a chair and grabbed a magazine. You stood there, awkwardly, as Sam started painting the Beta and Dean started asking questions.

“So…” Dean checked the name on the magazine before going on, “Murph. Is it true?”

“What?”

“We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week.”

Murph’s face fell as he nodded. “Yeah.”

“What happened?” Sam asked as he continued to paint the Beta.

“They’re saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy.”

“Rich he was with somebody?”

Murph turned to look at Sam as he answered, clearly thinking whatever he had to say was juicy news. “Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen.”

“Who’s Lori Sorensen?” Dean pressed before gesturing to Murph’s back. “You missed a spot. Just down there, in the back,” Dean told Sam, earning a glare as he grinned.

“Lori’s a freshman,” Murph explained. “She’s a local. Super hot. Omega. And get this... she’s a reverend’s daughter.”

Interest piqued, Dean closed the magazine and tossed it back onto the table he grabbed it from, before leaning forward in the chair. “You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would ya?”

Dean opened the door and took a step to the side, waiting for you and Sam to walk into the church before he followed, letting the door close behind him. It slammed shut, disturbing the congression, causing them all to turn to the three off you. The silent church but you on edge as all eyes looked at you with suspicion.

Moving on, the reverend continued, “The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings.”

Sam pressed a hand to your back as he guided you into the back pew. He then slid in to sit beside you, before Dean took a seat on Sam’s other side. You didn’t miss the way a girl in the front row turned to look at the three of you. You didn’t miss the way Sam gave her a weak smile.

“So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.”

Both you and Sam bowed your head along with everyone else. As you closed your eyes and pretended to pray, however, you found yourself wishing and hoping that things would get better.

Walking behind Sam and Dean, you followed them as they headed towards the girl who had looked back at Sam in the church.

“Are you Lori?”

Hearing her name, the girl turned to answer Sam, “Yeah.”

“My name is Sam,” he started. “This is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Y/N.” Dean gave a little wave, while you offered a small smile. “We just transferred here to the university.”

“I saw you inside,” she noted.

“We don’t wanna bother you,” Sam assured her. “We just heard about what happened and-”

Dean cut him off, “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

Sam smiled sympathetically. “I kind of know what you’re going through. I-I saw someone… get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Lori’s head dropped as she nodded lightly. Before she could respond, however, the reverend- her father- appeared beside her. “Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and Y/N. They’re new students.”

Reaching out, Dean shook the reverend's hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.”

Chuckling lightly, Dean looked to Sam, knowing he needed to come up with something so his brother could ask Lori more questions without her father around. “Listen, uh, we’re new in town and we’re staying at the fraternity Rich was part of. But the thing is, Y/N can’t stay there.”

“Of course not.” The reverend nodded. “That is no place for a young Omega.”

“Well, we were wondering if you knew anywhere she might be able to stay?”

Your head snapped up to look at him. You glared, hard, trying your best to mentally kick him in the shins. How dare he throw you under the bus like that!

Ignoring you, Dean went on, “You know, somewhere safe, quiet. We’d join her, but having just transferred, we really need to make connections, you know?”

“She could stay with me,” Lori offered. “There’s a spare bed in my room, back at my sorority. She doesn’t have to pledge, at least not right away. The girls will understand.”

“That’s a lovely idea.” The reverend smiled at his daughter before turning to you. “For now, dear, why don’t I get you some numbers of people you can call if you ever find yourself in trouble? In times like this, you can never be too careful.” He stretched his arm out and gestured for you to walk along with him.

Glancing at Sam and Lori over your shoulder, you begrudgingly followed Dean and the reverend as he led you back into the church.

After Lori showed you her room at the sorority house and explained that she would be out for the night but would be back later, you both went your separate ways. She headed off home for dinner with her dad, while you started for the public library.

Sam had sent you a message to fill you in on their Hook Man theory, and told you where to find them. It was still weird to see his name on your phone every time he called or messaged. Before that awful night the other week, you’d gotten practically nothing from him.

Meandering through the aisle of books, you eventually found Sam and Dean sitting at one of the back desks, going through piles of paperwork.

“Hey.”

Both brothers’ heads shot up to look at you, relief filling their gazes. They worried when you weren’t with them.

“How’d the tour go?” Sam asked as you settled into the seat beside him- you didn’t miss the look of disappointment that crossed Dean’s face.

“Lori seems nice. Scared, but nice.”

Dean spoke then, drawing your attention to him, “You gonna be okay there tonight?”

“Not like I have much of a choice now.” You glared at him.

He shrugged. “Well, it got you talking to me.”

Your mouth snapped shut as your eyes fell to the table. Both brothers watched you for a moment, waiting to see what you might say or do. When you remained silent and unmoving, they got back to work.

Eventually, you mumbled, “I’m not, not talking to you, Dean.”

“You sure about that? You’ve barely looked at me since-” He stopped himself before he made the mistake of saying the wrong words. Sighing, he moved on, “You barely look at me.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, when you’re ready to talk about it, fill me in, okay?”

“Guys,” Sam pulled back from the file he’d been reading. “Check this out. 1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh’.”

Dean reached over and slid one of the other pages from the file out to read it. “Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.”

Sam pointed to another page. “Look where all this happened.”

“9 Mile Road.”

“Isn’t that where Rick was killed?” you asked.

Both brothers nodded before Dean slapped Sam on the back. “Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let’s check it out.” He pushed his chair out and started to stand.

Sam was gathering the papers when he glanced at you. “You coming with us?”

“Am I going to the place where a murderous ghost takes his victims?” You promptly shook your head. “No thanks.”

The bedroom door creaked open.

You looked up from your book right in time to see Lori slip into the room and close the door. She looked over at you as you sat up in bed, lit up by the dim lamp beside you. Then she looked to the other bed, where her friend and other roommate, Taylor, was fast asleep.

“They didn’t make you drink tequila shots and watch Reality Bites, did they?” she asked you, keeping her voice barely above a whisper.

Shaking your head, you closed your book and placed it on the nightstand. “They tried, but I don’t cave easily.”

Her lips tugged up into a smile. “No one else has managed to say no to those girls,” she admitted. “Makes me stand out from the crowd.”

“Well, you’ve got me to stand out with you now.”

Smiling a little wider, she gestured over her shoulder to the walk in wardrobe. “I’m just going to quickly change, okay?”

You simple gave her a quick nod.

As she ducked into the room, you reached over and turned the lamp off. Settling into bed, you tried not to think about what Sam and Dean might be doing. You knew they could be in danger out there, and it scared you, but there was nothing you could do about it now.

Lori emerged from the wardrobe, dressed in an oversized shirt. She slipped into her bed and turned over to look at you. “So… I hope you don’t mind me asking…”

“The bruises?” you asked, having noticed her checking them out earlier. When she nodded, you did your best to explain without actually explaining, “I was attacked, by an Alpha. Sam saved me.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“I’m sorry about what you went through.”

Her face fell. “Rich… I thought he was a nice guy, but that night he was different.”

“Different how?”

“He was acting like the Alphas my father warns me about. He was… he was determined.”

“Do you think he would have hurt you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But I know he would have pressured me, and that’s still wrong.”

She had a point.

“Is Sam… is Sam your boyfriend?” she asked hesitantly.

You paused and contemplated the question and the answer. Was he your boyfriend? Simply put, no. He wasn’t. But nothing was ever simple. Sam might not be your boyfriend, but he was something. He’d been something more before. Hell, even though things were weird right now, Dean was something more, too. But neither of them were your boyfriend. It was all very complicated.

“No,” you finally answered, shaking your head. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”

Lori’s scream woke you.

Shooting up in bed, your eyes instantly landed on the other bed… on Taylor’s body and the blood that had seeped into her sheets and spilled onto the floor. Written on the walls, as if it had been carved into the drywall with a bloody knife- or bloody hook- was a message.

Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light.

Jumping out of bed, you hurried over to Lori as she continued to scream. “Come on.” You grabbed her arm and started towards the door.

It flew open before you could reach it as some of the other girls came in to check what was going on.

“Move!” you yelled shoving them all out of there. “Someone call 911!”

As more girls began to scream and freak out, others jumped to action. You didn’t wait to give anymore orders or to help, though. Instead you hurried down the stairs, your arm wrapped around Lori as you led her out the front.

The instant fresh air swept over her face, she started to hyperventilate.

“Hey.” You grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look at you. “The cops are coming. Just look at me and breathe, okay? Look at me and breathe.”

Lori was clinging to you as you both sat on the edge of the ambulance. She’s only just managed to calm down and stop crying, and was now staring off, in shock. Your hand rubbed at her back, trying to soothe her a little more. You hadn’t left her side since the cops and ambulance had arrived.

The sound of a rumbling and familiar engine caught your attention. Looking up, you spotted Sam and Dean parking across the road.

“Hey…” you turned to Lori, “I’m gonna go talk to them, okay?”

Her grip on you tightened. “Stay with me at my home tonight?”

“Of course.” You nodded and offered a gentle smile. With that, she let you go and watched as you headed over to Sam and Dean, who were now standing by the Impala.

As soon as you reached them, Dean stepped forward and pulled you to his chest. With the shock from this morning, you didn’t even flinch as he held you closer.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, cheek pressed to the top of your head as his arms remained wrapped around you.

“Lori’s roommate was killed last night.”

Instantly, you were pulled back as both brothers looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Her roommate?” Dean asked.

“Were you in the room, too?” Sam added.

You nodded. “She was barely five feet from my bed.”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other before looking up at the house.

“The cops aren’t letting anyone but the sorority girls inside,” you noted, knowing where their train of thought was going. “But I can get you in.”

Leading the brothers down a path, you quickly checked to make sure no one was watching before you jumped through some bushes. It took a moment, but the brothers followed. You were in the backyard of the sorority house, by the garage.

“Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road.” Sam had a good point.

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested.

You were almost at the balcony that led into Lori’s room when two girls walked out.

All three of you ducked behind some bushes and a wall, watching as the girls walked off towards the cops down the driveway.

“Dude, sorority girls.” Dean grinned, making you turn to him. “Did you have a naked pillow fight last night?”

“I read a book while the girls did tequila shots. And then I slept while a girl was murdered in the bed beside mine,” you told him tightly.

He swallowed thickly as his grin dropped, being replaced by a guilty and apologetic look.

Once the coast was clear, you turned and looked up at the balcony above. “Give me a boost.”

Both brothers stepped forward, but Dean was closest. You swear you heard Sam huff as Dean helped you.

Dean bent his knee so you could step onto it, and as you went to hoist yourself up had grabbed the backs of your thighs and pushed. The flare of heat that flashed through you almost made you stumble.

Reaching for the balcony railing, with Dean still pushing you up, you managed to hoist yourself over the edge. Sam was next, taking advantage of his brother’s position and using Dean’s bent leg much like you had. Then the two of you helped Dean, grabbing his hands to pull him up.

As soon as you were all on your feet, you led the brothers to a window that led into the wardrobe of Lori’s room. Sliding in, you waited for them to then join you.

Dean went last, stumbling and grunting a little.

“Be quiet,” Sam scolded as softly as possible.

“You be quiet!” Dean snapped back in a harsh whisper.

“You be quiet!”

You turned on them. “Quit your bickering and shut up,” you hissed. “Follow me.”

Edging towards the door, you peeked out and spotted the sheriff pacing the room. Holding a hand up, you gestured for the brothers to stay back while you watched and waited. Soon enough, the sheriff walked out, leaving the room empty.

Ducking out the wardrobe, you took a step to the side and gestured to the still bloody, and now taped off, bed.

The brothers spotted the writing on the wall in an instant.

“‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’,” Sam read. “That’s right out of the legend.”

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose pointedly. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

Sam grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before.”

“I didn’t notice it,” you admitted.

“You were too busy getting the hell out of here, that’s why,” Dean noted, stepping towards you. “You okay?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I was in here last night, Dean. I was sitting on that bed. “You gestured to the bed you’d occupied last night. “I was awake when Lori came home. I was reading, the lamp was on, Taylor was fine. I swear.”

Without a word, he pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

Despite what had happened the other week, even though you weren’t completely over it, you were glad to have Dean. The feel of him, being surrounded by his scent, it helped calm you down. If it wasn’t for him and Sam, you were sure you’d be a mess. No one should be able to just walk away, unscathed, from the scene you’d woken up to.

“Hey, come here.”

Pulling away from you, Dean dropped his hand into yours and led you back over to his brother.

Sam gestured to the symbol carved into the all below the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”

Between Dean’s legs as he sat on Baby’s hood, the two of you looked to Sam as he sat beside his brother, checking out one of the pages from the dead priest’s file.

“It’s the same symbol.” Sam turned to paper so you and Dean could see what he was talking about. He pointed to the medallion hanging from the hook. “Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns.”

“All right, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down.” Dean shrugged.

“‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave’,” Sam read.

Well… there goes that plan. Can’t burn bones you can’t find.

“Super,” Dean grumbled, giving your hip a tap.

You stepped away from him and moved aside, watching as the brothers pushed off the car and started toward their door. You were right behind Sam, heading for your own door.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam noted.

“I’ll take a wild guess about why.” Dean gave you and Sam a pointed look. “I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this,” he said before getting in the car.

“Speaking of which,” you ducked into your seat, “can you drop me off at the church?”

“How come?” Sam asked as he got in the car as well.

“Promised Lori I would stay with her, and their home is right next to the church,” you explained.

Dean grinned as he turned the ignition. “You makin’ a friend over there, Y/N?”

“I get her, she gets me, it’s pretty simple Dean.”

When you thought about this place and the people, you realised how welcoming and understanding they were. You knew you could trust Lori, that there was nothing truly complicated about her. The sorority girls had been nice, as well as everyone at the church. People were very kind to young and unmated Omegas.

It was pretty easy to see yourself settling down in a place like this, but picturing it and living it were two very different things. You knew there was no way you were ever going to have that apple pie life. Not when you knew so much about things most people didn’t even realise were real.

Bamby

[jtsodergren]

The Best of 2019

2019, what an exceptional year for movies! A great way to close out the shittiest decade! Here are the 50 best films I saw this year... click on the title to go to the IMDB page, and I’ll try to post a link to where you can see many of them. Also for the first time this year, I’m including MOM WARNINGS! My mom reads this list and sometimes actually watches these movies... so to save her some grief, sadness, or general concern for my psyche, there will be a NOT FOR MOMS!! warning where applicable... here we go!

50. STAR WARS - EPISODE IX: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER (Amazon)

People really hated this movie... I actually really liked it! Aside from the horses running around on the outside of spaceships (which makes no fucking sense... didn’t Leia get all space frozen exactly one movie ago??), it was a satisfying conclusion to a franchise I guess I don’t really care about as much as other people, so I was into it!

49. JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 3 - PARABELLUM (Amazon)

Quickly becoming one of the more well produced action franchises of all time. Probably two too many machine gun shootouts in this one for me (I get a little exhausted with gun violence), but the hand-to-hand stuff is brilliant and bloody and badass! Not to mention the deepening of the mythology and Halle Berry and her dogs. It’s a fun time, a welcome addition to the series, and I can’t wait for number 4.

48. QUEEN & SLIM (Amazon)

Billed as the black BONNIE AND CLYDE and from first time feature director Melina Matsoukas, this atmospheric tragedy is gorgeous to look at, delivers a pair of standout lead performances, and proves to have one of the more stressful final 30min of any of the films I saw this year, even if you know the inevitable conclusion is just around the corner.

47. UNDER THE SILVER LAKE (Amazon PRIME)

A wild Los Angeles noir story from the director of IT FOLLOWS. Plays like if David Lynch directed THE BIG LEBOWSKI, a weird, screwball whodunit. It’s a little long, and there are so many loose ends that seem to be thrown in just to fuck with the protagonist (and the audience), but it’s a really fun time and you’ll want to stay to the end to see it all play out. LA looks gorgeous too.

46. KNOCK DOWN THE HOUSE (Netflix)

Truly inspiring. Really shows how if you put your mind to something, believe in yourself and that you can make a difference, you can accomplish anything. Regardless of your political leanings, or how you feel about AOC personally, this is well worth your time and it has a great message for young people, especially those young women of color who might not think they can achieve great levels of success. It made me cry the happy tears.

45. LONG DAY’S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT (Amazon)

Best known for it’s remarkable 59min-3D final take, this hallucinatory journey through memory and dreams is mind-blowing and breathtaking. Hard not to leave this one feeling like you’ve been put though some kind of experiment that you don’t fully understand, but you’ll want to experience again. Highly recommended if you have access to 3D, or simply have some killer edibles and want to be thrown for a loop.

44. CLIMAX (Amazon PRIME)

NOT FOR MOMS!!

Speaking of being under the influence, holy shit is this film nuts! From Gaspar Noe, who if you’re aware of his work, you kind of already know what you’re in store for here. It’s been described as “FAME directed by the Marquis de Sade”... incredible dance sequences and audacious camerawork that slowly but surely devolves into hell. It’s a blast!

43. HAIL SATAN? (Hulu)

A fresh and funny documentary about a group of smartass Satanists exposing the hypocrisy amongst bible-thumping Christians who’d rather stomp their feet and be the loudest in the room than listen to anyone else’s perspective. Frustrating and entertaining in equal parts, this compulsively watchable film makes you want to scream at these Jesus freaks as much as you want to laugh along with the antics of these harmless, intelligent and organized troublemakers. An excellent time well spent.

42. FIRST LOVE (Amazon)

(Probably) NOT FOR MOMS!!

Director Takashi Miike’s yakuza action-comedy is the most accessible of his films I’ve seen (he’s now made more than 100 movies, which is insane), but that doesn’t mean it’s not a gonzo wild time at the movies. The violence is here in full force, but unlike AUDITION or ICHI THE KILLER, you don’t need a barf bag close by to enjoy it. It’s often hilarious and moves at a breakneck speed. Super fun!

41. THE DEAD DON’T DIE (Amazon PRIME)

Jim Jarmusch’s star-studded, droll zombie-comedy came and went from theaters without much fanfare, but provided me with plenty of laughs. It’s also the second of 3 Adam Driver vehicles to be on this year’s list. Bill Murray and Driver lead the way along with plenty familiar faces in cameos throughout (including the RZA in one of my favorite scene’s of the year). Classic Jarmusch... a meditation on death and mortality in his vintage style.

40. EL CAMINO: A BREAKING BAD MOVIE (Netflix)

Dude, Aaron Paul is a legit GREAT actor. Picks up right where the show left off, and I was on the edge of my seat and filled with anxiety just like I was during the best moments of the now classic series. It was good to hang out with my old friends again.

39. DOCTOR SLEEP (Amazon)

A box office flop due to poor promotion and a title people weren’t familiar with, this sequel to THE SHINING is based on the Stephen King book of the same name, which I read, and I can’t recommend it more. Great suspense, and fantastic performances from both Ewan McGregor and (especially) Rebecca Ferguson. It’s a dark and scary film that is a fun trip back to the Overlook Hotel... provided you wish to return there...

38. THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO (Amazon PRIME)

About 90min into this beautifully shot film I was ready to lock it in as a possible Top 5 contender. Then the bottom fell out for me the last quarter of the movie and lost my confidence. No bother, it’s still wonderful enough to find a spot on the list and carry my recommendation. Young men and women watching their city change before their eyes, and wondering what the concept of “home” really means is a real challenge facing many people here in the Bay Area. This film does a fantastic job conveying that, for most of the film anyway. 

37. THE PEANUT BUTTER FALCON (Amazon)

A bonafide crown-pleaser of a movie, and another example of the true talent Shia LeBeouf has and is capable of (more on him later). A young man with Down Syndrome escapes his assisted-living facility to track down his wrestling idol the Saltwater Redneck with the help of an outlaw and a social worker. Sweet, funny, and heartfelt... a feel good surprise.

36. A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD (Amazon)

I didn’t cry nearly as much as I did during the excellent documentary WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR from last year, but if you’re a Mr. Rogers fan, you’ll still shed a few during this heartwarming film. Tom Hanks does his thing, and even though this movie is guilty of borrowing a little too much from the previous doc, it’s still a great showcase for the truly selfless and beautiful force of nature that Fred Rogers was. Bring tissues anyway.

35. CARMINE STREET GUITARS (In Theaters Now)

A love letter to both New York City and the art, joy, and love that goes into honing and maintaining one’s craft. Meanwhile the looming doom of gentrification hovers over the proceedings, never letting you get fully enrapt in the sweetness that these artists (and their many famous customers) exude when talking about and playing their one-of-a-kind works of art. A stunning and lovely piece for musicians and talentless fans of music alike.

34. HOLIDAY (Amazon)

NOT FOR MOMS!!

A tough, cold film with nary a character to actively root for... until after about an hour of icy behavior comes (no pun intended) a scene so shocking in its graphic and disturbing nature, people left the theater without staying for the final resolution. First time director Isabella Eklof pulls off the bold and audacious maneuver, all while making it seem like she doesn’t care whether you like her characters (or her film) at all. It’s a very fine balancing act, executed to perfection. But be warned... it’s rough.

33. AVENGERS: ENDGAME (Disney+)

What can I say? You saw it. It’s good. A bunch of Supermans fly around and blow shit up. A satisfying end (until the next 20 films).

32. MIDSOMMAR (Amazon Prime)

NOT FOR MOMS!!

A disturbing slow burn of a gothic horror film. Characters do hallucinogens while ritualistic religious murders and tribal mating practices threaten to ruin everyones existence. Florence Pugh is phenomenal (more from her in a minute) in a very trying roll. Doesn’t pack quite the punch of the director’s last film, HEREDITARY, but it’s still well worth the watch. But yeah, it’s disturbing.

31. APOLLO 11 (Hulu)

A fascinating look at the first moon landing from rarely seen archival footage and audio. Seeing it on the IMAX screen was intense and exhilarating, unlike narrative pictures like the severely overrated FIRST MAN. This isn’t my favorite documentary of the year, but it is an absolute lock to win the Academy Award for Best Doc of 2019. It’s a must see, a must experience.

30. HIGH LIFE (Amazon PRIME)

NOT FOR MOMS!!

French auteur Claire Denis’ bizarre, erotic sci-fi mindfuck about isolation and humanity is not for everyone, but is a brilliant take on the genre, and is yet another showcase for Robert Pattinson, who is quietly becoming one of my favorite working actors. Juliette Binoche also is on fire here and has what one critic calls “the single greatest one-person sex scene in the history of cinema.” So it has that going for it.

29. TRIPLE FRONTIER (Netflix)

A fully loaded heist film with no real bad guy, but instead a group of recognizable badasses in a Netflix-released action thrill ride. There’s absolutely no reason this should’ve worked, or even been half as good as it is, but boy is it good! Compulsively watchable, and rewatchable. If this were on Showtime as much as DEN OF THIEVES is I’d have seen it 30 times by now. It’s one of the most pleasant surprises of the year.

28. 1917 (Amazon)

An unbelievable visual achievement from cinematographer Roger Deakins and director Sam Mendes. The story isn’t the greatest war story ever told (are there great war stories?), but it’s shot to look like one continuous long take, sustained for 2hrs. It’s really an unbelievable feat, but doesn’t come off as gimmicky or distracting. It’s intense, beautifully staged, and sad. A big screen spectacle. 

27. TOY STORY 4 (Amazon)

Woody and the gang are back, and the films continue to keep the dust from collecting. It’s still so much fun to hang out with this group of misfit toys. There was talk that after the incredible TOY STORY 3 this was just a money grab and was labeled unnecessary, but I found it to be a sweet, charming, and nostalgic trip I was glad I took.

26. HONEYLAND (Hulu)

My pick for documentary of the year comes from the mountains of Macedonia, where a woman named Hatidze lives with her dying mother making a living cultivating honey. When a family of shitheads moves into a shanty next door, what seems like a fix for her lonely existence becomes catastrophic as they disregard her teachings and threaten her livelihood. I was an emotional wreck throughout the experience and it goes without saying it’s a must-see. Gorgeous and heartbreaking.

25. LITTLE WOMEN (Amazon)

I have never read the book, nor seen any of the film adaptations, so I went in blind to this lovely film. Director Greta Gerwig follows up the phenomenal LADYBIRD with this Altman-esque rendition of the widely beloved literary classic. I found it exceptional in its execution and performances, including the previously mentioned Florence Pugh, who is a knockout. A wonderful addition to the ever-growing stable of Christmas films I look to enjoy during future Decembers.

24. GREENER GRASS (Hulu)

It’s as if Tim & Eric made BLUE VELVET. Bizarre, outrageous, gross, and a guaranteed future midnight movie favorite. My sides hurt. A satire skewering upper-middle class suburban soccer moms and dads alike. Babies are given away. A boy turns into a dog. Everyone has braces. There’s a creep on the loose. It’s wild and flat-out hilarious literally from start to finish. Almost too many jokes to keep up with. Watch it! Bring weed. 

23. RELAXER (Amazon)

NOT FOR MOMS!!

Speaking of gross, this film is disgusting, but in a good way. A satire about lazy consumerism and self-destruction. It’s a short hang, thankfully, but if you can stomach it to the end (remember, it’s nasty) you’ll be rewarded with not only a hilarious dark comedy, but also an unexpected haymaker of sadness you didn’t see coming. It’s a pretty impressive feat, and an overall success. But, yeah, it’s fucking gross. 

22. AD ASTRA (Amazon)

APOCALYPSE NOW in space starring Brad Pitt. If you need more information than that, I don’t really know what else to do for you. 

21. SLUT IN A GOOD WAY (Amazon PRIME)

(Probably) NOT FOR MOMS!!

A black-and-white raunchy French arthouse teen comedy that gives a middle finger to the double standard set by the equally raunchy teen-boys-will-be-boys genre. It’s so much fun, and honest, and the actors are such natural talents you forget the subject matter is at times shocking (only because of said double standard) and just go with it. I think it’s just wonderful. Seek it out!

20. US (HBO)

Jordan Peele’s excellent follow-up to GET OUT. Doppelganger home invasion terror with a killer twist. To describe more would be to risk giving something away. I’ll just say that Lupita Nyong’o is my pick to win her second Oscar, this time as Best Actress, here in a dual role. She’s incredible. If you haven’t seen it, try to go in blind, you’ll be rewarded.

19. THE FAREWELL (Amazon PRIME)

A heartfelt homecoming film about family, culture, and how the things we don’t say can be just as strong of a show of love as the things we do say. It’s sweet, tender, and bursting with personal flare and emotions from director Lulu Wang. Awkwafina also curbs her more manic and loud tendencies as a performer for more quiet, thoughtful, and somber choices. She’s phenomenal. 

18. KNIVES OUT (Amazon)

A clever ensemble whodunit that’s just as funny and smart as it is mysterious. Everyone across the board delivers as the assorted motley crew. The film rewards repeat viewings and Daniel Craig knocks it out of the park, stealing every scene he’s in, reminding us all what a fantastic actor he can be when he’s not sipping the Vespers. 

17. BOOKSMART (Hulu)

The female SUPERBAD is the elevator pitch, but this coming-of-age gem is really unlike any other example in the genre. They’re privileged, uber-smart, and have never partied. Yet they have the same neuroses as any other teen scared to death of what to do next or how to be normal. It’s also fucking hilarious. You wanna hang out with these girls and at the same time bury your head under the covers because you feel their pure terror/embarrassment. It’s a blast.

16. THE MUSTANG (Amazon)

Starring Matthias Schoenaerts, one of the finest actor’s working today, this understated and emotional drama about rehabilitation and redemption floored me upon first viewing. It is a gorgeous film. You’ve probably seen stories similar to this before, but rarely is one told with such compelling conviction. A borderline masterpiece. 

15. HONEY BOY (Amazon PRIME)

Remember a few years back we had the McConaissance, where everything Matthew McConaughey did was solid gold after years of middling bullshit? I’m calling it right now: Shia LaBeouf is about to have the same thing. He wrote the script and plays a version of his own father in a brutal version of his own fucked up childhood as an up-and-coming child actor. It’s heartbreaking and absolutely riveting. I’m hoping he gets an Oscar nod, but regardless I implore you to seek this film out, he’s incredible. 

14. MONOS (Hulu)

(Probably) NOT FOR MOMS!!

A bizarre, bewildering, chaotic, and unsettling film. Some of the most beautiful photography I saw on the big screen this year, yet some of the most surreal and disturbing imagery as well. It’s a militarized, Latin American LORD OF THE FLIES with commentary on tribal behavior and violence. It can be a tough sit, but boy is it beautiful. 

13. DOLEMITE IS MY NAME (Netflix)

What a wonderful, welcome surprise! Eddie Murphy in an awards caliber performance as Rudy Ray Moore, the multi-hyphenate performer who created the alter ego Dolemite, spawning a film franchise and many legendary comedy albums. It’s obviously hilarious, and a great behind-the-scenes biopic, but also shockingly sweet and heartfelt, even between all the cuss words. I even teared up a couple times. The 3rd best thing Netflix released this year (more on that in a minute).

12. JOKER (Amazon)

You already saw this.

11. THE IRISHMAN (Netflix)

It’s far too long. It could’ve done with being cut as a three part miniseries or special. There’s about 45min worth of scenes that are quintessential DVD bonus features (I’m looking at you Action Bronson), but goddamn if it’s not Scorsese doing his Scorsese thing. It’s a gangster film, but it’s also a meditation on aging and death. Pesci is incredible and Pacino steals the show. Sure, the de-aging thing is distracting, the curb stomping scene is embarrassing. But still, I mean... IT’S MARTIN SCORSESE!

10. PAIN AND GLORY (Amazon)

Pedro Almodovar’s most personal work to date, a tale about making art and the loneliness of love. If you are unfamiliar with his work, this is a great jumping off point. His movies can be challenging and dark, but this film has such joy and hope amongst the heartache. The final reveal, while not earth shattering on paper, is nonetheless so moving it left the screening I attended without a dry eye in the place. It is his best film yet. 

9. THE LIGHTHOUSE (Amazon)

From the director of THE WITCH comes another type of gothic horror, this time with the legendary Willem Dafoe and the (already mentioned) brilliant Robert Pattinson marooned on a lighthouse rock alone to drive each other completely insane. It’s hallucinatory, violent, disorienting, and flat-out brilliant. If it weren’t for another guy we’ll get to in a minute, Dafoe would be a lock for Best Supporting Actor here. It’s a slightly challenging film, with the period style mariner dialogue, but it’s just as funny as it is terrifying.

8. JOJO RABBIT (Amazon)

A beautiful, touching, funny, crowd-pleasing comedy about a little Nazi whose imaginary friend is Hitler. Yep, your read that correctly. There are about a million reasons this should absolutely not work. Yet, it’s one of the best theater going experiences I had this year. A must see... ESPECIALLY with Mom!

7. MARRIAGE STORY (Netflix)

The best written and acted film of the year, and the third Adam Driver vehicle to appear here. Sad but honest. Touching but brutal. It’s awkward and a bit of a bummer, but there’s such great work being done here, in front of and behind the camera. Noah Baumbach is a force of nature, and has yet to make a film I was even iffy about. He’s the real deal and this might be his masterpiece. 

6. WAVES (Amazon)

Speaking of auteurs, Trey Edward Shults is now 3/3 on features after the brilliant KRISHA and IT COMES AT NIGHT. Here he follows a middle-class black family, led by a domineering father, through a tragic moment in all of their lives. The first half deals with the son’s story, then abruptly switches to the daughter’s life post said event. It shouldn’t work, yet somehow manages to be one of the most emotionally affecting pieces of art I saw this year. The camera never stops moving, constantly swirling and whirling and you can’t help to be sucked up into it. It’s a beautiful tragedy.

5. LONG SHOT (HBO)

The biggest and most pleasant surprise of the year. An opposites-attract rom-com with more brains, bite, social commentary, and laughs than it has any right to have. Easily the most fun you’ll have with (almost) the whole family... there’s a lot of cum jokes. But don’t let the vulgarity dissuade you! It’s a total riot with just the right amount of sweetness to balance out the saltiness. I love love love this movie.

4. THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE (Hulu)

What starts as a strange, dark comedy morphs into a FIGHT CLUB-esque thriller with allusions to disturbingly toxic masculinity and an offbeat take on what it takes to “be a man.” It is laugh-out-loud hilarious, and expertly made, while really having something to say, and it says it in a way I’ve never really seen before. It’s not surprising this didn’t get more attention, the characters are truly difficult to relate to, let alone root for, but as far as originality goes, you’d be hard pressed to find anything this year much better than this. 

3. UNCUT GEMS (Amazon)

(Probably) NOT FOR MOMS!!

The cinematic equivalent of being locked in the brain of a lunatic having a cocaine-fueled anxiety attack. If that sounds like fun (AND IT IS!!!) then this is the film for you! Oh, and Adam Sandler is going to be nominated for an Oscar for Best Actor. For real. It’s a chaotic, stress-filled masterpiece.

2. ONCE UPON A TIME... IN HOLLYWOOD (Amazon)

My favorite filmmaker’s 2nd best film. A personal story about the love of film during the late 60s, a time of dirty hippies and Charles Manson, as well as the passing of the torch from old Hollywood to the “golden age” of cinema. It’s a fairytale of sorts, with Tarantino’s trademark flare for spontaneous violence and mining multiple genres to make his most mature work since PULP FICTION. I’ve been rewarded with new takeaways upon each subsequent viewing, and my love and appreciation for it only grows and grows. Brad Pitt is a lock for Best Supporting Actor, he’s magnificent. It was always going to be my #1 with a bullet no matter what, because it’s just that great...

1. PARASITE (Amazon)

...but then Bong Joon-ho, the master of new Korean cinema unleashed PARASITE. Not only is it the best film of 2019, it’s one of the best films I have ever seen. Like EVER ever. He is in such astonishing control of his craft it’s hard not to sit back and marvel and the sheer skill on display. You can be laughing one moment and then recoiling in horror during the same breath. He’s using multiple genre tropes, incredible set design, pitch perfect acting/writing, and such exquisite planning you can’t possibly know what’s in store for you from one scene to the next. It is an absolute masterpiece and if it doesn’t sweep every category it’s nominated for at this year’s Oscars, it’ll be a travesty. If you have even a passing interest in film as an art form, the power it can wield, and the messages it can convey, you owe it to yourself to see this film. It’s perfect.

Well, there it is. Thanks for reading any part of this. Now go see PARASITE. I love you.

[amysantiagoisfone]

When I’m with you

Based on “I Like Me Better” by LAUV

special thanks for @sergeantames​ for proofreading and @detectivejacob​ for suggesting the song! 

Read on Ao3

(Psst, if you wanna suggest a song and a ship, my ask box is always open!)

--

Jake knew that this night could become a grand disaster from the moment Amy came into the restaurant. Knowing that the stakes were high on this date got his tongue tied and he wondered why he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about his feelings and just go on being miserable while Amy lived happily ever after with Teddy and their co-owned Pilsner brewery.

Yet here they were, no longer just colleagues, with eight kamikaze shots between them to crush down the barrier their computer screens back at the precinct built up.

“I’m just saying that you’d look bad with long hair!” Amy reasoned, her voice deafeningly loud after her second drink.

Jake stared at an old lady who shook her head behind his date’s back until she turned back to her own plate.

“And I’m saying that you’re wrong and that you would have had the biggest crush on me in highschool.” Jake continued, cocking an eyebrow while Amy took another bite of her plate, washing it down with water.

“Well, after a makeover, the whole awkward puberty phase, a haircut and another haircut- yeah, that can work” Amy grinned before she lifted her third shot, waiting for Jake to do the same.

“What are we drinking for now?” Jake asked. “We’ve already drank for haircuts on the last one.”

Amy let out a soft hum, looking up as if she was deep in thought. “To change,” Amy declared, their shots clinking as Jake’s smile softened. “To change,” He repeated, before he gulped down his shot.

--

“We are definitely too drunk to drive,” Jake observed, their hands intertwined together as Amy’s smirk grew mischievous.  

“I’m drunk enough to drive, baby,” Amy said in a sultry manner, wrapping Jake’s arm around her shoulders.

Jake looked at his date for a moment, taken back by the sharp imagery Amy’s voice guided him to. Her free arm wrapped tightly around his hip and the sharp scent of alcohol did more than graze his nose.  

Jake’s own head was spinning slightly, and even if his apartment was a short walking distance, he didn’t trust neither himself nor four-drink Amy to bind them to their rules at the moment.

Instead of flirting back with the endless remarks he could’ve thrown in after that, all Jake said was- “Taxi!” whistling and making a yellow car stop in front of them.

Once they got in, Jake told the driver Amy’s address, who was now resting her head against Jake’s chest, her hand tugging at his jeans mindlessly- or so Jake hoped.

He leaned his head back and swallowed the sour feeling of barf at the edge of his throat, but instead of the usual groaning and whining he’d be up to by now about how alcohol is evil and how his tummy feels like a washing machine that got electrocuted, he reached back and put Amy’s seat belt around her, lifting her head slightly so he could look at her.

“Ames? D’you feel like throwing up because I’d really want to have that window open if that’s the case,” To his relief, Amy shook her head no.

“Just sleepy. I can hold the vomit ‘till I get to my bathroom.” She assured, making Jake snort, his lips parting with a toothy grin. Who knew that caring for someone this much would be a great cure for being drunk?

“Yeah, I’ll just go and-” Jake mumbled, reaching over and opening the window anyways, just in case.

“Hey, Santiago,” Jake said, receiving a groggy “Yeah?” in return, her sleepy features mending into a smile as she looked up at him.

The way Amy’s eyes, usually wide and in-control looked at Jake, with a trusting, calm manner already gave him the answer to the question he didn’t have to ask. This date was as fun for her as it was for him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, okay? I won’t get you up the stairs and we’ll both have to sleep outside.” Jake said, a bit of warning in his voice.

“You’ll stay with me if I sleep outside?” Amy asked, her voice softer than it was before. Dreamier, in a way.

“I could just take your keys and sl-” Jake started, only for Amy to interrupt him.

“No,” She cupped his cheeks, kissing him quickly. “Stay.”

--

“Ugh,” Amy exclaimed, placing the giant glass of water Jake gave her on the coffee table, now empty.

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked, leaning on the wall with his own glass, trying to melt his headache away.

Amy didn’t have to answer as her eyes widened and her hands rushed to her mouth. She got on her feet and practically sprinted to the bathroom, Jake following suit.

It was now Jake’s turn to “Ugh,” Before he placed his glass on the sink counter, kneeling next to Amy and pulling her hair back.

“Any better?” Jake asked once Amy pulled herself off the toilet seat, running his hand through her hair, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Yup. I am never drinking again.” She promised, reaching up to the counter so she could stand up.

Jake’s hand slid to Amy’s arm, balancing her while clinging onto the edge of the sink himself, groaning as he helped her stand in front of the mirror, only now noticing how bright Amy’s bathroom lighting was, pressing his forearm against his eyes. “Ames, brush your teeth, you’ll thank me later.” Jake said, blinking quickly as he got used to the horrible light, closing the toilet seat and flushing it.

“Fine, mom.” She rolled her eyes while Jake leaned back against the counter, staying close just in case Amy feels worse again.

Her eyes seemed more focused than before now that she had less booze in her system, and Jake snorted, his shoulders shaking with his suppressed laughter.

“What?” Amy asked around her toothbrush, cocking an eyebrow at Jake as she brushed over her front teeth.

“You are such a lightweight, god,” Jake muttered, and the now-flushed Amy responded with a smack on his shoulder.

“Ow, mean!” Jake said, pouting dramatically as he rubbed over his shoulder.

Amy took Jake’s glass, gurgling the water in it before she spit it out. She cleaned her toothbrush and put it in its’ place, turning to lean against the counter, next to Jake.

“Thanks. For the date, and for this.” Amy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You too. I had fun tonight, and this goes on the good dates list…?” Jake asked, leaning his head to the side and waiting for Amy’s answer, which came as a nod.

“I think this is the only good date I’ve ever been through that ended well even if someone yarfed,” Jake said, Amy’s eyes widening as she shook her head, leaning it back with a strained moan.

“Oh my god, I’m never going to hear the end of it.” She got off the counter, starting to walk towards the door.

She didn’t get far before her head started spinning, so she sat on the toilet, letting out a heavy breath.

“Lightweight,” Jake repeated after he made sure Amy wasn’t hurt, leaning in front of her with a relieved sigh.

Once she looked up at him, Amy couldn’t help but let her hands wrap around his shoulders. Jake’s face was so close, all she needed to do was straighten her back to reach him.

The moment she did, Jake’s hands held her. One hand was on her side as the other stayed on her knee, fingernails pushing in against her dress slightly, probably out of surprise.

In her mission of getting closer to Jake, Amy pushed herself off the toilet seat, resulting in a loud bang as Jake’s back hit the open bathroom door. He ignored it, though, focusing on the fact that Amy’s fingers ran through his hair, her warm, fast breathing tingling his cheek.

“Wait- wait,” Jake said, squeezing Amy’s side so she’d listen to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We’ve both been drinking, and, and the rules-”

“Since when do you care about rules?” Amy said, cutting him off. She sounded surprised, and Jake didn’t blame her- He didn’t have an answer for that query himself.

He placed his hand on Amy’s arm, looking away from her. “I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it.”

Jake shrugged, knowing that he couldn’t take his words back. There was one thing he didn’t know, though- whether he wanted to take them back. He waited for something between him and Amy to happen for so long that jeopardizing it for one night seemed impossible.

With the guide of Amy’s fingers on his chin, Jake looked up to see a smile on her face. A kind smile. A sure smile.

“And that’s how I know,” Amy muttered, her thumb grazing Jake’s cheek. “That I won’t regret it.”

Jake’s lips parted as he let out a sigh that got caught between Amy’s lips, both smiling into each other’s mouths.

--

“Hey,” Was the first word Jake heard that morning. Just a quiet whisper as he began to register the hand that held his shoulder, and the face that leaned over his own.

He smiled before his eyes even opened, busting his cover as sleeping.

“What time is it?” Jake asked, craning his neck to reach Amy’s lips, slowly turning to face her.

“Six thirty.”

“What?!”

“I know, I know! I shouldn’t have let you sleep in!”

Jake’s head pushed back, his lips in a grimace. “Okay, six thirty is definitely not sleeping in. You wake up like this every day?”

Amy smacked his chest, leaning her head on her hand. “Maybe you’d actually get to work on time if you didn’t wake up at a quarter to nine,” She reasoned.

“With the traffic in Brooklyn? I wake up at half past eight, babe.” Jake didn’t even think before he called Amy “babe”, as if it was something he did a million times already. Still, it put a smile on both of their faces.

When Jake leaned in to kiss Amy, she quickly got up. The blanket still wrapped around her, leaving him with his boxers and nothing more.

Amy picked up his plaid shirt from the floor before she shrugged it on, buttoning it up and making sure they were all lined up before she threw the blanket over Jake’s body.

His eyes, though, couldn’t get enough of Amy in his shirt, with a smile that caught him momentariously.

“So now I get the good side of waking up at six thirty,” Jake said, reaching his hand out for Amy’s, trying to coax her back to bed.

She let go of it soon enough, her tongue poking from between her lips as she went towards the door. “Get up or now or you won’t get breakfast!”

“Santiago, you can’t cook.”

“I can put cereal in a bowl with milk, Jake. There’s an NYPD shirt in that drawer over there that you can borrow.”

“I doubt that,” Jake muttered, mostly to himself, before he opened the drawer Amy gestured towards before she left the room.

--

“I still can’t believe you don’t even know how to make cereal,” Jake said once more, even after they were half finished with their bowls. They were both sitting crossed legged as they watched Arthur reruns, the only thing that wasn’t news this early in the morning.

“I put my cereal before the milk like a normal person, Jake.” Amy answered before she ate another spoonful of Cheerios, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I just like the crunch, okay?” Jake reasoned, and he couldn’t help but smile as Amy did as well, shaking her head and looking down at her bowl.

This was something he could get used to fairly quickly. Amy in his clothes, arguing about cereal, the relaxation that dawned on him the moment he saw that she was okay.

“I feel like this isn’t the last time we’ll do this,” Jake said, smiling as he looked at Amy, finishing up on his own bowl of Cheerios.

“I’d say you’re right.” Amy turned towards him, kissing his cheek. She then leaned on his shoulder while Jake wrapped his arm around her, closing his eyes.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Blue skies fade to grey

                                                                                                                              Anonymous asked:                                                       

If you're still taking prompts how about Peter sick at decathlon practice with Ned and MJ. Your fics are always a delight!            

Thank you for that prompt! I added some Irondaddying at the end because I´m not yet at the stage where I would write a Peter fic without Tony showing up, but I hope you like it anyways! Emeto and fever ahead.

“Because Columbus didn´t discover America,” MJ says pointedly.

“Of course he did! That´s like, primary school stuff,” Ned replies, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“You can´t just discover a place in which millions of people are already living,” MJ points out, “Just because most of them were slaughtered by the settlers doesn´t mean they didn´t exist. That´s white arrogance at its peak.”

Peter sighs. The two of them have been arguing about that question since Mr. Harrington had sent them into a break from their weekly Decathlon practice.

“God, MJ...it´s just a silly question.” But even Ned doesn´t know how to counter her anymore. He turns to Peter.

“Dude, say something. You´re awefully quiet today.”

Peter really doesn´t feel up to human interaction. He´d woken up with a sour throat and a heaviness in his limbs that have by now turned into what he is pretty sure is a fever well into the triple digits.

The only reason he didn´t leave school early was that going to the nurse and having her call aunt May had seemed more strenuous than simply dozing in his chair at the back of the classroom, which is what he has been doing during the larger part of the day.

Now, however, he regrets his decision. He feels dead tired, his head is throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat, and on top of all his stomach is starting to feel funy. He swallows, which hurts.

“She´s right, Ned.” he says tiredly.

“That´s all you´re gonna contribute?”

“He's sick, dude.” MJ interrupts.

“Huh?” Ned seems honestly surprised.

“Come on, it's really obvious, isn't it? He must've caught that bug that knocked out half the school last week.“

Peter just glares at her. The way MJ often simply knows things noone else does reminds him of Black Widow, which reminds him of Iron Man, which reminds him of the fact that their last mission together had been more than two weeks ago...

As if on clue, his phone beeps with a text from Tony. Peter squints at the screen, the bright light searing his eyes. Lab afternoon today. I´m in the area, will pick you up from school.

If he wasn´t feeling so miserable, he would laugh at Tony´s unquestioned assumption that Peter doesn´t have anything better to do in the middle of a school week. But then again, both him and Tony know very well that Peter would shift absolutely everything for a few hours of tinkering in the lab.

"You want a biscuit?” Ned offers, pushing a juicy chocolate cookie into his direction.

Peter just shakes his head. His stomach clenches at the mention of food. He takes a tentative sip of water, but realizes that it was the wrong decision when the droplets clunk together to form a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach. He could swear he can feel it moving around.

“Wow, you are turning green.” Ned observes with far too much enthusiasm.

Why does this always have to happen when he's sick? Since he was a kid, Peter could never just have a cold like normal people, but would instead get feverish and nauseous every time he caught something.

He swallows again, but it´s more like a gulp this time.

“You´re gonna barf?” MJ glances at him with something like scientific interest, while Ned looks outright disgusted now. Great friends he has.

There´s an ugly taste in his mouth which alone is enough to make him sick. Peter can feel saliva pooling under his tongue. Without answering he bolts upright and makes a break for the toilet, but he is hardly out on the corridor when his mouth fills with vomit. He presses a sleeved hand across his face when the first gag forces bile through his lips.

Peter pushes the door of the common bathroom open with his shoulder and barely makes it over the toilet before a gush of liquidy vomit explodes from his mouth. He has no time to breath before the next heave comes up. It contains large chunks of something he ate last night, and the sight of it is enough to make him retch again.

He hangs his head over the bowl and gasps for air when his stomach contracts once more, pushing hot  and bitter bile up his throat. He coughs and spits a few times until he's sure he's empty, but even then he can't bring himself to move.

The ongoing pain in his stomach adds to the pounding of his feverish head. Peter feels dirty. His jacket sleeve is soiled and reeking of sick, and he´s got stains of vomit on his T-shirt as well.

When Peter decides that he will simply stay on the bathroom floor until the next morning unless someone beams him home directly, he suddenly hears a commotion from outside. He can make out Tony's voice.

Peter knows he needs to get to him before Ned or MJ say anything embarrassing. Like telling about the videos he shows to Ned, for example, or recounting the slightly exaggerated stories of fighting side by side with Iron Man.

Peter is already out of the door before the vertigo catches up with him and his vision turns black for a couple of seconds.

“Whoa, kid!” Tony catches him at his shoulder when he sways heavily.

“You know you could've just texted that you're sick, right?“

“I´m - I´m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says sheepishly. He suddenly feels very stupid.

“Your friends were helpful enough to tell me what´s going on. After asking for an autograph, that is.”

Peter feels his cheeks turn red. That is precisely what he´d wanted to avoid. There´s an awkward silence for a moment which is interrupted by MJ elbowing Ned in the ribs.

“You can close your mouth now,” she comments.

Ned, who had been staring at Tony with the same mixture of fascination and disbelief that Peter is sure he displayed that first day the older man showed up at his appartment, blushes deeper than Peter would have ever thought possible.

“OhmygodItalkedtoironman,” he squeaks, a little belatedly.

Peter knows he should probably say something to make the situation less awkward, but he doesn´t really have the strength to come up with ideas right now. The cold wall in his back is sending shivers up and down his spine, and his legs are growing a little weak beneath him.

“I think I´m just gonna sit down,” he murmurs, while letting himself slide onto the all-but-clean school floor.

“I sure as hell think you´re gonna go home now.” Tony states, a hint of irritation in his voice. “I don´t even know why you´re at school in the first place with a fever like that.”

Only the thought of the long bus ride is enough to make Peter tired. He doesn´t even want to get up, let alone walk the near infinity till the station.

“In a little bit,” he says, avoiding Tony´s eyes.

“You could just ask me, you know?” the older man sighs. “God, kiddo, you´re a handfull.”

He pulls Peter up and motions at Ned, who´s still standing frozen on the same spot.

“Hey, fanboy, make yourself useful and get his backpack. I´m dropping him home. And no, you can´t ride with me. Interns only,” he adds before Ned has even opened his mouth. Despite feeling ill, this makes Peter chuckle a bit.

“Thanks, dude,” he mumbles when Ned hands him the rucksack. “See you tomorrow.”

“Take a day off, Peter.” MJ says, and although her tone is cool, Peter is almost sure he sees a bit of concern flashing in her eyes.

He tries not to lean too much on Tony while they walk the short distance to the parking lot. There's a heavy bruise on the older man´s jaw that hadn´t been there the last time they met, and Peter longs to ask about it, but he's not sure whether he would be able to follow a lenghty story right now.

“You´re off from the internship until you are cleared from any danger of contaminating my lab.” Tony says in a serious tone, but with a wink of his eye.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.” Peter answers. He hesitates, then: “Thank you, for, like, dropping me.”

“No worries. But next time you´re sick, just stay at home.” Tony replies. “It´s not worth the trouble if you pass out in a public place. Trust me, I´m speaking from experience.”

He opens the door of his car and ushers Peter inside. Maybe he´s imagining it, but Peter thinks that Tony´s hand stays on his shoulder a little bit longer than necessary. 

“And just to make it clear, if you puke in my car, I´m never letting you ride with me again.”

[ikonislife]

iKON x Teased GF 1

-iKON x Female Reader

- Maknae line: Chanwoo, Junhoe, Donghyuk, Hanbin

a/n: I never know if Hanbin is part of the maknae line or the hyung line hahaha. Also, I know the request say GF and the part with Hanbin isn’t exactly that but you know, they’ll get there eventually so I cheated a little bit (:

Chanwoo:

From day one, Chanwoo had always admired your work ethic and how passionate you are with every performance. Being a maknae and having debuted not too long after your group, he remembered himself staring in awe, watching performance after performance on the small screen on his phone during break or after a long torturous training session. You had always took his breath away, entranced him with how fierce you look and how strong your stage persona is. He used to think you could probably take down a whole herd of zombie all on your own if it comes down to it...

Staring at you now, squirming on the floor whining like a cat at your older members to stop tickling you, he’s not so sure about the zombie thing anymore. You were rolling around in your pink pajama set with bunny prints on it while swatting the pairs of hands digging into your sides and armpits. You glare over his way, large body comfortably making the couch that normally fit three of your members at once looking like a throne befitting of a king. He stays quiet, a chillingly handsome grin playing on his lips as he stare straight at the scene playing out without uttering a single word to defend you. 

He had gotten used to your cute side, which came to him as a surprise because really, who would’ve thought the world between the performer and the real you was so vast. He was so scared meeting you for the first time thinking the resting bitch face, the ice cold glare were all part of the experience but he couldn’t be more wrong. Hanbin had mentioned to him your group waiting room was just next door and he hoped with all his might that he could see you, itching for just a glance with the 10th bathroom break he had taken in the hour. By the time iKON had taken their stage, Chanwoo had given up of his chance to see you in real life. Yet as the sweaty boys, still elated with the adrenaline given by thousands screaming fans sauntering their way down the hall, a loud kitten liked yelp had stolen the heavy pants right out of their chests.

“Oh my God, it’s iKon!” 

You had come running smiling brighter than the freaking sun, eyes beaming with amazement, excitement coursing through your veins from the nervous seal clap ringing through the empty hall. Recalling it now, he swore you could’ve bounce right off the wall if you wanted to. Your leader trailed not too far behind, hand rubbing her nose bridge like a mother watching her kid mortifying outburst in public. At the sight of a senior group, the boys all immediately bowed deeply saying a polite hello. The second you noticed they had heard your antic, you hid behind your leader and the other members in embarrassment.

“Hello, we really enjoyed your stage tonight.” Your leader started to speak but Chanwoo could only kept his eyes on your shy ones still timidly playing hide and seek behind your members. He caught you peeking his way and broke out in a soft smile, chuckling a bit when you stick your hand out and did a little wave at him. You took all his breath away once more but for a very different reason. 

The rest was a blur because now he was sitting in your dorm living room as if he had always belonged here. How could someone be so intimidating on stage be softer than a baby cat in real life, he didn’t know, and honestly, Chanwoo really couldn’t careless. He loves the way you interact with your own members. How you’d rub up to the oldest two as if they’re your parents, or cheekily pulling prank at the ones you know will never get mad at you. Needless to say, your cry for help hit deaf ears as he sit there giggling at how much badass Y/n struggling to get away from her gentle older sisters. It’s adorable to the max the way you whine his name asking him to use his giant body to shield you then only frown when he just watches. 

“Jung Chanwoo, don’t you dare help her. We’ll change the passcode on the door if you do. You’ll never see her again!” Your older members warns him from the sideline.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, noona. I’m still scare of you guys.” He replies, reveling in your pouty lips and twinkling eyes before you break out in painful laughter.

“That’s right. You hear that, maknae. You’re so dead now, switching out my regular tea for a flavored one. You know I despise peach with a passion.”

When she finally let you go after the 10 millionth apology, you huff away to your room leaving him giggling in the living room at your cute anger. You mutter for him to go away but who can struggle against a giant teddy bear using all his strength to hug away whatever anger might be lingering. He presses kisses everywhere, apologizing for not helping.

“I’m sorry, babe. You know your leader is scarier than Hanbin and Jiwon hyung combined. I’ll make it up to you. Come on, stop frowning. Don’t be mad. You know I love watching you having fun with your sisters.”

“No, you’re a jerk. I was not having fun. Tickling used to be a torture method back in ye olden days you know.” You grumble, crossing your arms in total annoyance. 

“What if I take you to dinner, then milk tea after, theeeen I’ll let you onto my evil-maknae secrets.” Lips mirroring your pouts, he nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a big kiss. 

“Fine! I’m doing it for the milk tea.” You finally relent to his love, returning the kisses  and wrapping your arms around his torso as he sighs softly thinking your pouty lips will be the death of him.

Junhoe:

At the chance of a rare long break, all your members packed up with plans of going home before the management change their mind. Well... all, except you. Just so happened your parents had decided to take a long trip for their 25th anniversary leaving you with nowhere to go, and no place to be. Grumpy and sad, you called Junhoe and much to your delight, he had learned of this news long before the words had gotten to you. As a way to make up for the endless failed dates and never having enough time to even hug you properly, Junhoe had planned a whole fun filled week. You’d be lying if guilt isn’t the first thing on your mind watching his eyes glossing over in sorrow as if the distant and time apart was entirely his fault. Hell, he’s not even at fault, this lifestyle you’ve both chosen... There’s no telling what the future hold even if your hearts are in the right place.  

It was suppose to be a peaceful day for Junhoe and yourself. Nothing but relaxation after months long of grueling tour for him and promotion for you. At least it had started out that way... He had arrived bright and early with a big smile on his lips and coffees in hands. Running straight into his arms, you could sense all the sadness from feeling left out watching all your member packing for their trip dissipated slowly with the small fleet of kisses he’s planting along your cheeks and hair. 

“Ugh, gross. You two better not be doing things I wouldn’t do when we’re all gone.”  As always, being the second youngest in the group, she’ll take any chance she gets at teasing you because well, you’re the only one she could pick on without consequences. She winked, grabbing her phone from the coffee table in the living room. 

“UNNIE, NO!”  You yelped loudly, face instantly heating up like a volcano. 

“You know they will. Just please, not on the dinning table or the couch or anything in the public area. We eat and enjoy wholesome family activities here. We’d like to keep it clean.” Your second oldest whizzed by, hands gesturing to the spacious living room resembling much of the cargo hold of a plane at the moment, luggages strewn messily across the floor. 

“OH MY GOD! Can you guys stop?" You groaned loudy, earning a glare from the two. “Please?” You added as you dug your face deeper into Junhoe’s chest, feeling it rumbled under the hearty chuckle he was heaving. You couldn’t care for any of the teasing at the moment, not with the way his arms were slowing constricting tighter around your body. Neither of you had seen much of each other the past few months with him constantly flying in and out to Japan, you yourself were constantly at shoots or doing music shows. Although you couldn’t deny the way every inch of your skin slowly burning from embarrassment.

“What? We were just saying you know, make good choices. Don’t do drug, don’t drink then barf all over the living room. The carpet is very expensive you know. If you spill wine or kimchi chigae all over the white rug, leader will kill you. You’re the one getting all red and defensive for no reason. Gutter mind! Is she always this dirty minded around you too, Junhoe?” 

By the smug look and smirks proudly donned on their faces, you knew you lost the battle. Normally you’d be too aware, too sarcastic and witty for them to get the better of you. Try as they might, you always have a comeback. This time, you knew you were royally screwed by how hard they’re laughing. You got so wrapped up in the comfort provided by the boy who was laughing his ass off instead of helping you that your defend was shot.

“June~ help me~~~~” Instead of coming to your aid, Junhoe still just stood there laughing along with your older members.

“Ah! she’s mild around me, noona. She’s like a puppy, just give her food and she’ll be happy.” He quipped, winking at your members who were now practically rolling laughing on the floor.

“MILD?! MILD?!!!! I’LL SHOW Y’ALL MILD.” You screeched, nearly blowing everyone ears off before huffing away.

“Oh no, we’re in trouble now. She’s getting the leader.” Feigning fear, the younger retorted while wiping off a tear falling from her eyes from laughing so hard while the older one giving Junhoe a thumb up for getting under your skin. Sure enough, you came back not even a minute later, tucked under the leader’s arm with a frown on your face. She hugged you tight before glaring back at the other two still wheezing in tear.

“Alright, cut it off you two. She’s gonna cry if you don’t stop.” At the fearsome leader’s words, the two members shut up quick, although still snickering a bit under their breath. Meanwhile, Junhoe just sat back on the dinning chair enjoying the whole show. He’s loving the fact that his sassy girlfriend finally got one up at her own game. “Finish packing, managers is gonna be here to pick us up soon. You two haven’t finished cleaning your room yet, do that after packing.” You grinned smugly listening to the leader barking order at the now frowning members eyeing their messy room through the ajar bedroom’s door. You stuck your tongue out at them to which they return the favor with an irritation note to their expression. “ You missy...” Your eyes immediately on the eldest now. “...Keep our room clean when I’m gone. Keep the nasty business in the bedroom BUT on your OWN bed only, got it? I don’t need you having sex on my desk either, I compose on there. The last thing I need is to have that images intruding my writing process.” She said without missing a beat with a well placed shudder at the word “images”. Your jaw nearly dropped at the leader who usually baby you through everything. You withdrawn your arms immediately before clutching your heart dramatically. The booming laughter of the other two and your boyfriend shook the whole building like an earthquake.

“Leader-nim, how could you?” You backed away, straight into Junhoe’s body with a loud “oof” before he reached out and engulfed your body into his embrace once again.

“Okay, she’s going to cry for real now. Noona, you guys get to leave but I’m dealing with her for a whole week without any help. She’s already whining enough about you guys leaving, let’s cut her some slack.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head to which you swat away unsuccessfully. 

“Sorry baby maknae, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. It’s not often you got no witty response.”

You gave them a disgusted glare before pushing Junhoe off your body. Sulking in the corner, you didn’t even bother saying bye when the managers came and whisked all your member away. You gave a small peace sign when all three waved bye to which they simply laughed before heading off. 

Alone now, you stood up dragging Junhoe toward the door before futilely shoving him out into the hall. He firmly planted his feet to the ground and no matter how much effort you exerted, he wouldn’t budge.

“Okay, come on babe. They were just having a little fun.”

“Go away. I hate you. You were no help.”

“I’m sorry, okay? You’re so cute when you sulk. What if I say my super secret plan for this week involve the beach?”

“You’re still not staying. Also, I’m breaking up with you.”

“It also involve the animal conservation... and I may or may not have gotten special VIP passes to pet the meerkats and the panda... I won’t say whose name is on the passes, all I know is she’s my girlfriend...” He mused the plan out loud, watching your brows slowly diffused from their previously furrowed position. 

“Fine, you can stay.” He nearly passed out laughing from how fast you changed your mind while you pulled him back inside before shutting the door.  

“Did I tell you? You look super adorable when you’re angry.”

“Yes, and don’t push your luck.”

Donghyuk:

Dusk was approaching fast as Donghyuk sat in the back of his manager’s car gazing aimlessly at the cloud rolling by above. Normally the ride home from practice would be in a van with 6 other noisy, sweat slicked boys but today was Tuesday. Tuesdays are special in Donghyuk’s heart because it’s the designated date day. Now it doesn’t happen every single Tuesday, not even every other one. Sometimes it doesn’t even happen once in a whole month. It happened whenever neither you nor him have obligation and damn sure every time it did, it was special. Donghyuk had a gentle grin on his lips, his drowsy eyes fell upon the large box sitting neatly just next to him. In the month he hadn’t seen you other than on the screen of his phone, he had gathered up quite the collection of gifts for you to be drown in. Of course you can afford to buy these things on your own and damn sure you weren’t with him because he buys you gifts but it still bring him great joy to shower you in tokens of his love. Hand patting the box gently, he leaned back for a quick shut eyes knowing you deserve every second of his attention. Just as his eyes flutter shut, the car suddenly halted and trepidation grew steady in his heart after a full 5 minutes of complete stand still. 

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he smiled sleepily at the image of you sitting so patiently waiting for him. It warmed his heart to know no matter what, you’d always be positive.

Another hour had gone by and Donghyuk finally found himself once more fixing his appearance in the mirror of the elevator he had long made acquaintance with. Foot tapping to a high rhythmic beat, time suddenly felt to tick by so slow as he watched the red light dances from one button to another, taking its sweet sweet time to painstakingly reach number 19. With a ding, Donghyuk rushed out of the still widening door and bolted straight to your door. Just then he caught the other members in your group giggling their way down the hall for dinner. He bowed respectfully but they resorted to hugging him instead. All your older members love the way your boyfriend could take care of you in area they couldn’t. Being the last member added onto the team, you shy away from sharing your true feeling fearing crossing the line, breaking the bond that had formed so long before. Watching the way Donghyuk could coax that bubbly personality out of your usually quiet and timid facade lighten the loads on them. 

His fingers trembled with excitement as your leader hastily punching in the all too familiar 6 digits code to your front door. Pushing in, he settled the large box on the floor, eyes grew with eagerness to adore out the lines of your feature. By the sheer amount of emojis you had sent him, you were just as anxious to see him if not more. He was surprised, a bit disappointed even that you didn’t jump into his arms as you always did. 

“Y/n, baby? Where are you?” He called out gently, although his feet already knew where they needed to go. He made his way toward the only room with light shone under the crack of the closed door. The knob turned slowly to reveal you sitting on your bed, knees flushed tight against your chest, head buried. His smile faltered, sadden sigh dropped as he realized the shiver in your retreated form wasn’t from the weather. What could’ve happened in the hour he was stuck in traffic. You were so happy, so you just awhile ago. 

Sinking his weight onto your small but packed full of plushies bed, he wrapped an arm around your shaky shoulder. Instinctively, your head dug deep into the softness of his sweater, soul lost in his scent.

“I’m sorry... I, I didn’t mean for you to see this.”

“It’s alright, baby. What’s wrong?”

His hands quick to assume their job of caressing your hair and shoulders, spreading comfort and warmth. You’ve had boyfriends, but never before have you experienced the kind of love Donghyuk gives. The way he loves and cares for you, there isn’t a moment you don’t count your luck.

“Hmm... It’s nothing...”

The dismal whisper left your lips in a huff of air so heavy you wonder if Donghyuk had even heard it before it sunk straight to the hell of lies.

“Uh uh, my princess is crying. That’s definitely something in my book. Let me help you. What did I say about hiding your feelings?”

His soft words and gentle voice could coax you into robbing a bank if it really comes down to it. You knew you could never hold out on Donghyuk... It’s not like you really want to anyways so you avert your eyes out of shame before baring it all for him to see. 

“It’s just, I feel like I’m worthless sometimes... Like I’m a big baby that can’t do anything...” You nearly choked on every syllable.

“No, you definitely are not worthless so don’t you dare say things that’s even more preposterous than an otter riding a unicorn. You spent just as much effort as the next person to get where you got to today. I won’t let you talk yourself down like that. Now, did something happened with your members?”

You let yourself reveled in the way his hands cupping your cheeks so gingerly, eyes longingly gazing, hoping for your soul to open up and joined his, then maybe, just maybe you’d see yourself the way he sees you. 

“It’s just, I-I keep messing up on our new dance so they teased me about it.”

“You know your members love joking around. They don’t mean it, baby. The boys and I joke all the time too when we learn new dances. They even told me in the hallway to take you out for some good food earlier cause you worked so hard.”

Currently rubbing gentle circles into your tear stained cheeks, a timid peck found itself on your quivering lips, he was doing his best to sooth away every bit of doubt still bitter on your cracked, chapped lips.

“But that’s the thing. That’s all I do... I just make them worry and carry all the weight. I don’t even do anything.” 

“Listen...” You winced at the way his lungs expeled the deep heavy sigh. “I love you even if you were worthless. However! You are anything but worthless, alright love. You stayed up later than every one else practicing when that article criticizing you came out.” A chaste kiss fluttered its wings on your forehead, "You spent hours meal prepping every night for all the member because the company wanted you all to get fit for the comeback. On top of that, you’re our little mood maker. When have you not made us laugh with your silly little joke. Even the weird noises you make when you’re too happy seeing food. All of that, we all love it, me and your members. The reason we baby you is because that’s it, you’re our wee baby. You had to grow up way too fast, struggling with school, with this job. I know you don’t say it but at night you’d go check on everyone, making sure they sleep well, putting blanket on them... When you’re with me, never once did you complain when I canceled dates or when I had to stay at the studio later than I thought. You’re sweet, compassionate, loving, caring, what more do you want, baby? On top of it all, you’re this little cutie who sings her heart out and somehow mesmerizes me every single time. I’ve known you for what? a good 5 years now, 2 years since I got to call you mine. I look forward to hear you sing and dance every time. You, missy, are not worthless.” His worries transformed itself into a beautiful speech from the heart. He was so fervent with emotion that he failed to realize your tears were streaming once more, this time in the highest of happiness. Pulling away from the crook of his neck, kisses in exchanged for everything he had done.

“Yah, why are you still crying... What are you thanking me for...”

“I’m just happy, I can’t control it. I love you, Donghyuk. I can’t say enough how lucky I am to have someone like you supporting me.” 

With a gentle tug on your shoulder, he pulled you against his firm chest hearty with a giggle, elated that once again he managed to lighten your weary heart.

Hanbin:

Hanbin was whipped the second his eyes met yours, a bit breathless and smile brighter than the stage lights shining so prettily on your cherry red lips. It was quite literally just mere minutes ago that his eyes were glued to the small screen inside their waiting room, mesmerized by the performance of your group. The boys had been delighted, monitoring each and every performance of the night carefully for this had been the first time back on stage in a very long time. Songs after songs, upbeat tune to sorrowful ballad, Hanbin kept his eyes trained on the screen, listening and noting carefully the talent of fellows writers. Yet the moment the first note of that jazzy tune, your jazzy tune hit his ears, Hanbin found himself lost, when your leader belted out the powerful lyrics accompany by the soulful harmony of the other members, his mind was delighted. His feet tapping, shoulders unknowingly to him began to sway to the catchy beats. Then the world melted, it was as if he was the only person left in this entire world and in possession of the front row seat to your show. He was mesmerized, mind gone blank from the playful rap to your intricate footwork. The producer in the back of his mind thought of the many things he’d say to you, the advice he’d give for your improvement... You’ve piqued his interest. 

One could only imagine the shock his brain and heart had received when those soft knocks and polite greeting emanating through the waiting room’s door turned out to be yours. It was only by the 3rd call for his name by Chanwoo and the 10 millionth rough poke into the tenderness of his side that Hanbin had awaken. Stammering and going a bit red in the cheeks no doubt, he cussed mentally at what a total idiot he had been in the face of his interest. However, all that was lost the moment he gazed upon your features to find an adorable smile, shy and sweet but it was definitely directing his way. Your hair a bit wind blown and makeup worn but you still looked so perfect. Bobby had taken over, exchanging greeting in place of iKON still moonstruck leader, eyes dashing about, lingering on you just a tad bit longer than everyone else. But as seconds ticked by, your short courtesy greeting had ended and even though your goodbye just as sprightly and cheerful as ever, regrets engulfed the leader who had spent the time in silent, not abled to muster up enough courage to say a word to you despite the storm in his mind. 

The next few times you’ve met were only in passing, nevertheless, it shook his heart all the same even if quick bows and lingering smiles were all that were exchanged between the both of you. Hanbin paid even closer attention to your stage and somewhere deep inside his heart, he hoped you do the same with iKON’s stage. He had wrecked his brain to find a reason why he’d need to speak to you but none availed and on the last week of your promotional period, he had given up. 

“Hey, maknae, are you day dreaming of Hanbin again??”

His feet halted to a smoking, screeching stop at the sound of his name. He wasn’t a nosy person, not at all, but what else could he do but hide and pray that whoever had just spoken his name wouldn’t find out he was mere feet away, lurking around the corner. 

You damn near spat your water, snorting it out of your nose, and choking on it simultaneously at the sound of your leader’s calling. Like a deer caught in headlight, you could barely get a word out before the older members were snickering amongst themselves, faint whisper of his name could be heard. 

“N-No... What are you talking about?” 

“Kid, you don’t have to hide it. We all know about your little crush on a certain leader.” Their teasing continue no matter how much you protest, your words falling on deaf ears. 

He wanted to so badly, just peek his head out to see the owner of that sweet shy voice but every ounce of his brain was screaming that wasn’t a smart idea. Even if his brain had told him yes, his body betrayed him, ignoring his every command for it to move because the voices only grew louder. 

“Stop it. I don’t- I don’t even. He doesn’t even know I exist anyways.”

“Oh please, have you seen how he looked at you. And anyways, if you don’t like Hanbin, why does it matter if he know you exist or not?” 

This is wrong, so so wrong on so so many levels but Hanbin couldn’t, can’t move now. He wanted so dearly to put a face to the angel voice yet there was no way in hell this encounter would turn out well. 

“I didn’t say I don’t like him-” Your voice stolen right out of your exhausted lungs, the water bottle cradling so snugly in your hand like a meteor crashing onto the floor splashing its content with reckless abandoned. Your eyes widen in shock but they were no match to the blown out pair staring right back at you. For the next moment there was nothing but silent, your members silenced themselves out of shock and guilt, you’ve gone mute, never before had you experienced this kind of embarrassment. So you ran, ran as fast as your spent legs could carry you, tears running down your cheeks. You didn’t realized where your body had decided to transport you but the next moment your eyes were met with the concern stricken ones of your manager. The worst part was over, or so you had thought as your body crashed right into the softness of the black leather couch. 

“Please don’t cry...” Had it not for the soft caressing of his hand on yours, you’d have thought it that gentle voice soothing away the tension of your heart was a mere hallucination.

You couldn’t bear looking at him, so you stared at the large hand covering yours, thumb softly smoothing over the dips and curves of your own. He sat there with you in silent, not a word was said yet strangely enough, you were content. When the last sniffle, leftover of your mortifying experience had disappeared into the air, Hanbin once more cooed softly. 

“If it makes you feel any better, the boys had been teasing me relentlessly too...” The sudden uttering of a surprise “what?!” and the light speed whipping of your attention toward his stammering self caught Hanbin off guard, an adorable sheepish smile bloomed on his lips. “They’re a lot meaner than your members.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“They, uhm, this is so embarrassing...” He paused and for a second, it was the first time you’ve both laid eyes on each other again. No thought racing through your brain, no hidden words, just two people enjoying the moment. 

“More embarrassing than what I just did?” You were first to break away, no longer able to cope with the overwhelming feeling rising fast in your chest. 

“I-, you’ve won there.” He sighed gently, “They caught me watching your fancam... And I haven’t been able to have a moment of peace since.”

“Oh no... I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, all worth it.” Embolden by the little grin playing on your soft lips, your heavenly soft lips that he bet would taste like heaven, Hanbin forced himself to look away before he could do something stupid. “What’s your story?”

“I, I guess I talked about you way too much. I didn’t think I was, but I guess I did. I don’t know, it’s just you’re so amazing and like, have you heard your song? Of course you did, you wrote them. I’ve always wanted to work with you and I looked to your lyrics a lot for inspiration.  Anyways, they say I gushed about you too much but I just thought someone that talented should be worship the way he deserve. And like, you’ve always just been a celebrity to me, you know, just someone I see on TV but then I met you. You’re totally way cuter in person and-” You bit your lips shut, the curse of the nervous ramble had once again struck you, always at the worst time possible. All your deepest thoughts had ushered out in one big giant ball of embarrassment, and to top it all off, right in front of Hanbin. 

“And? come one, I wanna hear the rest of it.” His hand nudged yours, a teasing smirk bright on his lips as you ducked your head in shame. 

“Don’t tease me...” You sighed, wanting nothing more but to disappear into the depth of the Earth, feet already priming themselves to run away one more time. Hanbin refused to let you disappear from his grasp again so he did the only thing his blissful brain could think of, he pulled you into a tight embrace. 

“You’re too cute, you know that? How bout we start with exchanging phone numbers... You know, for work purposes?” He winked and you were winded. “Let’s talk to our managers and just figure things out from there?” 

“I’d like that.” You nuzzled back into the crook of his neck and Hanbin felt as if he had just crash-landed right into heaven. For the next few minutes, the comforting silent of hearts at the beginning of something new, shyly embarking on a journey that hopefully in the end, they’ll be beating as one. His arms never left your body and although not brave enough to press a kiss onto your cheek, his thumb would occasionally stroked the rosy skin. 

“If you do not want to be running through choreography for all our songs tonight instead of a bbq dinner and a goodnight rest, I’d suggest you take your ears off of the door in the next few seconds.” He suddenly spoke up and a scramble of footfall and chaotic loud whispers could be heart through the door. You both shared your last moment giggling, lamenting about the chaos filled future of 6 boys and 4 girls always be earshot away, pretending as though they didn’t spend the last hour eavesdropping. 

[everyoneisgay]

Honest Mixtape: I Carry Your Heart with Me by Alyse Knorr

Welcome to May’s “Honest Mixtape”! Every month we will feature a new writer who will tackle one of your advice questions with words *and* music!

“I am in a long distance relationship and sometimes I only get to see my girlfriend one weekend per month. Her best friend lives closer and sees her multiple times per week. How can I work on not being jealous that she gets to spend more time with her than I do? Also, how can I just be better at long distance?! It’s so hard.”

Alyse Says:

Thanks so much for your question! I completely understand how difficult long-distance relationships can be. Shortly after we got hitched, my wife and I had to spend a year and a half living in different states, visiting about once a month. It’s tough, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I honestly think that our time apart made our relationship much stronger and healthier.

Let’s start with your question about jealousy. There are two different types of jealousy you might be feeling in this situation, so I’ll address both. The first kind of jealousy is the kind where you’d be jealous of anyone who gets to see your girlfriend—her best friend, her co-workers, her cat, the cashier at the grocery store—because you love her so much and wish that you could see her, too! That kind of “jealous” is more connected to a feeling of longing, which is a totally natural way to feel when your sweetie lives far away.

The other type of jealousy is dicier. If you find that you’re only jealous of your girlfriend’s best friend, and not anyone else your girlfriend sees, then you might want to consider why you feel that way. Are you suspicious or distrusting of this friend? Is there something about their friendship in particular that makes you uneasy? This kind of jealousy is connected to uglier roots, like insecurity and fear. And it can do really bad damage to a relationship, since relationships are built on trust and fail without it.  

If you’re jealous of your girlfriend’s best friend because you don’t trust them together, then you need to think hard about why that is and how you might be able to work past it on your own. Because if your girlfriend has to feel guilty every time she sees her best friend, or has to feel like she must choose between making you feel jealous and sad vs. seeing her best friend when she wants to, then after awhile this could build into resentment. Especially because she may be seeing her best friend so much because she misses you and being around her best pal cheers her up!

When my wife and I were apart, we both saw our friends way more than we would have if we were still living together, in large part because we were both a little lonely, and also just because we each had more time on our hands. And guess what? It was so good for us. We grew as individuals and could therefore grow together in our relationship. By nurturing friendships and staying focused on our own separate lives, we practiced independence, which made us both stronger people. This, in turn, made our relationship stronger, too! It’s kind of like if Batman and Robin both started working out and practicing their ninja skills separately—it’s not going to detract from their Dynamic Duo crime-fighting chemistry one bit. It’s just going to make them a stronger team.

So with all that out of the way, let’s talk some more about long-distance relationships. By far the most helpful tip I can offer is to encourage you to shift your perspective about this time apart. When my wife and I first began our LDR period, I was bummed. I knew I’d miss her so much, and I’d been living with her already for five years—how was I going to adjust? But then I started to focus more on why we were spending time apart—for her to follow her passion and begin a PhD program in poetry and for me to follow mine and start a teaching job at my dream school. When I focused on that, I couldn’t be sad we were apart—only joyful that my wife was doing what made her happiest in the world, and proud of her for going for it.

You can also reframe all this in your mind by focusing on how great an opportunity this is for you both to grow individually in exciting ways. Change is a good thing, not something to be afraid of. Remember that old saying that “Real gold is not afraid of the test of fire.” You have nothing to worry about here. Your love is real, and it’s awesome, and so is this time in your life and relationship.

Second (and related) biggest tip: stay in touch regularly and consistently, but not constantly. Live your own life and respect your girlfriend’s independence by letting her live hers. Try not to be clingy or controlling; again, stay positive and see this as a time of independent growth for you both—growth that will ultimately make your relationship as strong as Batman and Robin’s.

Here are a few other quick tips:

Have some kind of ultimate plan and/or end date in mind for when your time apart will be over. It’s way easier than thinking you’ll be apart indefinitely.

Likewise, always know when you’ll see each other next for an in-person visit. It gives you something to look forward to. Cute-barf alert: I gave my wife a jar and always kept it full of Hershey’s Kisses equal to the amount of days left till we’d see each other again—a kiss a day. Pinterest has lots of other pretty adorable LDR ideas if you’re into that kind of thing. Also, if she has roommates (or maybe that best friend of hers?), they can be great co-conspirators on cute surprises you can pull off while you’re away.  

Be clear on ground rules and expectations. How often do you each want to be called or texted during the day? Do you always want a goodnight call? That kind of thing. This will avoid a lot of arguments.

Do things together, especially Skype dates. Watch the same movie at the same time (you can use a program called Rabbit to share a screen), be in a book club together, have dinner together—be creative! There’s also an amazing app called Couple (and a bunch of other good ones, too) that lets you do “thumb kisses” where you can kind of virtually touch each other.

I also recommend being “Skype roommates” if you’re both hanging out at your homes at the same time. Just have each other open on Skype and be “together” without even needing to talk. I found that if I was folding clothes in the bedroom and had my wife on Skype in the living room while I talked to her, it gave a pretty believable impression that she was really just in the next room over!

Send handwritten letters in the mail. Send postcards. Send little gifts. Send care packages. These are your opportunity to be physically there with your partner in some small way.

My brilliant friend Rosie and I made this mixtape for you to listen to while you’re pining for your sweetie. Music is so good for these kinds of feels. While you’re listening, keep in mind e.e. cummings’ beautiful reminder that even when you’re apart, you’re always with the one you love: “I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart).” Good luck, friend! I’m with you all the way.

Alyse Knorr is the author of Mega-City Redux, Copper Mother, Annotated Glass, Super Mario Bros. 3, and two chapbooks of poetry. Her work has appeared in Alaska Quarterly Review, The Greensboro Review, and Hayden’s Ferry Review, among others. She is an assistant professor of English at Regis University and co-editor of Switchback Books. 

Rose Campbell is a public historian at Regis University in Denver. Her work focuses on war experience and how narratives about war are constructed and conveyed. She also researches and writes about Colorado’s music history as a consultant for the History Colorado Center. She received her M.A. in History in 2017 and is currently pursuing her MFA at Regis.

Cover Art designed by the incredible Isabella Rotman!

[natsuhikoshidou]

Life Cheating Game - Chapter 1: Tomorrow Afternoon... (Part 1)

Prologue | Chapter 1: Part 2

natsuhiko barfs :(

This article was in the ‘Society’ section in the corner of the local newspaper.

A short article, less than about 20 lines after the heading, it looked like it was hiding from the other articles.

‘Former actor publishes memoirs from prison’

The man currently serving time collected the memoirs written about his life while in prison into a book, he plans to publish them at the end of next month.

The crime he committed was a hit-and-run incident, it claimed the lives of two people

But in his book, he’s saying the judgement of ten years of service was wrongly accused and it seems like he’s going to repeat the lawsuit.

The name of the inmate who wrote the memoirs is Itsuki Shindou.

He is the man that killed my parents in a car accident 7 years ago.

◊

Inside the bus from Hachiougi station to Kurihara East Highschool overflowed with the commotion of chatter, from pupils wearing the same uniform as me.

I sat on the window seat of a seat for two, watching the scenery flowing behind me.

The bus window was wet with cold rain and drops of condensation.

Sitting next to me was my childhood friend, Sora Fushimi. She calmly cast her eyes down, though it looked like she was sleeping, she was probably thinking about something troublesome again.

“In the newspaper this morning, there was an article about Itsuki Shindou ”

I said, whilst my eyes followed the streaming drops on the glass window.

Sora opened her eyes, I knew from the sign that she looked towards me.

“They’re gonna publish the memoirs he wrote in prison. Though it looks like the title will be called 'Mistakes’, that probably means ‘Justice’s Mistakes’, not ‘My Mistakes’”

I spoke with a flat voice that surprised myself to an extent. Like a robot spoke with a sample of my voice.

Sora also knows about the accident 7 years ago. At that time, Sora’s house and my house were built next to each other so our parents were good friends before we were born.

After the accident, we grew apart after I was taken into custody by my grandparents, so I was honestly happy when I found out we had both enrolled into the same high school.

"Right.”

Sora said, with a voice that felt especially as if it had no feeling. As I looked out the window, I didn’t know what facial expression she made.

“So… when you read that article, what did you think? Natsuhiko.”

“…I don’t know.”

After thinking a little, I answered.

“When I saw the article, I was a little surprised though…..It was probably the first time I had seen the name "Itsuki Shindou” in a really long time. “

If I give an example, it felt like seeing an acquaintance at your destination after a long journey.

"I thought, 'him again’. Shindou always said he was innocent, because of that the trial had to be prolonged. ….But, I don’t get mad at that….I think. I myself don’t really know.”

At the time of the incident, I was a kid, so I didn’t even know what feelings of hatred were, what I felt was, being unable to see my two parents again, only like a crushing sadness.

Therefore, if you asked me if I hated a man named Itsuki Shindou, I would be unable to nod my head with confidence, but saying that I would be reluctant to shake it either.

Many people would call the incident that happened 7 years ago an accident rather than an incident.

According to an eyewitness, a few hours before Itsuki Shindou was arrested, unbelievably drunk, there was no evidence that he pushed his breaks down at the time of the incident.

But then, in the trial, it seems Shindou claimed to have drunken alcohol in order to calm down after the incident, though.

“Natsuhiko, do you not hate Shindou?”

“I don’t know… I wonder if that also makes me unloyal to my parents.”

On the wet glass window, my face distorting with a self-deprecating smile was reflected.

I wonder if I met Shindou personally that would change, I thought. I witnessed my parents being hit before my eyes, but with consideration from the attorney in charge, I didn’t appear in court as a witness in the trial. It didn’t seem necessary, it seemed there was lots of evidence supporting Shindou’s crime

The man named Itsuki Shindou that I saw, was a young actor being praised extravagantly on the TV screen during a sudden rise of popularity.

Although I’ve seen the same images on TV many times after the incident, in the end, I’m not convinced he’s the man that had killed my parents.

“I hate him, Itsuki Shindou”

“….Eh?”

“Because of that man, I was separated from you.”

Reflexively, I looked at Sora’s face.

Sora was staring straight at me, expressing a mischievous smile.

“If the accident hadn’t happened, we would have gone to middle school together.”

"That’s, true… I guess.”

Certainly, if my parents hadn’t died in the accident, I hadn’t been taken into custody by my grandparents, and Sora and I would have remained neighbours, it’s no doubt we would have spent a lot of time together until now.

However, not knowing Sora’s true intentions, I blinked in confusion and turned around.

“Do you have to go home early today?”

Sora changed the subject abruptly.

“If memory serves me correctly, today is the day that an author that Momiji likes is releasing a new book.”

“Eh, ah, ahh…. right. She must’ve asked you to buy it yesterday.”

Without doing something like hiding her embarrassment, Sora did acrobatics with old topics.

Though I should be used to something like this, though my head was switched around today, it took time. My pounding chest was uselessly consuming energy.

“Because I have to go to the bookstore on the way home I won’t be attending club, can you tell the club leader?”

Sora and I belong to the same board game club. As the name suggests, though it’s a club only for playing board games, it always publishes a summarized club journal each month, it does well within school.

However, without any valuation because a good amount about Buchou and his partner became well-known, we don’t have many members.

(*Buchou - the leader of a club)

“Aah, no problem. Even you’re too nice to hurt Momiji’s feelings.”

The so-called Momiji is my little sister turning 10 this year. Unlike a child she’s calm, usually reserved and also lacks facial expression. Though I worry she doesn’t express herself at school with such a personality, it seems she unexpectedly has lots of friends.

"I guess. If you go against what she wants once, it’s really difficult to get her back in a good mood. When she ignored me for about a week once, I just had to put up with it…”

"She was probably taking advantage of you.”

I said, dropping my shoulders, Sora expressed a gentle smile.

“I think she has trust in you, because she expresses discontent in that way.”

"You think so?”

“I think so.”

When she said such silly words, the bus arrived at the high-school bus stop.

As soon as it did, the cold November air poured through the open door.

“Right, let’s go”

Prompted by Sora, once I breathed a sigh as if my determination hardened, I got up.

◊

“Morning, Akito”

I called out, the person changing his shoes in front of the shoe cupboard, stopped moving for a moment, and widened his eyes while looking at me.

“Oh? Oooh, Natsuhiko. And Fushimi too, good morning!”

A cheerful smile. It was a fresh smile, the complete opposite to this morning’s weather.

Akito Mamiya. My friend, who belonged to the same class as me.

“It’s really cold today”

While I also changed my shoes, I safely brought up the subject of weather.

“I know right. I don’t know if it’s because of the rain, but it suddenly became really cold. You’re ok right, Natsuhiko? Don’t you hate the cold?”

“I regret it, I wish I brought my gloves.”

“Hm, if you want I can lend mine to you? They are goalie gloves, though.”

Akito laughed heartily as he joked. It made me laugh too.

While me and Akito spoke, Sora quietly put her shoes away in front of the next classes shoe cupboard. By nature, I’m not the type that forces myself to speak when there’s no subject, but I realized if I’m with Akito I don’t talk excessively as much.

“Huh? Now that you mention it, didn’t you have morning practice, with the soccer club?”

Since we were freshmen, Akito flourishes as the ace of the soccer club, it’s no wonder that he has lots of popularity from girls.

Contrary to that he doesn’t listen to their flirting, though he’s surrounded by girls, the impression he has of fooling around with boys is strong.

“It was cancelled. Because we couldn’t use the pitch with yesterday’s rain. I got an text this morning, I was honestly saved, because I totally overslept.”

"That unexpected text woke you up?”

“That’s right.  When I looked at my phone when I woke up, I got the text from Buchou and I jumped up like ‘oh crap’ because I wasn’t in morning practice, but then I went back to sleep in relief.”

Akito shrugged his shoulder jokingly when he spoke. Those swanky gestures, tallness ,the finely chiselled looks of a person from somewhere other than Japan that he had, he was really good-looking.

"Anyway, Natsuhiko…”

As I put my taken-off shoes in the cupboard, Akito continued calmly.

“Did something happen? You seem kind of down.”

For a moment, words wouldn’t leave me, I stiffened.

The feeling of being happy that he considered my feelings. At the same time, the feelings of not apologizing for making him worry were established inside of me.

“N, Nah. It’s nothing. I’m fine”

“Really? If that’s the case, then that’s ok. I was sure you and Fushimi might have had an argument.”

He was trying to get my spirits up. Akito spoke jokingly.

“That’s not true. Firstly, I wouldn’t want to come to school together with someone I had an argument with.”

“I’ll invite them out so I can make up with them- something like that?”

“Sorry, but there’s no reason why me and Natsuhiko would have an argument.”

Sora, who had changed her shoes, butted into the conversation.

“We get on together as well as clinker and gypsum. When mixed together, we form a firm bond like cement. Like this”

*(clinker and gypsum are two properties that form cement when mixed together)

As she said that, Sora suddenly grabbed my hand.

"Wai, Sora?”

With her soft touch and warmth, and I felt my cheeks gradually become hot.

“This way, I’ll be able to warm up Natsuhiko’s cold hands”

“Ooh Ooh. Warming up, right. He’s burning.”

Sora speaking with a serious look, Akito mocking me.

My face was definitely bright red. I looked down in embarrassment.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed. You two have a beautiful friendship, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes. I’m glad Mamiya has the same opinion to that extent. When we were small, we would go to school holding hands almost every day, didn’t we. If you like, we can continue with these customs starting tomorrow”

“No, that’s, still…”

I smiled wryly, as I scratched warmed cheek.

But I never thought I would try and shake Sora’s hand off.

As I withdrew my hand from Sora, we went up the stairs, continuing on to the classroom together.

Deep in my heart certainly kept feeling a similar heat passed down from Sora’s hand.

◊

It became home time, and I hurriedly hopped on the bus home.

I was headed towards a large bookstore which was a short walk from Hachiougi Station.

The book Momiji asked for, was placed at the end of the “New Books” corner. The piled up pile was quite small, I had a meddling worry, what if it didn’t sell well at all.

Leaving the bookstore, I walked to my house in the rain.

The house me and my grandparents live in is two stories and made of wood, me and Momiji’s rooms are on the second floor. Though it’s an old house built almost 50 years ago, Grandma and Grandpa frequently tend to it, so it doesn’t look as old as it was built, it’s a tidy house.

On the walk about 15 minutes from the bookstore, in a space between new, modern looking properties, I came to see an anciently installed, black tiled roof. For a long time, the family living there have pride in their chests in continuing to protecting the house, it stands imposing and proud, my home resembles Grandpa’s stubbornness.

However, as my house appeared before me, my feet stopped.

“That car…”

Parked in a place you couldn’t see from my house was a black passenger car. A man wearing a shabby suit seemed to be leaning on it and smoking a cigarette.

When I looked in that direction, I felt disgusted.

Turning around to take a different path home, when I tried to turn on my heels, the man noticed me, and began walking towards me as he extinguished his cigarette in a portable ashtray.

“Hey. Natsuhiko-kun. It’s been a while.”

An unshaven face in a crooked necktie, the sloppy looking man expressed a cut-and-paste ingeniune smile and spoke.

His name is Jirou Asai. The man is a magazine journalist for some publishing firm. I don’t remember any of his magazines, nor do I care to do so.

“…What do you want.”

I glared at Asai right in front of him, speaking with as much displeasure as possible.

If it was Asai from a few years back, he would have hit talkatively with “Don’t be so cold~” here and then “Why do you hate me~”, but today he cut straight to the chase without that prelude.

“Did you know that Itsuki Shindou is releasing a book?”

I didn’t answer.

“I see. So you do.”

“…So why are you talking to me.”

“I think it’s unforgiveable.”

His friendly smile disappeared, a sharp light dwelled in Asai’s eyes. I thought, that’s a hateful light.

“But in the book, Shindou tried to run from his own sin. Things like his prison sentence were half-hearted punishments, they won’t be able to fix that man’s character. Doesn’t it annoy you? In court, you know how many times Shindou repeated his selfish testimony.”

Of course I know. The prosecutor in charge of the accident worried about us one way or another, they were a person that properly explained even the smallest things.

Silent, I didn’t care, and Asai continued to speak on his own.

“Shindou is evil. The evil of the despicable world. I don’t feel remorse or anything for him at all. That guy also claims your parents were a mistake. It’s like he’s insulting your parents.”

I know. So be quiet. I don’t want to hear this story.

"But, there are people that are trying to release that villainy into society again. Shindou’s fans are the people that gathered together, and made an appeal for a penalty reduction.”

Asai seemed to spit as he spoke.

"It’s an unbelievable story, but I’ve heard rumors that a reasonable number of signatures have been collected. If Shindou’s memoirs are published, there’s a chance that these numbers will increase even more.”

“…What do you want me to do?”

No more, I don’t want to hear any more, I spoke.

“Let my write an article. An article to denunciate Itsuki Shindou. I want to put your feelings into it, as a victim in the bereaved family”

It was that after all. Since I first met this person he’s always asked the same thing.

So then, I’ll keep telling him the same thing.

"I told you before, I won’t let you.”

Because the accident from 7 years ago contains considerably scandalous content, the amount of attention the mass media paid to it was unusually high.

However, when Itsuki Shindou caused the accident and was arrested, his agency shut out all the coverage, Shindou’s family had to disappear, the mass media that craved a partner to pass the mike onto, the bereaved family of Momiji and I, were swarmed.

Every day and every night, by the press, surging like waves. Our home phone has broken countless times trying to hold them down, after leaving my grandparent’s house, I don’t know the amount of times my old-school grandpa has chased them away with a wooden sword in one hand.

Anybody would start to hate the mass media if they experienced that.

This was a serious thing to the man called Asai, you knew if you looked in his eyes. However, that seriousness he had was, in the so-called justice of wanting to denounce Itsuki Shindou, also the wish to gather attention with writing a newsworthy article, so I couldn’t make a decision.

“Why? Don’t you hate Itsuki Shindou!? Don’t you want him to be punished!?”

This again, Asai must also have that similar feeling.

It’s unusual for him, who was always aloof from the world, it was a force that seemed to grab me.

“That’s what I wanted to ask. Why are you so obsessed with me? Don’t you have a job to do?”

I asked whilst taking a step forward,  Asai yelled with rage.

“Because I’m the same as you! I lost my daughter!”

Asai’s eyes had a look like he had been possessed by something.

“My daughter was 5 years old. The driver of the truck she was hit by was under the influence of alcohol. Her body got caught under the tire, her body couldn’t maintain how it originally looked.”

I had no words. Not saying anything, I just looked at Asai’s eyes in surprise.

"As soon as my daughter died, me and my wife didn’t work out, and we eventually separated. I had lost everything. But, the truck driver that robbed all of my happiness from me, only got a 5 year sentence. He’s still living carelessly today….!”

Asai looked at my eyes too. However, I wasn’t reflected in his. There’s no mistake that , simply, the body of the truck driver that killed his daughter was reflected.

Given the situation, he’s a person obsessed with hatred.

Even if that’s the case, still, I’m different.

“You should feel the same. The sin of drink-driving is too light. Drinking alcohol, and driving afterwards is the person’s intention. If they do drive, and if they then cause an accident and kill a person, it’s not intentional murder, though.”

"So…punishing Itsuki Shindou for me…?”

Asai, quickly regaining his composure, nodded strongly.

I understand the reason. The reason Asai is obsessed with me. It, perhaps, might be a reason supported by a large group of people. I’m not sure if I should support it too.

But, well, that’s…

“That’s wrong.”

“What?”

“You’re only using me because you want revenge. No, not even that. After all, the person that ran your daughter over wasn’t Itsuki Shindou.”

Asai checked that I had a desire for revenge, but it was only because he wanted to justify his own desire for revenge. Then, if he got justification, that man obsessed with revenge would, surely, want to take his own revenge… That’s what I think.

It was when Asai opened his mouth to try and respond with something.

The shrill sound of breaks echoed followed by the sound of a severe crash. And then, screams.

"What?!”

Lured by Asai, I also looked around for the source of the noise.

It was at an intersection. On a one lane road, where an alley without a sidewalk intersects. And at the heart of the intersection, a young woman had fallen over. There was a crushed bicycle frame next to her, the contents of her bag had been scattered around her.

Close to the girl was a mini-vehicle. The front of the car had been dented.

The face of the driver, who got out while shaking, became pale.

"There’s been a crash! C-Call an ambulance!”

Somebody shouted out, and Asai broke into a run towards the intersection without saying anything.

I stood still on the spot.

“Ah…. Ah….h!”

The sound of breaks. The sound of a crash. Screams. Those sounds furiously raced through my head.

Soon enough, the violent rush of sounds met and mixed in with the sounds from the bottom of my sea of memories, going hand-in-hand with my visual memories, the shallow sea turned to raging billows and advanced closer.

I saw the color red.

A red car. Red blood. Only the traffic lights were blue.

Stained bright red and lying on the ground were my mom and dad. They wouldn’t budge.

I heard somebody’s screams.

Before I knew it, that red car was nowhere to be found.

Dad, Mom- The shouting came closer. They were both motionless.

A smell. What’s that smell?

It’s the smell of burnt rubber, this is, this smell is, blood-

“Uuh….gu-!”

My memories from 7 years ago, my repressed memories were resurrected, I covered my mouth.

The lowest, worst flashbacks, as if they beat up my 5 senses, awakened intense dizziness, at the same I felt something rising slowly from the bottom of my stomach.

While covering my mouth, like I was falling over I ran to a nearby park, though I usually wouldn’t want to go in, I rushed in a hurry to the filthy and filled with graffiti public toilet cubicle.

And then, clinging onto the toilet, I threw up everything that was in my stomach.

“Uh…ugh…*cough cough*! …..Haah, haah…uuh!”

I threw up twice, the nausea lifted.

After I had done that, the memories from 7 years ago poured into the toilet, though I couldn’t do anything.

“Haa…Haa…haa…haa……..”

How much had I thrown up. When the nausea finally subsided, my throat hurt like it was burning, the inside of the toilet was full of vomit.

I stood up staggeringly and flushed the toilet, someone was knocking on the cubicle door.

“Oi, Natsuhiko-kun! Are you ok?!”

It was Asai. When I heard his voice part of my memories were rehabilitated, dizzy, I leaned against the door. The nausea didn’t return, because I had nothing left to throw up.

“Natsuhiko-kun. Don’t you remember the accident from earlier?”

Asai’s voice throbbingly echoed inside my head, it was annoying.

Shut up. Shut up. Stop being so noisy. Please be quiet.

“You do, you do, don’t you! You’re trapped by it too, the accident from seven years ago! Because you ran over here, punishing Itsuki Shindou should…”

"Shut up!”

I shouted out, it became silent.

“Please go home! I don’t want to talk to you! Go home… just, I….I want to be left alone….!”

The last part was with a teary voice. I realized I was crying, as soon as I did all power left my body, while my back dragged against the door, I sank to the floor.

After some time, I heard the sound of feet moving away to the door.

“Uuh…Kuh…huguh. …! A,aah…!”

When there was nobody left in the toilets, in a way that seemed unlike me, the crying of a child that had lost their parents echoed out.

◊

I came home, greeted by Momiji, asking “Did something happen?”

As I passed her the book she requested I answered “It’s nothing.”, it wasn’t nothing, I think my little sister surely saw through that.

Yet, Momiji didn’t say anything, I thought “She’s truly a kind girl.”

She’s constantly squinting because of her short-sightedness, if she wore glasses, for example, there’s no doubt that she’d become popular at school.

Without exception four people gather round and eat, at 7pm, for dinner.

I couldn’t bring up the accident that had happened close by at dinner. Grandpa and Grandma shouldn’t know about it, we worried too much about other people. On the way home from the park, I heard some girls talking and holding shopping bags, the victim of that incident seems to be suffering from minor injuries.

I was still under the shock of the flashbacks, dinner was more than I could eat. I was scolded by my grandpa, Momiji and my grandma worried.

I returned to my room and laid down on the tatami without spreading my futon.

My room is a Japanese room made of six tatami mats. A room with only a small window, next to that a writing desk and a zabuton*. (*a cushion for sitting on)

I don’t like TV, raised my grandparents, I don’t care about what amusement I indulge in. ‘I don’t need it’, my grandma would say and gave me pocket money every month, but without using it I saved it up.

As I lay down, I looked up at the ceiling.

When I was small, I saw monsters in the ceiling’s grain texture, I remember being really scared.

I was incredibly tired today.

Why is it like this. Today, yesterday, tomorrow- they seem like the same days. Waking up in the morning, going to school with Sora, joking around with Akito, attending club, coming home and sleeping. Simply, that’s just natural, why won’t every day repeat.

I want peace- I thought.

I don’t want any kind of events in my life. Because things like the death of my parents was enough.

“What’s going to happen tomorrow…”

I don’t know if I’ll see Itsuki Shindou’s name in the newspaper again.

I don’t know if I’ll meet Jirou Asai and talk about publishing the accident again.

I don’t know if herds of the mass media will surge me like 7 years ago again.

I don’t know if I’ll lose someone important in an unpredictable accident again.

I slowly closed my eyes.

My field of vision enveloped in darkness, but I couldn’t fall asleep. Since my parents died, I’ve never had a good sleep once. My sleep is always shallow, and during the night I jump up from having nightmares, it’s repetitive.

It’s surely from the fear of not knowing what will happen tomorrow.

“It would be nice if tomorrow didn’t come…”

I’m scared of tomorrow. The unknown tomorrow is dreadfully unbearable.

There’s surely a monster that will devour the people close to me lurking in the darkness known as tomorrow.

“…?”

Suddenly, a pain ran through my right thumb.

I opened my eyes and looked, my thumbnail became rickety, blood ran from my fingertip. Without realising it, I had bitten myself.

I started immediately after my parent’s death, but recently I almost completely stopped the habit- My counsellor said that it’s a habit that forms under immense stress.

I raised my right hand up, when I looked up at the ceiling once more,

“…Eh!?”

I noticed something abnormal in the room.

Everything was in black and white. The wood grains in the ceiling, the fluorescent lights, everything, it was like I had been thrown inside an old silent movie. It became monochrome.

“W-What is this”

I got the upper half of my body up in a hurry, and looked around the room.

Everything was monochrome after all. But, the right hand I saw a few minutes ago had color. Looking around my body in the monochrome world, only I maintained colour.

I rubbed my eyes thinking something was wrong with them, but the world didn’t change.

-If it’s not my eyes, is it actually something wrong with my head?

The next moment after I thought that,

“Heeey. Do you know who Ruma-chan is?”

Speaking from right next to me, my whole body jumped in shock.

Looking towards where the voice came from, a girl I didn’t know was sitting on the tatami mat, grabbing her knees.

There was color in her. She had red colored hair, close to pink, her white-ish skin, definitely was the color of skin.

“A-And you are…?”

“Whaaat? Did you just wake up? Ruma-chan, tell me.”

Not answering my question, the girl pouted in discontent and spoke.

Though she seemed to look not so different in age from me, I really don’t know this girl. On her black shorts, she wore a black vest, and above that her white shirt opened on her large chest, she wore the same black and white as the world right now. Somehow, I associated her with a card dealer in a casino.

“Ru,Ruma…chan?”

“Yes! Ruma-chan! Do you know her? Where is she?”

“Eh, a, no, wai-…”

She smiled, the girl leaned over me without hesitation, my body was placed opposite to her.

I didn’t know what or why this is.

Who is this girl? Why am I in this world? Who is this Ruma-chan?

“Hey, are you listening!?”

As she said that, the girl reached her hands out, as I was confused, she pinched my cheeks.

The fingertips of the girl touching my cheeks, though they were covered by black gloves, were cold like ice.

“O-oi, are you listening-?”

Muni muni muni*. My lack of response was a good opportunity, she began playing around, pulling and stretching my cheeks in various directions.

(*onomatopoeia for the sound of mushing your cheeks around)

It was a scene like reality didn’t exist. The world was monochrome as ever, this girl I didn’t know who I was most likely meeting for the first time, was laughing as she touched my cheeks.

This is, yes, it must be-

“Am I dreaming….?”

It seemed like I had seen them since my parents died, absurdly terrifying dreams.

What I’m seeing right now, it’s no different from one of them.

“A dream? Hmm, well, that’s one way of seeing it-”

Hey, the girl said it. This is a dream.

If this is a dream, there’s nothing to fear. Until now I’ve had lots of dreams where I see my own death, at this point with the way this dream is going I won’t die. Besides, I have to wake up from this dream at some point.

“Um… Who are you?”

-I tried to ask, for the present. My cheeks were being pinched, so I said it with weird pronunciation.

“Me? I’m Maki-chan”

“Maki, chan?”

“Yup. The wind up Maki-chan.”

The girl that called herself that, smiled innocently, and released my cheeks.

Doing something like referring to herself with the “-chan” honorific, compared to her appearance, it was childish. The expression on her face looked more considerably childish than was appropriate for her age.

(*-chan honorific connotes cute or smallness, sometimes used between girls, often used for children and animals. The English equivalent would be -ie)

If this is my dream, she’s created by my mind or something, it’s possible in my deep psyche this kind of girl is my taste. …No, don’t think like that anymore. It’s not healthy.

“Well then… Ma-Maki-chan, what did you want from me?”

“Huuuh? I’ve told you so many times since earlier. Are you stupid?”

Genuine amazement, with that expression, Maki spoke

“Natsuhiko knows who Ruma-chan is right? Tell me where she is, quickly!”

How come you know my name- I didn’t think that. But because this is my dream, it’s not a mystery that a person appearing in my dream, Maki-chan, knows my name.

“No, I don’t any Ruma girl, but…?”

“Eeeeeeh~? You’re joooking!! Then just give me a hint about Ruma!”

"Y-You’re looking for a hint…”

I really don’t know her. The name Ruma, there’s no way I could forget it, because it’s so uncommon.

“By any chance, are you hiding Ruma-chan, Natsuhiko? You aren’t keeping her in confinement somewhere and trying to do dirty stuff to her, are you?!”

"I-I wouldn’t do that!”

Why are you saying such scandalous things.

“You’re serious?”

Maki-chan, with half-opened eyes, glanced at my eyes.

Though the gaze was intense, I was definite if I averted my eyes it seems I would be certified as a criminal, I firmly looked back.

“…It doesn’t seem like you’re telling a lie.”

Maki-chan said, after 10 seconds of staring into my eyes.

Somehow seeming to be clear of suspicion, I sighed. Why did I have to be suspected as a criminal or something in my own dream.

“But, hey, you aren’t hiding her, but you’ve met her, right?”

“Even though I keep telling you ‘I don’t know’…what kind of girl is Ruma-chan in the first place?”

“Hey! A transcendently beautiful girl, just like me!”

Eheh, she puffed her chest out and spoke. Although the girl in front of my eyes certainly was beautiful enough to put an idol to shame, she wasn’t embarrassed to call herself something like ‘transcendent’.

However, if she’s a splitting image of Maki-chan like she says, even so I’ve never met this Ruma girl before. I don’t think I could ever forget such an impressive appearance, even if I only saw it once.

“Well, unlike me, she’s in a round container.”

“Huh? A container?”

A beautiful girl in a container, what?

Is she a doll or something? Or is it a metaphor for her leading a sheltered life?

“F, for the time being, let me ask something… Is Ruma-chan a human?”

“Uuh, that’s, complicated?”

Maki-chan put her finger on her forehead, and spoke while tilted her head to the side.

“I’ll say one of them, human! If I’m forced to say one of them, human!”

"What a vague existence…”

I began to feel greatly perplexed.

How much have I been dreaming, anyway, even though I don’t have a clue it’s gone on too far. My soul was cornered having to imagine such an ambiguous character.

“Natsuhiko, you don’t who Ruma-chan is?”

“That’s what I told you since the beginning, isn’t it?”

“That’s really weird. Even though I feel her close by….”

Maki-chan furrowed her brow, she folded her arms and began to ponder.

“Hey… why are you looking for Ruma-chan, Maki-chan?”

“Hmm, for some reason?”

“Ah, ok..”

It appears, trying to understand this girl seems like a useless effort. Maki-chan personally, was acting like she was thinking to herself, but it looks like she doesn’t understand. But then, people that completely understand what they think themselves or anything like that probably don’t exist.

“Aaah. I dunno, I guess it can’t be helped.”

Fuu, Maki-chan breathed a sigh.

“Honestly, Natsuhiko is so useless.”

As expected, her tone sounded annoyed. You’re the one that misunderstood on your own accord, though I wanted to say that, I endured it. Losing my temper in my own dream is just sour.

“But hey, leaving like this…. ah, oh yeah!”

Maki-chan clapped her hands.

“I’ll grant Natsuhiko’s wish! That was the next thing!”

”…Wish?“

"Yep. There’s something you want, right?”

Her body leaned forwards as she smiled with her whole face. The eyes that stared straight at me, were a colour that reminded me of the deep sea, returning the gaze I felt like I was being sucked in.

What the heck is this girl.

Appearing suddenly, getting unexpectedly angry, suddenly smiling, and granting my wish all of a sudden.

In absolutely being an inhabitant of my dream, a product of my imagination, she was too abnormal. If this is a dream, if she’s been created from my memories, I have no idea why even one part of Maki-chan exists inside of me.

“You’ll grant my wish?”

“You got it! Because I’m a God!”

With confidence, she laughed, “Fufun”. Surely, an expression like this is what you would call the ‘Doya-Face’?

(*ドヤ顔/doyakao, a self-satisfied or triumphant look. Usually characterised by raising your chin and looking down at others with a smirk.)

“God? You are?”

“Maki-chan is God. God is Maki-chan. Though both are right, both are wrong.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Who knows? Isn’t there no reason?”

God. She’s God. If God really was here, though I think he’d be a considerably ill-natured guy, I get it. She’s not ill-natured, she’s just unintelligible.

Well, if she is God, there’s what she said, though.

“Wish, huh…”

What a convenient thing she said, what a convenient dream.

If this is a wish-granting dream, I’ve had these lots of times up until now. A dream where my parents are alive, and we now live together. Usually, it turns into a bad dream in the middle.

But, this is probably the first time I’ve been told I’ll get my wish granted in the dream.

“I can wish for anything?”

“That’s fine. But if the wish I grant for you is for 100 more wishes, that’s a no-no.”

Maki-chan made a cross in front of her face.

Anything.

At any rate this is just a dream, despite that feeling, I tried to think a little seriously.

Please revive my parents, that’s no good. To bring someone back from the dead, if something like that happened it would cause a huge uproar again. What’s more, in some manga, if I wished to revive the dead, they would be resurrected with the body they died with, that could happen.

Well what about, please make it so that my parents never died? Those kind of problems won’t happen if I wish for that. Living together with my parents and my little sister, I also wouldn’t be separated from Sora again.

"No, I can’t..”

If I lost them again, what would I do?

I don’t know what’s lurking in the unknown tomorrow.

Can I be sure that there’s no possibility I won’t lose my parents in an accident again?

That scene from 7 years ago. Red blood, the red car, those detestable smells.

I don’t know if those will happen all again. There’s no guarantee that it won’t happen.

Yes. My true wish. That is, surely…

“I want to live in peace…”

“Peeeace?”

“Yeah. I want a peaceful future. Without any kind of unfortunate incidents, I want a calm, unchanging, peaceful future.”

Where I won’t suddenly lose people important to me, that future.

"Hmmm? Is Natsuhiko scared of tomorrow?”

Maki-chan spoke like she saw through my heart.

“You’re weird. And you’re also scared. But hey, it’s better than pooping yourself”

“Pooping myself…?”

“That’s another story. …Well then, here you go.”

While she sat with her knees together and legs on the floor, Maki-chan held out her right hand to me.

In the palm of her hand, produced out of somewhere, was a single cube.

“This is?”

“The device that will grant Natsuhiko’s wish”

The cube I received was a regular hexahedron, about 5cm on each side.

Feeling it with my hands, I didn’t know which material it was. It was as heavy as metal, the feel was smooth.

“But, be careful.”

Like Maki-chan was looking at my face from below, she said.

Her facial expression had completely changed from earlier, her childishness had disappeared, and bewitching-ness had drifted over.

“When you use magic, you mustn’t use up your MP, ok?”

“That’s…do you mean I’ll need to pay?”

“Compensation, cost, recoil, rebound, the names and meanings are all the same.”

A sweet voice. She was like a different person.

“That’s what the box is”

“Box?”

“If you think about trying to put something in the box, the thing you put inside has to come out. Because the box is always full. Otherwise, the box will break. The box is the same as the world. Though you could also say the world is the same as the box.”

The box came first? The world came first? When she said that, Maki-chan chuckled.

”….I really don’t understand"

“Natsuhiko’s stupid”

While she laughed, Maki-chan drew closer to the base of my neck, and sighed,’Fuu’. I couldn’t react at all. I was just captivated by her wet-looking eyes.

Expressing a disparaging smile to me, Maki-chan stood up.

“See ya Natsuhiko. Tell me if you meet Ruma-chan.”

Part 2 –>