#silly post aside I genuinely take this as possibly the best comment I have ever received so thank you

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(Tags courtesy of @kaijubrains )

[starryjyrus]

What Jyrus Means Too Me and Why I’ll Never Be Fully Won Over By Tyrus:

!!TW OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AND DISCUSSION OF MENTAL HEALTH!!

The Summer of 2017 was by far the best Summer I’ve ever had, it’s kind of a shame it was followed by the worst Summer I’ve ever had..

Anyway, back at that time I had been really into SmurfVlogs (still am, I’ve been watching him since about 2015-16 I’d say) anyway, everyone had been mourning the loss of Girl Meets World and he had announced on his channel that Disney planned on making a show similar to GMW and that the pilot had been released on YouTube, I became hella curious especially when I had heard the rumor that there was a possibility of a gay main character and that there was supposedly going to be a gay love triangle between Cyrus/Andi/Jonah, this definitely peaked my interest considering Disney, outside of Good Luck Charlie and a few other cameo like characters/relationships spotted in different movies/series, like Finding Dory, hadn’t really had that. And a MAIN character? Possibly TWO main characters being LGBT? I obviously had to watch. I of course heard other things that made the series look good, ie the Teenage Pregnancy storyline, the diversity in casting and more, but this is what sold me. Thus started my obsession.

Anyway, I watched the show. I watched the first episode on YouTube and continued watching after that, I remember the break in between the middle of season 1 that was only like two weeks, I remember seeing missing scenes in the show that wasn’t in the original promo (their was a shot of the coming out scene in the season one promo, if it wasn’t obvious to some episode 1 of season 2, or at least the first half, was originally the episode 13 of season 1) and I remember the speculation around that and the reasoning as to why they had cut that scene out.

I was in love with it. The whole storyline was just so pure and the relationship between Jonah and Cyrus was the single best thing I’ve ever witnessed. I made a fan account on Insta for it, a Tumblr, edits and so much more. The whole community was so beautiful and it was so much fun and wholesome. I’d watch the show and remember how amazing the world could be, how something like the ‘friendom’ could exist haha. I was getting older and I know it seemed weird (I was going into my Sophomore year, possibly just ending my Freshman year of school when I started watching) to be so invested in a CHILDS show but I couldn’t help it. It was an escape from reality. A place with positivity and happiness which at that time I desperately needed.

I made some of my best memories of my life during that time of the show premiering and during the hiatus. And the majority was because of things in relation to Jyrus. I’ll never forget those times and what being connected into a fandom like that was like.

The friends, the edits, the Insta live-streams from casts, it was insane too see how happy they got from it all and how much of a new experience it was. Other things like the Asher ‘be you’ memes and Josh on here with his ‘persongoingfast’ tumblr made it great as well. Even if I’m not a big fan of Josh as a person now, due to reasons, (mainly with him seemingly making fun of or mocking Jyrus and stuff like that, considering I used to really look up to him and be a big fan to see belittle something I cared so deeply about hurt me on a level l cannot describe) him being so interactive then was still an amazing thing and helped make things so much more fun at that time, so thank you @joshua-rush for that. Sincerely.

Everything was so beautiful during that..until it lwasn’t.

My mental health got really bad due to some losses and such in my family around November of 2017 and I had to be hospitalized in a mental health facility for a few weeks. It was extremely scary but I found comfort in the place, mainly due to some fellow people inside that watched Andi Mack, relating to them and being able to talk about the show with people who actually watched it? It was incredible. No one up to that point (aside from my mom who I forced to watch with me) watched the show and could talk with me about it.

I got out and the support and concern I get from friends online was overwhelming, so many people cared about me while I was gone and worried about me. No one ever really did that, at least my friends didn’t, I remember opening my phone for the first time on the way back home when we stopped at a McDonalds and the amount of messages put me into tears. There were people online who I’ve never met and we only really knew each other through a ship and a show genuinely CARED about me? It was breathtaking. I have much more friends now that would be concerned and care about me, but at that time irl I really didn’t. And the fact so many did was unbelievable.

Everything slowly but surely was getting better and worse in some areas, my overall depression state was getting better, due to medication and such, but I had relapses a few times in bad areas like self harming as well. It was pretty back and forth for a while.

Then, the worst thing that could’ve happened, happened. A quick backstory is that I don’t live with my mom, I haven’t since 7th grade and instead have lived with my Great Aunt and Great Uncle. I was always very close to them for my entire life, especially my Great Uncle, he was for a long time the most important person in my life, he was like a father too me. Hell, he WAS my father for the majority of my life. And last year on July 11th, he had unfortunately passed away.

This was absolutely devastating and considering I already was struggling with mental health and depression in the first place..ya can probably guess the spiral that ensured.

For a while I was doing okay, and then one day I broke, it had been around the time of Cyrus confirming he no longer had a crush on Jonah and when everyone started to switch from Jyrus to Tyrus and Jyrus shipper hatred became pretty popular. People were sending a specific Jyrus shipper anons of saying they wished they’d die just because they shipped Jyrus, you couldn’t go on YouTube comment sections on videos about Jyrus because you had people shitting on it everywhere, people started commenting under Jyrus edits on Instagram about how Tyrus was better and how gross it was to ship Jyrus, I got DMs of people genuinely upset because I didn’t like Tyrus, I had friends leave the sites due to the bullying they were receiving, we had some Tyrus account going around saying Jyrus shippers were ped*philes, It was insane. Now, I of course was NO saint and I know I’ve done and said some messed up shit too and if I ever hurt anyone I am deeply sorry for that, it was not my intention. And I know Jyrus shippers are not all saints either but this was just out of control. Especially whenever it was hurting a lot of people who were innocent and making them feel wrong about something as little as shipping something.

And I had a mental breakdown. I had just lost the most important person in my life and now the place that I considered my safe haven was crumbling before my eyes and all I could do was watch. It was too much. I had people saying they wanted shippers like me dead, and finally I just couldn’t handle it and completely had a melt down. If you are already having thoughts like these and you have people reinforcing what you already thought and not making you feel like you belong, well, anywhere, it really does get too you.

I of course, came out alright. Thank you to the Tumblr creator that called the police that night for a lot of that.

I’m sorry this is so long but I’ve been holding this in for so long so please bare with me.

Anyway, I am doing much better now and I’m thankful to be here still. I’m learning to fight against the haters rather then take shit and bottle things up like I used too. I still have a lot of issues but since that awful night, I haven’t had any plans of suicide or many thoughts of it.

I’m going into my last year of high school and soon I’ll be a legal adult. It’s been such a ride to get here and honestly I never thought I would but I finally think I’m getting past all of the shit in my past and am moving on.

My main reason to make this post and to be so open about everything here was to try to explain a lot of why I’m always going to be for Jyrus and not so much for Tyrus. I have other issues then the fans when it comes to Tyrus, but it has always been a main one when it comes to me not wanting to ship it.

When I look at Jyrus, despite them being pure and amazing on their own, I see some of my last good memories, I see the best time of my life, I see a point where I felt the best and where everything was going really right too me, I see long lasting friends, I see beautiful edits, I see a community, I see love, I see loyalty and so much more.

But when I look at Tyrus, all I see is the bad memories I have associated with them and the shippers, in a lot of ways, Tyrus has been a huge source of my personal pain in life, I know it seems silly and it probably is, but I have such an emotional dependence on Jyrus and Tyrus messed me up in a lot of ways in regards to that. I lost the majority of my safe haven when they emerged as more then just a crack ship. All I see when I look at them is sadness and that’s all I’m probably going ever going to see.

I tried in numerous areas to get fully on board with the ship but I just can’t. I have no love for it in a way I do for Jyrus. It’s not a terrible ship, I know that, but throughout everything that has happened even if it had no flaws I don’t think I’d ever ship it a lot.

I know everyone has their own version of things and reasons why they ship what they ship or don’t ship what they ship or like some shippers but hate others, this is just my personal story on the matter and I hope it clears up some of why I act the way I do online sometimes and why I’m so defensive of the ship and shippers.

Sorry this was so weird, I just needed to get this off of my chest cause I’ve had it in there for so long and I needed to talk about it.

[sugaroons]

citrus and smoke (hp au)

“Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you weren’t a pureblood?”

(image credit)

pairing: regulus!min yoongi x reader wordcount: 4572 chapter summary: min yoongi is the little king, the heir to the most illustrious line of purebloods. he’s prepared to fulfill his destiny—the one his older brother had thrown away—until the illusion breaks, the blood on his hands too much to bear. disclaimers/warnings: i blame namjoon’s hogwarts sorting for this gratuitously angsty, borderline-crackfic-y collection. (x-posted on ao3.)

yoongi | jimin | seokjin | jungkook | hoseok | namjoon | taehyung

When Min Yoongi is nine years old, he loses a loved one forever.

Yoongi is born less than two years after his older brother. He's a runt of a child, sickly and skinny and small. Yoongi’s size makes him invisible: he often overhears the adults who visit, the ones who call him a 'poor specimen’ and tell his parents they're lucky their first child is such a success. Yoongi cries himself to sleep, but he agrees: for the first ten years of Yoongi's life, his brother is his sun, moon, and stars.

In a home like theirs, where Mother is bored unless she's gossiping with other pureblood socialites, and Father is always out negotiating deals with foreign merchants, Yoongi and his brother take care of each other. Only his brother will help him get the books he wants from the top shelf, will run at half the speed so Yoongi can catch him, and watch stars with him on the roof of their manor. When Yoongi is nine years old, he sends his brother off to Hogwarts with tears welling in his eyes.

He gets his first letter by owl a day after classes begin. Yoongi can tell from the look in Father’s eyes and the tightness around Mother’s mouth that something is wrong. “Gryffindor.” Mother spits the word out like a curse, and Yoongi knows, then, that something has been irrevocably broken.

Yoongi continues to receive weekly letters until the second month. He suspects it’s because of the group of friends his brother has made: an old-money pureblood Mother and Father would approve of; a half-blood whose books are the only thing more worn than his robes; and an awkward fourth boy whose name his brother can barely remember. Yoongi is comforted by the thought that someone like Kim Seokjin made friends with someone as great as his brother. Maybe going to Hogwarts will be better than Yoongi expects.

When Min Yoongi is sixteen years old, he becomes the heir of his bloodline.

The Mins celebrate with a lavish affair, their manor filled with pureblood guests and free-flowing elderflower. Only the best for their only son, Mother declares to her friends, with a smile and tightness around her eyes. Yoongi weaves his way through the circles gracefully, the perfect pureblood son. It's the best revenge on those who'd called him a runt, but it all feels empty. With each interaction, Yoongi cannot help but wonder how his brother would have spoken, how much charm or guile or bluntness he would have used.

He makes it to the end of the room mentally exhausted, and his brows furrow at the sight of an almost-familiar face. You’re in his—what is it?—Potions class, he thinks, and in Slug Club with him right after. He racks his brain trying to remember what your name was, but he’s drawing a blank. You’re not part of the Sacred 28, but evidently your parents are important enough, or possibly, rich enough, to warrant your presence at his party. He reaches you right as your guardian leaves, and you’re all alone, swirling your glass of sparkling champagne and staring at it with disdain. “Hello,” he says with a nod.

You smile at him pleasantly enough, but you narrow your eyes like you’re trying to remember something. “Ah, Yoongi-sshi!” you say suddenly, your eyes wide.

Had you forgotten his name at his own celebration? His mouth quirks up in a smirk of disbelief. “Yes, that’s me.” Clearly, someone had failed their pureblood etiquette classes. It makes Yoongi all the more curious, enough not to return to his Father’s side like he’d planned.

“The decorations are lovely. Compliments to your mother’s excellent taste,” you say with a smile, the words coming out like you were reading them from a page. Yoongi narrows his eyes at you, impatience written all over his face. He’d come across many people playing the manipulation game, and you’re either a real rookie or not trying at all. Or, perhaps, a test from his mother. At that thought, his mind clears.

Yoongi regains his composure and lets his face assume a more neutral expression. “I’ll be sure to tell her,” he says. “You’re familiar with our family’s motto?”

“Yes,” you murmur, studying the flower arrangements, “amaranth and white lilies, toujours pur , I should have seen it earlier.” You beam at him, and the genuineness of the smile almost has him taken aback. You seem to be a stray kitten walking into a den of vipers. “Always pure, hmm. How far back can you trace your ancestry?”

“As far back as it matters, I suppose?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, making a mental note to review his family tapestry. Surely the purity of their bloodline was ensured?

“‘As it matters,’ I see,” you say dismissively, the fake smile back on your face. “I suppose that’s why Mama wanted me to talk to you so badly. I apologize for taking so much of your time, Yoongi-sshi.” You bow your head once and scurry away, the champagne nearly spilling from your glass as you walk briskly.

Yoongi works to keep his face stoic at one of the most oddly honest interactions he’s had in over four years. He feels a tinge of annoyance at how easily you’d dismissed the importance of bloodlines but cannot deny how refreshing it was to speak to you. More importantly, he did not think of his brother once during your whole conversation. Letting out a quiet snort, Yoongi faces the rest of the night feeling a little less tense than before, his eyes drifting to the lilies found in every corner of the room.

The first time Yoongi remembers his mother smiling directly at him is when he gets his Hogwarts letter. The Mins are entertaining guests that day, and Mother needs to maintain her perfect image. Yoongi nods once, promising to live up to the family name.

Yoongi’s older brother runs off to his friends as soon as they’re at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, leaving Yoongi and his father behind. Father pats him on the shoulder, and Yoongi tells himself not to get used to it, to keep his face stoic. Amidst the noise on the platform—mothers kissing their daughters goodbye, sisters telling their little brothers scary stories about the Whomping Willow, bright-eyed children waving at their older siblings—the place where the Mins stand seems bleak, two figures clad in black, silent and somber.

The other first-years chatter excitedly to one another on the boats across the Great Lake. Yoongi is silent, listening to them and trying to sound out responses in his head. When he can’t think of what to say, he dismisses them as young and inane, instead searching for the Squid in the depths below.

“My, my,” the Sorting Hat says when it’s placed on Yoongi’s head. “So much ambition in you, isn’t there? So much greed and want, and the will to make everything happen. Clever, too.” Yoongi smirks, though he feels a spark of joy at being recognized for what he’s wondered about all along. “Yes, there’s no question about it. You belong in…SLYTHERIN!”

The cheers and applause Yoongi gets as he walks to the table, the feeling of belonging among the students clad in silver and green, the looks of admiration as they find out his last name: all of these Yoongi claims as his birthright.

The first time Yoongi remembers Slughorn looking directly at him is his first sixth-year Potions class. Maybe it’s because he’s finally the Min heir, or maybe it’s the fact that Yoongi’s grades are the highest in his year. Either way, something about Min Yoongi is indelibly different, and his head of house cannot help but notice.

Min Yoongi’s assigned partner had the second-highest OWL score. He’s more surprised that it’s you he ends up partnered with, though he should have known, before seeing you in the blue-and-bronze-lined robes, that you’d be in Ravenclaw. Thankfully, Slughorn says your name, so Yoongi can address you properly when he needs something done.

“Chop chop chop,” he says, tossing you the roots you’ll be needing for the experiment. You shrug, taking the roots and slicing them just so, the juice seeping from them like blood from a wound. Yoongi’s only seen his house elf do it that way before, and the simple efficiency of it has Yoongi trying to make conversation. “No comments on the meaning of these plants?” he says.

You look at him, making a face. “Mama has given up on marrying me to anyone. You’re the most eligible young bachelor, now, and she wanted a last hurrah from me, but what can I say?” You shrug, the lopsided smile on your face more charming than you think. “I’m hopeless.”

“Spoken like a true Ravenclaw,” Yoongi says as he begins to heat the cauldron up.

“You’d be surprised, Min Yoongi, at how many Slytherins end up dying from poisoned potions,” you say, gesturing with your knife. You laugh a little, then, before saying, “House stereotypes are silly, anyhow, but not as bad as blood purity reasoning.”

Yoongi doesn’t think any Slytherin in his year would ever talk like you, but he keeps that to himself. The two of you make the potion quickly and quietly, as you will the rest of the year. Odd comments aside, you’re probably the best Potions partner Yoongi’s had so far. Both you and Yoongi have plans to take Potions NEWTs, so Slughorn assigns you extra work, and the two of you find yourselves working on assignments together in the library, or after hours at the top of Ravenclaw tower. Tonight is one such night, your study session lit by the bright full moon.

“Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you weren’t a pureblood?” you say, scribbling some notes on your enchanted parchment. As they appear on Yoongi’s own sheet, he marks them with his comments, then taps at his chin with the feather-end of his quill.

“I wouldn’t be me,” he says simply. “What would be left?” Not his housemates’ respect, nor his parents’ love. Maybe his older brother. Yoongi doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole, refuses to think about how his brother is out right now with his gang of friends, in the Shrieking Shack with their werewolf of a housemate.

You look at him, then, incredulity in your tone but sympathy on your face, as if you’ve read his mind. “Many things, Yoongi.” You reach out and pat his hand, your eyes focused on his. He looks away first, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the moment. Most people tend to keep him at arm’s length, especially now that he’s the Min heir.

“Doesn’t look like this potion we’re writing up will be one of them, especially if we keep staring at the moon,” you say lightly, changing the subject. You shift closer to him, though, your arm touching his as you write. Yoongi doesn’t move away.

 There’s something about Min Yoongi that has his housemates clamouring for his approval. Maybe it’s the careless way with which he speaks his mind, his words as sharp as a well-filed blade. Yoongi doesn’t play quidditch, gets excellent marks, and doesn’t party—by normal Slytherin standards, he’d be at the bottom of the food chain. In his eyes, however, is a hungry look, one that warns his housemates not to get in his way.

No one dares mention Yoongi's older brother, who's growing to be more of a blood traitor with each passing day. He and Yoongi acknowledge each other in the halls with a quick nod, though his brother's friends glance at him as if he were something strange. Yoongi maintains the cool façad e, but misses his brother dearly.

The red and gold posters begin to appear in his brother's room, along with paraphernalia that clearly isn't of the wizarding world, and Yoongi begins to worry. He knows his older brother's friends aren't the type of people Mother and Father would approve of, but this was something different. Still, Yoongi has faith that his brother will do the right thing. He would never leave Yoongi behind.

He does and leaves Min Yoongi devastated, all the more determined to be the perfect pureblood son. When Yoongi graduates, he is immediately assigned as the executive assistant to the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It’s a desk job with a lot of glory attached, and Yoongi receives many simpering letters from the purebloods trying to suck up to him, still trying to find a place at his side. You send him a pleasant enough message, but he knows you’re disappointed he didn’t take a job he’d actually enjoy, one he’d feel fulfilled in. Never mind, he thinks, how much did your opinion matter? He ignores the sinking feeling in his gut as no new owls from you come in, your last words to him being a cold, sterile congratulations.

There’s something about Min Yoongi that you can’t put your finger on, something different about him five months after graduation. You’re looking him up and down, watching him standing on your doorstep. He is, weary and worn, skinny and pale like a waning moon. You pull him into your small flat and lock the door, turning around to find he’s dropped a concealment charm. Yoongi stands there, blood streaking his cheeks and bruises all over his arms. Wordlessly, he yanks his sleeve up and shows you his Dark Mark.

The moment stretches on, your breaths and his the only sounds in the room. Yoongi is afraid he’s made the wrong decision: maybe you’ve misunderstood, or maybe you’ll report him to the Ministry, or maybe you’ve been his mother’s spy all along. You rush at him, and Yoongi shuts his eyes and prepares for the worst—he could never hurt you—not expecting the feeling of your arms around his neck. The angle is awkward, and he’s getting blood all over your clothes, but Yoongi tucks himself into your embrace. Your shirt becomes wet with the tears he’s held in since he first took the Mark, from the moment he’d been made to torture a muggle then obliviate them after. “It’s too much,” he says between gasps, and you hold him tighter but say nothing.

Beneath the smell of smoke and blood and dark magic—a scent overly sweet, like fruit on the verge of rot—is the smell of clean citrus and Min Yoongi, the Yoongi of your Hogwarts nights in the starlight. In his embrace you feel his repentance. When you clutch him close to you, the warmth of your body seeping through the chill of his cloak on a cold, stormy night, he knows he can place his life in your hands.

You instruct him on how to use your muggle shower, turning the heater on and showing him which knobs to twist. For a moment, Yoongi is tempted to ask you to stay, if only so he won’t be alone, but he can’t find the right words to say. Yoongi lets the shower run on his clothes, standing there for what feels like hours. He startles when someone knocks at the door, his hand going to his wand, and he doesn’t put it down till he hears your muffled voice telling him you’ve left some clothes out. Yoongi foregoes wearing the dark sweater you’ve lent him; even the soft fabric would rub against the wounds on his torso. He pulls on the loose pajama pants and pads downstairs in your soft slippers.

Sitting him down on your kitchen counter, you get to work, pouring him a cup of black tea while you pour liquids from different vials into a big metal bowl. Yoongi recognizes Murtlap essence and dittany leaves when you bring it beside him. The look on your face is blank as you place a towel into the mixture, squeeze it, and begin to wipe it over his chest. He realizes that you’re counting his wounds in your head, your breathing becoming unsteady as you continue to heal his wounds. You bite your lip, and Yoongi resists the urge to wipe the tears at the corner of your eyes. “It’s too much,” he says again, his voice hoarse. You look up at him briefly, and Yoongi knows you can feel how quickly his heart beats in his chest, like it’s threatening to burst.

“He’s inhu-human.” Yoongi stutters as your hands, cold from the liquid, make their way across his back, taking the viscous drops from the bowl and rubbing them into his larger wounds. “I’ve done horrible things in the past few months, but today they asked me to kill someone, a house elf that was too slow in its service. I hesitated and was punished for my disloyalty. I’m lucky I’m not dead.” Yoongi sounds detached, but his fists clench in anger. You place one hand on his, and he holds it loosely.

“I mean it literally when I say he’s a monster. His soul, it’s split into pieces, and one of them is in Slytherin’s locket.” His whisper is fierce, his grasp on your hand tightening. “My house elf, the one he wanted me to kill, knows where he hid it.” You wait for him to say more, but it seems he’s waiting for something.

He’s watching you like a cornered animal, readying himself for whatever response you’ll give. Disgust, fear, disappointment: all of them, he deserves, and all of them he’s prepared to hear, but you still manage to surprise him. “My parents decided to leave this blasted country two weeks ago.” Your tone is light as you squeeze the towel over the bowl, the liquid turning light brown with blood before growing clear once more. “Business is better abroad, they told me, asking me to follow.”

You lean in, gingerly pulling him close. The scent of your soap is strong on him, you think as he wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place without force. You sigh, your breath hot against his damp hair. “Where do we begin?”

It is an hour past midnight, but the sea is alive, crashing loudly against the rocks by the cave. Yoongi had prepared to say his last goodbyes to you, but here you are, standing with him and his house elf at what looks like the entrance to hell. He wants and does not want you there, but he cannot deny how glad he is you’ve come.

Kreacher eyes you with distrust, but stays quiet in deference to his young master. Yoongi has told you little about what is to follow, though he asked you to fill four vials with Dogbreath potion. You brought three regular ones and the experimental version you made, mixed with an oil to make it temporarily impervious to water. Yoongi’s placed a locket on your neck, telling you to keep it safe. Still, you have no idea what will happen tonight, and it is only the thought of Yoongi’s face at your flat, vulnerable and desperate, that keeps you from bolting.

Fear sits heavy in the pit of your stomach, and you reach out for Yoongi’s hand in the dark. He grasps it and pulls you close, and you feel his nose against your own before you tilt your head up, kissing him in the dark. You close your eyes, and for a moment, you’re standing at the window of Ravenclaw tower, the stars twinkling down on you. You can taste the salt on his mouth, not knowing if the tears are yours or his. In your kiss are all the stolen moments in the library, where both of you ignored the parts you had to play, the press of his mouth against your own like a final blessing. You break apart too soon, and you hold back the sobs that threaten to choke, the thought that this may be the last time it will happen.

You both cast Lumos, and Kreacher points up at a door that neither you nor Yoongi would have seen. Yoongi takes a knife from his pocket and lets drops of his blood drip onto the door, which shudders open, the rusty hinges creaking. To your relief, the door does not shut, but the light from your wands give no clue as to what’s inside. Yoongi holds you back when you step in, lighting the ground below with his wand. Five more steps, and you would have fallen into the eerily calm lake that takes up nearly the entire inner cave. You hold your breath as Kreacher gestures again, this time to a chain dangling from the ceiling, pointing to the island in the middle of the lake. Yoongi approaches it, pulling at the chain and revealing an invisible boat. He places it on the water and gets in, and the water remains undisturbed, but when you try to  step in, he shakes his head frantically, not allowing you to follow. Kreacher steps in after him, and the boat moves across the boat with Kreacher’s magic. Yoongi gets off and nods at you from the island, allowing Kreacher to go back for you.

When you get to the island, you find Yoongi facing a basin, a serious look on his face. “Have you tried everything?” you murmured, like any sound in this cave would wake things too terrible to name. He nods solemnly before placing his mouth to the rim, preparing to drink. You gasp quietly and reach out to stop him, but something holds you in place, and Kreacher stands in front of you sternly.

As he drains the liquid, he begins to shudder and his chest heaves. “No,” Yoongi says, the tears streaming down his face, his body curled over onto the basin. He's looking at something over your shoulder, but when you turn, there’s nothing there. “Don’t leave! Don’t!”

“I won’t, Yoongi!” you say, biting back the tears. Kreacher has still not let you go, and you realize that Yoongi’s ordered him to do this to you. The house elf is watching his master with pleading eyes, as if begging him not to do this.

Yoongi does not seem to hear you, shaking his head and continuing to drink. When the basin is completely empty, he gestures at Kreacher, and you run to Yoongi’s side. At the bottom of the basin is a locket identical to the one around your neck. You take yours off immediately and swap it for the one in the basin. As you put it on, you feel as if a weight’s been placed on your shoulders, a despair seizing you. You watch dully as Yoongi reaches for water, tries conjuring some up and eventually bends down to the lake’s edge to drink. It’s when you see a hand reach up for him that you wake from your daze, casting Expelliarmus at the hand that tries to drag Yoongi in.

Kreacher pulls Yoongi back from the surface, and you take a gulp of Dogbreath potion, breathing out hard to ward off the Inferi that have started to climb out of the water. You gesture wildly at Kreacher, who levitates Yoongi’s body into the boat and begins to make their way across. You toss Kreacher a Dogbreath potion and continue to blow flames at the Inferi, narrowly avoiding your foot in the process. Yoongi is still barely moving as they land nearer the entrance to the cave, and you see Kreacher stand there, looking at you. You see his intent, how easy it would be for them to leave you behind, and you call out Yoongi’s name desperately. “Please, Yoongi, please wake up,” you say, as you uncork the last vial of Dogbreath. You see Yoongi wave an arm up, and immediately Kreacher boards the boat to return for you.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” you say, finding it difficult to resent the house elf. You too would not choose to leave Yoongi’s side, especially in the state he’s in. Still, you feel heavy with fear until Kreacher yanks at the chain of the locket, gesturing for you to place it on him. As soon as it’s off you, you’re clear-headed enough to plan your next steps. You shut the heavy door behind you before kneeling onto the ground, cradling Yoongi’s body in your arms.

His pulse is weak and his lips are dry, and you immediately try to conjure water for him. Mercifully enough, you’re able to, and Yoongi finally, finally opens his eyes. Before you can say anything, Yoongi looks at Kreacher again, who apparates you back to your flat before disappearing, the locket’s weight stooping his back more than usual. You wait for him to follow, watching the clock tick slowly.

With dawn comes the knowledge that you will never see Min Yoongi again.

It is an hour till the sun rises, your partner tells you. The two of you are assigned to the night watch, the last shift before the Order moves its headquarters. You’re new and a pureblood, so Moody assigns you to one of their staunchest members. “Min, keep an eye on her,” he’d said, and you can’t hide the look of shock on your face at finally meeting Min Yoongi’s older brother.

He’s more traditionally handsome that Yoongi, his shoulders broad and features strong. His easy laughter and charming winks mark his differences from Yoongi, but you watch him closely and see the similarities: the nose scrunches, the proud smirks, and the gummy smiles. When you first see him, you resist the urge to burst into tears. Now, the sight of him brings with it a dull ache, a longing that will never go away. It’s been nearly a year, and it’s only now that you’re beginning to accept that Yoongi is gone forever.

Yoongi’s older brother nods silently at you, apparating off to the next location. Before you can follow, however, four hooded figures appear, and you groan.

Thankfully, you see them before they see you, and you’re able to hit one of them with a full-body bind, leaving three of them for you to fight. You cast a spell that has another one thrown against a lamp post. You’re in the back alley of a mostly muggle district, and you’re praying no one passes by. Your non-spell hand is hit with some kind of paralysis hex, and your arm begins to tingle painfully, till it feels like it’s on fire. You fall to the ground, the curses flying around you, when you hear the footfalls of someone running from behind you. You raise your wand arm, eyes half shut from the pain, trying to aim at the hooded figures as they stand in the shadow, the sky above beginning to streak with orange.

The person from before runs in front of you, his worn sneakers skidding to a halt a foot in front of your face. You cannot see his face, but the scent of citrus is impossible to mistake. You drink a numbing potion and get to your feet, and Min Yoongi reaches out for your hand. You can’t feel his fingers threaded between yours, but the sparks up your arm are no longer from pain. You raise your wands in synch, twin smiles on your faces.

With dawn comes nothing sure, no destiny to live up to, nothing but the firm, solid grip of his hand in yours as the two of you stand to fight.

[theyearofthestar]

[ duets ] rachel & jessi

WHO: Rachel Berry (@theyearofthestar) & Jessi St. James (@heavenlystjames)

WHERE: A Cup-pella

WHEN: Saturday, November 25

WHAT: Gobble Wobble Prompt: Karaoke Duel

rachel

While she knows that some Wobblers' aim for the day is receiving the annual shirt, Rachel doesn't much care for expanding her wardrobe. She mostly wants to hit up a couple of the bars, drink just enough to feel that tell-tale buzz, and end her day at ACup, most likely on the stage. So Rachel starts her day at The Library, wanting to support Hunter's efforts and snag a chocolate dream turkey before drinking and eating her way back to ACup. Sondheim stuck in her head, Rachel's nursing her second Turkey Lurkey and halfway through a butternut and carrot handpie when the free barstool beside her becomes occupied. Looking over the rim of her glass as she takes another sip, Rachel smirks. "I didn't realize that Warblers wobbled."

jessi

Honestly, the shirt one can win at the end of this whole thing isn´t exactly why Jessi´s out tonight. It´s a good way to hang out with friends, have some fun and dance the night away. Oh and the booze, yeah that´s definitely a plus too. Jessi isn´t one to get insanely drunk, and possibly do stupid things, but she enjoys a good drink here and there, especially if they have names as appealing “Turkey Lurkey.” She´s lost most of her friends after two hours and while Jessi doesn´t mind being by herself for a while she can´t really resist when she sees Rachel at the bar. They have a bit of a weird relationship these days, very competitive and always head on, but then there´s those times when they´re in the bathroom after the battle of the bands, unable to take their hands off each other. “Oh of course we do, it starts with the same letter after all,” She grins, putting her drink down at the bar. “Besides: I heard they´re doing a karaoke contest here in a few. I just HAD to come,”

rachel

If anyone is watching them across the room, Rachel figures they'll assume she and Jessi are bickering. It's their public persona after all, rivals on and off stage, and Rachel thinks that would likely be true if their respective professional goals aligned. But their dreams and aspirations fork off into different paths, which means Rachel truly does appreciate and respect Jessi's talent for what it is. Her voice is beautiful, stage presence perfected, and the confidence she exudes enviable. "You know April. Any excuse she has to get in front of the mic herself and she'll take it." Another sip of her drink. "Are you planning to participate as well?"

jessi

Jessi doesn´t really care what anyone thinks of them. They´ve kept up the rival personas so far, but mainly because the bickering comes so easy to them, but they never mean any harm. Deep down Jessi knows that Rachel can appreciate her talent, both on and off stage, and it´s the same for her. They´d be unstoppable if they teamed up, not just in the bathroom but also on stage. Which is mainly why she´s here at the bar, talking to Rachel. Jessi´s lips curve into a smile and she nods. “What do you think? That´s what I´m here though. It´s a duet contest and I figured we´d teach these amateurs a lesson. Besides: The price, next to eternal fame, is free coffee and food for a week here and I´m not saying no to that.”

rachel

"The Jessi St. James requesting her nemesis take the stage with her?" Rachel places her hand over her heart in mock shock, nothing but teasing in her expression and tone. "Has the underworld frozen over? Is bacon flying through the sky?" Rachel laughs then and drains the rest of her drink, a smile forming after she licks her lips. "I suppose I can set aside our vast differences if it's for such a worthy cause as free caffeine and sustenance. Plus I'm sure our harmonies will be outstandingly brilliant."

jessi

“I´m not sure about the bacon, I haven´t checked.” Jessi teases with a smile. “But the point of nemesis is that they work exceptionally well together if they have to, isn´t that so? And if I´m going to take the stage I want the best at my side. We´re going to win this thing and make everyone´s mouths hang open, gasping for more.” She added with another grin before downing the rest of her drink and placing the empty glass on the bar. “Any special requests as to what we should blow them away with today? I´m feeling generous today so I´m giving you the first vote,”

rachel

"First vote, but you have veto power I take it?" Rachel can work with that. Though April hosts karaoke at ACup three times a week, Rachel doesn't too often participate. Mondays are out due to PL rehearsals, and she's almost always working or gigging on Friday evenings. However, every now and then she finds her way into ACup on Wednesdays, and has become fairly familiar with the song catalogue April's amassed. "How do you feel about 'Alone' by Heart?" Rachel thinks the lyrics suit the post-performance past she and Jessi share, plus the melody allows for belting and notes that will surely garner the attention of the crowd and reward them with a win.

jessi

“Of course, but I trust your judgement,” Jessi replies with a small chuckle, though shes completely serious about her words. If anyone knows their way around music like she does then its Rachel, which is another reason why she’s picked the fellow brunette so sing with. Besides: with their talent and chemistry in stage they’ve got this in the bag! “See? I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me,” she grins as she gets up from the bar stool and reaches over the counter to get the sign up list. “Got one of your gold stars to add to this?”

rachel

Rachel has the decency to blush just the tiniest of amounts. Gold stars are kind of her thing, and yes she does keep a few sheets of stickers with the rest of her drum kit and music for various reasons, but, "No. No stickers on me at the moment, so my plain Jane signature will have to do." Rachel adds her name next to Jessi's on the sign-up sheet, and then turns back to her newly minted ally and smirks. "I'd suggest warming up in the bathroom due to its acoustics, but I'm afraid temptation may cause us to miss our slot."

jessi

She had meant just to tease Rachel a little bit, but in reality the whole told star thing made Jessi smiled. It was rare that someone had enough confidence to fall themselves a star, let alone carry stickers to of gold stars to their name, but Rachel had always been admirable in that department. At the other woman’s words Jessi let out a small chuckle. “Ah yes, we couldn’t risk that. Some quick warm ups before the performance will have to do,” She hen agreed. “But I’m sure we’ll nail it, as per usual. The bathroom will have to wait until after we leave everyone with their mouths hanging open,”

rachel

It doesn't take too long for April to kick off the festivities and start the contest, though she does perform solo. It's her cafe, her stage, and her rules, of course. When the other acts begin to perform, Rachel watches them with a critical gaze, commenting to Jesse here and there about areas for improvement, and ways they can make their own number shine bigger and brighter. As it nears their turn, Rachel slips off the stool at the bar and raises her eyebrows in Jessi's direction. She has no doubt that they could easily take the stage and belt out the song without the need to warm-up, but it would simply be silly to do so. Rachel wouldn't head out for a run or tackle a spin class without warming up her muscles first, and her voice, one of her many gifted instruments, is very much the same.

jessi

While they all do enjoy performing with April sometimes she´s more of a solo performer, so of course she´s the one kicking off the contest and Jessi and Rachel are watching, commenting and discussing how to make their own performance a great one. Once April is done and the first couple gets on stage Jessi follows Rachel to their warm up in one of the corners. It´s pretty basic, especially considering there´s other people performing, but it´s enough to get them warmed up properly. It helps that they both knows what they´re doing and have similar routines, so the warm up passes quickly. Once their names are called Jessi´s lips curve into a grin and she glances over at Rachel. “Ready to deliver, gold star?”

rachel

"Of course. We were born to perform, Jessi." Rachel offers Jessi a genuine smile and then leads the way to the stage. It's always a bit strange when stands directly in front of a mic and there's no instrument -- no drums, piano, or on the rarer occasion a guitar -- between her and the stand, and as always, it takes Rachel a moment to settle her hands when there's no sticks or keys before her. But she does eventually grip the mic as the music begins, and Rachel looks to Jessi to start the song. It was her idea after all, so Rachel supposes it's only right she takes the initial spotlight.

jessi

„Truest words ever spoken,“ Jessi replies with a smile. She had always know that she was born to perform and entertain and for Rachel it’s the same. Maybe that’s why they gravitate towards each other so easily. She smiles again as she grips the mic, swaying along to the music as she waits for the lyrics to show up on the screen. It’s not like she needs them, really, but they’re good for the timing. Jessi glances over at Rachel then, her smile softening. 

“I hear the ticking of the clock. I'm lying here the room's pitch dark. I wonder where you are tonight. No answer on the telephone. And the night goes by so very slow. Oh, I hope that it won't end though... Alone.”

rachel

The melody crescendos into the chorus and Rachel's voice takes over as she belts. "Till now, I always got by on my own." She sucks in a another breath and nods at Jessi to join her for the next line, "I never really cared until I met you. And now it chills me to the bone... How do I get you alone? How do I get you alone?"  

It really is a shame that they split their respective talents on two different teams because their voices harmonize beautifully, and Rachel can tell that those within the cafe agree as well. Patrons that had been lost in their own conversations, or busy eating food or tossing back drinks are now watching them move on stage as the second verse begins, and this time, Rachel takes lead. "You don't know how long I have wanted to touch your lips and hold you tight." Playing off their chemistry, Rachel steps into Jessi's space, singing directly to her. "You don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight." Turning back to their gathering audience, "But the secret is still my own, and my love for you is still unknown... Alone."

jessi

Jessi listens to Rachel´s voice, her eyes glued to the other woman as she sings and when she finally joins in for a line her lips are curved into a smile and she feels that familiar spark ignite between them. For once there was no rivalry between them, and as much as Jessi enjoys their bickering she finds this quite interesting as well. She finishes the chorus and lets Rachel take the lead for a while, keeping her eyes on the Brunette as she sings, grinning when the other woman steps into her space. Jessi stays where she is, tongue darting out to lick her lip before she draws in a breath and sings again. “Till now I always got by on my own. I never really cared until I met you. And now it chills me to the bone. How do I get you alone.” She sings to the audience and then turns to Rachel, now it´s HER turn to step into the other´s space, a smirk on her face. The audience is long under their spell and boy, they´d most definitely have this thing in the bag. “How do I get you alone?” Jessi belts out the last note then, grinning still. “Tell me Miss Berry,” She speaks into the mic, “How do I get you alone?”

rachel

As the crowd applauds, Rachel raises a knowing brow in Jessi's direction. She's feeling good, great even. There's just enough alcohol coursing through her veins that Rachel feels warm, relaxed, and giddy rather than tired, and the continued clapping of ACup's patrons only serves to feed her ego and level of satisfaction. Well, most of her satisfaction. Replacing the mic in its stand, Rachel does a short bow and points in Jessi's direction, and then once the clapping has died down, moves to exit the raised area of the cafe's stage. Once they're out of earshot of most of those mingling around, "I think you know exactly how to get me alone, Jessi. It's never been a problem after previous performances."

jessi

The whole question has been more for the show than anything else, because Rachel is right: Jessi knows exactly how to get her alone and she´s positive that tonight isn´t going to be any different than the usual ones. Apart from the fact that this time, she´s buzzing with excitement more than she is with adrenaline. Usually they sing in opposite bands, battle against each other, and while that´s exciting as well it´s an altogether different feeling to be singing together for once. She takes her own little bow, enjoying the applause as the small crowd goes wild. They definitely did tear the house down, there´s no denying that, and it´s extremely satisfying. “Mhm…true.” She grins as she moves back towards the bar. “There´s about 6 more couples ready to sing, that gives us approximately 15-20 minutes before we can collect our prize.” She then adds, giving Rachel a wink as she moves towards the bathrooms.

rachel

After watching Jessi walk toward the cafe's restrooms, Rachel decides she should linger by the bar for anothr handful of seconds. She doesn't think they've ever been obvious before, and doesn't want to risk drawing attention now. When a suitable time has passed, Rachel confidentaly follow's Jessi's path. She enters the bathroom without a word, strides taking her directly to the last stall. It's almost old hat by now, the routine of knowing that the door is closed but unlocked, that Jessi's waiting. Opening the door just enough to slip inside, Rachel promptly closes and locks the stall, and then turns toward her, in this instance only, partner rather than rival. "I for one believe we deserve a victory lap for that stellar performance."

jessi

It´s always like that, but Jessi has to admit that it hasn´t gotten old yet. Maybe it should have, and maybe that´s an alarming sign, but she really doesn´t mind. Not when she feels her stomach fluttering at the simple thought of Rachel joining her. She freshens up her lipstick, for good measure and because she likes the idea of smearing it all over Rachel´s own lips and maybe her neck too. The prospect of having sex in a bathroom, no matter how clean April keeps it, really shouldn´t get her this excited, but here she is, lips curving into a grin as she hears the bathroom door. “Oh I think we do,” She then replies, pushing Rachel back against the door, her own lips only inches apart from the other woman´s. “I think we did excellent. Blew them all away with one shot,”

rachel

Rachel grins. "Well saying it as such only has me wanting to hum some Hamilton," she teases at first, "but I believe there are better things we could be doing..." The with their mouths is implied, and though Jessi is already close, Rachel wraps her fingers in the front of her shirt and pulls her that much closer. Leaning forward, her lips ghost along Jessi's jaw, teasing and tempting Jessi to chase her lips.

jessi

“Oh you know, you humming a bit of Hamilton might just turn me on even more,” Jessi replies with a grin, her voice barely a whisper as she lets herself fall into the feeling of having Rachel close again. It feels like it´s been forever since they´ve done this, when in reality it hasn´t ( of course not ) and she smiles, taking in the familiar scent and frame as she chases the other´s lips for a moment before capturing them with her own. She feels her lipstick smearing onto Rachel´s lips and her smile gets a little bigger then, one hand gliding down to the other woman´s hips and beneath her dress.

rachel

If Rachel's eyes weren't already closed they'd be rolling as she feels Jessi's lipstick smear. They never mark each other since marks can lead to questions Rachel doesn't wish to answer, so it always seems like Jessi's lipstick is a loophole and her own way to leave but a brief reminder of the brief time they've shared. Breaking the kiss, Rachel's hand snaked into Jessi's hair directs her mouth to her neck. Rachel takes the moment to breathe and then comment, "You're not wasting any time, are you?"

jessi

So maybe Jessi´s found her own, unique way of marking Rachel as her own, even if it´s just for a couple of minutes. It´s nothing that make up wipes can´t solve, an item they both always carry in their purses, but for now she can pretend that Rachel is hers, even if it´s just for the duration of another duet going on outside. She smiles as Rachel directs her to her neck then, placing a few kisses there and leaving some more lipstick. “Mhm…I`m not throwing away my shot,” Jessi then can´t help herself, a small chuckle falling from her lips before he leans in closer again, teeth lightly scraping across the soft skin on Rachel´s neck.

rachel

A laugh from deep within leaves Rachel's parted lips, though the third chuckle is swallowed up by a gasp and then an accompanying moan. Rachel's neck has always been sensitive, and today is no exception as jolts of electricity buzz from her neck, down her spine, and to her toes. It causes her hands -- one still in Jessi's hair and the other at her hip -- to tighten just so, to silently show how the touch affects her, and ultimately to encourage Jessi to continue.

jessi

Jessi loves knowing that her touches affect Rachel, because being as good of an actress as the other woman is it sometimes gets lost in their everyday conversation and rivalry. But this? This is different, it´s just between the two of them and Jessi makes sure to file away every noise and movement Rachel makes. She bites down on the other´s neck again, a little more forceful this time, a small moan slipping from her lips as Rachel´s had tightens in her hair. Jessi lets her hand trail a little higher then, fingernails scraping over Rachel´s inner thigh.

rachel

With each kiss to her neck -- and now a bite! -- Jessi steals more of the air in Rachel's lungs. She's breathless by the time she manages to puff out her demand in regards to Jessi's hand that's taking its time to travel along her thigh. "Stop teasing. You and I both know we don't have much time."

jessi

“Mhm...” She grins as she slips her hand even higher, pushing up Rachel’s dress in the process. “But you and I both know how much I love teasing you,” they are both rather good at it, really, but Rachel is right, they only have a limited amount of time, so Jessi hooks her fingers into Rachel’s panties and pulls them down, hand slipping between her legs,  lips finding her neck once more.

rachel

Teasing is something they do best, isn't it? It's part of their unconventional 'friendship' where they blur the lines between friends and rivals, parallel counterparts. There's always a give and go, see how far they can push one another in a direction before the other bites back. They've learned their respective limits and how to press each others buttons in the worst, and at present the best of ways. A soft, "Fuck, Jessi," fills the space around them, Rachel's answer to Jessi's continued attention at her neck and now between her legs. She'd maybe be embarrassed that she's as wet as she is, but Rachel's never shied away from the fact that performing and talent's a turn on.

jessi

At this state Jessi is quite glad that she knows how to push Rachel´s buttons, because there´s nothing hotter than her arch nemesis falling apart under her touch. ( And yes that might sound a little more dramatic than it really is, but the two of them have always been about the drama and why should that ever change? ). It´s a good thing that there´s singing going on outside, because Jessi would hate to tell Rachel to shut up. She enjoys the sounds the other woman is making and she really wouldn´t want to miss them. She bites down on Rachel´s neck, lips forming a smile as she pushes two fingers in easily, “Look at you…so ready for me…”

rachel

"Don't leave a--" But Rachel's chastisement is stolen as Jessi enters her. Grip tightening once again, Rachel uses the leverage to resituate her stance, not trusting her knees not to go weak, but also to give Jessi better access. Her hips pick up the rhythm of Jessi's strokes, and after she refinds her words, Rachel admonishes, "Don't let it go to that head of yours. If it inflates anymore you won't be able to exit this bathroom and claim the prize."

jessi

A small chuckle falls from Jessi’s lips and she stills her hand, pulling back to look at the other woman. “Want me to stop?” She hen teases, “Because my ego is getting too big?” She’s teasing again, of course, and maybe they cant help themselves with that. Jessi captures Rachel’s lips with hers then, in an attempt to take her breath away a little before moving her fingers again, thumb shifting to run over the other’s clit.

rachel

Oh, two can play that game. "If you stop, I'm never following you into a bathroom again, J." It's a teasing threat, and an empty one at that, because as long as they're both single and down for having a bit of post-performance fun, Rachel won't turn the attention away. Because really, that's a bit of what this boils down to. They both feed off talent as well as the associated attention. Jessi hits a particularly sensitive spot that makes Rachel's pulse pound in her ears, and she gasps, "There. Just like that. Don't you dare stop what you're doing, Jessi St. James."

jessi

Jessi smirks and if they had a bit more time she’d tease Rachel a little more, but she wants to get off too and besides: she wants to hear Rachel Mutter her name when she comes and possibly soon please. “What would you do if I ever left a hickey?” She muses as she keeps moving her hand again the other woman, picking up the pace slightly while her lips attach themselves to Rachel’s neck again.

rachel

"You wouldn't dare," Rachel starts, but then Jessi reattaches her lips to her neck. She's not sure if it's simply more teasing, or if Jessi is pushing and testing their set boundaries. Between each thrust of Jessi's hand that pushes her closer to the edge, and the sensitivity of her neck, it's all Rachel can do to choke out her next words. "If you do that, I swear I will walk right out of this stall and leave you without an ounce of relief."

jessi

She wouldn´t leave a hickey, not now anyways. Maybe if they weren´t about to walk back out there to claim their prize ( because Jessi simply knows they´ll win ), because she enjoys the thought of leaving a mark on the one and only Rachel Berry more than she lets on. For now she focuses on working her fingers into the Brunette though, lips curved into a smile. “Oh, so you´d be mean,” She teases as she moves her lips down to Rachel´s collarbone and presses her fingers in a little deeper, thumb still rubbing against the other woman´s clit. “Good thing I´m being nice and not naughty today…because I enjoy getting off WITH you more than I do alone…”

rachel

"I'm not me--" Rachel attempts to protest, but Jessi pressing deeper within her steals her words as she's forced to suck in a quick gasp of air. Rachel forgets all about her need to refute Jessi's comments, her focus now singularly on the spot Jessi's fingers nudge with each stroke. Colors begin to burst behind her now-closed eyes, and Rachel knows she's but a few well placed touches away from winning a different kind of prize. And since Jessi talents don't stop on stage, it's only a few more moments before Rachel's burying her face in Jessi's neck, muffling the soft cry of the girl's name.

jessi

The teasing is nice, and Jessi enjoys it to no end, but there´s nothing that beats the fact that she can make Rachel Berry fall apart. She knows Rachel probably feels the same way when Jessi´s a whimpering mess against her and that brings her some comfort. They´re both competitive, ambitious and very proud, but most of that disappears when they´re together. Though Jessi does take pride in what she can do with her fingers, and her mouth for that matter. She smiles then, keeping up the motions with her hands as he hold Rachel against the door and carries her through the orgasm, a shiver running down her spine at her own name falling from the other´s lips.

rachel

Rachel's thankful for the extra weight of Jessi's body, the press against her own that keeps her upright in the stall as she momentarily basks in the afterglow and uses Jessi's close proximity to tip her chin and chase her lips. Rachel deepens the kiss immediately, the embers of the fire still within her fueling her desire as she regains her footing and presses into Jessi.

jessi

Jessi supports Rachel´s weight, lips curving into a smile before her breath is taken away by the other woman´s kiss. She enjoys the kiss, letting herself get lost in it for a moment. They still have time before they´ll be announced as the winners and Jessi is going to enjoy every minute she gets to spend in here with Rachel. Surely, it´s not the most glamorous place to be, but it´s…exciting, it always has been, and it feels like it´s taken straight from a tv show and Jessi can´t deny the appeal of that.

rachel

With newfound strength and now leverage on her side, Rachel continues to surge forward and eventually flips their positions. There's a bit of a wicked, wolfish grin on her face when she has Jessi's back pressed against the stall door. She's essentially at her mercy now, and oh how Rachel wishes time was on her side as she'd like to return Jessi's previous teasing, but hearing the audience outside the door clap once again, Rachel knows that any extra time they do have is rapidly waning. 

"You're lucky we're running short on time," Rachel begins, her lips ghosting along the ridge of Jessi's ear before her teeth capture the lobe in a gentle tug. Released with an audible pop, Rachel presses a kiss to the hollow behind her ear and then continues, "Because otherwise I'd plan to tease you until you were a shaking mess."

jessi

Jessi lets Rachel flip their positions, a grin on her face as she´s pressed up against the door. She likes this maybe a bit more than she´ll let on, but since no one´s ever going to know it doesn´t really matter. She doesn´t miss the wicked grin on Rachel´s face either and she feels a spark ignite between them once again. It´s always there, really, she can feel it when they argue or sing or whenever their personalities clash and sometimes it ignites a fire between them, like right now. “Mhm…what a pity.” She comments, though the grin on her face stays in its place, a small moan escaping her lips as she feels Rachel´s lips against her ear. “Maybe…next time?” Jessi then adds, hands coming to sneak around Rachel´s waist and up her back, fingers fisting into the fabric of the dress.

rachel

Next time? "We'll see." Rachel's grin remains, because while time might not be on her side, that doesn't mean she can't tease with words. And her mouth. Her lips follow the line of Jessi's jaw, tongue and teeth gently marking the path as she goes. One hand twists into the skirt of the Jessi's dress, freeing the fabric from the other path Rachel's tracing, the one along the inside of Jessi's thigh before pressing against the woman's damp underwear. It does something to Rachel to know she has this affect on Jessi, and she wastes no time brushing aside the fabric and slipping her fingers through wet folds.

jessi

“Sure.” Jessi laughs, a little breathless now that she can feel Rachel´s hand tracing up her thigh. She knows it´s coming, and the anticipation is almost as good as the actual feeling of the other woman´s fingers between her legs. Jessi moans and turns her head, pressing kisses to whatever part of Rachel´s face she can reach while her legs move apart a little more, giving the other woman more space. “Fuck…” She whispers, hands fisting deeper into the material of Rachel´s dress and Jessi briefly thinks that they need to smooth that out before going back on stage, but then that thought flies out the window and she focuses on Rachel again, specifically on her lips and hands.

rachel

Rachel's kiss against Jessi's neck transforms to a smile. She smirks against soft skin because Jessi, a woman of many words and precise diction is reduced to a single curse, an expletive at her touch. Oh, how Rachel enjoys that control, even if it's fleeting. Easing two fingers into Jessi, Rachel quickly finds a rhythm they can settle into. It's always easy, just like it was out on the stage. Musicality, of course, helps, but so does their chemistry.

jessi

It´s what Jessi likes about this so much, there´s no awkward fumbling or not knowing where to put hands or lips. They know each other inside out when it comes to this and it´s so easy to fall into a rhythm they can both enjoy. She moans again, bucking her hips up against Rachel´s hand, head falling back against the door. She can forget that it´s not the most glamorous spot to be doing this, and that they could probably be somewhere else having sex, like a bed for example, because what matters is the way Rachel makes her feel. “Yeah…like that…” She urges the other woman on, feeling the heat pooling in her stomach as she lifts her hands to Rachel´s face, pulling her up for a kiss.

rachel

Rachel (often literally) marches to the beat of her own drum, but she'll take Jessi's direction in this instance. If what she's doing is working for Jessi, Rachel's not about to change a thing. Not the pace of her hand's thrusts or the angle even as Jessi pulls her in for a kiss. And that connection is telling, too, another indicator besides the fluttering of Jessi's walls, as each stroke of Rachel's fingers drives her closer to the edge.

jessi

They do keep their rivalry up Heere, in between the walls of the bathroom, but it’s a different kind of rivalry, softer and more teasing. Jessi doesn’t mind, not when Rachel makes her shiver like that, her moans swallowed by the other woman’s mouth. „Fuck...yes...“ she whispers, the kiss becoming more forceful as she pushes back against Rachel, stars beginning to explode behind her closed eyelids as she tumbles over the edge.

rachel

Rachel assists Jessi with riding the wave of her pleasure, her fingers gently pumping until she's sure each tiny spasm, each after shock of the other woman's orgasm is complete. Still close and pressed up against Jessi, Rachel's mouth finds her ear once more. "We're very good at this whole duet thing, J," she teases and places a parting kiss to Jessi's cheek. Then, sure that she can stand on her own, Rachel takes a step back and helps to smooth out the wrinkles in Jessi's dress before turning her attention to her own outfit.

jessi

Jessi lets out a small laugh at the other woman´s words, nodding slowly once she´s come back to herself. "Mhm…our harmonies are hard to beat.” She then replied, glad to be able to stand on her own again. She has to admit that she misses Rachel being pressed up against her and chasing the other´s lips already, but puts it to the after glow. “And now we´re going to get a prize for it,” She adds with a grin as she smooths the rest of her dress down and picks up her bag, pulling out some make up wipes, handing them to Rachel. “You´ve got a bit…of lipstick on your neck,” Jessi smirks.

rachel

Of course she does. Of course Jessi left a mark in her own way. With the wipe in hand, Rachel reaches around Jessi to flip the lock on the stall. She squeezes past Jessi and then settles in front of a sink and mirror, eyeing the color blotched along her neck and smeared at the corners of her lips. Carefully Rachel dabs and blots, removing any trace of the dalliance shared.

jessi

Jessi smiles to herself as she lets Rachel pass, fixing the rest of her dress before slipping out of the bathroom stall herself. She moves up behind Rachel, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, grin still on her face, before settling in next to her to check her own reflection in the mirror, fixing her hair. „So What are you going to do with the rest of this oh so wonderful night?“

rachel

Rachel's not sure if she's quite able to conceal the shiver that tingles along her spine at Jessi's brief closeness and parting kiss to her neck, but she does her best to look unaffected as she moves from checking her face to primping her hair and making sure each strand is curled and tucked in a way that doesn't scream bathroom stall quickie. Humming, Rachel considers her answer. She could swing by her mom's, find out what she's slated to bring for tomorrow's dinner, but even that would be a short visit. "I'll probably stick around here for one more drink," or maybe she'll take a pastry to go. "And then head back to Brooklyn." A beat. "You? Big plans tonight, Miss St. James?"

jessi

Jessi smiles still, because she’s well aware of the effect she has on Rachel, mainly because she would have reacted the exact same was had the roles been reversed. She doesn’t say anything about it though, because she’s still feeling the afterglow a little and there has been enough teasing for tonight. She finishes fixing her hair and make up before leaning against the sink, looking over at Rachel. „Not really, no.“ She then replies.  „I’ll probably stick around for a drink too and to bask in the afterglow of our victory and then head home, maybe going to watch a classic to fall asleep too. I haven’t watched a good Barbra movie in a while,“

rachel

"Barbra?" Rachel grins into the mirror, catching Jessi's eyes in the reflection. "Is this your attempt at trying to entice me to come home with you for an encore?"

jessi

Jessi‘s lips curve into a smirk as Rachel catches her eyes in the mirror. „Maybe,“ she replies. „Or maybe I just really enjoy watching Barbra Streisand movies late at night,“

rachel

"Well if you were to invite me," Rachel returns Jessi's smirk, "it actually wouldn't be a movie and chill situation at all. Barbra is serious business in our family." They celebrate Barbra Day after all. "And I promise I do not get distracted when she's gracing a screen or stage with her presence." Another round of applause sounds from the other side of the door, and Rachel perks up. "I think that was perhaps the last performance on the list."

jessi

Jessi let out a laugh, „Oh trust me, I’m very aware of that.“ She then replied. „How about Audrey and chill then?“ She let her make up wipes slide back into her bag, zipping it up before pushing the strap over over shoulder. The applause interrupted their conversation and Jessi nodded, giving Rachel a smile. „Seems like it. And once again we’re right on time,“ she adds before pushing the  door open, waiting for Rachel to come along.

rachel

Pausing just inside the door, Rachel catches Jessi's eyes and then nods. "Audrey and chill. It'll be a nice way to celebrate our deserved win."

jessi

„Good,“ Jessi replies with a nod, secretly glad that this wasn’t the end tonight. Usually they keep their endeavors confined to the bathroom, but she’s a little tipsy and enjoys Rachel’s company and skills way too much to just let it end here. At least for tonight. „Shall we then, Miss Berry?“ she asks, smirking as she gestures for Rachel to return to the stage so they could claim their price and eventually head to Jessi‘s place.

rachel

"Thank you, Miss St. James," Rachel winks as she passes by Jessi and heads back toward the bar knowing that this won't be the end of their dueting or winning for the night.

[siverwrites]

           send me a ship and I'll tell you...

I am 100% self-indulging and want to ramble about my trio hush.

who is more likely to hurt the other? Physically: None unless there’s an accident or Alma slaps one of them for being an idiot.

Emotionally: Jowd. Not EXACTLY sensitive.

Cabanela: He knows Cabanela best past shiny shields of flamboyance. If he wanted to, to push him away or something he’d know how to get to him. (And I kind of wish I’d kept this in mind when writing Cabanela questioning him which was causing me a lot of trouble anyway...)

Also hurt him by virtue of shutting him out.

Only under specific set of circumstances for this to happen buuut there we go.

Alma: Less likely to happen with Alma though avoidance and shying away when clearly hurting can hurt. So goddamnit Jowd, you’re lucky they love you.

who is emotionally stronger? OH BOY! Emotions!

Alma. Alma the stabilizing force or attempts to be - it’s a hell of a job - and the one most likely to try to deal with things earlier rather than later. Generally healthier about handling things. 

Cabanela and Jowd on the other hand... both repressed balls of joy! Still, Cabanela comes second. We know how well Jowd handles things. Cabanela is more likely to eventually get things out - taking longer than he should if it’s severe then we get to safe mode Cabanela and etc - and will get there with less prodding than Jowd - and then bounce back. In general he bounces back more easily.

Jowd just... Jowds on. Deal with things in a healthy manner??

I like to imagine in a post-game scenario in which time doesn’t reset that Jowd would be awkward and avoidant and in general completely at a loss as to how to actually handle things. And having to process that Cabanela and Lynne were working on his behalf and still care about him and error error. Okay that all applies in canon ending as well, though a difference in that Cabanela knows everything too... But for Cabanela below:

Once things normalized after recovery and getting Jowd’s life back in order Cabanela would completely break down under the weight of everything he repressed for five years to focus on Jowd. One sobbing Cabanela all over Jowd or on his floor for Jowd to awkwardly hug and not know what to do with beyond that (the hug’s enough). But then he’d be okay once he got that all out. And getting things out is the healthy thing to do, Jowd.

Cabanela is better at doing what needs to be done despite emotions possibly getting in the way although you could argue he’s fueled by anyway - with Jowd being his motivator. So he’s got control and will display (when he thinks he can). Except then it circles back around to just pushing aside and repressing sooo back to unhealthy.

Under more normal circumstances I imagine Cabanela being better at handling things anyway though that’s not saying much.

But Alma wins hands down in any sense.

who is physically stronger? Jowd for sure. And I like to imagine he’s probably had to overpower Cabanela a few times to keep him from doing something he shouldn’t.

who is more likely to break a bone? Cabanela, oh he of flinging himself into everything. And he has had broken bones before so... yay canon?

who knows best what to say to upset the other? I kind of want to say all three; they all know each other well enough that they’d know how to twist the knife. Jowd is most likely do so depending on the situation though. Talked about this already in first question. Not really Cabanela’s style and while Alma may have ideas on how to wrench the boxes open she’s not going to usually want to upset them, though things could slip in a really heated argument but she’d feel bad and make it up to them.  who is most likely to apologise first after an argument? Probably whoever started it. Alma followed by Cabanela who might be more rapid about it than a certain other someone to get the whole thing out of the way and move on. Any apology from either Cabanela or Jowd doesn’t tend to look like a standard apology but they understand each other. who treats who’s wounds more often? Exasperated Jowd by virtue of Cabanela getting banged up more often. Alma wouldn’t mind doing so but Jowd has more first aid knowledge and experience.

who is in constant need of comfort? Jooowd? But good luck ever getting an admission of that. Go by the signs and do the comforting anyway. More relevant to post game. who gets more jealous? Uhhhh. None feel like the jealous type. Closest you might get is OT3 situation of Cabanela being envious of Jowd and Alma but quietly stepping aside. Until they yank him in you silly Cabs you

who’s most likely to walk out on the other? I mean. Jowd walked out on everyone depending on meaning here. But aside from THAT situation I don’t know.

If we just want to go the route of a bad fight but no permanent leaving Jowd shuts down. Alma bounces off his walls then will stay but go quiet as well. Cabanela might leave temporarily in a furious huff to go settle before going back especially if Jowd is being a stubborn wall of getting nowhere. Alma prefers to deal with things as quickly as possible.

Alma and Cabanela fights are especially rare and more loudly explosive but more quickly resolved and neither are likely to leave.

who will propose? Alma proposed to Jowd. Jowd had plans to, but Alma beat him to it.

Cabanela gets all don’t intrude, step aside, so Alma and Jowd joint propose and I may have written that before cough.

who has the most difficult parents? Gotta wonder about who spawns a Cabanela. But I have thought of Alma coming from a fairly wealthy family and a family member not entirely approving of marrying some detective.

who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? Alma and Cabanela

who comes up for the other all the time? ?? Still don’t know what this means.

who hogs the blankets? Cabanela and Alma rival each other but Cabanela is a bed hog. Spraaawl. Gotta put those legs somewhere. Despite Jowd being like 2 Cabanelas wide. Jowd can only suffer. who gets more sad? Jowd if post-game but attempts with varying success to not show it. Alma gets the most obviously sad. It’s very hard to bring Cabanela down

who is better at cheering the other up? Alma is best at actually getting some conversation going and she will care for and possibly has some bad humour of her own to slip in if the situation warrants it. She will also supply the comfort drinks, hugs, quiet time whatever is needed.

Jowd is good at calming Cabanela down. Between those two in particular not sure. I kind of want to say Jowd is better at cheering him up than Cabanela is at Jowd, but only because Cabanela would be easier to pull out of the dumps genuinely so. Success with Jowd sometimes looks to happen but would really just be Jowd being Jowd - depending on how on serious things are. Cabanela’s sheer optimism meets the wall of pessimism and we get unstoppable force meeting immovable object. ( Honestly I feel like that phrase sums them up.)

Jowd wins second only by being far more difficult to deal with than Cabanela.

On the other hand Jowd’s own um... comments would work against him but Cabanela and Alma know he’s trying and depending on what’s said may be amused.

Alma’s pretty good with both, Cabanela being easier. Jowd is good at Cabanela. Both struggle with Jowd because he’s impossible.

who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes? Cabanela wonders how he got both of them.

who is more streetwise? Cabanela and Jowd

who is more wise? Alma followed by Jooowd...? Unless we’re getting into certain situations of shove self in jail and chase everyone off.

who’s the shyest? Jowd. Alma’s pretty outgoing and friendly. Does Cabanela know the meaning of shy?

who boasts about the other more? Cabanela. Jowd and Alma know Cabanela most definitely does not need an ego boost. Not that Jowd does, but Cabanela can’t help it. Alma quietly prides in them.

who sits on who’s lap? Alma sits on Jowd. Cabanela sits on Jowd. Jowds are comfy.

Alma and Cabanela lean all over each other in a tangle of too many long limbs.

[breakfastatmilliways]

I Found the Cure to Growing Older 1/?

Summary: Dan died. Phil thought that might perhaps be the worst of his problems - after all, what could be worse than losing your best friend?

Turns out, it was the zombie apocalypse.

When that’s all said and done, as much as an apocalypse can be said and done, he gets a phone call.  Also posted on AO3.

Author’s Note: Because I really needed a second multi-chapter fic going while I’m already writing one, eh?

This one is an AU based on the fantastically awesome television show “In the Flesh”. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. Adorable cured zombies (A.K.A. Partially Deceased Syndrome Sufferers), serious feels, and well rounded LGBT characters? Yas. IT HAS IT ALL. Like seriously, if you have not seen this show, go watch the trailer and immediately become convinced to watch both seasons. I will wait here....

Did you watch it? Okay, good. Anyhoo, if you have seen it and are familiar with the canon, you’ll obviously notice that I’m making some changes, mainly in the timeline. The bulk of it will be taking place in 2021, with the backstory taking place around current day. I do otherwise intend to try to keep this shit accurate to the universe, though.

So yeah, prepare your butts for a good old fashioned zambie angst and fluff pie.

Oh, and credit to my good buddy @bad-twin for reading it over and providing a fabulous place to bounce ideas around.

28 January, 2021

“Hi guys! Can you see me?” Phil asked the old webcam on his laptop, giving a little wave at it as he did so. He couldn’t help feeling a little bit nervous- this would be his first live show in nearly four years. It occurred to him that it was a bit silly to be anxious about something as innocuous as talking to some fans on webcam, when he’d literally had to bash a rabid zombie’s head in with a bit of piping to save his own skin in the not too distant past. Then again, his mental processes had always been a little bit out of the norm.

The messages started coming in after a few seconds, and his face split into a grin at the general excitement he was seeing. The chat moved a lot slower than it would have once, but that was to be expected. Plenty of people out there didn’t even have an internet connection back yet, and he was sure that quite a few of his old fans had forgotten him. Something about living through the apocalypse tended to shift a person’s priorities, and his fans were no exception.

“Great! Looks like we’re live then. How are you guys? It’s been ages!” He scanned the chat as he spoke, and laughed slightly. “Katie123 says ‘I’ve missed you Phil!’, that’s so sweet! I’ve missed all of you too. It feels great to be back. I’ve spent almost the last year out of London, staying with the family. They got hit a lot harder up there than we were here, it’s taken a lot of work to rebuild. I’ve missed the flat though, it’s really great to be home.”

A glance at the chat showed that a lot of people were clamoring for a look around, and he obliged, picking up his laptop and doing a quick 180 of the sitting room to show it off before setting it back down in front of him. “Looks the same as ever, doesn’t it? You’d almost think the world didn’t nearly end.”

A few people in the chat were having a small freak out, apparently having missed the sight of the sofa crease, and Phil couldn’t help a small pang at the phrase. It was a fairly unwanted reminder that said sofa crease was empty. He pushed the thought aside, because now wasn’t the time to get down in the dumps, and settled on another question that managed to make him laugh.

“‘Did any of your houseplants survive?’, bad-twin wants to know. Well, have I got a surprise for you, bad-twin.” He hopped up from his spot to cross the room, coming back with a pot in his hands which contained a rather unhealthy looking, but surprisingly living, cactus. “Susan 7 here managed to survive the water shortages, via her cactus-y resilience. She’s looking a little worse for wear now, but I’ll have her fixed up soon enough.”

“Have I seen anyone from the old days recently? ‘Kringlemanger24’ is asking.” He paused, quirking a brow. “What’s a kringlemanger? Do I want to know?” When the chat erupted into a series of caps lock ‘NO!’s, he decided that he would take that advice. “Okay, just going to forget about that entirely then. As for the question, yeah, I have. I saw PJ the other day after I got back to London, and I’ve got plans for Louise to come for a short stay with Darcy in a few weeks. I heard now that the borders are open again, Tyler’s going to try to get across the pond for a while, so we’ll probably have a little meet up of everyone who’s still around. We might even be able to get a few collabs in.”

“MyRotterRomanceattheDisco wants to know how I feel about the reintegration initiative. I think it’s great, really. I understand why some people are against it, the PDS sufferers didn’t exactly make life easy for any of us, but then you’ve got to think, they’re still people. They were our friends and neighbours once, and they didn’t know what they were doing. Some kids are going to have their dads back. You might get a sibling or a mum back. It’s… I mean, it’s a much more positive ending to the war than you’d expect, don’t you think?” The chat seemed to be mostly in agreement with his opinion, despite a few voices of dissent, and he smiled.

That initial feeling of anxiety had swiftly been replaced by warm fuzzy feelings. Phil hadn’t realized quite how much he had missed his fans. They were a mad bunch, but they were a good bunch. Well, most of them. As the live show continued, the occasional troll did show up. The worst of them were the ones that popped in just to comment things like ‘Where’s Dan?! LOL’, and while it stung a little, it was heartening to see the way the rest of the chat banded against the trolls in his defense.

Things were still going well enough, when Phil’s phone went off. He’d been in the midst of answering CuteRandomLlamasxo’s question about his birthday plans when it vibrated on the sofa next to him, and he paused in explaining that Martyn would be coming to visit him in order to pick it up and take a look. “Hang on a second guys, I need to see who-”

He faltered, and immediately went quiet. The chat was filled with expressions of concern, and a few people making jokes about how they hadn’t thought it was possible for him to go paler, but he didn’t even notice. It was as if everything in the room had blurred around him, except for the screen on the phone in front of him. Not even bothering to excuse himself, he simply shut the laptop, ending the stream instantly, and with shaking hands, accepted the call.

“...Mrs. Howell?” Phil’s voice came out as an undignified croak, and he cleared his throat before trying again. “Er… Hello?”

For a long moment, he thought that maybe she had just dialled his number by mistake. He couldn’t hear anything on the other end of the line, and he was just about to end the call when she finally spoke up. “Phil! Hello, dear. How have you been?” Dan’s mother sounded extremely awkward, and Phil couldn’t blame her for that. They hadn’t spoken since the funeral, and he wasn’t doing much better in terms of awkwardness.

“As well as can be, these days. How- how are you? How’s the family?”

Another silence stretched out, and Phil reached up to scratch at the back of his head. This was beyond uncomfortable, and he rather hoped that she would get to the point soon, because he really wanted to hang up.

“Good, good. Well, you see that’s… actually why I’ve called. I have, well, news.”

“Is everything alright? No one’s been hurt, or anything?” Phil’s concern was genuine, even if he still wanted to be doing just about anything other than having this conversation. Regardless of how long it had been since they had spoken, Dan’s family would never really leave his heart, and he certainly cared for their well being.

“Everyone’s just fine, no, no one’s hurt. It’s the opposite, actually.” For the first time since the call had started, Phil noticed that she was audibly crying, and suddenly his stomach began to twist with anticipation about what she was about to say. “It’s Dan. He’s come home.”

***

9 February, 2017

“Phil, it’s been over a week. The birthday milking has to stop.” Dan was saying from his place on the sofa, settled comfortably in his crease. His laptop was balanced on his knees, and he was pointedly ignoring the puppy dog eyes that Phil was sending his way.

“What do you expect us to have for breakfast tomorrow, Dan? Do you expect me to go hungry? So soon after my birthday? We don’t even have cereal.” Phil was expecting the pillow that Dan threw at his head in response, but he still failed to react quickly enough to prevent it smashing straight into his face. “Ow.”

“We don’t have cereal because you ate yours and mine. You get off your ass and go to Tesco’s. I’m the one who’s wounded.”

“You fell down a week ago. You’re fine. You’re at least fine enough to go to buy cereal and pancake mix.”

“This madness needs to end. You can’t try to negotiate birthday favors for the rest of the year. A week is where I draw the line, Philly. If you’re so worried about our cupboards, you can restock them.”

Phil simply stared at him, a pout on his face that he knew probably looked utterly ridiculous, but it seemed to do the trick. When Dan finally glanced up from his laptop screen, he cracked up, shaking his head.

“Okay, no. You’re not going to win me over just by making yourself look like a complete idiot. But, I’m willing to Rock Paper Scissors you for it.”

It was a bit silly that two grown men settled almost every dispute that life handed to them with a children’s game, but it had worked for them all these years, so Phil was more than willing to agree to those terms. Besides, he had rather good luck when it came to predicting Dan’s moves.

Five minutes later, he watched with smug satisfaction as his friend grumbled to himself whilst puttering around the flat, collecting the necessities for a trip into the horrid, cold wilderness that made up the journey to Tesco’s. Dan jammed a hat onto his head, then turned to stare at Phil with a look of pure loathing. Phil just grinned up at him, tongue poking out between his teeth.

“I hate you.” Dan commented, although the words lacked any real venom. “This is literally the last time I’m ever letting you pull the ‘All or Nothing’ card.”

“I hate you too.” Phil replied affectionately, before settling back against the sofa to carry on with his perusal of twitter. “Don’t forget the Crunchy Nut.”

Dan rolled his eyes and headed on his way, calling back at Phil as he headed to the stairs.

“Yeah, I’ll remember it, and I’ll remember to hide it when I get back so I’ll actually have a bowl of it for once, you living hoover.” He punctuated this statement by slamming the door behind him.

This would prove to be the last time Phil saw Dan alive.

***

28 January, 2021

Phil was glad that he had already been sitting down when he’d answered the phone, because he was pretty sure his legs wouldn’t have held him up for long after that particular bombshell.

It wasn’t as though it was impossible. Everyone that rose from the dead in November of 2017 had died during that year, although Phil had mostly heard of it happening to those that died nearer to the Rising. Dan had died right at the beginning of the year, so technically he made the cut. It wasn’t a possibility that had ever crossed Phil’s mind, though.

He’d said his goodbyes years ago. He’d mourned. He’d even started learning to be happy again when the Rising had come along and turned the entire world upside down. Suddenly, his own grief hadn’t seemed so important anymore. It was still there, and it still hurt, but helping to rebuild an entire society after a horrible event nearly tore it apart really put things in perspective.

He didn’t even know how to cope with this.

“...Phil, are you alright?” Dan’s mum’s voice finally managed to through to his consciousness, and he snapped to attention. He must have been silent for several minutes.

“Yeah, thanks, I just… That’s a lot to take in.” He excused lamely, pushing his glasses up to rub at his eyes and taking a deep breath. His hand was wet when he pulled it away again. He was crying, apparently. That was interesting. “How, erm… what’s he like?”

“He’s Dan.” She replied, and judging from her voice, she was probably still crying too. “Sarcastic as ever. He keeps making jokes about being dead inside at uncomfortable moments.” She was quiet, yet another length of silence stretched out, before she spoke again, in a quiet voice. “He misses you. He won’t say it, but… this isn’t his home anymore. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know you have a whole life you must be trying to get back to, but-”

“I’ll make sure his room’s set up.” Phil found himself responding before he even consciously made the decision. “I never packed anything away, really, but I’m sure most of his things have gathered a lot of dust, and I don’t know what state the sheets are in, so I might have to pop round to the shop and see if I can find some replacements.”

“Thank you.” The relief was palpable in her voice, and she even gave a shaky laugh. “He would have been so miserable, staying here. You have no idea how pleased he’ll be when I’ve told him.”

Phil didn’t say as much, but he rather thought that he knew exactly how pleased Dan would be, if the enormous grin that had somehow crossed his own face was any indication.