#everything that happened with Naomi when she didn’t speak to the press

[jensonsbuttons]

hmmm okay but maybe we shouldn’t put press duties first if you’re an athlete struggling from any sort of health issues (mental or physical) and make sure that we start to prioritize athletes overall health (again mental or physical)

#idk man again if sports have taught me anything it’s that we need to respect athletes health better #everything that happened with Naomi when she didn’t speak to the press #every single bit of backlash that Simone got this past week (which is…don’t even get me started) #now Lewis today after the race #the man did not look well on the podium and we have a break coming up #personally i think he should’ve been allowed to skip any press events #and they can have a statement put out by Merc or someone from Lewis’ team later #I’m glad he was able to say he was okay himself but idk personally I just think they should prioritize health more #idk also Novak withdrew from the tennis tourney as well for physical reasons and like #idk that should be fine but I’ve still seen little bits of backlash of oh it’s only cause you didn’t do this or that #like literally please just let athletes prioritize health that’s the bottom line #delete later #maybe idk this isn’t that controversial I just don’t want to get anybody started #and before anyone says oh you have a duty to your team though you don’t get it #I do get it I’ve played sports all my life all the way through college I played through injuries #and looking back on it? that was a stupid decision on my chance #I should’ve been able to prioritize my health and well being over my supposed duty to the team #if they’re really my team and teammates they’ll understand why I’m sitting out

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

after the credits

to thirteen years of cas and of the greatest love story ever told...an empty rescue fic for y’all :) 2.3k,  read on ao3 here

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

After a while, Castiel gets tired of watching. He’s practically dreaming all the time, but he’s so tired.

Eternal sleep is not restful.

He can’t leave the Empty, but he manages to mold it, with his mind, into a theater. He went to one once, with Dean, and there are probably nicer theaters, like those for plays and operas, but this movie theater is right for him. If he concentrates, he can almost smell burnt, buttery popcorn and spilled soda and old carpet, and Dean right next to him, aftershave and car oil and whiskey.

Almost.

The scenes unfold in a memorable order, because they’re Cas’s own memories. At first, he tried to jump in, alter the scene, but he’s powerless. So, like clockwork, he watches. He’s saving Dean in hell. He’s being stabbed in the chest by the same man he raised. He’s asking Dean to get answers from Alastair and then almost getting the grace pressed out of him. He’s slamming his palm onto a bloody sigil. He’s--

Everything, all of his twelve years on earth, pass by, over and over and over again.

Right now, it’s an early scene, not far into the cycle. It’s not one of his favorites, because he can see the expression on his face, remembers exactly how he felt. Remembers that he he was feeling at all.

“That was a pretty awkward kiss, huh?”

Cas turns sharply at the sound of Dean’s voice. Of course, Dean does talk in this scene, before he kisses Anna. But this Dean is sitting next to him, frowning at the screen.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Cas says.

“I know.”

Chances are this is just the Empty trying to mess with him. Last week a random trashcan showed up in his theater. Or maybe it was last year, or a millenia ago, or five minutes from now. Time is weird.

They keep watching in silence. On the screen, in the memory, Cas’s head jerks away from the sight of Dean and Anna kissing. The scene flips then, to a park at night, Anna right in front of Cas, no Dean in sight.

“For the first time, I feel...” Memory-Cas says.

“It gets worse,” Anna warns.

“So your first feeling….” Dean starts.

“It was something.” Cas can’t look at him. The scene on-screen changes.

Dean, to his merit, doesn’t press.

The memories progress through the year they spent trying to stop the apocalypse, the year that ended with Sam diving into the pit and Dean going off to Lisa’s. Then through Cas starting to work with Crowley, a conversation that happened right behind Dean without his knowledge.

On-screen, Cas is watching Dean rake leaves. The expression on his face is nearly mournful. After a moment, Crowley steps into view.

“Ah, Castiel. Angel of Thursday. Just not your day, is it?” Crowley says.

“What are you doing here?” Memory-Cas asks.

“I want you to help me help ourselves.”

“Speak plain.”

Crowley smirks. “I want to discuss a simple business transaction. That’s all.”

“You want to make a deal? With me? I’m an Angel, you ass. ”

The scene flips again.

“Is there a way to pause this?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “It just does this, on a loop. I can’t sleep. The Empty won’t let me.” He puts a hand on the armrest between them. “I forced the theater up, to make it better.”

“It looks a lot like that theater we went to once.”

“I know.” Cas stares at Dean for a moment, looks away.

Many of these scenes are things Dean knows of. Cas works with Crowley, gets locked in a ring of fire, feels his chest seize up as Dean looks back for a moment. Watches the Leviathans lead him to a lake. They meet again on porch steps, Cas unable to remember who he is but still able to figure out that Dean is important. Cas gets his memories back, takes on Sam’s hell trauma. They go to Purgatory, Cas stays behind. It’s like clockwork.

Until.

“I don’t remember that,” Dean says slowly, watching himself die on the screen. “You never--you’ve never killed me.”

“Yes and no.” Cas knows what’s coming next--he’s going to kill Dean thousands of times. Each one is the same, with Cas in tears as these copies, mock-ups of Dean struggle, beg and plead, tell him not to. Each time, Naomi makes him do it again.

Until, finally, he doesn’t hesitate.

And she says he’s ready.

As they watch that scene in the crypt unfold, with the real Dean at Cas’s mercy, Dean leans forward, putting his elbows on his thighs and propping his chin in his hands. “You lied.”

“Hm?”

“You said you didn’t know what broke the connection.” Dean twists his head to look at Cas. “But you did.”

“I did,” Cas assents.

They watch Cas ride cross-country on a bus, pulling out his phone and almost calling Dean over and over again.

“Is there a way that we can see some of my memories?” Dean asks.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”.

Dean shrugs. “Well, I am here, and you figured out how to make a friggin movie theater, so I think I can do it.”

The image on the screen shudders, coalesces, breaks into a million pieces and then reforms. Dean is standing on the edge of a lake, picking up Cas’s coat, still covered in Leviathan goo. “You dumb son of a bitch,” Memory-Dean mutters, wrapping up the coat in his arms.

The scene flickers again--the coat in those same hands, moving from car to car to car, and then being passed to Cas. “I always knew you’d come back ,” Memory-Dean says. It’s a soft scene, almost, but then it flips to Dean seizing a monster’s collar in purgatory. He’s covered in blood and grime as he shoves the monster up against a tree, practically growling, “Where’s the angel?”

Even after the monster answers, Dean guts him.

It’s a cycle. The memory blurs through sleepless nights, through Dean stepping into streams to pray, prayers Cas knows well. It pushes past Cas letting go of Dean’s arm in the portal, and here’s something else new: Dean sees Cas on the side of the road, sees him outside the window while it pours down rain, sitting bolt upright at the phantom sight of Cas’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cas finally asks. This must really be Dean, after all. The Empty wouldn’t know these things, wouldn’t be able to dream them up. They’re too good, too honest.

“To bring you home.” Dean kicks the back of the seat in front of him, leans back in his own chair.

“I can’t go home.”

“You should.” The scene on screen rapidly changes--it’s Dean as he looks now, carrying a little boy on his back. The little boy is blonde, round-faced, holding onto Dean’s neck for dear life, laughing as Dean swings around.

“Is that--” No, it can’t be.

“Yep. He’s four, you know.” Dean clears his throat. “He misses you.”

“I wish I could have gotten to say good-bye.” Cas trails off.

“Come home. Then you never have to say it.”

Cas shakes his head. On the screen, Dean is reading to Jack, Jack following the words with a chubby finger. “It would be...awkward.”

“How?” Dean raises an eyebrow. “We’re family, dude. Jack misses you, Sam misses you, and Eileen’s been hanging around, and me…” Dean clamps his mouth shut.

That’s why.

“Things aren’t going to be the same. Not after…” Cas takes a deep breath. “What I said. We won’t be able to ignore it.”

“Then we won’t.”

“Dean--”

“You don’t know?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “You don’t know. Okay. I, uh…” The screen turns black.

“You what?” Cas is almost afraid to know.

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

The blackness unfurls into Billie’s library, Dean standing in front of her. They’re clearly in the middle of a conversation.

“What do you want me to say?” Memory-Dean asks. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. ”

“Don’t you?” Billie replies.

“I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.”

“Dean--” Cas starts, but Dean just looks at the floor, like he’s trying to avoid this.

“You really believe that,” Billie says. “You wanna die.”

“When was this?” Cas asks, speaking over the rest of Billie’s statement.

“It was...right before we, uh, got the call from you. That you were back.” Dean leans his head all the way up, looks at what would be the movie theater’s ceiling, if it wasn’t in the void. “I had a bad time. I…I would show it to you. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I held it together enough to wrap your body and burn it…”

“Hunter’s funeral.”

“Only kind I know how to do.” Dean swallows, audibly. “I’m doing what I can now. Having Jack to take care of, and Eileen around, too, helps. But it’s…” He finally looks at Cas again. “Please let me take you home. Please come home with me.”

Cas would do anything for Dean Winchester. He has done anything for him before. So he will grant him this, at least the illusion, because Cas knows he can’t leave the Empty. He’s trapped here for eternity.

He takes Dean’s hand.

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

There is a little boy crawling on him.

“Daddy,” the boy says, poking his face, “I know you’re awake.”

“Jack,” Dean says, from somewhere up above, “Cas is still sleeping.”

Cas blinks rapidly. “‘M not.”

“Shouldn’t’ve said that.” Dean releases Jack, and Jack fully clambers onto Cas.

“I missed you,” Jack says.

“I missed you too.” Cas holds onto him, tight. He’s so small, like he’s supposed to be. A kid. Safe.

Cas thinks he might be in Dean’s bed.

The bunker, he discovers, looks much the same. He was gone for four months, in which time Dean and Sam took care of Chuck, Jack became a kid, and Eileen became a permanent fixture. When Dean and Sam aren’t looking, she signs to Cas, “He already looks better.”

“Who, Dean?” Cas signs back.

Eileen nods. “He had a pretty bad time.”

Dean turns around then, and Eileen presses a finger to her lips.

There’s not a quiet moment for the rest of the day. Sam explains what happened--”You might be human now,” he says, and Cas replies, “I’m not tired yet.”--and Jack wants Cas to read to him and play Barbies and racecars and puppets (apparently Dean built Jack’s little puppet theater, which--).

After dinner (spaghetti and meatballs, and Dean has a Coke instead of beer, Cas notices), everyone goes off to bed, and Cas realizes he is tired, which is something to think about.

He starts to head to the room he typically stays in, but Dean seizes the top of his arm. “Nope, you’re coming with me.” Dean drags Cas down the hall towards his room.

Cas hadn’t gotten a good luck at it earlier, what with Jack climbing all over him, but he sees it now. Dean’s bed unmade, scraps of random paper littered across the dresser, a picture Cas recognizes because he and Dean are wearing cowboy hats, and now he knows how Dean was really doing right before that case in Dodge City--

There’s also a dent in the wall. That’s new.

Dean follows Cas’s gaze. “I chucked a whiskey bottle at it. Sam took the rest of my stash the next day.” Dean steps over, brushing the drywall’s cracks with his fingers. “I didn’t fix it up so I wouldn’t forget.”

I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.

“Dean,” Cas says, “Tell me in words.”

“What?” Dean turns away from the wall. “Tell you what?”

“You know.”

Dean swallows, licks his lips. “I’d say don’t ever do that again on the whole dying thing, but I said that to you once and you didn’t listen. And maybe if I say it the right way now, you’ll stay, but…” Dean slumps, sits on the bed. “You can’t leave again.”

Cas touches the wall himself before sitting next to Dean on the bed. “I’m not going to.” He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch Dean.

Dean touches him instead, leaning into Cas, finding one of Cas’s hands, holding it tight. He’s crying, Cas realizes. “I love you,” Dean says into their joined hands, then his chest wracks with a sob. “I was always so sure that if--” another sob, “If I said it, you’d leave. Get taken away from me.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Cas repeats.

He isn’t sure how long they sit like that, but Dean finally straightens up, lets go of Cas’s hand, wipes his eyes with the back of his own. “Pajamas,” Dean says, standing and crossing to the dresser. “We gotta get you some of your own, but…” He digs a pair of sweats out of the drawer and tosses them to Cas. “These’ll do for tonight.”

Cas doesn’t ask if he can stay. Dean doesn’t ask him to leave.

With the lights out, it’s pitch black, almost as inky as the Empty, but Cas can hear Dean breathing, so close to him. The bed is almost too small for both of them, so they’re nearly chest-to-chest. Hardly ever have they been this close. Never did Cas dare to dream it.

In the dark, under the covers, the world outside of this room, Dean kisses him. It’s flat, soft, a brush of lips, the barest ghost, but it’s enough. More than enough.

Cas is home.

#offbeatwrites #it's DEANCASAVERSARY #IT'S CAS DAY #IT'S CAS'S BIRTHDAY #it's also one of my best friend's birthdays she has the best birthday huh #anyways I don't really know where this fic came from I just went hey. what if cas hadmovie theater #and I LOVEEEEE the trope of them showing each other their memories. there was so much stuff that if they'd just TALKED about it.......... #god. #anyways! enjoy :) #also yeah minor similarities to a drabble I wrote this summer #that was very much an accident but I think they're different enough

[pynkhues]

.... any succession fic recs? 👀

Yes!! I haven't read a lot for it yet, but some of the stuff I've read has been staggeringly good. I'm generally more into gen fic in this particular fandom, but have enjoyed some Stewy x Kendall, Gerri x Roman and Naomi x Tabitha too.

A few recs under the cut!

“I wanted to get out. From under all this. Take the money and run.”

Kendall tells Stewy even though he knows he’ll never get it, not like Naomi does. He’ll never understand the crush of it, the heart-stopping head-fucking fear of failing a tyrant. Kendall’s been ignoring the shape of it for a long time, putting pieces of it together in the back of his mind in total darkness like a blindfolded man. It doesn’t matter that one day his dad will die. It doesn’t matter about the money or the hostile takeover or the stolen files or any of it. There’s no running. Kendall’s Logan Roy lives inside his head.

Stewy laughs. Stewy laughs for a long time.

“There is no out, Ken, what the fuck are you talking about? You were born this and you’ll die this. You are what you are, and what you are is a fucking Roy.”

Kendall hates him, for a moment. Lightning-strike furious. What the fuck does he know about any of it, about his dad’s swinging dinner plate-sized hands, about getting 24% name recognition in reliable international polling, about puking every time you think about a car swerving off the road in the rain. About finding out that you can do something unthinkably, unimaginably terrible, and it doesn’t matter to anyone you know but you. There’s a scar on his arm that no one else who hasn’t already been told how it got there can ever know about, and he’s sick of it, and it’s not fair. He hates Stewy for a moment because Stewy’s right.

“I wanted to do the right thing, Stewy, for once in my fucking life.”

Stewy laughs again, more briefly, and the predator flash of his eyes in the neon of the motel sign is a torture all its own.

‘There is no right and wrong, Ken. How the fuck do you not know that yet? Not for people like you. Like us. There’s shit you get caught doing and there’s shit you don’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You really, really fucking don’t,” says Ken, and fuck, there it is. The road less travelled, that only he has ever driven on. The path he’s down where Stewy can’t follow. That place beyond Stewy Hosseini where he never thought he could go.

“You’re not telling me something, and when I find out what that is, and I will find out what it is, Kendall, don’t you think I won’t, so I am warning you that when I do find out I am going to be righteously fucking pissed,” says Stewy, and if Kendall thought those were a predator’s eyes before—

“Yeah, you will,” says Kendall, because he knows exactly how perceptive Stewy is. Exactly how weak he is. Exactly, precisely what both of them are.

And treat this night like it’ll happen again by postcardmystery. 8k words. Kendall x Stewy. Post s2. (CW: internalised homophobia, some homophobic language)

I tried to pick a shorter excerpt, but I literally couldn’t, this fic is so. good. The voices are pitch perfect, and it’s got this incredible build to it overall that goes back and forth between time and point of views and just rips your heart out. The premise itself is pretty simple – after the press conference at the end of 2.10, Kendall calls Stewy, and they drive through rural America while Kendall has a breakdown, and it’s just - - unspeakably good. I love it so so so much, I have no words.

r/roysucks Connor’s gf just posted on Instagram (instagram.com) submitted two months ago by webbedscrum_2279 23 comments share save hide report

[–] DM_ME_SAMESMAIL 40 points two months ago I too like to escape to my yacht in the Mediterranean when my family and I are on trial for covering up rape and murder. permalink embed save report reply

AITA for accusing my father of multiple crimes on his own news station? By amleth 3k words. Gen fic. Post s2.

And now for something completely different – epistolary fic which is just reddit news threads of the Roy family drama. I love an epistolary fic and this is just totally charming, and made me laugh a lot out loud.

“You’re quiet,” she observes. “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well, the Turks beat it out of me. Gave you a run for their money.” He waggles his eyebrows. “So what is this? Whips and chains? Are we doing the whole boat-sex thing? I heard Shiv and Tom are looking for a third —“

Gerri finds what she’s looking for: a black leather binder. She drops it on the bed and begins paging through it, and Roman cranes his neck enough to recognize that it’s just full of documents, not like, dick pics. “I’ve given some thought to what you proposed a few weeks ago, and I agree that we should make things official in some way,” she says, and he blinks.

“Uh,” he says. “Which — what part of it?”

“Take a look.”

Gerri closes the folio and hands it over. It’s deceptively heavy, and the print on these pages is way too fucking fine, he thinks, paging through it. “Is this some kind of, like, Fifty Shades of Roy sex contract? Because it’s not that I’m not into it, but I think there’s a strong argument for going paperless —”

“Strictly speaking, this isn’t legally binding,” Gerri says. “Just something I threw together with regard to our business arrangement going forward. But with no respect to the family — the past few weeks have really illustrated that no one should take anyone at their word right now. Give me a little more than your word.”

Evacuation strategies for a yacht on fire by devourthemoon. 11k words. Gerri x Roman. Post s2. Explicit.

After the events of s2, Roman and Gerri fake being married as a professional alliance, only, y’know, maybe it’s not so fake. This fic is just so, so much fun, and messy in the best possible way. The author nails all the character voices, and the sex scenes are just the right amount of hot and ridiculous, and I just love it all a lot too.

Kendall estimates it will take an hour for the first articles to go up. Some rapid-fire blog without oversight—the New York Post, maybe, or wherever those Vaulter hippies have skulked off to—will slap a catchy headline on it and report his words verbatim. Give or take a gif of his face when he switches to script number two. New York Times, Washington Post, AP, those fuckers take longer. They like to bleed the story like Middle Ages plague doctors for its marrow, fact-check and add context and analysis and as many backlinks as their servers can handle. Still, a couple of hours, and his face will be plastered on every major news outlet. His voice will play over the nightly talk shows. He’ll trend on Twitter. A few more days, and he’ll be the star of analysis segments, podcasts, weekly briefings. Maybe, fuck it, maybe he’ll trend on Twitter again.

It’s been years since Kendall read Shakespeare. But that shit sticks with you, gets under your skin and emerges when you least expect it, like eczema or Keynesian economics. He knows how the media will spin this. Kendall Roy Attacks CEO Logan for Years of Corruption. Prodigal Son Disrupts Family Legacy to Restore Credibility. That’s how Hamlet ends, right? And Macbeth, Lear, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, even Titus fucking Andronicus. The spilled blood sinks into the ground, the seedlings sprout forth from the soil, and a new castle is built on the bones. Order out of chaos, or at least close enough an approximation that the tabloids will buy it.

Legacy for profit by owlinaminor Post-2.10. Kendall Roy. Kendall through Shakespeare analogies – just - - ooooof. It's a beautiful, lyrical character study that weaves through Roy family history and teases at a future none of them are even sure they want. It's gorgeous writing.

For the next few days Shiv would have to keep the pressure on Kira like an open wound because there were other women, victims that Nate’s people were going to find one by one as soon as that phone call disconnected. Mo was her father’s friend, good friend, for a long, long time. Nate and Gil, Sandy and Stewy, too many sharks in the water and the share price probably dipped to a new low but she would never check a stock ticker. Her husband’s nerves fraying at the edges on national television. She had promised a woman she’d never met before that she would kill roughly one third of the top male executives of her family’s company. Her company.

The last look Rhea gave her before she shut the car door was concern close to fear—no longer the same woman who heard their pitch in the safe room, who laughed with her at Argestes. Rhea had only looked into the abyss; she got cold feet and she didn’t even know what it’s like to grow up in it.

Her family’s company is hers, will be hers. Even from a whale fall, new life would spring.

Feed his flesh to wayward daughters by reogulus. 2k words. Shiv Roy. Set during 2.09.

This entire fic is set around Shiv bribing Kira not to testify, and god, it is so good. It’s bleak and rough, and really hones in on the complex ground Shiv walks as a character. It's another brilliant study of what it takes to be a Roy, and the way they make the awful choices in order to fulfill this legacy that they don't even know they want.

Kendall sets down his fork. “So. Tell me. Is it everything you wanted? Is it what you thought it would be?”

Roman stills. He never does that. He’s constantly a menace in motion, slouching and fidgeting, worse even than Kendall at his amphetamine peak. “What? The view from the tippy-tippy-top?”

“His regard.” Kendall wipes his mouth with the edge of the white cloth napkin. It comes away pink from the steak. “Dad. He’s all yours now.”

Roman still hasn’t moved. Finally, he lurches, like corroded machinery come uncertainly to life. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking tight as hell. I love every beautiful daddy and me moment I was a good enough little boy to earn.” He snorts. “Fuck you.” His face goes curiously slack then, like something Kendall’s own face would do. An intermission in the performance, an energy cut. Something genuine finding its way to the surface. “Why don’t you tell me. When you got everything you wanted, how the fuck did that make you feel?”

Nauseous, is the first word that springs to mind. Sick. Scared. I’ve never had everything I wanted, there’s that. I’ve never once had a single fucking thing I wanted. There’s that, too.

Interim leadership by arbitrarily 2k words. Roman + Kendall. Post s2.

I love Roman and Kendall scenes generally, but this one which features Kendall and Roman meeting for the first time a few months after the press conference in 2.10 is just a bit magic. The push pull dynamic that's just inherent to them mixed with the genuine affection and brotherly love is really special, and arbitrarily embraces both in equal measure. It's a great little fic.

There are lots more of course, and I'd also recommend checking out other works by these authors, but I hope this is a good place to start! :-)

#hbo succession #succession fic #fic recs #welcome to my ama #kendall x stewy #gerri x roman

[lovemesomeharry]

MAKE YOU MINE

Warnings: Curse words, angst, smut

Words: 8.6k

Summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for a long time until Harry catches feelings and everything gets worse before things get better.

Y/N had always seen him as a star, always shining bright in the most devine color. Everybody knew and saw that he was the sharpest one among everyone but he would never dare to brag about it. To him, everybody was shining too and that just made him even more beautiful.

That's why Y/N loved to observe him. Whether it was him on stage, singing his soul out, and losing control in the best way possible just to make the crowd go wild and become alive.

Or he could be working and his best friend would try to remember in which angle the tip of his tongue stuck out between his rosy lips and his nose would twitch slightly when he was whispering his written words to himself just to let it taste on his tongue.

Or it could be in a situation like this one right here. Y/N watched him how he interacted with people, slightly tipsy, giggling too much and awfully affectionate. Those adorable dimples appeared on his cheeks as he flashed a wide smile to anyone that came to his sight. She couldn't hear what he was saying but it didn't prevent her own smile from appearing on her face as if she’d been a part of the conversation. Even if Harry was telling one of his usual bad jokes, everybody would still end up laughing because it was Harry who told them and he was so damn good at selling those awful jokes.

Y/N wouldn’t say that she was the opposite of Harry, but no one has ever come close to Harry’s charm and his approachable body language. He was a people's person and no one could deny it.

As the night went on Harry kept on drinking and became cuddlier, gigglier and his need to talk to his beat friend grew immensely.

Once he had spotted her a wider grin adorned his face if it was possible at this point, and anyone must have wondered how it didn't hurt to smile like that. He hadn't seen much of her because he was too busy chatting up the other guests, but he was about to change that.

“Y/N.” His words were slurred and a giggle followed right after he was successful at scaring her by approaching her from behind and nearly shouting into her ear.

She turned around, with a pouty mouth, and slapped Harry’s tattooed arm. “Why would you do that, asshole?”

Harry rubbed at the place where she had slapped him, even though her hit wasn't hard and he wasn't really in pain. “Ouch! You’re so mean. I just wanted to talk to you.” With his finger, he tapped the tip of her nose. “Wouldn’t have come here if I knew you were gonna be a meanie to me.” He moved his face right in front of hers and she could totally smell the alcohol he must have in his system.

“What do you mean? When have I ever been nice to you? I can't stand you.” Now she was grinning from one ear to the other as she watched how Harry’s faced dropped. She loved to mess with him but when he was drunk it was a lot funnier. His brain couldn't comprehend the sarcasm and it made him believe that she was saying the truth.

His eyes lost his previous spark and the corners of his mouth were turned upside down as he let the one curl fall onto his forehead to cover up the crease forming between his two eyebrows.

He looked so adorable, but of course, Y/N wasn't the one who would tell him that.

“Take that back.” His tone was demanding but whiny and he crossed his arms in front of his chest as he took a step closer to her. He strengthened his posture but in his drunken state it just looked too funny and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his poor attempting to be intimidating. It just made him even more unhappy, as he put both of his hands at each side of her head and pressed his hot skin on the cool wall, coming so close to her that their noses almost touched.

She felt his hot breath on her upper lip as she shook her head. “No, I never liked you. Deal with it.”

Both were staring at each other and totally forgot the people around them and what situation they were in. The only sound they heard was their own heartbeat as they canceled out the rest of their world.

His green eyes looked at her slightly opened mouth and for a short moment, he hesitated before he pressed his lips to hers. She let out a surprised squeak when she felt his soft mouth on hers, sloppily kissing her. The kiss was short and she couldn't really comprehend it when he let go of her. “How do you like me now?” His voice was deep enough go make chills run down her spine and she couldn't believe what just happened.

He really kissed hee, his best fucking friend. She could still feel his soft mouth on hers and taste the bitter alcohol he had previously.

Y/N felt like as if she was dreaming, but when Harry just walked away she knew it wasn't one. In her dreams, he never walked away afterward.

She didn't really know what to make of this situation and tried to keep a cool head but the fast-beating heart in her chest made it not an easy task.

Would he remember him kissing her? Was he going to regret it? Are things going to be awkward between them from now on?

As bad she wanted to reminisce the kiss and do this again, she was scared that their friendship was hanging on a thread. So her enjoyment was cut short painfully for the rest of the night.

When Harry came by her house with fresh croissants and two coffees Y/N swore her heart stopped for a second.

He looked not as happy as he did a few hours ago and dark shadows painted his skin right underneath his eyes. He looked so tried but tried to cover it up by wearing a beanie and a gigantic hoodie. But it just ended up making him look even more tired and cuddly at the same time.

Y/N really wanted to focus on his looks but after what happened yesterday she hadn't had a chance to talk to him about the kiss. It was making her crazy not knowing what was going through the brits head.

The small voice inside her head told her he was going to regret it. He’d let go of her and wonder how he could have ever done that. He was going to call her names, or at least that's what her head told her. Even though she knew exactly Harry would never go as low as to call her names, she still feared the possibility. Even if it was.t his nature. Besides she wouldn't know how to feel if he’d ever been so rude to her. It would entirely mess up her confidence because she cared about his opinion too much for her own liking.

“Are you ok?” He had asked after staring at her for a solid minute and her not catching him doing so. A worried look took over his soft features as both of them sat down on both ends of her white couch. Much to Harry’s displeasure who wanted her to sit closer to him.

“What?” She shook her head as if she was trying to get those thoughts out of her head. “I’m fine.”

Suspiciously Harry raised his eyebrow. “No, you're not. You’ve been awfully quiet, love.” His leg was bouncing up and down and his entire body sank into the couch. He looked relaxed and Y/N wondered how he was so calm when inside her she was in such troubles. How was he so calm when it was his fault that she was in such a troublesome situation?

She was going to ask him about the kiss, but he was a bit faster and began to speak. “Is it because I kissed Naomi?”

Now Y/N’s head perked up. “Naomi?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, I was a bit too drunk and kissed her. She texted me this morning asking what that meant.” He sighed as he pat his left leg. “It was so awkward. I had to explain to her that I didn’t think much of it.”

Y/N tried to listen to her best friend as he went on about it, but she couldn't really listen anymore when the small voice laughed at her. Of course, he didn't think much of it and he probably doesn't think much of the kiss they both shared, apparently on the very same night too. But she couldn't help but wonder if he could assume what she was feeling for him? Did he kiss anybody else? Could he still remember their kiss the way she did?

Why would he when he could have anyone? Harry always loved the attention he got from girls and was just taking advantage of his situation.

But Y/N just wished he wouldn't have brought her into this mess, because her heart was too fragile to come out without any bruises.

He's actually gonna try to let it go. He asks his heart to beat slower each time, but he can't get it right when he sees her in front of him.

With her wide smiles, her bright eyes and the loving charisma that she radiates so naturally, everywhere and at all times, it is impossible for him to keep a clear head. And if he is completely honest with himself, he does not want to keep a clear head when it means that she will not take up most of the space in his brain.

Ever since he had first heard her voice, it had echoed in his ear. Day and night. But it was not a nightmare. On the contrary. Her soft voice sounded like his new favourite song that he could listen to in a continuous loop without ever being saturated by it. Fuck. He would even play it at his concerts, he loved it so much.

That's how beautiful he thought she was.

He never wanted to admit to himself that she had his vulnerable heart in her hand and could do whatever she wanted and he wouldn't stop her. She could ram thousands of knives through it and he would thank her with a painful smile.

He felt pathetic. He felt so helpless. But most, he felt so stupid.

But it got worse when his eyes gleamed with jealousy. The sparks that sparkled for her were mixed with the gasoline that his jealousy fed him. A menacing fire was seething inside him, ready to spread. But it was not a fire of passion that spread a pleasant warmth in his body, but something that could destroy everything around him.

Harry was never a person who longed for revenge or liked to see others suffer. He is really not a sadist, but in that moment he became one.

Because a stranger dared to touch his Y/N where he should not touch her. He wanted to stomp to them and drag him off her.

But he could not do that.

First of all, that wouldn't do him any favors, because it would be just what the the press was waiting for. They already loved to fabricate the wildest stories about him, so, he didn’t really need to give them the satisfaction of a real story.

And second, the more pressing matter, she was not his Y/N. At least not in the way that he would like her to be.

That's why he leaned against the cool wall, sipped on his beer, and watched the two of them with eyebrows drawn together instead of doing anything. At least for now he decided to lay low.

He didn't even understand what she found attractive enough about him to let him talk to her. The stranger seemed like a lowered version of Michael B. Jordan, yet he seemed to be able to make her laugh. Her eyes always sparkled with the stars and Harry wished so much that he was the reason for it and not the prick in front of her.

Jealousy clouded his vision because Y/N felt that the stranger in front of her, whose name was Nick, was not a condescending version but came so damn close to the actor that the sight softened her knees. He bared his straight teeth when the opportunity presented itself and she could swear that she saw her own reflection in them.

“Would you like to continue this conversation in private?” Nick asked, coming dangerously close to her ear. She smelled his strong perfume and felt his hot breath tickling her skin. She sucked the air sharply and bit onto her lower lip as he graced her earlobe. An exciting sensation ran through her sensitive body parts but mostly, she could feel the tingling sensation between her legs. It had been too long since she’s been with a man.

Her fingers ran up and down the edge of her glass as she nodded. She tried not to appear too excited, but she didn't suspect she was doing a good job, as a playful grin spread across his handsome face.

The more she was pleased, the angrier her best friend became, still staring at them with an eagle eye, as if he was ready to grab his prey any minute before anyone else got the chance. Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, nor could he lip-read, which he regretted at that moment, but his alarm bells began to ring when the stranger stood up and took her delicate hand in his.

It hadn't taken him a minute to act and if his brain hadn't been completely clouded he would have thought he was foolish. How could he run after a girl who is only his best friend? She gets to go anywhere with whoever she pleases. Even if it was a Walmart version of an actor.

As he stood just inches away from the guy, he realized what he was doing and how ridiculous he probably looked. It's not like he didn't has his fair share on body counts.

But before he could change his mind, Y/N glimpsed at him with a questioning look. She raised her left eyebrow, almost as if to ask him if everything was okay.

Harry wanted to say no, even scream it out loud. But he choked out what was going through his mind at that moment. “I-I've lost my car keys.”

In his mind, he threw a bunch of curse words at himself and he would have absolutely no problem if a black hole appeared underneath him that could suck him in.

“What?” He heard Y/N's confused voice and the stranger finally looked at him. On his face, Harry could see the amusement again. Of course, he thought Harry was a fool and he, too, admitted to being one.

He swallowed the lump down his throat. “I can't find them anymore.” Harry had no intention of making that sentence sound like a question because it made his obvious lie even more obvious.

“Is it in your po-”

“-No” He nearly blurted it out. “You got to help me.”

Y/N looked sceptically at Harry. She knew him well enough to be sure he would never lose his car keys. He could lose his rings, but he would never lose his car keys. His car collection, which consisted almost entirely of vintage cars, was his pride and joy and he treated them like his own children.

Visibly annoyed and irritated by his actions, she sighed. “Are you sure?”

He just nodded and she struggled with the urge to ditch him to have her fun with Nick. But how could she be so heartless and abandon her best friend, even though he lied to her straight on without batting an eyelid? But somehow his eyebrows furrowed and the nervous lip chewing had gotten to her. So she turned to Nick with an apologetic look, but he understood the situation completely and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.”

He laughed. “Don't worry about it. I get it.” For a brief moment, Nick looked at Harry and put his best smirk on his face to show him he understood Harry's true intentions. But that didn't stop him from whispering something into Y/N's ear and gently kissing the spot behind her it.

Harry's eyes were about to fly out or Nick was about to fly across the room. He couldn't decide what would happen, but his guess was on the second one.

Y/N nodded after the stranger and when her eyes finally met Harry's they suddenly became cold and annoyed. A shiver ran down his spine when he realized that and he really knows which fuses were blown that he had freed her from that guy.

“I have seen the keys-” he started, but Y/N interrupted him with a horrified laugh.

“Cut the bullshit, Harry. I know you didn't lose your fucking keys.”

He had to swallow hard, but his throat still felt dry. He thought about what he could say to her, but her annoyed look somehow cut off the oxygen to his brain. So he was forced to take his emerald eyes off hers and instead looked through the crowd in the club that was already staring at them.

“Can we settle this somewhere else?” With his painted index finger he pointed in the direction of the curious onlookers, which is why she agreed.

It was at moments like these that she completely forgot who he really was. He is not just her best friend, a colossal pain in her ass, but also an A-list celebrity.

Harry exhaled the hot air, and gratefully grabbed her arm to pull her along.

He pulled her all the way outside, where the cool air whipped Y/N's skin and she only now realized how stuffy it was inside. The glowing moon stared down at them as Harry ran to his car. As they stood in front of it, his eyes drilled holes in her head and she raised her arms on her hips.

“Cat got your tongue?” She first broke the tense silence.

It took a moment longer before he finally found the ability to think clearly again, but his eyes were too busy marveling at her delicate features in the moonlight. He had to admit that the light made her look even more magical and her skin practically glittered. He tried to turn his eyes away from her, but she looked so ethereal and it didn't help him that he got to see so much of her soft skin. To do himself a bittersweet favor, Harry opened his car door with the supposedly lost key, which made Y/N laugh sarcastically and get into the car after him.

She was right.

“I didn't lose my car keys.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He reached his hand through his frizzy curls, which were slightly sweaty. “The guy was... weird.” He sighed slightly frustrated with her for not dropping the topic but also himself for getting into the mess he was currently in.

“Weird?” Y/N asked, sounding almost amused. “He looked like Michael B. Jordan, for fucks sake!” She couldn’t believe her best friend, because she was usually the one telling him if a person seemed off but he’d ignore her advice. So who did he think he was for rescuing her?

Harry didn't like the feeling that was brewing inside of him that could cause a series of hurtful words to leash out of his mouth. So he simply bit the inside of his cheek. Of course, she thought he looked like him.

“He only wanted to shag you.“ His deep voice spit the words out like venom. Both of his hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles more visible.

She scoffed. “I was obviously looking for a husband at a club, right?” Y/N rested her back against the soft Italian leather and turned her head to notice his clenched jaw.

He really hated it when she was sarcastic with him and even more when she rolled those pretty eyes of hers.

“Why are you so pissed, H? Not that I ever cockblocked you.”

He tried to stiffen his breathy laughter, because she had no idea what she was doing to him. She did, in fact, do that, just not in the same way Harry just did and maybe it wasn’t fair of him to blame it all on Y/N because she had no idea what was going through his head. But yet Harry felt like she should know that she's living in his daydreams with him, that she's the first thing he thinks of after waking up and the last person to fall asleep to. He occasionally dreamed of her and as the nights got lonelier he’d imagine her laying beside him. He couldn't even shag anyone without thinking of the incredible girl sitting on his passenger's seat right now. He would compare every girl he tried to get into his bed to her and sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take the stranger back home, because his heart was aching for somebody else. So yeah, she was a cockblock to him. The most annoying one he's ever had.

“Actually you did. Remember how Chloe was apparently using me for fame?” Chloe was the blonde and bubbly girl who was all over Harry just a few days ago when he and Y/N went to the gym together. She was all over him since the minute he stepped foot into the gym and even though he could see Y/N’s glaring stare on them he flirted back. His best friend even tried to warn him, but he shrugged it off and went through with a bathroom quickie.

And what makes it worse: Chloe wasn’t the only one. There were many more like her.

Thinking back he really didn’t understand why he had done all those things when he was never interested in those girls. Or maybe he does know why. He wanted to make Y/N jealous. See if she would give him any sort of reaction, but that never came. So now thinking back he didn’t understand why thought it was a good idea playing with peoples hearts and give them the two minutes of fame that they craved so badly.

She looked at him with disbelief. “She was! But I guess I’m sorry for caring about your reputation?” Her head slightly bounced off the seat as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I really don’t understand why it’s such a big deal who I shag.”

And honestly Harry wished he would feel the same way, but he just doesn't.

“Because you shouldn’t spread your legs for every guy.”

And Harry wished he just didn't say that.

Her delicate features twisted with anger as she straightened her posture so she could have a better look at him. She wanted to make sure that he really said those words but to her dislike he did.

A bitter taste lingered in her mouth and her whole facial expression turned sour.

“Excuse me? You’re calling me a slut, when you're the one with a new girl every week?” She raised her voice and truly couldn't believe how the conversation progressed from his ‘lost car keys’ to him accusing her of such things.

Harry’s tense fingers gripped slightly at his wild curls, obviously unhappy with his poor choice of words. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then fucking enlighten me please? Because right now you’re acting like an asshole!” Her heart was beating rapidly and with each heartbeat, she felt a sharp pain shooting through her entire body. Of all people, she would’ve never expected Harry to insult her and make her feel dirty. Almost as if she was easy to have when it was most definitely not the case. But his little accusation broke her heart and her self esteem in a way that she had to question every decision she has made so far.

“It’s just” He started not really knowing where to go with his words. “I fucking like you.”

She sneered not catching on the real meaning behind Harry’s confession. “I like you too, but I don't walk around and call you a man whore.”

How could she be so stupid sometimes? He really wanted to ask her that. Because it was hard enough to admit that once but having to explain it to her was so much worse.

“You don’t get it, Y/N. I really like you.” He watched her face carefully as the panic spread through him. He can’t believe he told her like that, or at all.

Y/N was confused. So extremely confused and angry. Not for lying to her, cockblocking her or initiating that she’s a slut, but for the fact that he had the audacity to do this to their friendship. Once again. She barely had gotten the kiss out of her memories.

“You’re drunk, right?” She picked on her nail polish, slightly taking small bits of it off as she started at him with disbelief. Why couldn’t he just lose his car keys? “This is a joke.”

He didn’t know what to say to her anymore, so he stayed silent and took his eyes off of her.

“Harry, you always do that.”

“Do what?” Now it was his time to be confused.

“You’re not into me. You’re just bored.” She sighed heavily. Y/N didn’t want to reveal what she was thinking of his love life knowing that he wouldn’t like it. But at the end of the day he’s a relationship person. It wouldn’t be too bad if he wouldn’t fall so fast for the first person who gave him a little bit of attention. Because when he’s single he’d get all lonely and eventually falls in love with the first person he sees. It has always been like this, that’s why Y/N refuses to give in to him and let their friendship take the fall. Because Harry never got anything out of these relationships, besides a broken friendship and always a broken heart. “You always do that, you know? H, you just want attention.”

Harry thought he’d be able to smile if she’d slice his heart open, but the little cuts are already painful enough to make his eyes tear up if he wouldn’t fight it. “So my feelings are not valid and I just want attention?” A bitter laugh left his slightly quivering lips. “I think I got enough of that.” He shook his head at himself for letting those words slip out of his mouth. He knew she didn’t feel the same but at least she could’ve let him down less harsh. “You could’ve just said you don't feel the same.”

“Trust me you won’t feel the same when somebody else comes along.” He will, or at least that's what he thought. But it hurt like hell hearing her not taking him seriously.

He started the engine of the car without shooting a single glance her way because looking at Y/N would make him feel worse and he didn't know how much strength he had inside of him to not let his tears appear at this waterline.

He felt stupid. He felt humiliated. But mostly he felt so incredibly broken and scared.

He always knew him and Y/N was never going to be a thing because she didn't feel the same. How could she? She only saw him as her friend and Harry knew she deserves someone better. Someone who could give her the world, when Harry would have to hide her from it.

But Harry was so scared as he took her home and a million thoughts were running through his mind. He probably changed everything between them but he hoped he wasn’t going to lose her completely.

But he couldn't help to wonder if he just ruined their friendship?

It had been a little bit over a week since Y/N had last seen Harry. He dropped her off at her place and before she could say a thing he drove off again. So everything was left unspoken between them when all Y/N wanted to do was to talk it out with him. But she was scared. She didn't know how he’d react or if he'd want to talk to her.

And she’d understand if he didn't.

She knew she hurt him. That was her intention. She knew he would’ve stuck to his feelings if she didn't push him away to save their friendship.

They had come a long way and she wasn't sure if it was worth it throwing their close bond away for Harry’s small interest in her.

She’d be lying if she said the thought never crossed her mind. In fact, it did way too often for her own liking. It was just too hard to be platonic with him when he was too good at using his charm on her.

But at the same time that was another problem. He did it with everyone. So how could Y/N be certain he wouldn't get tired of her after they'd let their feelings take the upper hand?

No matter how hard she tried to ban Harry from her thoughts he’d always find his way through her thick skull. It was impossible for her to forget him when the image of his pained face was still haunting her and the only sound she heard was his strained voice.

She just hoped he as doing alright. That he wouldn't take it too personally and would get over it. The best-case scenario would be that they could laugh about it one day and would wonder how he could ever think to have feelings for his best friend.

But for them to reach that stage one of those stubborn people would have to give in and Y/N wasn’t sure who would be brave enough to take the first step. It has never been her strong suit and neither was it Harry’s.

Y/N spent her whole afternoon by being lazy. A quality she had started to be familiar with. It took her a while till she actually got out of her warm bed and before she really kicked off her day, she had a quick scroll through Instagram. But she regretted that almost instantly.

Pictures of Harry and a blonde girl were plastered all over the internet and she couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the familiar face. Chloe.

She bit the insides of her cheek a little bit too harshly as they seemed very cozy with one another at a concert last night, both of them dancing and hugging each other in a way Harry never did with Y/N. His hands were a little bit too low and her mouth came his dangerously close, but there weren't any pictures of them kissing, which made her sigh in relief.

She shut down her phone and threw it onto her bed and crawled underneath her blanket.

Y/N knew she shouldn't trust whatever she saw in those pictures because a bad angle could make anything look fishy. She experienced this firsthand when she and Harry became friends. Everybody seemed to believe that something was going on between them and an innocent hug could be interpreted as a passionate goodbye of two heartbroken lovers.

But no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that those are just pictures and no real confession, her brain wouldn't let her believe it.

If Harry liked her so much he would try to talk to her instead of waltzing to the next best thing. Y/N knew how he was and she’d predicted the unavoidable outcome. Sooner or later Harry would've become bored of her and leave her for someone new, someone more exciting and their friendship would be at the exact same place as it was at that moment.

She didn't like how both outcomes predicted how her heart would beat painfully in her chest and she wondered if Harry’s heart felt that even if it was for just a second.

It’s been exactly 22 days since Harry and Y/N last interacted with one another and Y/N couldn't help but count the days herself. She doesn't know when she picked that up along the way but at least it was getting easier for her to get out of her bed in the morning. So she thought it was better for her to look at the bright sight.

Besides she was happy to not have seen any more pictures of Harry and Chloe. So she believed it was nothing serious to him, even if the little voice echoed in her head how they both have gotten better at hiding from the rude photographers. But even if they weren't going out anymore she wouldn't be shocked. When has something like this ever meant anything to him?

But she banished those thoughts as she tried to go on with her everyday life.

Y/N really couldn't believe how much he was actually involved in her life. It could be an ordinary situation where she saw something cute, took a picture of it and her hand immediately swiped to Harry’s name so he could have a look at it himself. It happened without her knowledge and if she wasn't so fast she might have sent him accidentally a message already.

But it wasn't just that. It would happen if she got a coffee before going to the gym. Even though she had to go to a different café after changing her gym to avoid running into Harry. She’d order two drinks before it was too late and she stood their like an idiot wondering what she should do with the bullet coffe she hated but he always drank.

And what was more embarrassing was the fact how she would always think of Harry first, before she thought of anybody else, including herself.

That’s why her heart broke every day a little bit harder instead of trying to heal itself, but she slowly learned to get used to the heart ache.

But the sudden realizations kept her up all night and she wondered how she could've missed the signs when they were lying right in front of her very own, and apparently very blind, eyes.

Maybe it was because of her blind eyes or her slowness after working multiple hours without catching a break or her not being able to fight back the urge anymore after doing so successfully for 22 days that she sent Harry a picture of a cute dog she had found on Instagram.

When her brain finally processed what she had done, the horror on her face was obvious. She tried to delete the message but to her misfortune Harry had already seen it.

The grey bubble appeared which made her stop breathing as she waited anxiously for his response. Was he going to tell her to delete his number and leave him alone?

Harry – 09:34 PM

Can I come over?

Finally, Y/N let some oxygen inside of her again. She had to debate a bit with herself and tried to make up an excuse why he couldn’t come over. But she decided against it.

Y/N – 09:36 PM

Sure

She wanted to add a ’please’ but decided against it as she didn't want to sound desperate.

After she had sent the message her legs were bouncing up and down and she’d casually get up and rehearse a conversation that might happen.

She was nervous. She was so extremely nervous because she didn't what he was going to say.

But she knew what she had to say. She would do anything in her powder to avoid ending their friendship because the last few days had already felt like hell to her. How was she supposed to live like that for the rest of her life?

And when he finally rang her doorbell her mumbling stopped and she stared at the door trying to look if it really was Harry behind it. But she had no supervision so she began moving towards it. With unsteady steps, she opened it up to reveal a distraught looking Harry.

His puffy eyes looked even darker and heavier compared to when he was hungover and the little beard he grew made him more attractive but also proved that he hadn't been taking care of himself in a while, as his hair also looked a little bit greasy from where she stood.

They both just stared at each other, unable to exchange words but Y/N had hoped that she looked better than him. But she couldn't be positive about it because she wasn't exactly taking care of herself either.

Still, in silence, she opened the door a little bit wider to let him come him. When he did she caught a small whiff of his fresh cologne and her eyes wanted to tear up right at that moment.

She had missed him so much that just his scent made her already feel more at ease and all she wanted to do was to collapse in his chest and let him pull her closer by wrapping his strong arms around her body.

She wanted him close to her again.

For a moment the silence still remained and their were staring at their feet before they both started talking at the same time.

“I’m so sorry.” Did the two of them say at the same time with the same pain lingering in their voices.

He looked up first with an hopefull expression. He was so scared that she wouldn’t say anything and simply tell him to get his stuff out of her place. He was fearing for a text like that for so long, even today when her name popped up in his notifications. But once he saw the dog picture he was able to relax a bit and didn't hesitate when he asked if he could come over.

Now they were both standing there and hoping that it wasn't the last time they'd see each other.

“No, don’t be. It's my fault.” She started to say, still looking at her feet and playing with the hem of her sweatshirt as she stood there awkwardly in the middle of her living room, not knowing what to do with her body. “I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings.”

A minor pain shot through his body as he remembered the heartbreaking memory. But he couldn’t be mad at her for doing so and just by looking at her he was sure he would never take that personally, especially after initiating that she was easy to have. “I-I know you don't sleep around and you don’t open your legs for everyone. I’m sorry about that. And lying to you.” He shook his head as she tried to speak again and at the fact that he actually said all those things to her.

“And I’m so sorry for being so bitter after the kiss. I should have not let my anger out on you. You were drunk.” She finally dared to look into Harry’s conflicted face. His hair was a little bit longer than she remembered as his curls seemed to tickle his neck and the patchy beard made him look more mature than he did before.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What kiss?” Harry’s brain tried to remember when the kiss could have happened but there were no memories of him kissing the girl in front of him. He was sure he could not forget kissing an angel, or could he? “We kissed?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, at the party?” She bit her lip and tried to play it cool. “You kissed Naomi on that day too.”

“Wait a minute, I kissed you too?” As his brain started to work and a distant remembrance popped up when he pressed his lip to Naomi’s in a drunken state. But he could not remember kissing Y/N, but he wishes he did. “How could I forget that?”

Y/N laughed trying to ease the situation when the tension was becoming too much for her. “It’s not like it meant something to you.”

And with that, she did not only hurt her heart but also Harry’s, who actually showed her what an effect her words had on him. “Is that why you think I’m not being serious?”

Y/N didn’t want to nod her head. She didn't want to give him an answer he was waiting for so long. So she didn't, even if both of them could stop cutting deeper into each other's hearts.

Slowly Harry got closer to her. The wooden floor underneath him creaking with every step until he was close enough to touch her face gently and make her look at him. “Naomi doesn't matter. Chloe doesn't matter. No one does. But if I remembered kissing you, I would be over the moon.” His heart was beating at high speed as he confessed his feelings, hoping that she would too if she was into him. “Because you do matter to me.” With his last part of the confession, he pressed his forehead to hers and tried to hold her close. His eyes closed shut and he focused only on her breathing.

Y/N’s feelings were all over the place. She was happy. She was scared and she felt nauseous. Was this all happening? Was the guy she has been crushing on for a few years now finally confessing his feelings for her?

“You don’t remember the kiss?” Her voice was hoarse when asked and Harry almost immediately shook his head. “Shall I refresh your memory?“

His eyes were about to bulge out of his head and his hands gripped her face a little bit harder. He stepped away from her a little so he could see the sarcasm on her face. But she wasn't joking. She was being sincere and once Harry realized that his lips came crashing into hers.

His feathery lips sucked on hers before he opened his mouth a little and teased her with his tongue to let him in. Once she did he wanted to moan into her mouth at the sweet taste she provided him with. Her hands were roaming in his hair and he didn't even notice when she slipped his beanie off of his head and started tugging at his curls.

This is all he ever wanted. That is all she ever wanted.

She was amazed by how soft his lips were and he couldn’t grasp the fact that she tasted sweeter than her scent and so much more addictive after getting a taste.

Slowly Y/N started to walk backward until she felt the couch on her legs. She pulled Harry on top of her when she sat down and hungrily continued the kiss after the short break.

His hands were sliding down her face, her neck and eventually came to a halt as he touched her hips to keep her steady. He can't imagine how she let him kiss her again. It all felt like a dream to both of them and they were not ready to wake up anytime soon.

He slipped his lips off hers, trying his best to catch his breath, before trailing kisses up and down her neck. Her small hands we're still playing with his curls and when she started to pull at them he moaned into her neck. He had waited so long for this to happen.

Y/N pushed her chest into his and once he pushed her into the soft cushions he continued to kiss her body. His kisses we're short but he didn't forget a single spot to love. She watched him with hungry eyes as he began to move lower and lower until he was between her legs. He looked up between her thighs, finding Y/N in a needy state. “Is this ok?”

She nodded and waited patiently for him to continue.

“Talk to me, love. Tell me.” His voice sounded so soft and she could swear she felt a tingle between her legs because of his voice and the nickname he had used.

“Yes. Continue, please.” He giggled at how breathless she already sounded and because of those big eyes she made.

“Your wish is my command.” His fingers slipped off her grey shorts and he had to stiffen his laughter as he saw her Spongebob panties.

Her face heated up and her cheeks were painted a faint rosy color. “Don’t laugh. I wasn’t expecting for this to happen.” With both of her hands, she covered up her face, clearly embarrassed. But Harry couldn't care less what she wore, in his eyes she always looked ravishing and like a goddess walking this earth.

“Don’t hide your face, love.” He moved his body up again, just to stroke her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes. “You look absolutely stunning.” The intensity of his stare made her knees weak and goosebumps run up her spine.

She nodded her head when he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Let me make you feel so pretty.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Let me make up for what happened.” He kissed the heated skin of her forehead and stroke her hair behind her ear. “Let me make you mine.”

She nodded again, but when he rose his eyebrow she expressed herself, how he requested from her. “Make me yours, Harry.” With a smirk, he kissed her lips slowly, bit onto her lip, and pulled on it, which earned him a small whimper from her. A breathy laugh left his mouth and with his right hand, he slid down her body and gripped the hem of her panties. One last time he searched for disapproval or even just hesitation in her eyes, but when he could not find that, he dove right into the action.

His hand slit into her underwear and he started to rub small circles on her clit. He was soft at first, very careful and he didn't want to destroy his flower, his little petal, who looked too good for him. Who was too good for him. She closed her eyes and through her open mouth, quiet moans slipped through it. Harry was too focused on her delicate features to pick up the speed, only when she took his hand and started grinding on it, he started to put all his energy to make her feel good.

His long fingers pinched her pulsating clit and he could feel how wet she had already gotten, as his fingers started to slip. “Do I make you feel good?” He looked at her with those dimples appearing in his cheeks and he realized at that moment that he wanted her beneath him so many more times in his life. Only her, for the rest of his life.

“Yes.”, she moaned as his finger teased her wet slit. ”I need more.”

“Tell me what you need.” She opened her eyes, looked at him pleadingly as she moaned out his name. Harry swore he could cum if he saw her like this again.

“Want you inside me.” She kissed Harry’s cheek and moved her kisses along his sharp jawline, desperately searching for his soft spot. But before she found it he held her head back, to make her look at him.

“Not today. I need to make it up to you, angel.“ With that he lowered himself until his face was right between her thighs. With anticipation she bit her lip and stared at the green eyed boy, who was slowly removing her underwear. Her face was heating up, and the electricity she felt, whenever he touched her, made her want him even more.

“God. You’re so pretty.” He admired her one last time before his hands found her swollen clit to play with. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” He moaned and felt his own pants tightening around him.

His circles became rougher and faster and she couldn’t help but grasp his hair in her fists. Low moans escaped her mouth and she couldn’t help but arch her back.

“I want to taste you so bad.” He breathed on her pussy. “Can I taste you?” He looked up from between her legs to catch a glimpse of her nodding her head in ecstasy.

“Yes, please.” It didn’t take him long until he licked her slit clean before he focused all his attention to her clit again. With his plump lips he sucked it in and swirled his tongue around it.

Y/N jolted up from the pleasure she got and tugged at his hair to pull him closer to her. He let out a breathy laugh only intensifiying her feelings when she felt his mouth vibrate against her. “Harry.” She moaned as his fingers found their way to her wet entrance. He parted her lips and buried his tongue inside her again for a quick taste before he let his fingers do their magic.

At first it was just one, then two, before he started pumping his fingers in and out of her and he kept his mouth on her clit. Sweat was forming on his forehead and Y/N tried her best to keep his hair out of his face so she could see him whenever he looked at her. Her walls started clenching around him and her legs were starting to get tired.

Harshly she gripped the mattress and tried her best not to scream when he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars.

“You’re so thight, baby.” Harry moaned after he flicked his tongue over her clit harshly and his fingers were picking up on speed. “Do you want to cum, love?” She nodded her head, eyes closed, much to Harry’s dislike. “Talk to me.” His movements came to a halt which made her thrust her hips forward desperately.

“Please, Harry.”

“Please, what?”

“Please make me cum.”

He laughed before he buried his head between her legs again and began to eat her out as if she was his last meal and she couldn’t help but let her legs shake, and those moans out, when she felt the beard scratch her on all the right places. Harry was painfully hard himself but hearing and tasting her made him almost combust in his pants.

When his fingers picked up speed and she pinched her own nipple, her walls began to thighten around him and with one last moan she let herself go. “Fuck. Harry!” She closed her eyes shut, her back arched off the white material and helplessly she tried to breathe again.

Harry watched her with such adoration in his eyes as she came down and gave her pussy one last kiss before he held her face in his hands. She didn’t care that he was still covered in her juices and smeared it in her hair.

With a playful grin he looked her up and down and once her breathing calmed down a bit she gave him a small peck on his dimple, making it deeper on his cheek. Butterflies erupted in both bellies and a giddly feeling made both of them feel warm inside. With his thumb he stroke her cheek and rested his forehead on hers again.

“Are you mine now?”

#harry style fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry x reader #bestfriends to lovers

[formenis]

From knight to detective

Anon asked: “ Can you do a scenario of L having a relationship with reader and she doesn't know that he is L and she is part of the Task Force that show up to meet L and she is unprepared for finding out he is L and when he talks to her privately he tells her everything“.

A/N: sure thing, dear. Gosh, I’m not capable of sum up...I always write too much eheh. I have to remind you English is not my first language so I apologise for the mistakes you’ll find for sure.

pairing: L x FBI agent!fem!reader

warnings: nope

requested: yes

F/P = favourite painter

S/C = skin colour

It all started during the "Wara Ningyo Murders" or -as police knew it- the "Los Angeles BB Serial Murder Cases". Y/N and Naomi Misora were friends back in the States, both of them were skilful and quite cherished in the FBI headquarters. The resulting capture of the murderer of this case helped launch Naomi's reputation within the FBI.

«So how was working with the best detective alive?» Y/N and her friend Naomi were drinking a coffee together in one of their rare spare moments far from work.

«I don’t know if I can talk about it, Y/N» Naomi replied with a sympathetic smile.

«Oh come on! At least what his voice sounds like»

«Again, I don’t know. He used voice changers during our calls. But!» she said with enthusiasm and Y/N frowned in confusion. «I met someone you would like»

«Who?»

That was when Y/N met "Ryuzaki", an enigmatic and mysterious young man who had the hobby of solving cases like private or consulting detectives. Since Y/N was a FBI agent and Ryuzaki a private detective, they would meet many times in crime scenes. The young agent felt like she was Dr. Watson and Ryuzaki was Sherlock Holmes: he would theorize many possible scenarios for the above-mentioned case and Y/N listened to him in disbelief. But Ryuzaki was not the sole smart one, Y/N had a shrewd mind too: her unique methods of investigation and her strong power of observation made her one of the best FBI agents. That was why Ryuzaki started to request her presence and assistance more often.

«Good evening, Miss L/N»

«Ryuzaki! I told you to call me Y/N. There's no need for such formalities» she chuckled quietly, the two of them were on a crime scene again.

«I apologise, force of habit I guess» Ryuzaki played with his pale lips using the thumb. Y/N understood Ryuzaki's way of communicating with his body: if he played with his lips (like he was doing in that moment) it meant he was deep in through; if he stared emotionless at something, it meant he was bothered by something; or if he ate more sweets than usual it meant that the investigations were in a turning point and his brain needed more "fuel". That was easy for Y/N to understand those things, it was her job after all.

«What are you thinking of, Ryuzaki?»

The young man seemed surprised. «Ah, it seems I don’t have secrets for you, Y/N»

She chuckled again. «Nope»

Y/N couldn’t know it but she was wrong. Terribly wrong. However, as time passed the two of them grew quite closer. Not only because of work but because they somehow matched each other. Very often Y/N would move up Ryuzaki in many things, they would think the same thing and they worried for each other during difficult and risky cases. Soon enough Y/N started to develop feeling for that weird, clever boy but she didn’t know it the feelings were mutual. Ryuzaki seemed without emotions as if nothing touched him. Even in the most terrible crime scene he would not be that shocked as anybody else.

Unaware of Y/N, there was a very simple explanation for that attitude of his: Ryuzaki was feeling overwhelmed. He was very good at not showing it but the truth was that something changed in him. At first he treated Y/N as a common FBI agent, neither kind not bad. Their relationship was purely linked to work. But then week after week, case after case, Y/N dusted a forgotten trait of his personality.

«Agent Y/N, would you like to join me in an exhibit? I heard from Miss Misora you like F/P»

«But it is private, Ryuzaki. You have to have the tickets»

«It just so happens that I have two tickets with me. The senior manager is a friend of mine»

«Really?» Y/N said surprised. «I would love to, Ryuzaki!»

Ryuzaki smiled in seeing such happiness in his cute FBI agent. The exhibit would be the perfect chance to understand if what he felt for Y/N was mutual.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Ah, the exhibit. Such a wonderful place. Y/N loved everything about it: the guide, the paintings and Ryuzaki's company of course. Moreover, it was the exhibit of F/P, Y/N's best artist. She was in bliss.

Once the guide ended the tour, the guesses could roam around the place to have a better look at each artwork. Ryuzaki expressed his approval to a specific painting, a still life to be precise. And when he noticed Y/N liked it too he started to describe the history of the said painting.

His voice enchanted Y/N. So deep despite Ryuzaki's young age and extremely alluring. She would listen to him for hours if it was possible. Y/N was so focused in it that she didn’t noticed Ryuzaki asked her something.

«Uh? What did you say?»

«I said, Y/N…are you enjoying the evening?» Ryuzaki was sitting in front of that still life in his usual position, with the legs pressed the chest. Y/N was beside him.

«Yes, a lot. Thank you Ryuzaki» she smiled kindly at him and it forced the young detective to look away. Then he started to play nervously with his lips. «Something is bothering you?»

«I have a confession to make, Y/N»

Oh dear, no. At that phrase, Y/N started to panic. Was he tired of her company? Did she do something wrong? Did he want to stop working together? So many questions span inside Y/N's mind.

«Yes?» she tried to stay as much calm as possible, hoping her voice would not betray her.

«We met a while ago and I have to admit I really appreciate your presence. Both as an agent and as a person. I would like to become closer to you, if you agree» he turned to look at her. His black eyes were much gentler than usual, his look full of…happiness? Y/N couldn’t tell.

She blushed, her face was as red as the apples in the still life painted in front of them. She noticed that Ryuzaki extended a hand waiting for her answer. «Of course, Ryuzaki»

Y/N put her hand over his and he kissed on the hand gently. This made Y/N blush even more, now she was truly one of those red apples.

And with that, they set off the beginning of their relationship. Outside work Ryuzaki was a really romantic person: he would rub Y/N's shoulders (he was really good with massages); he would play with her silky H/C hair while thinking or he would simply listen to her after a stressful day at work.

«You can call me whenever you want. Even if there's no reason to, Y/N» and «I like how your hands fit perfectly in mines» were the most romantic things Y/N heard from Ryuzaki. She even wrote them down in her personal agenda.

More time passed and December 2003 came fast. For some time now, criminals from all around the would were dying of heart attacks at an unprecedented rate and all law enforcements were concerned and scared but this. Thanks to some colleagues, Y/N learnt that the greatest detective L was mentioned in one of the many Interpol meetings.

L was considered the best detective in the world. He solved the most complex of cases, even ones that were considered unsolvable. The problem was that nobody knows who L was. And if they existed. According to Naomi Misora they were real and this L was worth their title. It was in that moment that Y/N made a decision: as a FBI agent, she would take part at that case. In Japan, people started to call the main responsible of these killings "Kira" and she couldn’t wait to start the investigations.

«Ryu, I have to tell you something…»

«What is it, Y/N?»  

They were on the phone, as often happened when the two of them had work up to their necks.

«I applied for the Kira case. I want to be a part of the task-force»

Silence.

For five minutes neither of them dared to speak. Y/N was waiting for an answer, she was chewing nervously her lips. After a while she heard a sigh.

«Y/N, it's dangerous. It's better if you stay in the States»

«But Ryuzaki! I want to be helpful! You know I can't stay here while there's some mad serial killer around the world that kills with the force of their mind»

«Y/N, such things don’t exist»

«Don’t change the topic, Ryu»

Again, silence. Y/N bet Ryuzaki was playing with his lips as much as she was chewing hers. She knew he was worried for her but she couldn’t stay at home doing nothing. She had to do something.

«Please, Y/N. Consider it again. The Kira case is too much…»

«Ryu, I'm a decorated FBI agent, I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry»

For the third time, the call fell silent. Ryuzaki was thinking for sure, Y/N could hear the soft sound of him chewing his thumb. «Promise me you'll be careful» he interrupted the silence with his usual emotionless voice.

«Of course I will»

This allowed Y/N to fly to Japan more lightweight knowing Ryuzaki was by her side despite the distance. But another big event was waiting for her: the first meeting with L.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

After many ordeals (like the death of Y/N's friend Naomi Misora), the main Japanese task-force against Kira was formed: Soichiro Yagami, Touta Matsuda, Hirokazu Ukita, Hideki Ide, Shuichi Aizawa and Kanzo Mogi. And of course Y/N L/N. It was New Year's Eve when the task-force received a message from L:

"I would like to meet the seven of you who have my trust as soon as possible. Do not speak of our meeting, or having met me, or what we will be doing, to anyone who is not in the room now.

Please leave the NPA building to discuss whether you can swear to the above, and whether you can trust me. Only those who agree to work with me in this investigation shall return to the room, and I will send my further conditions for our meeting to this computer."

That was it! The moment Y/N was waiting for a long time! As L explained in other notes left in the laptop, the entire task-force arrived at a luxury hotel where they knocked at the door of a room and were asked to enter. They were about to meet L.

"Oh gosh I'm so nervous!" Y/N though while staying behind the rest of the task-force. Her heart was racing fast and she couldn’t hide the excitement. We were talking about the greatest detective alive after all.

"I wonder…who gave them that title?"

Pink wall-to-wall carpeting, beige couches with red pillows and luxurious black doors. That was the aspect of L's room. From where Y/N was standing she could only see the furniture of that room but she petrified when she heard his voice.

«I am L»

Y/N went pale in one second. The excitement was soon replaced by fear and later by anger. But she had to be sure, she needed to see him. Maybe Y/N missed Ryuzaki to such a point that she heard his voice everywhere.

No, there must be something else. Ryuzaki's voice was too unique and peculiar to be confused with another one. There must be him for sure. And once Y/N made her way through those men, she had the certainty that she had Ryuzaki in front of her.

«Please turn off your cell phones, laptops, and any other electronic equipment you may have, and place them on the table first»

«You think we might have our cell phones on talk mode so someone outside could monitor our conversation…?» Aizawa asked quite annoyed.

"No, he hates when phones rings if he is talking…" Y/N though while doing as L said. She had to maintain a professional attitude despite she was boiling inside. She wanted to cry but to punch Ryuzaki at the same time.

«It's not that. I can't stand it when someone's cell phone rings when I'm talking» the detective replied while "sitting" in one of those fancy armchairs. «But before discussing about the case, I would rather have a talk with agent L/N in private»

The task-force moved in another part of room so Y/N and Ryuzaki would be alone. Silence filled the room, an anger and disappointed silence to be precise. They were still wearing their professional masks.

«Why didn’t you tell me…» Y/N was the first to give in. Her hands were curled into fists, the way her body tremble suggested rage or a desperate effort not to cry. L was aware Y/N was going to lose control if he didn’t explain himself.

«I couldn’t Y/N…you know very well I couldn’t»

«Of course you can! It costs nothing, Ryuzaki. Just few words!» that was it, Y/N lost control.

«What should I have said then? Something like "Hello I'm L, the greatest detective in the world and I think I developed strong feelings for you"» Y/N was going to answer back but L interrupted her by raising the index. «Everything about L is dangerous. My words, my actions, my presence…they all are dangerous for other people. That's why I work alone, Y/N»

«But you weren’t alone when we worked together» now sadness was taking place in Y/N's mind instead of anger. She felt so betrayed.

«It was different back then, Y/N. They were simple cases, neither me nor you were in danger. But this case…Kira is the symbol of danger and injustice, Y/N. I don’t want you to be involved»

«I'm already involved, Ryuzaki. And like it or not, I'm going to the bottom of this» the young FBI agent replied with determination but hot tears started to form on her eyes, clouding partially her sight. «I just…wanted you to be sincere with me» those tears fell over her smooth S/C cheeks.

L, seeing that scene in front of him, felt very bad for his Y/N. That was why he didn’t want her to be involved: he couldn’t bare crying people. But not because he hated them but because he didn’t know what to do, how to soothe that suffering. And the sight of Y/N crying in front of him broke his heart.

He stood up and walked closer to Y/N. And when he hugged her she gasped loudly, meaning she didn’t notice him approaching her. She stopped crying, yes, but sadness was still there.

«I…I'm sorry Y/N. My only intent was to protect you. I know you don’t need a knight in shining armour but when this case came out I knew I had to do something. Maybe you would hate me for the rest of your life but if it meant you would live it was alright. So please…realise there wasn’t malice in my actions»

Y/N hugged him back, smelling the sweet scent of his white shirt. The warmth of his body and the heartbeat were so calming, sadness melted in a matter of seconds. They stood there for entire minutes not moving, just appreciating each other presence.

«You're right, I don’t need a knight in shining armour…I want a detective in a white shirt»

L chuckled and that sound sent chills down Y/N's spine. Gosh, she missed that sound.

«Here I am»

«Do not keep secrets from me, Ryu»

«Never again»

#death note #l lawliet #death note scenario #death note headcanons #x reader #reader insert #x you #x y/n #naomi misora #l x reader #l x you #l x y/n

[soukokuwu]

Hi there, I really love your writing. Can you write a scenario where Dazai's black fem s/o who works at the ada and is encountered with a racist client who makes it pretty obvious that she doesn't want the s/o there because of her skin colour and s/o is feeling pretty down at it. Something similar recently happened to me so I kinda just wanna read some damn scenario about it, thanks.

HOME IS NOT A PLACE.      genre; pairing. fluff; dazai x reader      word count. 1,675      synopsis. dazai comforts you after an unnecessary hardship.      warning. brief discrimination      author notes. i’m so sorry to hear that happened to you (& i know i took very long with this, i apologise.) i’ve had similar discrimination inflicted upon me too so i hope you don’t have to experience it again & that you’re feeling better by now. <3

The nerves of some people.

A pair of chocolate beads observe silently, intensively, as the callous words spill out of thin, dry lips.

“I don’t want someone like her to serve me.”

Sip.

The old woman eyes you top to bottom.

“I demand someone else, someone... normal, at least.”

He catches the disdain in her voice. He’s sharp as a tack. Beside him the weretiger watches, cowering as he feels the ominous energy emanating from his superior. He’s seen Dazai angry, furious, but never like this. Never... silent. In this moment, the brunette is absolutely livid.

Dazai’s hands are placed on the table, balled tightly into fists. His eyes are trained on the client you’re trying to appease — she’s too wrapped up in her own head to notice him glaring. As he expects. People like that are often ignorant.

Normally he’d hate to get caught up in things like this, prefers to leave it to Kunikida, but the blonde isn’t around and it’s you she’s speaking to. He’s not going to keep mum when it comes to you. How dare someone insult his girlfriend for something that shouldn’t even matter?

Dazai loves you, he knows you’re way too nice to stand up for yourself, and Naomi is already killing herself trying to appease this witch. He notices the way your nervous fingers are fumbling with each other, the way you press your lips together to stop them from trembling, even the way your feet are tucked under the table brushing against each other. You’re scared, and your head is hung so low... you’re ashamed?

The line has been drawn a while ago. But now he absolutely can’t stay still. Not when it’s leaving you feeling so horrified.

He stands up, forcefully kicking the chair back against the wall with his knees as he does, and everyone in the room goes quiet.

All eyes are on him. His bangs are messy, covering his eyes, and lucky they are, because whatever expression lay under there it isn’t for everyone to see. Even the usually chirpy Kenji is stunned into silence, a wave of fear flashing across his features.

“Oh? Has the whiny granny finally shut up?” Dazai hums.

He’s fully aware that everyone in the room feels even more uncomfortable than before. As they should be; he doesn’t use this tone much, if at all, around them. It’s a tone most associated with who he used to be, a tone that incites a flashback to his port mafia days.

But in the midst of everything, you snap out of your seat and scurry off, your head in your hands. And Dazai watches as you run out of the office. Should he deal with the lady first? Or should he get to you? He doesn’t much know the ‘right’ ways of a relationship, but a nudge comes in from Naomi.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this,” Naomi assures him, a newly invigorated motivation after seeing his strong reaction.

Dazai mumbles a “thanks” before he excuses himself to find you — shooting one last warning glare at the old lady — and he knows just where you are.

Something cold is pressed against your cheek and you jolt. Dazai pulls it away with a chuckle and waves the cold can of juice in your face.

His features are much softer now than it was before, and you ease up a little when you realise he must be so worrried to have come up here to find you. When you take the can from him, he settles down quietly beside you and looks out at the view, and you two sit there wordlessly.

You are on the rooftop of the building right beside the ADA office. This is your hideout, a safe, convenient space for when you really need an escape from anything. And today is one of those days. Rare as they may be, you expect some people to react that way. Because sometimes humanity is flawed in the worst ways possible.

In an ideal world you wouldn’t be feeling this way. In an ideal world, everyone here would be able to accept you for who you are — not what you look like, not where you’re from. In an ideal world, you’d be free from the judgemental, free of the discrimination.

But this isn’t an ideal world. This is earth. This is life. What can you do but accept it? What else can you do other than tolerate what’s thrown at you? You think back to the harsh words spewed by the woman before — the one targeted at you because of your skin tone.

A rush of memories flood your mind.

Unwelcome looks from classmates. Sneers wherever you went in school. The way your name was associated with the sentences “why is she here?” and “she looks weird”. It was like sentencing you to be a social outcast over something you couldn’t control. You’d been forced to spend most of your schooling days alone, project groups being the bane of your existence. Where you thought it’d be an opportunity to make friends, it just gave the other kids additional chances at mocking you. The worst part was you couldn’t even talk to anyone about it. You had your doubts talking to school counsellors, they could easily be one of them. You didn’t even dream of telling your mother either, being a single mom was hard enough, you didn’t want to pile on more problems.

But it lightened up as you got older and people got more mature. Didn’t mean it stopped completely, though. You still had to welcome several unwanted glares and finger-pointing. But at least the name-calling stopped. And what you didn’t hear wouldn’t hurt you. It got better when you finally stepped out into the adult world. People were generally more accepting now, and you didn’t once feel left out in the ADA. They were all kind, for the most part, and never once did they discriminate against you. All they cared about was your work ethic, and they all generally accepted you for who you are. They didn’t give a damn what you looked like.

They accepted you for you, and that was the greatest gift they could have bestowed upon you. To the others it may have been nothing, but to you it meant everything.

There had never been a day where you were forced to confront your old fears. Until today. When that lady ever so subtly insulted you. It was like every doubt that ever crossed your mind since you were a kid came flooding back to you, the questions of whether you really belonged here, whether you should just give up and move away. But where? This is your home, for as long as you can remember.

“I love your eyes.”

Dazai’s sudden declaration stuns you, and you tilt your head towards him with a curious gaze. He isn’t teasing you, you knew that much. If he was, he would wear that wide, silly grin of his. No, this time his smile is… endearing, comforting.

“I love the way your smile reaches your eyes.”

A pair of hands reach out to cup your cheeks, and you can feel yourself getting nervous. He usually never speaks his feelings. Why is he doing this now?

“Look at me, belladonna,” he coaxes, and you listen. You’re met with earnest chocolate eyes, and you keep looking into them, even as they inch closer and closer towards you. He stops the moment the tip of his nose touches yours, and you feel your breath hitch at your throat.

“You are a beautiful person, my love,” he assures you, voice low and steady. His eyes are still staring straight into yours, and you can just make out his beautiful hair flowing in the breeze. “I’ve thought that ever since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

You chuckle, remembering the first day you stepped foot in the ADA office. Dazai had stumbled over all googly-eyed and took your hand, already confessing his future love with you. And he was right, because look at you now. And all the sounds muffle together as you continue gazing at your boyfriend as he lists down all the things he loves about you. From things as small as how your hands feel in his to the way he absolutely loves how he can be completely himself (or as much as he can be) around you.

“Shut up.”

Without even thinking, you find yourself tilting heavenward, pressing your lips onto his. It’s something he welcomes, by the way, his hands moving from your cheek to your neck and kissing you deeper.

You know exactly what he means by saying all of that. And you find it cute, how his way of comforting you is quite a roundabout, yet why does it still work? But you find the answer when you pull away, that first moment when you open your eyes — really open your eyes — and meet his. He’s right.

That lady’s opinion didn’t matter. It hurts, you know he’s not invalidating it, but he just knows talking about it further would just frustrate you more. Besides, he’s been with you long enough to know; if you want to, you would talk about it, and he would listen. As he always does. Even when it’s about things you considered trivial or stupid, he always gives you the time of day, always tries to make everything better.

He’s right — she doesn’t matter. To you, the one that matters most, is him. And you’re grinning silly just thinking of just how much he loves you, and how easily he makes you feel better with just his words. The lady and her biting remarks are well behind you now, as he envelops you in his arms, giving you an important confirmation: Dazai would always have your back, would always protect you.

Because you can have a myriad of doubts, but one thing is for sure.

Dazai is your home.

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @smoochi-dazai @animatedarchives

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd oneshot #bsd scenarios #rachwrote #bsd dazai osamu #bsd dazai x reader #bsd dazai osamu x reader #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bsd dazai fluff #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai oneshot #bsd dazai imagines #bsd dazai scenario #bungo stray dogs oneshot #bungou stray dogs oneshot #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs scenario #bungou stray dogs scenario

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Can u do a ethan x mc proposal but it does not go as planned but finally he proposes and she accepts please😁😁

“I’m not letting you plan date night anymore, because you give the most vague answers,” Naomi yells, her voice coming through string from the en-suite.

“I gave you very adequate information,” Ethan argues.

“You and I have different interpretations then. You won’t tell me where we’re going, you barely gave me a dress code.”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who’s always saying that you look good in everything, no matter the occasion?”

Ethan nervously pats his jacket pocket for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. The small black ring box from Harry Winston is still there, and a bit of his anxiety ebbs away.

The ring has been burning a hole through his proverbial pocket from the moment it was purchased. There have been multiple occasions that Ethan has had to stop himself from blurting out, “Will you marry me?” to his unsuspecting girlfriend: while they’re eating dinner, on their way to work, in the middle of their dumb bickering.

So he’s been meticulously planning this proposal for 2 months now, and he has everything planned to a tee. It starts with dinner at one of Naomi’s favorite seafood restaurants downtown (he has an in with the owner and head chef), then they take a stroll through Boston Common and the Public Garden, admiring the ducks, smelling the roses before he eventually proposes. Ethan is a perfectionist and he wants the night to be perfect. He wants something they can look back on 10 years from now, 20 years from now with fondness, because Naomi deserves nothing less than that.

“I look amazing no matter the occasion,” Naomi quips. She steps out of the en-suite, and Ethan catches her slipping on a few bracelets. “But are we going to be by the water? Are these heels appropriate? Will I need a jacket?”

Ethan looks her up and down quickly, deciding that the faux leather skirt and sweater she’s wearing is a good enough outfit. “You look great, and the weather is perfect, you don’t need a jacket.”

“You better not just be saying that to rush me out the front door.”

That’s a good point, and one he hadn’t thought of yet. Ethan checks the time on his watch and inhales sharply. Their reservation is in 40 minutes, and it’s a Saturday night in Boston, so he expects congestion downtown. “Speaking of that, we need to go.”

“Alright, give me a few more minutes, Ramsey.”

“No, we need to go now, Naomi.”

Naomi knows her boyfriend is a stickler for order, but he’s been riding her ass all day over this date night. He’s never been this fussy before.

She saunters over to him, making a point to sway her hips as she does so. As soon as she’s within touching distance, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist as he pulls her close.

“We’re going to have a nice night tonight,” Naomi says. She presses her thumb to his forehead and massages away the worry lines. “You made me get all dolled up, and I flat ironed my hair, so I’m willing it into existence in hopes that my effort was not in vain.” Ethan doesn’t say anything but the corner of his mouth flits up, and Naomi counts it as a smile. “Now, can you stop being such a fuddy duddy?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at her immature vocabulary, but he nods nonetheless. “Only for you.”

“Good.” Naomi gives him a quick peck on the lips and pulls away before he can deepen it. “Now, let me put on my shoes and we can head out.”

~v~

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any reservations for Ethan Ramsey tonight.”

As soon as the words leave the host’s mouth, Ethan feels the blood in his veins pulsing with rage. There’s no way that’s possible, seeing as he made the reservation well over a month ago. 

“Check again,” Ethan grits out. The host stammers a bit, but he listens to the command nonetheless.

Naomi bites the inside of her cheek as she watches the scene play out in front of her. Ethan’s using his attending voice, the voice reserved for combative patients and interns.

“Again, there’s no reservation for you,” the host stammers. “Maybe, you picked a different–”

The young guy doesn’t even get to finish that thought, because Ethan shoots him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

“I didn’t ask for you to come up with any ideas on your own,” Ethan says, his jaw clenching so tight, it's a miracle it doesn’t snap. “What I need you to do is simply call Frank and tell him that Ethan Ramsey wants to speak with him.”

Frank, the owner of the restaurant and a former patient of Ethan’s, should be able to sort this all out.

A few minutes later, Ethan spots Frank walking towards the front of the restaurant. The two men lock eyes and Frank stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Ethan. He quickly schools his features, plastering a wide smile on his face before he approaches.

“Dr. Ramsey, so lovely to see you!”

Ethan isn’t feeling as friendly. He doesn’t return the smile or the pleasantries, just taking a few confident strides over to Frank, ushering him to a quiet corner. “Frank, remember when I personally spoke to you over a month ago and I told you I planned to propose tonight? I told you I wanted a reservation, and you told me that you’d personally see to it that I have the best seat in the house?”

Frank swallows hard and averts his gaze. Looking into the eyes of a pissed off Ethan Ramsey is something like staring at Medusa head-on. “I did say that, yes,” he concedes.

“So flash forward to tonight, why am I being told that there’s no reservation?”

“I apologize, Doctor. There’s clearly been a breakdown of communication between myself and my staff, and I take full responsibility.”

“As you should!” Ethan snaps. His voice goes up an octave, and a few patrons of the restaurant turn in his direction, startled by the outburst.

Okay, so being 38 years old and throwing a tantrum in public isn’t his best look. Taking a deep breath, Ethan counts to 3 and tries to regain his composure. So there’s no reservation, but maybe there’s a way this night can be salvaged.

“Well, just give us an available table, any one will do,” Ethan says. Franks wrings his hands together and Ethan doesn’t like the sight of it one bit.

“Unfortunately, we are fully booked for the evening.” Ethan’s nostrils flare and there’s a slight ringing in his ears at the admission. “But I can squeeze you in next weekend, at any time you want! And for the inconvenience, it’ll be on the house for you and the lovely lady.”

“If you think I’m ever stepping foot in this place ever again, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Ethan walks off and takes Naomi’s hand. She looks up at him, her gaze soft. “What happened?”

“They somehow forgot I made a reservation for tonight,” Ethan grumbles. “And we can't get a table because it’s packed. I’m sorry.”

Naomi frowns and squeezes Ethan’s hand. “Well it’s not your fault, so you don’t have to apologize to me. It’s their loss. I’m sorry because it’s clear that you put a lot of thought into this date night.”

She doesn’t even know the half of it, Ethan thinks to himself.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Naomi adds, tugging on her boyfriend.

“Where are we going?”

“A place with a lot less pomp and circumstance.”

They end up in a hole in the wall lobster shack near the harbor, eating lobster rolls and sharing a bowl of clam chowder. They’re the most overdressed couple visiting the establishment, earning interesting stares from the other patrons.

“You and I are slightly overdressed,” Ethan teases, awkwardly tugging the collar of his button-down.

Naomi looks around and then at herself before laughing. “I think I’m going to keep a spare change of clothes in your car just for nights like this. But I think we look very good. It’s always nice to not have to wear scrubs.”

“Again, I’m sorry about the reservation at Frank’s not working out. I know it’s one of your favorite restaurants.”

“True, but I’ll survive. For now, I’m content just being here with you.” Ethan watches as Naomi opens a pack of saltine crackers, crushes them in the palm of her hand and pours them into the bowl of chowder. He pulls a face, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by the young resident.

“I can feel you judging me, Ramsey,” Naomi says.

“I’m just observing your messy eating habits, Valentine,” he shoots back. He briefly wonders if she’ll want to keep her maiden name. Will she stay Dr. Valentine? Dr. Ramsey? Dr. Valentine-Ramsey? It’s an outdated tradition, adopting a new last name upon marriage, but the thought of her becoming Naomi Ramsey makes him excited. It rolls off the tongue rather nicely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at her, but now Naomi is looking back at him. “Hello, earth to Ethan.”

It snaps him out of his daze and he blinks a few times in an attempt to regain his bearings. “Huh?”

“You keep staring at me. Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re fine. I guess I just got caught up in looking at you.”

Even though the lighting in the lobster shack is dim, Ethan can still see the apples of Naomi’s cheeks turning red.

While things at the restaurant didn’t turn out like he planned, this, just being here with Naomi as she devours the clam chowder that they were supposed to share, feels extremely right.

His hand tingles and the urge to whip out the ring box, right here, right now is strong. Just do it!

Don’t even think about it!

Stop being an idiot and ask her already!

The tiny voice in his head only grows louder the more seconds tick on. Impulsively, he reaches forward and grabs Naomi’s hand, stopping her from bringing her spoon to her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Naomi says back. “But can you not grab my hand while I’m trying to eat?”

Ethan drops her hand quickly, flushing as he does so. “I wanted to take you out tonight because I wanted to celebrate with you. This past year and a half has been–”

“Help! Help!”

The shrill cry cuts Ethan short and he head snaps around to find the source of the noise. He sees a woman frantically standing over a coughing man. The man is clutching his throat, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. He’s choking.

Naomi and Ethan lock eyes with each other before they both abandon their table and rush forward to help, never able to turn off the fact that they’re doctors.

Ethan sighs, as the moment has been thoroughly ruined. So maybe proposing in the lobster shack won’t be happening.

~v~

So dinner was a bust two times over for the evening, but Ethan tries his hardest to stay optimistic. It’s a beautiful night, the weather is calm, and the Common is surprisingly sparse for a weekend night, so he and Naomi don’t have to deal with too many people.

“This has been an eventful night,” Ethan says.

“You mean you don’t get turned away from a 4-star restaurant and then perform the Heimlich on lobster shack patrons every day?”

“No, it’s usually one or the other. More of the life saving, less getting turned away at restaurants.”

“Well, at least I’ll have an interesting story to tell my friends at work.”

They stop at a bench, right in front of the giant weeping willow, Naomi’s favorite part of the park and sit down. She rests her head on his shoulder, sighing deeply.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already?”

“It was a long week at work,” Naomi says, feeling the need to defend herself. “My boss has been working me like crazy. Not to mention, it’s been a busy day.”

Ethan chuckles and kisses the top of her head, inhaling the scent of shampoo. “Your boss sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Yes, but I let him get away with it because I love him.”

“He’s sounds like a lucky man.”

“He is.”

A family of ducks trots past their feet, earning a few coos and smiles from Naomi, though she otherwise leaves them alone to roam.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of them, neither one of them deeming it necessary to speak. Finally after all of the chaos the past few hours threw at them, it’s nice to just sit in quiet.

Is now finally a good time? Ethan thinks to himself. Surely nothing else can impede on the proposal, as the universe has screwed with him enough for one night.

The wind picks up slightly, a strong gusts makes a few tendrils of Naomi’s hair fly into her face, and she huddles closer to him, trying to steal his body heat. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, holding her tight against him.

“I’ve been driving myself crazy all day trying to think of a way to broach this with you,” Ethan starts, breaking the silence.

“Broach what?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. Mostly about us, especially with you being in your third year of residency, and how our future might look because of that.”

The hair on the back of her neck stands up, but Naomi doesn’t fully know why. Why does Ethan want to talk about their future? Why did he feel the need to take her out on the date in order to start the conversation?

The wind picks up again, and this time, Naomi hears thunder clap somewhere close by. “Is it supposed to rain tonight?”

“What? No.” Ethan checked the weather more times than he’d care to admit. It’s supposed to be a perfect evening in Boston.

“Are you sure?” 

Naomi sounds skeptical, and Ethan huffs. “Rookie, trust me, if there’s one thing I’ve done today, it’s check weather reports.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Ethan feels it. A single drop of moisture hits his cheek.

It doesn’t take long after that first raindrop for the others to come. In a quick burst, the rain falls, harsh and heavy.

Naomi shrieks and stands up, trying to look for shelter. Ethan isn’t as quick as she is, as he’s still stuck on the fact that it’s raining.

The pure absurdity of the day is so ridiculous, and a low chuckle forms low in his throat until he’s actually laughing. He laughs hard, the force of it actually making him clutch his side.

Ethan looks up at the sky, uncaring that the rain is pelting him relentlessly. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Ethan, what are you doing?” Naomi asks. “You’re going to get soaked!”

“My car is on the other side of the park, we’re going to get soaked regardless.”

“So you want to, what? Just sit in the rain?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, now isn’t the time for petulance,” Naomi says. She grabs Ethan’s hand and tries to tug him up, but he doesn’t budge.

“No. I have spent weeks trying to plan the perfect date for you, and it’s been a shitshow from start to finish. For some reason, the universe has decided that today isn’t my day, so instead of fighting it, I’m going to lean into it.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan has been beating himself up over this night not going the way he wanted it to, and she doesn’t understand why. Yes, Naomi likes fancy restaurants as much as the next girl, but she’s never been a high maintenance diva, nor has she ever demanded that Ethan be perfect. 

“Why have you been putting so much pressure on tonight?” Naomi asks.

“For you!”

“I never asked you to! Now stop being such a baby and let’s go home!”

Ethan sighs and drudges himself up. His now soaking wet clothes make the task more difficult than it should be as now he feels 10 pounds heavier.

“I’m not being a baby,” Ethan argues.

“You’re acting like one.”

“You’re a blanket hog.”

The statement is so random, it makes Naomi do a double take. “What?”

“You’re a blanket hog,” Ethan repeats. “And you always put your freezing cold feet on mine when we’re in bed. You have a terrible singing voice, but I love listening to you when we’re at home. Your grooming products have completely taken over my bathroom, and it’s fine, because I love the smell of whatever fruity shower gel you use. You spend way too much time watching inaccurate medical dramas for a woman that graduated top of her class at Johns Hopkins. You steal my food, as evidenced by the fact that you completely hijacked the clam chowder we were sharing. You drive me insane, and it’s been that way from the moment we met, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because I love you.”

“I love the way your nose crinkles when you smile. I love the way you speak French when you’re mad at me. I love that you spoil Jenner. I love how passionate you are and how you’re willing to fight for people you care about, especially your patients. I love that you aren’t afraid to challenge me, whether it’s about work or something at home. I love that you have always believed in me, even when I was so stupid to believe in myself.”

Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small ring box before dropping down on one knee. Just seeing him do that is enough to earn a gasp of shock from Naomi.

“Ethan?” She can’t breathe. She can’t think. The only thing Naomi can hear is the sound of her beating heart. “What’s in the box?”

“What do you think is in the box?”

“I think it’s an engagement ring.” With trembling fingers, Ethan slowly opens the box, revealing the stunning 4 carat cushion cut diamond.

“You’d be correct.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

“Oh no. After all the trouble I went through, you have to let me get through my entire speech.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t see you coming at all. I wasn’t looking for love when you came into my life, and I was quite content being single. But little by little, you broke through and made yourself a permanent fixture in my life, and I’ve been all the better for it. You have all of me, mind, body, and soul, and usually the thought of relinquishing so much control terrifies me, but not with you. You are smart, and kind, and outspoken, and beautiful, and compassionate, and I don’t know what I did in this lifetime or the last one to deserve you, but I intend on spending the rest of my days being someone worthy of you. So, Naomi Marie Valentine, will you marry me?”

The tears are flowing freely, and Naomi can hardly see anymore, but she nods nonetheless. “Y-yes!”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

Ethan doesn’t waste another second, plucking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto Naomi’s left ring finger. Once the ring is securely on, he stands up and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her into the air slightly.

As soon as her feet are back on the ground and she’s steady again, Naomi grabs Ethan’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Neither of them seem to mind the fact that it’s still pouring, the cold rain seeping through their clothes.

“I love you,” Naomi says quickly, before pulling Ethan into another kiss.

“I love you too.”

“And though things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to, this proposal was perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Because of this, I got my cliche kiss in the rain.”

Ethan smiles. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “That’s true.”

“And think about it, I think this will be a much more interesting story to tell our future kids someday.”

“You make some excellent points, future Missus Ramsey.”

A thrill courses through her at the name. “Mhmm, I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because that’s what I’m going to be calling you for the rest of our lives.”

~v~

Tags: @aylamreads @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey 

#my asks #playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices: open heart #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey #my requests

[youllneverknowrac]

Oscar Diaz-Toxic Pt.2

I don’t know why I love writing these toxic scenarios so much lol. It’s so fun to write the arguing scenes. I think there is something wrong with me.

~

Oscar was currently out, riding around doing who knows what so it gave you the perfect amount of time to get ready and sneak out to link up with Naomi. Or so you thought. You just so happen to end up walking out of the house as soon as your boyfriends red car turns into the drive way,”Where you think you going dressed like that?” He asks as he climbs out quickly and glances at you and then to Naomi’s parked car in the street,”Is that yo little friends whip? You said you were done with them, now I catch you trying to sneak off before I get home? Dressed like some puta at that.” He scoffs as he slowly walks towards you,”Get yo ass back in the house, you ain’t going any where.” He tells you sternly, just as Naomi honks her horn.

“Oscar, she’s my friend. She was my friend way before we became a thing.” You try to explain,”We just want to grab a few drinks. I won’t stay out all night this time.”

“Nah, I don’t care Y/N. You need to get back inside. Now.”

It takes a lot for you to keep your cool, he was getting on your last nerve with his recent possessive asshole behavior. Sure it was fun in the bedroom but not in real life situations. You deserve to be able to go out! Just like he does! So that’s why you stand your ground and tilt your nose up at him,”No. I’m going out with my friend tonight. I’m not going to go back and forth with you.”

“Did you just say no?”

“Yup. And I mean it, I’ll see you in a little bit.” You shrug as you spin around on your heels,”Bye.” You call out over your shoulder.

“If you go, I’m done with yo ass for real.” He threatens, just like he always did. You knew as much as he did that you two weren’t going anywhere but it still stung that he could say that with such ease,”I mean it! I’ll go get me a new girl. One that has fucking respect for me!”

“Aight bet, go find you a new chick.” You say as you quickly turn around and walk back up to him,”She ain’t gonna deal with half the shit I put up with. Go on if you want to, cause guess what Oscar. I can have any guy I want, one little call and I’ll have my ex wrapped around my finger.” You say with a head tilt,”All this bull shit cause I want to go out with my friend. I’m over this shit.” You scoff more to yourself than to him,”You have been with Sad Eyez practically every night, so why is it a issue when I want to go out?”

“It’s a issue because I say it is. What me and my brothers do is business, something you don’t even need to be concerned about.”

“Fuck that, I’m your girl ain’t I? I’m going to be concerned and don’t be sly about what you do with your homies. I know they are all single, so that means y’all be having hynas around. I’m not dumb Oscar.”

“Nah you don’t know what the fuck you talking about and you ain’t my girl if you get in that car.” He shrugs,”Little street walker, go on then. Them streets calling yo name mamas.”

You can’t help but laugh at him, finding this whole situation annoying and amusing at the same time,”I sure am for the streets. The streets are my home.” You agree with ease,”Let me go get to them then before it gets to late.”

“Yo shit will be packed and ready for you.” He warns, watching you walk off with out another word,”Grimey ass! Don’t come back here!” He shouts before waving his hand in dismissal and heading inside.

“What the fuck was all that?” Naomi asks with a raised eyebrow,”He okay?”

“No, it’s Oscar. He’s always pissed off about something.” You tell her with clipped tone as you pull on your seatbelt.

“Why is he such a Debby downer! We don’t need no bad vibes over here. We are getting turnt tonight.” Your best friend groans as she speeds off before going into a conversation about one of the newer Santo members that she recently hooked up with.

~

After arriving at the bar, you let Naomi wander off after you guys got seated. She wanted to mingle and you were okay with that since you were busy arguing with Oscar over text.

*You foul. How you just gonna leave me?* He sends,*You really tried to sneak off on me?! Ha! Yo ass got caught.*

*You were being a asshole and I knew if I told you I was going out you still would have been against me coming.*

*Yeah I would have! Wanna know why? Cause I bet if I pull up right now you two are gonna be surrounded by guys. You love the attention don’t ya? Witcho thirsty ass.*

*Actually I’m sitting by myself because like always you’re trying to ruin my night. Cry baby ass boy. Such a cry baby that you have a stupid tear tattooed on your stupid face.*

*Aight smart ass, we throwing low blows? You know what this tattoo means. Don’t get it twisted. You must have me confused for some other foo. Why you still texting me? Go entertain them dudes you with.*

*Oh you’re so hard. I’m so scared.* You reply as you feel a presence take a seat across from you,*I don’t have time for this right now Oscar and I will gladly entertain them cause I’m single at this point. You do you and I’ll do me.* You double text before putting your phone inside the small clutch.

“You good ma? I see you over here with your head buried in your phone. You ain’t having a good time?” A deep voice says as you look up to take in the man in front of you. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good. He was on the shorter side but he was muscular and had some weight on him. Not to mention the fact that he was covered from head to toe in tattoos. He was definitely somebody you’d be attracted to back in the day, however since you met Oscar nobody can compare to him in your eyes.

“Oh hi.” You smile and meet his gaze,”I am having a good time, I just got caught up with something. What about you? Are you having a good time?”

“I am. Are you here by yourself?” He questions,”That can’t be any fun.”

“No, I’m here with my friend...she’s right over there.” You say after scanning the bar and pointing her out,”The short red head.”

“Oh so it’s a girls night out then? I don’t mean to interrupt.” He smirks

“You’re fine.” You smile,”You’re not interrupting anything.”

“That’s what’s up then, I’m Sergio by the way and you are?” He asks and holds his hand out for you to take.

“Y/N.” You smile and reach across to shake his hand, Naomi coming over seconds later and glancing in between the two of you.

“Hi. Naomi here, her best friend.” She says with a large smile before whispering in your ear,”Are you single tonight or que?”

“Seems like it.” You giggle awkwardly as you keep eye contact with your new male companion,”So I take it your not here alone then?”

“Nah, I’m with a few of my homies. We got a little section in the back over there. I actually came over here to ask if you wanted to join us. The both of you.” He explains as he stands up with a small slap on the table,”What do y’all say?”

“She’s down.” Naomi agrees eagerly,”We are both down.”

“Sure.” You laugh as you stand up,”Only if you have bottles though.” You joke

“Oh baby, I got henny, vodka, patron. Whatcha want to sip on tonight?” He asks as he leads the way over to the rented out sections.

“Aye I’m down with all of that.” You shrug, you weren’t nearly this talkative when it came to meeting new people but Oscar was getting on your nerves and you wanted to have a little fun. Besides it’s not like he’s going to find out, you didn’t even tell him where you went. Not to mention the fact that you just ‘broke up’ with him. As far as you’re concerned you’re single for the night. If he’s allowed to do it to you, you can do the same to him. You grab a hold of Sergios arm as he pushes through the crowd, Naomi doing the same and grabbing your hand,”You can make me a drink since y’all got all these bottles.”

He smiles down at you when he feels your touch,”I got you girl, don’t even worry.”

“Make sure it’s strong though. I ain’t with that weak shit.”

“Shit, don’t have to tell me twice.” He chuckles,”Double shot for yo ass it is. What about you, you drinking?” He asks back at Naomi.

“Hell yeah but I’ll ask one of your little friends to make my drink.” She jokes, all three of you laughing.

“That’s a bet. I’m sure one of them will gladly do that. You have your pick.” He grins as he comes to a stop in front of a round booth, three equally tatted up guys sitting down at it.

“That’s Zay, Jojo, and that’s Reggie.” He introduces.

“Ladies.”

“What’s up?”

“Nice to meet ya.” They all speak, letting Naomi slide in first before you do the same. Sergio getting in last as he presses up against your side. He reaches for the clear liquor and begins to make you a drink as you all get to know each other a bit more. It’s not long before all of you guys are a bit tipsy, you and Sergio getting a bit handsy at one point. Nothing to serious, just the casual arm around the shoulder or hand on the thigh.

“Aye what time is it? Aren’t they closing soon?” Naomi slurs, the last call for drinks being shouted through out the bar.

“Damn, it’s already 2. Fuck it we can go to a after hours club.” Jojo says as he finishes off the bottle of henny in one swing.

“2?” You ask as you search for your phone in your clutch,”Damn.” You say to yourself as you see all the missed calls and text from Oscar.

“Yo man blowing you up?” Sergio asks with a smug look as he sees all the notifications on your bright phone screen.

“He’s not my man right now...I think.” You admit honestly.

“Aye, I ain’t judging.” He shrugs while holding his hands up,”I will judge you if you don’t take another shot though.” He laughs as he reaches for the patron and waves the bottle in front of you.

“Why? You can’t handle anymore?” You tease as you take it from him and bring it to your lips, taking a bit more than expected as you scrunch up your face after,”I shouldn’t have done that.” You giggle, already knowing you were at your limit. It didn’t take long for the liquor to hit you. Your vision slightly blurry and everything around you making you laugh. It’s not till a lit song comes on that you and Naomi get up and dance in the little section. Your friend recording everything and posting it without double checking the footage. Which is how Oscar found out where you were and who you were with, Naomi accidentally getting you throwing it back on Sergio for a few seconds before you bust out in laughter.

Oscar stands up from the couch so fast after watching her Snapchat that his homies follow suit,”We gotta roll out.” He barks as he picks up his gun off the coffee table and tucks it in the waistband of his pants.

“What’s wrong foo? Something happen on the block?” Sad Eyez asks worriedly

“Nah but something bout to happen.” He answers as he heads to the front door,”I’m bout to catch another case. My girl got me fucked up.”

#spooky diaz #spooky x reader #netflix on my block #on my block imagines #netflix #freeridge #omb #on my block season 3 #one shot #omb season 3 #oscar diaz #oscar diaz x reader

[aarcanechaoss]

☆ DAD!? BoYfRiEnD!? ☆

Kosuke was nervous, what could she say having her quite protective father meet her quite careless boyfriend... what could go wrong? She could only hope they would get along.

Osamu didn’t have nerves, worries yes but nerves he honestly thought being nervous was behind him until he realised he was meeting his partners father. He hoped whoever Mr Fukuzawa was he was nice and didn’t mind how excentric he would be. Mr Fukuzawa?

Yukichi wasn’t a stone cold man, protective yes but cold no. He would smile down at the picture of his daughter, he couldn’t call her little anymore she was only a few centimetres shy of being as tall as him but she was growing up fast.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Dazai stop dozing off and pay attention to the work on your desk.” Kunikida yelled as he slapped the dark haired man upside the head. Dazai fell forward and smacked his head against his desk.

“Uh Dazai?” Atsushi said worriedly.

“What is it when your chest feels on fire and your stomach fills with butterflies?” Dazai asks.

“Are you sick?” Kenji calls out- Yosano turns to him with an evil glint.

“No just... I’m meeting Ko’s father tonight.”

“Oh you are? Have you never met him before?” Naomi calls out. “Also can we meet her at some point?”

“Nope. Like I said meeting him tonight.” Dazai sighed. “Uh maybe.”

“What about her mother?” Junichiro tilts his head.

“It’s just her and her dad she doesn’t know her mother... before Kunikida opens his mouth yes I have been dating her for nearly a year and not yet met him- we are both busy but I’m meeting him tonight.... I guess I’m nervous.”

“Dazai.. nervous?” Atsushi muttered.

Suddenly the brunette stood and smiled.

“Time to go- Ko wants me home early.” Dazai smiles. “Will let you all know how it goes.”

“Please do!” Some one called out.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“President!” Kunikida yelled as the silver haired man stepped through the door.

“I will be on my way out finish any work needed and head home.” He smiled.

“Yes sir. It’s just paperwork and everything should be done as soon as possible.” Kunikida answered.

“Good to here. Have a good evening I have a young man to go scare.” The president let out a deep chuckle.

“Pardon President?” Junichiro asked.

“Oh my daughter, I’m meeting her boyfriend- goodbye everyone.” Fukuzawa laughed again as he left.

“The president has a daughter!?” Naomi called out, Kunikida stood with his jaw dropped.

“The president has daughter and Dazai has a girlfriend.” Atsushi mused... his eyes widened. “Hey guys-“

“Yeah?” The detectives responded.

“Is there a small chance Ko is the president’s daughter and dating Dazai... Dazai is meeting her father and the president is meeting his daughters boyfriend?” Atsushi pondered. The room fell deadly quiet leaving only the sound of Ranpo eating his snacks. “Ranpo?”

“The president’s daughter is named Kosuke.” Is what he says. “She’s a mirror image of her father- I met her when the agency was forming.”

The agency fell silent again with only one question in mind- if it’s true will Dazai live to see tomorrow?

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Kosuke.” Dazai pouted and dug his face further into the silver haired woman’s neck.

“Yes Osamu?” She hummed.

“I want attention.” He whined.

“My love when don’t you want attention?” She giggled. Dazai’s arms tightened around her waist pulling her back flush against his chest. She giggled again and gave his arm a pat as she continued to finish setting up dinner.

“Yeah but you are so focused on your dinner and stuff that I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” She placed the last of the cutlery on the table and spun in her lovers arms, her own wrapping around his neck as they nuzzled noses.

“Still want a kiss from me?”

“Always.” He breathed pressing his lips against hers, leading her towards a wall. Their lips fit together perfectly, his hands fit perfectly with her own it was like her body was half of his to create a perfect whole- he loved her he truely did.

“That’s enough love.” He pouted as he rested his forehead against hers. “Go get cleaned up dad should be here soon.”

“But Ko..”

“If you do well with dad I’ll give you a special present later.” She winked and off he went excited and merry. She laughed and shook her head.

A knock sounded at the door- her father was here. The door swung open to show a silver haired man, his metallic eyes glimmering in the harsh light of her apartment- she really was a mirror image of her father.

“Dad!” She exclaimed wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Sunflower how are you?” He grinned.

“I’m great.”

“Where is the boyfriend?”

“Osamu dad is here!” She called out. “Sorry he was just in the bathroom washing up.” Kosuke let her father inside and ducked behind him to shut and lock the door.

Osamu? The president raised a brow at the name, now wouldn’t that be funny if~

“President!” A familiar voice started Yukichi from his thoughts and at first he was shocked- why was Dazai in his daughters apartment... oh... OH.

“Dazai?”

Dazai on the other hand his mind was racing Fukuzawa that name should have clicked much... much earlier in the relationship than it did. Yukichi’s eyes widened at Dazai’s appearance, he had on his usual outfit without his trench coat and most importantly without his bandages for his eyes to notice many many marks... he was comfortable in this apartment.

Kosuke turned to see her father and boyfriend in a confused-frightened-worried-nervous stare down. Then it clicked.

“Oh shit Osamu why didn’t you tell me you worked for my dad?”

“Why didn’t you tell me your dad was my boss?”

“Why did neither of you tell me you were dating specifically.” Yukichi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How about we sit down and eat before the food gets cold okay?” Kosuke’s voice raised in pitch as she asked. They all sat at the table and slowly began to dig in.... shit it was awkward.

“So dad.” He hummed. “How was your day?”

“My day was good. Not much to do though mostly drank tea, looked over new assignments and signed paper work though I did see a fluffy cat outside the apartment.” Yukichi said fondly.

“Oh that’s Mrs Nakamoto’s cat Whisky... yah I made the same face dad.” Kosuke laughed trying to ease the tension. “I’m going to be adopting that cat we were talking about Osamu. I finally got the paperwork through.”

“We can officially get Bella.” Dazai’s eyes widened- Yukichi watched Kosuke fondly whilst offering tiny glares towards Dazai but more or less he was happy for them.

“You should get a second one later and name it Donna.” Yukichi said seriously. Kosuke snorted and began laughing so hard her stomach hurt. Osamu laughed quietly. “Now... May I say something serious~ I have to say something fatherly now don’t I?” He smiled.

Osamu gulped. He just had big flashing lights in his mind screaming ‘He will kill you! You are dead! RIP Osamu Dazai didn’t even get to make Kosuke, Kosuke Dazai’ - not that that was going to happen for at least another year.

“I don’t expect you to drop formalities with me at work Dazai but since Kosuke is clearly happy with you I cannot refute or disagree even if I did disapprove.” Kosuke’s eyes widen, “Don’t worry I don’t. He’s careless yes but you both clearly care for each other. I’m still your boss but I’m also your partners father so I give you permission to drop formalities you may call me Yukichi instead of President or Mr Fukuzawa.”

“Thank-you pres- Yukichi. I think it’s safe to say Osamu is fine for you to address me as. I won’t hurt her ever never intentionally and hopefully never unintentionally either. I love her.. I love you Ko.” Dazai held his hand out across the table for the older man to shake. “This is a little awkward I will say that no offence is to be made but Ko you are near identical to your father.”

Kosuke started laughing again and nodded.

“Yeah we get that a lot.” Yukichi’s eyes were drawn towards his daughters neck- he hadn’t noticed earlier but she didn’t have her bandage on around her neck- she truely trusts and loves Osamu Dazai and that’s good enough for him.... but if dead Uncle Mori found out, hmm.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The next day Dazai had stumbled into work tired, disheveled and kind of dopey. His shirt was messy and the bags under his eyes indicated a strong strong lack of sleep.

“Is Dazai okay?” Haruno asked after watching the man stumble around for a few hours now.

“Hmm? Yes I’m fine.”

“Damn was her old man that scary?” Kunikida laughed.

“Oh no we got along quite well after a few minutes of awkwardness.” Dazai perked up and fixed his shirt, leaving his hair a tangled mess. “I just got a present for being good is all.” He winked.

“What is her dad like?”

“Uh well-“

“Osamu.” Yukichi smiled as he entered the angency office. The agents looked to the pair in question- is Dazai in trouble why did the president use his first name? Where they right about him and the president?

“Oh more Yukichi- President sorry.”

“It’s fine. Ranpo my daughter will be dropping off those sweets you asked for.” The president said.

“Yay Kosuke!”

“Speak of the devil and I shall appear.” The woman who walked in- Ranpo wasn’t kidding when he said she looked like the president.

“Hey Koko.” The Great Detective calked our as she handed him his box of sweets.

“I thought I was going to be late but I arrived as the shop opened so I just zoomed over. Hi everyone I’m Kosuke Fukuzawa.” The woman had a nice rich voice and a pleasant smile.

“Ko.” Dazai grinned and jumped towards her. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“You pout like a small child love.”

Beat

“EH! Love!” The agents yelled.

“Yeah this is my girlfriend.” Dazai’s shit eating grin was evident and sent the other agents into a spin. Ranpo, Yukichi, Kosuke and Osamu began to laugh.

“Your coworkers are strange.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Yukichi gave Kosuke a pat on the head before walking to his office. “Goodbye.”

#bsd #Bungou Stray Dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #kosuke fukuzawa #Osamu Dazai #Dazai x oc #yukichi fukuzawa #bsd oc

[cosmicstardustcastiel]

15x18 Coda, drabble, wishful thinking...

Dean sat where Cas had left him, back up against the brick wall of the dungeon. Hours may have passed but that seemed irrelevant. His mind was in a fog of shock, still trying to process what had just happened here. He felt his phone vibrate against the concrete floor several times but it was like a gnat in the back of his mind. He couldn’t focus. His body felt cold but he couldn’t be bothered to stand. His legs seemed impossibly heavy in this moment. He died enough times to know he must be dying. It was the only explanation for it. Good. When Sam came crashing into the room, following the sound of Dean’s phone buzzing on the floor, dragging his own eyes up from the floor to meet his felt like a Hurculean task. Sam was talking now…but his words weren’t registering. He blinked dumbly at him before Sam froze, seeing the bloody handprint o his shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” Sam’s concern finally cracked through Dean’s mind. The protections his mind had put upto keep him sane were beginning to lower…slowly. Dean looked confused as Sam and Jack both gestured to his arm. Dean turned his head to look and taking in the handprint, promptly kneeled over and vomited onto the floor. Sam’s eyes widened and he rushed over, gripping him under the arms to help him stand. Dean tried to help, no use in being deadweight…

“I’ve got you,” Sam murmured quietly but at those words Dean felt a tear slide down his cheek. Cas had said the same only minutes, hours, days before. He had no sense of time now. “Dean?!” Sam said with increasing alarm as he felt more than saw Dean respond to his innocent sentence of comfort. “What’s wrong? Where’s Cas? What happened with Billie?” Jack saw Sam struggling and he took Dean’s other side, trying to steer him out of the room, but Dean’s inability to cooperate had them gently setting him in the lone chair within the Devil’s Trap. He sunk in on himself like his strings had been cut, holding his head in his hands.

“Dean, is Cas…gone? Did Chuck take him too?” Jack’s voice was so childlike, knowing the monster under the bed was real. That fear drug Dean out of his himself long enough to lift his head, shaking it softly as he swallowed.

“No. The Empty…it…Billie and Cas were taken by the Empty,” Dean said with a shudder that ran down the length of his body. He looked back where the black maw of the Empty had opened. He had a terrible urge to run his hands along the space, press his cheek against the brick, dig his nails into the stone until blood oozed out underneath them…but he had Sam and Jack speaking to him again and he hadn’t heard a word.

“Dean!” Sam barked a command now, frowning in confusion. “Are we in danger? I thought the Empty…”

“Can’t come unless summoned…” Dean said dryly with a bitter smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Then how…” Sam began but Jack’s mouth opened in a soft O and his eyes locked with Deans soundlessly. Dean stared back, recognizing the knowledge on Jack’s face.

“You knew,” Dean growled out, finding comfort in the anger he felt scratching at the shields his mind had erected. Anger he could understand. Anger he could let himself feel. Anger made warmth run to the cold tips of his fingers of toes. He wanted to scream, to shout, to take Jack by the shoulders and shake him…but while the anger scratched at him, another emotion fought to soothe it. Feather soft at first, Cas’ words, painful to recall but important to remember, gently attempted to stifle the growing anger. He was more than his anger. He was…love. Love. He could be the person Cas saw in him.

“I knew about the Deal,” Jack said softly as Sam turned to him in confusion. Jack spoke to them both now, cautious as he saw the flames of anger warring in Dean’s eyes. “When I went to Heaven and you did your spell. The Empty attacked Heaven to retriever me, making the claim that as I was half Angel, I belonged there. Cas…he bargained for my life. His for mine, but the Empty wanted to make him suffer, I think. He offered to go with it right then, but they put terms on it…Cas saved me, and he saved Heaven. Naomi even told him where Michael was because of what he did…”

“So Cas and Billie are both really…” Sam began softly, his voice one of someone trying to diffuse a bomb.

“Gone,” Dean growled out as he again buried his head in his hands, no longer able to raise his anger and lash out. He curled in on himself instead, trying to cling to the warmth it had brought him because he felt so cold.

“We think…” Sam said softly, not sure how to present the information to his breaking brother. “We think everyone is gone. Except us. Chuck took everyone. What do we do now?”

Dean looked up at him with eyes that saw past him, not at him. Sam swallowed hard as Dean said the words he never thought he’d hear. “We lose, Sam. We fucking lose.”

Dean sat numbly on his bed, fully dressed, boots and all, his hand clutching the dried handprint on his arm like a talisman against the pain. He didn’t remember how he got here but he assumed Sam and Jack were involved. Suddenly he blinked and he saw Jack, seeming so small, sitting cross legged near Dean’s door. How long had he been there?

“Hey kid…” Dean growled out, his voice raspy as if he hadn’t spoken in some time.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said softly as he went to stand. “I promised him I’d watch over you if he ever…”

Dean’s eyes locked with Jack’s now and he searched his eyes for pity or blame. He found none.

“What did he say to you?” Dean said shakily, feeling his body dethawing from the head down, but it was painful, letting himself feel again.

“He didn’t have to say it, Dean. I saw who he was before I was ever born. I chose him as my father because of his capacity for good. For his compassion and his loyalty. He loved you very much.”

Dean scrubbed his eyes and threw his legs off the bed, his hands gripping the comforter tightly, trying to keep his grip on something, anything. Realty was tilted and he couldn’t seem to find solid ground. “Where’s Sam?” Dean growled out as he tried to swallow back the despair at Jack’s words.

“He’s researching. Trying to find a way to beat Chuck. To get everyone back,” Jack said softly, even though he had no conviction in his tone.

“It’s hopeless,” Dean added after a moment and Jack nodded softly in agreaance. “Let’s get to work then.” Jack’s head shot up in confusion and Dean forced a stubborn smile to form on lips he still couldn’t feel. “Let’s make that fucker pay for all of it.”

Cas had stared at Dean’s face one last time before the Empty came, wanting that clear picture in his mind to last him the rest of…well, forever. What he hadn’t expected was…any of this. When he’d made it to the Empty, they had kept the form of Meg and they looked remarkably shaken.

“Make it stop!” They’d shrieked at him as soon as his feet felt they were on solid ground. “He made it loud!”

Cas took a step back from them automatically, but they pursued him. He looked around for Billie, but she was nowhere to be found. “She sent him here to hurt me and now there’s so much noise. What did Jack do!?” They screamed now and Cas threw his hands over his ears. The sound was deafening, and his face pinched up painfully as the reverberations made it through.

“I don’t know!” Cas yelled back over their scream.

“Liar! They’re all awake, just like you. All of them!” They yelled again and only then did Cas slowly lower his hands and turn, tilting his head as he squinted his eyes in the darkness. He could slowly make out forms in the nothingness. So many forms. Angelic. Demonic. Some familiar.

“Castiel…Tell us what has happened. What is this place?” came a familiar voice that made Cas flinch reflexively.

“Raphael, big brother. Let’s give the kid a minute to process. I doubt he got the invite to the family reunion either. What’s up little bro?” Gabriel said with a raised eyebrow as he, along with hundreds upon thousands of other figures, began to surround him.

Raphael, Gabriel, Balthazar, Anna, Ishim, Bartholomew, Benjamin, Duma, Hannah…They were all here and all awake…

“We demand answers,” roared the voices of the demons on the other side of the circle. Cas and the Empty stood in the center.

Cas swallowed hard at the sea of faces surrounding him. “This place is where all Angels and Demons go when they die. You are awake because…” Castiel hesitated but he had truly nothing left to lose. “It’s Ch…God. He betrayed us. Everything. All of it was for his own entertainment. There was no mission. No greater good. Every death was to further his plot line and his amusement. He no longer cares about the humans, about Earth, about any of us…If he ever did.”

“How can you say that?” came a strangled cry from a faceless Angel.

“He’s not lying,” came a growl from the Empty, offering begrudging agreaance.  “God is not on anyone’s side but his own. Not anymore. I may not be able to go to Earth…but I can tell you he’s wiped the slate clean except for the Winchesters. It’s just a cat and mouse game now.”

A spark of hope flared up inside him and Cas turned abruptly to the Empty, far closer in proximity that he would like. “I can help you make it quiet here again. I will find a way to help you sleep, but you have to let me help them.”

The Empty stepped back and barked a disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me?! I just got you here. A deal’s a deal.”

Castiel shook his head as he spoke. “I didn’t ask you to send me back…Send them. Let them help them defeat God and I will stay.”

“Just you for all of them? You really that’s a fair deal?” the Empty said as they rolled their eyes.

“They didn’t wake you up. I did,” Cas tried to hide the trembling in his hands. If he could do this, he could save Dean. Really save him. He could help him destroy the hamster wheel and give him what he believed he truly needed most. His freedom. The Empty studied him a moment, wincing at the murmuring voices around them. The noise seemed to truly cause them pain.

“Deal,” they said with gritted teeth as they crossed their arms over their chest.

The triumph Cas felt in his chest was only slightly overshadowed by knowing he had truly sealed his own fate once again. One last act of sacrifice for the ones he loved.

#spn spoilers #spn coda #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural spoilers #supernatural season 15 #son season 15 #Destiel #supernatural coda

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 24: “You’re Not Making Any Sense” (Supernatural)

Day Twenty-Four: You’re Not Making Any Sense

Prompts Used: forced mutism

Fandom: Supernatural (Season 8)

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~~~

There was nothing. Castiel was wrapped in darkness as it ate into him, forcing his compliance.

Well, he wasn't entirely alone. There was her.

"You will obey me, Castiel," Naomi said.

"I won't hurt Dean and Sam," he gritted out, throat raw from screaming.

"Don't be cute," Naomi snapped. "What I want is for you to eliminate them. Permanently. You'll kill them, Castiel."

He knew that, he had known that, she had been telling him that for—what was it now, days? He didn't even know anymore. There had been clones of Dean and sometimes Sam too, at first, and he'd slaughtered them even though it had hurt because he thought it would keep Naomi content. And it wasn't like they were the real thing.

He kept telling himself that.

But Naomi had known. How could she not? She was in his head. He had no secrets anymore. He had no sense of self.

He didn't belong to himself anymore, according to her. He belonged to Heaven.

He belonged to her.

He suddenly felt the restraints give and sank to the floor in a humiliatingly submissive pose at her feet. Naomi reached down and gripped his chin.

"Fine. I see you'll continue refusing until I am forced to punish you so much you cease to be useful to me. So instead of wasting my time, I'll make it simple. You'll be nothing more than what you should be. A vessel of intent."

Castiel looked up at her, mouth open in confusion, but she suddenly snapped her fingers and everything went black.

XXX

"Dude, I asked if you had ever heard of anything like this before."

Castiel blinked, shaking himself slightly. Had…had Naomi been in his head again? He was trying to find out, but, honestly it was getting harder to tell. Harder to tell what was real, and how much time slipped that he couldn't remember anymore.

"Cas, are you okay?" Sam asked him, and Castiel saw that his brow was furrowed.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I was just thinking." He glanced at the research books. A hunt, that was right. "I think it sounds like a gorgon. You know, like from the Greek tales."

"Medusa?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Well, not exactly Medusa, but, similar. They actually paralyze their victims with venom, not their sight. The stories always got that wrong."

"Oh, wow," Sam said, glancing at the books.

"I guess that would explain the snakeskins at the scene," Dean said, shutting the book he was reading. "Okay then, let's go. You coming, Cas?"

The angel was torn. Should he come? It would be nice to just hunt again. And the Winchesters might need help. One of them was certain to get paralyzed, and it would be easier if he were there to heal them on the scene.

He stood, nodding. "Yes."

XXX

It was a disorienting feeling, being pulled from the heat of battle, back to the silence of Naomi's office in Heaven.

"What do you want?" he demanded of her, taking a step before angels came forward and grabbed his arms.

Naomi stood from her desk. "It's time we end this, Castiel."

Castiel struggled against the other angels as she approached him. "What do you mean?"

"I told you, Castiel, if you won't kill the Winchesters yourself, I will take matters into my own hands."

"No," Castiel growled, "Don't—!"

He was suddenly back, making him give a double-take as he looked around and failed to see the Winchesters. He didn't want to call out because he didn't know where the gorgon was.

He used his senses to search for them, and could feel them nearby.

Something moved through the old mine and Castiel carefully slid around a corner, pressing his back up against the wall.

He could sense the gorgon creeping through the rubble, hissing slightly. She was nearby.

"Cas?!" Dean's voice came softly, and Castiel glanced to the side, seeing him and Sam carefully picking through the mine. The gorgon perked up and slipped around another corner to hide.

"Where the hell could he have gone?" Dean grumbled. "I turned my back on him for one second." The worry in his voice was palpable. They were getting closer, and about to fall right into the gorgon's trap.

Castiel made to move out from his position and shout a warning to them before attacking the gorgon.

But that didn't happen.

He didn't make it one step before agony crashed through his body and he was suddenly in his head, back in the darkness. He looked around frantically, but something was covering his eyes. Not physically, but that was somehow worse. Somehow Naomi had made him blind.

"Castiel," she said, voice echoing in the darkness.

"What is this?" he whispered before something clenched in his throat and he choked. Pain ripped through his head and he collapsed to his knees with a gasp.

Naomi came toward him and gripped his hair, pulling his head up.

"That's right, you're just going to sit here and be a good, obedient angel while that creature does your work for you."

Castiel tried to protest but nothing came out of his mouth. He couldn't speak at all. He couldn't see, he struggled, but he was completely under Naomi's control and he couldn't seem to break out of it.

She smirked, all too satisfied as she crouched down to get into his face. "Don't worry, I will let you watch. After all, I suppose it would be cruel of me if you never knew how they died."

The veil was suddenly lifted and Castiel blinked in the dim light of the mine again. Sam and Dean were closer, creeping ever nearer to the gorgon lying in wait.

Castiel's back was pressed against the stone, out of sight, and without the ability to move closer, or move at all. Naomi had locked him down. He tried to shout with everything he had, but there was no sound. Only pain that ripped through his throat, blood pooling up into his mouth.

"Here," Dean said. "There's another room back here."

Sam followed him and that was when the gorgon struck…

Castiel forced himself back into his mind's eye. "Please!" he mouthed to Naomi.

She stared at him, impassive. "This was always going to be the outcome, Castiel. You should be glad that it wasn't by your hands. One day you may thank me for that mercy."

But it wasn't a mercy, and it was by his hands.

He glanced back toward the scene unfolding, horrified to see the gorgon jump out at the Winchesters and spit venom directly into Sam's face.

"Sammy!" Dean cried, and raised his brass blade. But the gorgon was fast and she backhanded the blade out of his grip before catching him around the throat.

Castiel tried to move, but he could barely twitch a muscle. He watched Dean go down, fury and desperation ripping through him.

He turned back inside to glower at Naomi who was still standing there. Something dripped down Castiel's face, and at first, he thought it was tears, but the tang of iron filled his nose, and he realized it was blood.

Naomi's face contorted into a snarl. "Castiel…do not defy me."

Castiel shifted his arm, then slowly rose. Naomi raised a hand.

"Don't try anything, you won't get far," she warned.

With a roar of defiance, Castiel forced himself upright, eyes and throat bleeding.

"This is my head," he gritted from between clenched teeth. "Get. Out!"

He slammed his hand into her chest and savored her shocked expression before she disappeared, thrown backward. Almost instantly, he felt as if the strings she had attached to him snapped.

He sagged, gasping, and blinked, once again back in the mine.

He saw the gorgon standing over Sam and Dean's prone bodies, hissing in pleasure. Castiel rushed in, raising his angel blade and slammed it into her back.

The monster hissed and spat, but eventually slumped to the ground, limp and dead.

Castiel dropped his blade and fell to his knees. He summoned his healing ability, terrified that any second Naomi would take control of him again.

He touched the brothers' foreheads, forcing the paralyzing venom from their bodies and they began stirring within a few seconds.

"Cas?" Dean murmured.

Castiel sat back on his heels, relief flooding through him. But there was something he had to do.

"I'm sorry," he said, and stood. "I need to leave."

He had to get as far away from them as possible before Naomi took control of him again.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked groggily as he sat up.

"I can't explain, but I have to go," Castiel said, standing.

Dean caught his arm. "Cas wait…what the hell happened to you?"

Castiel suddenly remembered the blood that was dripping down his cheeks, more on his lips. He reached up and wiped it away on a sleeve. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing, are you hurt?" Dean demanded as Sam also frowned with concern.

Castiel pulled out of Dean's grip, growing desperate, feeling the second tick away. "You don't understand, I have to go!"

"Cas, come on, whatever is wrong, you can tell us," Sam coaxed. "And you shouldn't run off without your blade."

Castiel glanced at the blade on the ground, but couldn't pick it up. Not around them. He would rather leave himself defenseless. Sam and Dean stared at him as the younger Winchester held the blade out to him.

"Cas, come on, we know," Dean said. "we know something's up. But we can't help you unless you explain it."

Castiel looked between them, his blade, the blood staining his coat, the dead gorgon. It had all been too close and there would be more close calls.

But…maybe they could lock him down in the bunker. At least until they could find a way to make sure Naomi wouldn't take control of him again.

He sank to his knees, exhausted, throat tight and still sore. Something akin to a sob broke from him. Dean reached out and gripped his shoulder.

"Cas, you can tell us," he said.

Castiel looked up to meet both pairs of eyes. They were his family. He could trust them.

He took a shuddering breath and finally spoke. "There's something I've neglected to tell you, but you need to know…"

I know it ends a little abruptly, but I promise Cas tells the truth and Sam and Dean make sure he's taken care of ^_^

#whumptober2020 #no.24 #you're not making any sense #forced mutism #sensory deprivation #supernatural #fanfiction #my fics #spn season 8 #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #team free will #naomi #why we all hate naomi #cas whump #bamf cas

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: slow roasted; roman reigns

Notes:

This one was sent to my main’s ask by @vonschweetz​ and I knew I had to post it on here on it’s own post because quite honestly, I really enjoyed writing this out when I wrote it.

Summary:

Trina’s got herself a crush on Roman. And she gets a little tipsy. And proceeds to confess that crush. Roman wakes her up the next morning with coffee and plenty of questions about her confession from the night before. Fluffy af.

Pairing:

Roman Reigns x OFC, Trina

Warnings:

uhhh... alcohol / drinking and hangover fluff.

“Girl. If you order one more drink, you are not walking outta here on your own.”

“I told ‘er ‘at about ten minutes ago. She snuck off from me, came back with the bottle of rum.” Nikki’s eyes settled on her best friend Trina and Trina eyed both women and boldly raised the bottle to her lips. Alicia grimaced and shook her head. “You gonna have more than a hangover in the morning. Your hair is gonna hurt. That’s how bad you’re gonna feel.”

“I-I’m fiiiiiine. Speaking of fine.. Roman when he speared Shane tonight. Unf.” Trina mockingly fanned herself and from the opposite side of her, Naomi burst into laughter and asked, “Did you just..”

“This is a constant thing with ‘er. Bit of a crush on Roman, she’s got ‘erself.” Nikki explained, making Naomi burst into laughter even harder. “Now you clamming up whenever he walks into a room makes perfect sense. Girl.”

“What?” Trina eyed Naomi as she took a few more long sips from the nearly empty rum bottle and then, she let out a long burp, promptly going red in the face and remembering at least part of her manners. After a few minutes, Trina continued, a heavy sigh preceding her words as she shook her head. “Too bad I-I’m not this brave  normally.”

“Oh yeah?” Naomi eyed her friend, beyond intrigued. Until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t thought Trina had a thing for her cousin in law, she’d simply thought bigger men intimidated Trina for whatever reason.

Trina sighed dreamily and gave a little giggle and nod. “Yeah. Definitely. T-the things I would say to that man.. Or do, whichever. Either one is fine with me.” Trina trailed off under the intent and curious stares of her friends and went silent but Naomi wasn’t having it.

“Uh uh. I want details, woman.”

Trina waved her empty bottle and nodded to the bartender. “Oh no.. N-nooope. Gonna take more than t-that to get me talking.”

And that’s where the night went slightly off route…

Around 1 am, Alicia and Nikki and Naomi were escorting Trina out of the bar and Trina was.. Giggling and going on and on about Roman.  Maybe that’s why when Naomi and her husband finally got Trina heading towards the actual hotel lobby and not the hot tub and pool patio to the side of  the building, Naomi half joked that it’d be interesting to just.. Leave her at Roman’s door.

Since apparently, neither party was going to say a single damn word about how they felt to each other’s actual faces…When Jimmy gave her a look and a shrug, she eyed Trina who was leaning against both of them, giggling and humming along to whatever she was listening to on her phone.

“No. We just need to get her in her room.”

“You just said, baby girl.. Ain’t no way either one is gonna actually say or act on how they feel. You know Trina won’t, hell, she clams up whenever he walks in the room and Roman.. Roman wants to make a move but Trina yeets herself right outta the room whenever he enters. My boy kinda thinks she is either scared to death of him or strongly dislikes him. So he’s not gonna say anything anytime soon either..”

“Jimmy.. Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“Maybe I am, baby girl. Maybe we guide her to Roman’s door, leave and let everything play out?”

“ You know this is opposite what friends would do, right?” Naomi’s brow raised as she cast her husband a glance, waiting on him to explain his reasoning. It wasnt a bad idea, Naomi just… Felt protective over the girl. She had since Trina signed.

“Actually, it ain’t. Desperate times and desperate measures. Worst case, Roman will help her up to her own room. Either way, baby girl.. It gets ‘em talkin. That is what you want, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So, we about to be on his floor. We doin this or are we takin Trina on up to the fifth floor where her room is?”

Naomi mulled it over and nodded. “Fuck it. Worst that’ll happen is like you said. Roman’s a nice guy, he’ll take her up to her room if she asks…”

Trina seemed to perk up.

“Hey, we’re on R-Roman’s floor.. I-I think I wanna get off here. I have.. A lot to s-say.”

“Oh good lord.” Naomi gave a gentle laugh but smiled and nodded. “Okay, we’ll get off here. If you back out, just get Roman to take you back up, right?”

“Oh.. I’m not gonna b-back out.”

Trina marched boldly up to Roman’s hotel room door and started banging on it, looking back at Naomi and Jimmy and bursting into a fit of giggles as she waved goodbye and gave  them the thumbs up.

“I’ll call ya tomorrow, Naomi!”

“Good. Please do.” Naomi told her friend as she and Jimmy stepped back onto the elevator…

Roman’s brow raised as he glanced at the door to his hotel room and then the time. He sat down the controller to the XBox and stood. Seth nodded to the paused screen and then asked, “You order pizza?”

“Nah, uce. I’m gonna see who’s out there.”

He chuckled when a glimpse through the crack in the door revealed a very tipsy and giggly Trina standing in the hallway, shuffling her feet, mouth opening and closing. He shut the door and Seth hissed, “Was that Trina?”

“Yeah.”

“Say no more, man. I’ma go find Becks. TELL HER. For the love of God and all that’s holy, man.. Tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t know that right now is exactly a good time.” Roman’s back pressed into the door a little more and Trina called his name from the hallway. He answered her, “Hang on a second baby girl. Just getting rid of Rollins ass.”

“Hey S-Seth! Wish m-me luck A-also, I’m gonna… N-need you t-to get l-lost! No o-offense!”

Seth snickered and shook his head and Roman eyed the door. Seth asked Trina, “Why’s that, midget?”

“I’m about to tell your best f-friend Roman I-I’m crazy i-in l-love  with his ass.” Trina replied, stumbling over her words a little, saying them in a rush before she could stop herself or chicken out. Maybe if she just got it all out in the open she could finally stop hiding / avoiding the guy like an actual child.

… or, maybe it’s gonna make everything awkward and weird…. Either way, I can’t hold back much longer… Trina thought to herself, starting the attempt to sober up. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have completely drunk off her ass.

Seth snickered a little more and Roman gave a bit of a goofy grin and with a slightly shocked expression, he opened the door to his hotel room, picking her up and stepping into the room again when he realized just how tipsy she actually was.

“Y-you heard t-that…” Trina bit her lip as she tilted her head up to stare at Roman, shuffling her feet and going all quiet.

This had been so much easier, she thought to herself, when it was just an idea in her head…

“Mhmm.. and as soon as you’re all nice and sober, baby girl, bet your ass.. We’re gonna talk about it.. But first, let’s get you sittin down, okay?” he chuckled, restraining a groan as her lips brushed right against the  side of his neck. He sat down on the couch and he figured she’d move to sit next to him.

He considered himself surprised when she just kept sitting in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he asked as calmly as possible, “Did you mean what you were sayin to Seth? Answer me, baby girl..”

“Y-yeah..” Trina said it and took a shaky breath. “Yeah. I-It’s true.”

“Is that why you’re always leavin the room when I come in?”

“K-kinda?” Trina tilted her head slightly and Roman tucked his fingers beneath her chin to hold her gaze. He couldn’t help the smile because it felt like a major weight lifted. He’d been wanting to say the same.. Or corner her and ask her if she just strongly disliked him for whatever reason for months now. Now that he knew what she’d say, it did make things a lot easier for Roman to make the next big step.

He leaned in a little; Trina mirrored it, their foreheads bumping a little, sending her into a quiet fit of giggles which was cut short when his hand came to rest on the back of her neck and his lips crashed against her lips as she scooted closer to him, pressing her body right against his, a leg on either side of his body so that she straddled his lap. Roman gave a quiet groan and his fingertips dug into her ass, pulling her even closer. Her teeth tugged at his lip and her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging right around the time his fingers also curled in her hair, tugging and using the grip he had on her hair to pull her mouth into the kiss even deeper.

When the kiss broke, she was breathing heavily and so was Roman, licking his lips and giving a playful grin at her flushed face and swollen lips. Trina leaned in again, one hand at his cheek, the other resting on his shoulder, pulling his mouth back to her own.

X

The phone was going crazy on the nightstand and Roman kept waiting on Trina to roll over and grab it and answer, but she continued to loudly snore, her head beneath a pillow. Roman reached over and grabbed the phone. She didn’t have any kind of passcode or anything and given the sheer volume of alcohol Naomi informed him Trina managed to consume the night before, he was willing to bet the entire farm that she had a hangover.. Or she would when she finally woke up.

← Girl, you alive?

← Well? How did it go last night? Did you finally tell him?

Roman chuckled quietly and put the phone down, untangling her body from his body to throw on a pair of sweats and a tank top.

They had a coffee shop  down in the lobby, he’d seen her going in and out of it a lot. If he went down now, he reasoned, he could make it back up before she was up and about, have coffee and something  to eat waiting on her.

Because now that she was sober he was definitely in a mood to actually discuss  what her showing up at his hotel room at 2 am and drunkenly confessing her feelings meant to him and how he felt in return.

He bumped into Seth and Becky in the hallway, waiting on the elevator and Seth couldn’t resist chuckling as he asked, “Well? Did you finally say somethin?”

“Not exactly..”

“Goddamn it, Ro.”

“If y’ don’t tell ‘er, ah’m goin to lock th’ both of y’ into a closet, ah swear.” Becky spoke up, tapping her foot and Roman chuckled and then answered calmly, “ I did kiss her though. And she did tell me.. But I dunno if she’s gonna remember anything but the splitting headache I’m thinkin she’s gonna have.”

“Hangover?” Seth chuckled and Roman did the same, nodding.  “Goin down to get her coffee. She’s still sleepin it off in my room, as much as I wanted to get up and leave her there by herself. Kinda figured I’d do this and surprise her.”

Seth gave his friend a gentle shove and nodded  with an amused grin. “Good idea. Well, Becks and I were about to come down and see if you wanted to hit the gym but no one answered.. Maybe we didn’t wake her up.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll catch you guys later or something. All I know right now is we are definitely having a serious talk about what she said and what I did after she  said it last night.”

“Lemme know how it goes man. I got my fingers crossed for ya. I know how much you love the midget.” Seth teased as he and Becky walked away, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Roman got on and went down to the coffee shop in the lobby and got the coffee and two pastries and made his way back up to his room, going over what he planned to say as he did.

X

The phone buzzed against the nightstand and Trina reached out an arm, sending the phone to the floor. “The fuck did I do? Did I drink the bar?” she muttered to herself as she slowly slipped her head out from beneath the pillow and rose to a sitting position.

“I’m not in my room? What the hell?” Trina’s eyes darted around and when she heard his throat clear from the doorway followed by Roman saying “Good, you’re awake. How you feelin, baby girl?”

Trina rubbed at her forehead and yawned then as it clicked into place for her, she palmed her face and laughed sheepishly, keeping her eyes fixed on the bed. There was no way in hell she could look at Roman right now, not given what she distinctly remembered ‘boldly’ announcing through a door at almost 2 am.

“You’re not laughing…” she started, her mouth opened and closed and Roman chuckled, moving closer, holding out the coffee he’d gotten  her. “More milk  and sugar than actual coffee, right?”

“Yeah.” and then it hit her… He knew exactly how she took her coffee. She eyed him and started to ask how he knew, but Roman shrugged and spoke up. “ I know  a lot about  you. Lot more than you realize. Okay, whoa.. That sounded creepy as hell, let me start over.” he laughed and Trina took the coffee, sipping as she looked at him through a curtain of hair.

Roman reached out, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. “That’s better.”

He couldn’t help but notice that yeah, she was blushing a little bit and it was cute. “That blushing thing you’re doin right now  is cute.”

“I’m not..” Trina started but she trailed off, taking a few more sips as she fumbled around for words -or alternately, waiting on him to say anything, even if it was him, laughing his ass off.

“You are. Your whole face is turnin almost as pink as that shirt you were  wearin last night.” Roman was teasing gently, he cupped her chin to hold her eyes on him because he noticed that she kept trying to look away.

“About last night..”

“You’re not gonna  back out now, are ya?”

“No, I just.. If you  don’t feel.. That.. too.. It’s okay.” Trina managed to get it out and quickly busied herself with unwrapping one of the pastries that Roman held out to her, groaning quietly as soon as the smell of cherry hit her nose. “Ugh, I fucking love  these.”

“I thought so. You get one every time you go past that coffee  shop in the lobby.”

He took a few bites of his own pastry, an apple one,  and then, he got back to the discussion at hand.  “Me kissin you wasn’t clear enough I guess.”

“To be fair, I kissed you first.”

“Oh no, no baby girl, you did not.”

“Yes. I did.”

Roman chuckled and then reached out, pulling her into his lap, cupping her jaw and mumbling against her mouth, “Well, lemme fix that. Can’t have it goin down anywhere that you made all the first moves, can I?”

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns imagine #// fluff #// alcohol tw + hangover

[airis-paris14]

Human Nature 2

Summary:T’Challa’s got a secret and he’s tired of loving her in secret.

Warnings: None

A/N: Here’s part 2. Hope you enjoy. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

1| 2 | 3 | 4 |

If they say why (why?), why (why?)

Tell them that it's human nature

Why (why?), why (why?), does he do me that way?

If they say why (why?), why (why?)

Tell them that it's human nature

Why (why?), why (why?), does he do me that way?

~ Michael Jackson “Human Nature”

Me: I know it’s late, I hope your business trip is going well. Call me when you wake up. I love you. Sweet dreams my love.

“Girl I know you aren’t texting him still. It’s probably after midnight over there.”

Naomi looked up as her friends chastised her. “Is it a crime to miss my husband?” Naomi cocked her hip.

“No, but that’s why we’re here. Besides, he had to leave for work like this when y’all were dating too. You should be used to it girl. You know what you signed up for.” a young toffee skinned woman sassed back. Tasha Johnson had no problem speaking her mind. That was precisely the reason that she and Naomi got along so well. They kept it real with each other, but were always there to support and encourage the other when the situation called for it.

Naomi knew she was right, she was usually right. Every time T’Challa had to go away like this, she would take the opportunity to invite her friends over for the night. They were only partially right though, she did miss her new husband, but she also missed living with her girls. She had lived with them up until she and T’Challa got married a few months ago. With her husband being gone so often, she wasn’t used to being alone. “That doesn’t make the separation any easier,” Naomi argued.

“Then why don’t you ask to go with him next time?” Gabrielle offered from her seat at the island. Gabrielle Hall was Naomi’s oldest friend. To be fair, she only outranked Tasha by a few months, but time had never mattered with these two. Gabrielle was Naomi’s roommate at Clark Atlanta University freshmen year. They instantly hit it off and with Tasha living across the hall, roommate less after her roommate left the school, the three became fast friends.

Naomi turned off the stove before replying. “You think I can?” She turned and grabbed three bowls from the cabinet. “Uh duh sis, you got wifey status now. With that big ole rock on your finger.” Tasha chimed in. “Still, United Nations stuff might be kinda private,” Naomi reasoned.

“As long as you buy your own ticket, it shouldn’t be that big of a problem. It’s not like y’all will need a separate room.” Gabrielle replied.

“Right, you don’t have to go to work with him, but homeboy be going to some nice places. Make a little vacation out of it. And I’m sure he’d be happy to have a little piece of home with him.” Tasha reassured. Naomi hummed in response. She placed even helpings of pasta in each of the bowls and handed them out. “I’ll think about it,” Naomi promised, settling at the dining room table.

“So what else is on the ‘keep Naomi from texting her future baby daddy’ agenda?” Gabrielle teased. “Well I could use some help with wedding planning-,” Naomi trailed off as her friends groaned. “Oh come on y’all, you’re supposed to be my maids of honor. This is maid of honor work.”

“But like isn’t this what you do for a living? Plan other people’s weddings?” Tasha asked. Naomi twirled the pasta around her spoon. “I mean yeah, but it’s apparently a lot easier when it’s not your own wedding,” Naomi mumbled before lifting the pasta to her lips. “Well, it should be a little less stressful,” Gabrielle comforted, “ y’all did the hard part already.”

“True, the courthouse should take off a lot of pressure.” Tasha echoed her friend. “Yeah, but this time all of our friends and family will be there. I just want everything to look great and have fun. I want it to feel like us.” Naomi explained.

“And it will,” Gabrielle offered. “It’ll be as bougie and black as y’all make it. You’re on top of your career, and so is he.” Tasha hyped. “Exactly, you are the woman who planned Beyonce’s vow renewal. You can definitely do this.” Gabrielle added.

“Thanks, but I would still like y’all’s help,” Naomi pouted.

“Fine-” “We’d love to-” Tasha and Gabrielle started at the same time. Naomi laughed.

“What do you need help with girl,” Gabrielle elbowed Tasha. “We have to choose the venue. They all offer something different but I just can’t decide. They’re all within walking distance of the reception hall, you know so that guests will hopefully participate in the second line parade.”

“Wait, the bridesmaids get a change of shoes for this part right,” Tasha interrupted. “Girl that is so not the point,” Gabrielle laughed. Naomi shook her head, “Anyway, these are the options,” Naomi pulled up the list on her phone and the group got to work. Hours later the women found themselves lounging on the couch. “Are you gonna include T’Challa’s family in this?” Gabrielle interrupted the comfortable silence of the room. “I don’t know yet, he hasn’t really talked much about inviting his family. He said he might try to see them on this trip.” Naomi replied.

“Well, if he wants them here, you should try to include his little sister, maybe as a bridesmaid. She’s what 18,19?” Gabrielle continued. “Yeah, he said she turned 18 a few months ago,” Naomi confirmed. “Good, it’ll be a great gesture if it can happen.” Gabrielle finished.

“Yeah, I’ll ask him about it when he gets back.”

“Have you guys set an official date for the wedding?”

“It really comes down to what day the venue is open. So we’re pretty flexible. Like y’all said, we’re already married, this is just the fun part.” Naomi shrugged, wiggling into a more comfortable spot on her part of the large sectional. “What about the honeymoon?” Tasha questioned. “We don’t know yet either, we have to see how long he can take off. Also realizing that if something goes down, he could be called into work.” Naomi frowned at the thought.

“I guess there’s no rest for everyone’s favorite United Nations ambassador,” Gabrielle teased.

“I guess not,” Naomi laughed. Tash sat up from her position on the chaise, “The real question is where are we going for this bachelorette party?”

“I was thinking Greece,” Naomi smiled, “Ride some horses on the ocean and sightsee. Mostly hang out on the beach. But we gotta go to the Parthenon y’all.”

“Oh god, she’s gonna turn the party into a history tour,” Tasha groaned. “Shut up,” Naomi threw a pillow at her friend.

“You know the strip club and bar scene isn’t really her thing, besides she’s already married. With a husband like T’Challa, I’d be surprised if any stripper could measure up anyway.” Gabrielle teased.

“Moving on,” Naomi loudly announced as Tasha cracked up on the carpet. “Ha ha ha,” Naomi deadpanned. Gabrielle shrugged, “I’m just speaking the truth. Besides, Greece sounds great. Who’s going?”

“I was thinking just us, and I guess T’Challa’s sister if she wants to go. Maybe, Natalie and Bey if they can get away. Nothing huge.” Naomi revealed. The bride to be again stood up and stretched. “Still can’t believe I’m gonna be in a wedding with Beyoncé” Tasha sighed. “You act like didn’t meet her at the engagement party,” Gabrielle yawned. “It’s still a major milestone for me,” Tasha sat up.

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed. Y’all know where the rooms are. Night.” Naomi yawned before trudging up the stairs, blanket over her head. “Night,” Tasha and Gabrielle called before following suit. Once in her room, Naomi picked up the picture of her and T’Challa at the courthouse on their wedding day. He was pressing a kiss to her cheek as she grinned. With his hand wrapped around her waist, she flashed her diamond ring for the camera to see. The happiness in the picture was contagious. A grin spread across her own face before she face-planted into their bed.

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @nyneebee @hutchj @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @strictlyashley @afraiddreamingandloving @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @yoyolovesbucky @derangedcupcake @builtalongthewayside @ilcb7 @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @dopegalkk @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @shesakillerkween @waitingonafriend @faatassbitch

#tchalla #tchalla fanfiction #tchalla imagine #tchalla x reader #blackpantherimagines #apbpfics #tchalla x black! reader #tchalla x oc #tchalla x black!oc #humannaturefic

[breakingsomething]

the fall part twenty one - rise

basic summary: marvin and naomi try to be normal. the jackson-schneeplestein brothers aren't getting along. and jackie, aaron and rhea do something that may have disastrous consequences.

trigger warnings: mentions of suicide, murder and abuse, experimentation, hypnotism

tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow @graveyardlettuce @lower-your-expectationss

summary of what happened last time since it's been a full month: jamie hung out with his family on his birthday, resulting in a small breakfast over carving pumpkins. anti brought jamie a birthday gift. rhea and aaron had an argument that ended with jackie accidentally hypnotism aaron to make him shut up.

-

"you know," marvin said, pausing to sip his hot chocolate. "this is nice."

"it is," naomi agreed. she fumbled with her muffin, picking out a blueberry and popping it in her mouth. "it's been a long time since i've been on a proper date with someone. years, even."

the two of them had made an impulse decision that morning to go to costa and buy muffins and drinks, and it was turning out to have been a fantastic idea. the weather wasn't the best, and it was drizzling outside, but naomi gleefully exclaimed that she loved the rain, and marvin joked that maybe she was a flower herself and needed it to photosynthesize, and naomi pouted and called him a fire, jokingly suggesting that the rain might put him out and teach him how to have fun. he was very glad they had decided to sit outside now. they could listen to the rain from their cozy spot under the canopy as they drank their warm drinks, watching people go by. the air smelled like fresh rain. like jamie's magic, marvin thought, but less sharp. less cold. jamie was like ice. always had been. it was strange to think about.

"you alright?" naomi asked, snapping marvin from his thoughts. she smirked, shaking cinnamon hair from her eyes as she put on an exaggerated playful tone. "enjoying the view?"

he laughed, leaning forward in his seat. "of course! these muffins are absolutely beautiful, stunning, really -"

she smacked his hand, laughing before taking a chunk out his muffin. "you're right, they are! especially yours." she flashed him a grin, a small smudge of chocolate on her lips. marvin brushed it away with his thumb, grinning and bumping their noses together. he could hear naomi giggling. "you're such a soft bastard. aren't you going to try and steal mine?"

"no, i am not, because i am the one winning," he said softly against her lips, then pressed his mouth to hers. she tasted like chocolate. he pulled away after a moment, chest shaking. "fuck, this is so much harder to do while i'm still laughing."

naomi dropped her head to his shoulder. "such a romantic," she chuckled. "god, we are becoming the sappiest couple, aren't we?"

"maybe so." he ran his fingers through her hair, watching a van trundle down the glistening street. "who cares? life is short, might as well drink hot chocolate and be cheesy in a costa. we're all gonna die anyway."

naomi sat up, shaking her head. "a romantic indeed," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes with a smile. she flicked a blueberry at him from her muffin. "you sure know exactly how to flirt with a girl -"

"hey, hey, hey, i'm clearly - clearly a fantastic flirt," he said, holding up both hands. "you're dating me, after all."

"ha, yes, because i felt bad for your awful romancing skills -"

"rude!"

they continued jokingly bickering as they ate until both muffins were fully gone, partially eaten by each magician. the rain had gotten heavier, and naomi pulled up her hood, tapping her chin as she stared off into space. marvin tapped her arm. "penny for your thoughts?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. naomi jolted then sighed, relaxing into her hand and staring down at her hands.

"i dunno," she murmured. "so much is happening all at once. i feel like it can't all be real. you know what i mean?" she traced a finger round her plate in circles, frowning. "that could be just me. i swear i've been taking my meds."

marvin shook his head. "no, i get it. everything's bullshit, world is a fuck." he glanced around before lighting the tips of his fingers on fire and brushing them over his drink to heat it up again. "but it is real, ok? you're not imagining this or making it up."

she chuckled. "i don't know whether to be reassured by that or not. also, stop with the flames. you'll get us in trouble."

marvin shrugged. "nah, the veil will cover it up," he said nonchalantly, but extinguished the flames anyway. he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "mhm. i'm so tired, nai."

"go to bed earlier, then," she said playfully, but with a quiet tone. she pat his hand, watching the rain fall.

he heard his phone ring.

"shit," he muttered, not moving to answer it. instead, he leaned back in his seat, picking up his spoon and twirling it in the air. "weather's nice."

"your phone's ringing," naomi pointed out.

"let it ring." he reached across the table and kissed her again, touching the back of her head gently. "we should do this more often."

she giggled and was about to say something else when marvin's phone went off again. he sat back with an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes to the sky.

"place your bets," he announced sarcastically, pulling his phone out and blowing a raspberry at naomi's amused expression. "will it be… chase, calling to ask if i ate the last bag of prawn cocktail crisps? i did, by the way, but don't tell him that. or will it be henrik, calling to ask where i am despite saying i was going out with you this morning? or will it inexplicably be anti, using the scraps of magic he has left to yell at me for some reason? find out within the next couple seconds, because - hello?"

"marvin," came kazuki's voice. "so, bad news. your magic book has been stolen, and i don't think it takes a genius to find out who took it."

-

chase clinked the spoon against the side of a cup as he stirred his tea, pausing to dump more sugar in it. henrik watched all this from the kitchen table, slightly amused. "mein gott, chase, you're going to have a heart attack and die."

"and when that happens, i'll have a doctor right here to save me," chase grinned smoothly before knocking back half the cup. immediately after he did he began to splutter, coughing and dripping tea down his chin. "shit - shit, fuck, hot hot hot hot!"

"lovely," henrik deadpanned, taking a calm sip of his coffee. "how graceful a man you are."

chase flipped him off, wiping his chin as jamie wandered in, confusion plastered across his face. "good morning?" he signed, his expression suggesting it was a question.

"morning, james," henrik greeted warmly. "chase is dying."

"that's not ideal," jamie said, sitting down at the table and stretching his arms out. "are you alright, chase?"

chase nodded, face bright red. "very hot," he coughed. "very very hot. i'm fine, i'll live."

henrik chuckled, shaking his head. "you're a wreck of a man. drink slower. or do i need to talk to you like you're connor?"

chase rolled his eyes. "shut it, you. where's marvin?"

"out with naomi," henrik said, shrugging. "he should be back soon. all dying aside, how are you this fine morning?"

chase finished his coughing fit and laughed, grabbing a tea towel to wipe up the spilled drink. "doing alright. how's you, james? sleep better?"

he nodded, smiling softly, but his eyes were far away. chase frowned, picking up his mug and sitting back down at the table. "hey, what's up?"

jamie shrugged. "anti," was all he signed. "thinking."

"oh, yeah," chase murmured, suddenly interested in his patterned socks. he and everyone else was all too aware of anti's visit a couple days ago to bring jamie his gifts. he noticed henrik had noticeably soured, staring into his mug. chase cleared his throat. "what… what are you thinking?"

another shrug. "don't know. a lot."

henrik muttered something that neither of them could quite catch. chase decided to ignore it, but jamie sat up, looking at him. "what?"

henrik blew the air out his cheeks, watching jamie's hands but not his face. a benefit of speaking sign, chase and henrik had long ago agreed on, was the lack of eye contact. "i don't want to talk about anti," he mumbled. jamie's face fell just slightly.

"ok," he signed carefully. "don't have to."

there was a tension in the air now that hadn't been there before. chase caught a breath, sipping his tea cautiously.

"you never ate the cookie he brought, did you?" henrik asked without warning. jamie raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across the table.

"what's it to you?" he said, movements almost flat. the tension was obvious now, and chase found himself standing up to make another mug of tea. why, he didn't know, but his heart was racing and he didn't want to turn to look at the others.

still, he could hear henrik's scowl in his voice. "because he could have poisoned it it something. who knows with that man?"

there was a pause, and chase made himself turn round to see jamie's response. "i know," he was saying cooly. "he's my brother and i know him better than any of the rest of you."

"i'm sure you do," henrik muttered, and both him and chase jumped when jamie suddenly slammed his fist to the table, making henrik's mug bounce. jamie had ice in his eyes, cold and unnerving. despite how ridiculously selfish it sounded, chase was glad he wasn't the one on the receiving end of the glare. if looks could kill, henrik would be very dead.

"if you have a problem," jamie signed, slowly, meticulously, so no one missed a word. "tell me upfront instead of being vague."

the kettle had finished boiling, and chase turned to finish his tea while henrik responded. "well," he heard him say, silent fury evident in his tone. "there is the small detail of your brother having held me in his own torture basement for over two months. i feel like - i feel like, with all the shit going on with jackie lately, you lot have forgotten this!"

chase flinched as jamie's fist hit the table again, slightly less furiously than the first time. "no one has forgotten," he signed, and chase wondered if he was imagining the trace of rain and petrichor in the air. "we know anti is not a good person. and we -"

"you're saying "we" a lot," henrik interrupted, and his gaze was also cold, calculating. he and jamie were never opposites; they were two peas in a pod, far too similar for their own good. "i don't think "you" know anything."

the room went very, very silent.

"you think so." jamie's expression was blank, his hands moving far too slowly. "you think i don't know anything, think i don't understand anti."

"jamie," henrik said, suddenly uncertain. "i - didn't mean -"

"no," jamie said. the smell of petrichor was stronger now, something cold radiating off of the man. "no. you spent two months of your life with anti. silly me. of course you understand him better than i do."

"i wasn't implying -"

"then what were you saying?" jamie suddenly exploded, knocking his chair back to hit the fridge as he stood. chase grabbed his mug, burning his fingers as he held it. "what, that you've seen him at his worst? that i couldn't possibly understand how bad he is? that only you went through trauma and that makes it all the worse for you?"

henrik's eyes were wide, and he managed to shake his head, month opening like he wanted to say something. jamie smirked dangerously, coldly. "oh, now you change your tune. because you remember that i spent - how long? over two years with anti? that i've seen far more of him than you ever will?"

jameson hit the table a third time, cold rage lining his face. "i've seen him at his best and his worst. i've seen him when he's vulnerable and hurting, i've seen him covered in blood after a kill, i've seen him have a panic attack after a nightmare, i've seen him when he's manic and making terrible decisions, i've seen him when he's shaking and desperate for someone to touch him, i've seen him depressed as fuck and joking about suicide, i've seen him furious and not paying attention to who it is he's hurting - and who do you think was there for him each time? who stitched up his wounds when he got into fights that he swore weren't intentional, who comforted him when he was hyperventilating and couldn't breathe through panic, who stopped him from committing multiple murders, who took the blows when there was no one else around?" jameson paused, resting his hands for a brief moment. "that was dear dapper jack. dapper jack the time traveler, dapper jack who was fucking made for anti, dapper jack whose very purpose was to fix anti's mistakes. do you have any idea of the things i've seen?"

there was a very silent pause.

"no," henrik murmured, eyes cast to the table. "i don't."

jameson wasn't smiling anymore, even mockingly. "that's right. you don't. you haven't seen the things i've rewinded, the things only i remember."

he took a shuddering breath, his gaze suddenly far away. "you haven't seen. you don't know how many times i've watched people die, people break, people say things they didn't mean to say. i've seen anti die, did you know? i've seen anti break and nearly kill himself, kill me. i've rewinded in my last moments of life. you - you don't even know it, but i've saved your lives as well. and i remember. i always remember." he goes silent. "i always remember."

chase's tea was lukewarm now. he still didn't drink it. henrik didn't say anything. his eyes were transfixed on jamie's, looking far away.

"so don't you dare tell me," jamie continued, and there was something in his face now - grief, a deep sadness, some kind of pain. "don't you dare tell me that i don't know anything. don't you dare. because i know far, far more than you could even begin to comprehend. far more than i wish i knew."

he raised his hand like he was going to hit the table again, but he didn't. he just stormed out the room, leaving behind only the smell of rain.

neither chase nor henrik spoke for a moment. chase was shaking. henrik was staring into the distance, and then let his head fall to the table, forehead resting against the wood.

"ich bin ein idiot," he mumbled. chase didn't disagree. just sipped his near cold tea and looked away.

-

"this is a terrible idea."

"oh, don't be such a paranoid worrywart, mckenzie. this is going to work perfectly."

jackie, aaron and rhea were in the city centre, sitting next to the fountain and quietly planning things out. rhea had insisted they all went out to get fresh air, which aaron had also protested was a bad idea ("we're literally fugitives running from the magic law, rhea, in what world is going out for no reason a good idea -"), and now the three of them were here instead of at rhea's place. and jackie, quite honestly, was beginning to get tired of the two of them fighting.

"i'm beginning to get tired of the two of you fighting," he sighed, stretching his leg out down the steps. "we're all in the same boat, so why don't we get along?"

"i think i've made my side of this plainly clear," aaron muttered, but didn't say more. rhea smiled up at jackie, and his heart swelled with guilt. he knew why aaron was being more reluctant to fight. his head still hurt thinking about the hypnotism he'd accidentally placed on his boyfriend, and he looked away, staring at the shops across the street.

"we're all enemies of restitutio now," rhea was saying, tapping on the notebook she'd brought along with her to doodle in and take notes that neither jackie nor aaron understood. "so we have to be really careful. i'm probably going to be your best bet, being blake's sister and all. i know how to get in and out. mckenzie, you know where the other two necklaces are, correct? i'm assuming they're in the same place as jackson's one."

aaron frowned. "ok, first of all, stop calling him jackson. second of all, do you not know any of this information yourself? i figured with you being bl- being - being the stiùiriche's sister and all."

rhea smirked at his inability to say the name. "i can call jackson whatever i want. why, does it annoy you? also, blake always hid the information from me. guess he never trusted me, huh? he was right not to, but it still breaks my heart." she clapped a hand over her chest, expression unchanging. jackie sighed, preparing to jump in the middle of another fight.

but he didn't have to. aaron just grinned sharply, shaking hair out his face. "ah, so you're relying on the dunderhead to get you the necklaces, huh? how funny. yes, i know where they are. do we have, like, a map of the place?"

rhea rolled her eyes. "a map? are you serious? oh yes, mckenzie, i have a map of the goddamn secret magic organization base that my family has been working to keep hidden for years -"

aaron threw up his hands. "ok, so there's no map, i get it, chill. sorry for insulting your bloodline or whatever." he grabbed rhea's notebook from the fountain steps and began to draw, much to rhea's loud dismay.

"did you - are you drawing a map?" she asked in disbelief. "how do you remember the layout so well?"

"i just do," aaron sing-songed, the red pen gliding across the page. "with our knowledge combined, then i suppose we'll know enough that this isn't a suicide mission. rhea, you're taking the stiùiriche, yeah?"

she nodded. "yep. shouldn't be too hard, he's a pussy when it comes to me. loves me too much, even though i've done such terrible things." another smirk split her face. "so full of weakness. he and your anti are very similar. think themselves strong but are honestly just pathetic. slightly unrelated, but do you guys wanna hear something fun?"

jackie nodded while aaron groaned. "is this something that's gonna get us killed?" he sighed deeply. rhea placed a finger over her lips, gathering up her stuff and leaping to her feet. jackie and aaron scrambled after her, exchanging glances.

"here's a secret," rhea said, and she appeared to be leading them to the co-op on the corner. "i'm not actually a shapeshifter. i know, surprising, right? but i'm not."

aaron snorted softly as they entered the shop, the air instantly warmer and the bustling of people replaced with the hum of a heater. "like hell you're not. we've seen you do it."

rhea grinned. "have you? have you really seen anything? nothing is real anymore, mckenzie, better get used to it."

"if you're not a shifter, then what?" jackie interjected quickly before aaron could say anything in response. "you can change your appearance and such. that's something i'm certain of."

rhea walked down the frozen food aisle, casually inspecting the variety of pizza brands. "i can change my appearance, yes, but not like that. you both know of the veil. what would you say if i told you it was possible to control it?"

jackie blinked. "i'd say… nothing surprises me anymore?"

rhea grinned. her eyes changed from golden yellow to bright pink, growing larger, hair shrinking back into her scalp as her nose turned up and smile became wider, teeth darkening to a near solid black. "not real," she said, and skipped down to the next aisle, grinning at them before changing back with a crack. "just an illusion."

"you're… you're saying you can manipulate the veil?" aaron said skeptically. he crossed his arms firmly. "prove it."

rhea cocked her head, raising an eyebrow. then she walked up to the cash register, a spring in her step, and grabbed a bag of popcorn and a chocolate bar from the shelf next to it. looking the woman behind the counter dead in the eye, she turned and left the store without paying. jackie and aaron followed, mouths agape in shock.

"how did the cashier not notice?" jackie said in disbelief, following rhea back to the fountain. rhea shrugged, smiling wickedly.

"veil manipulation," she said casually. "you could probably do it too. not as well as me, but you could do it. here, let me show you."

she raises her hands, motioning for the other two to follow her. jackie does so, feeling a bit silly. "you have to concentrate on what you want other people to see. it's like knitting in the air, but with illusions. have either of you done illusions before?"

jackie nodded, while aaron shook his head. "i specialize mostly in attack based magic," aaron explained.

"and i used to do light based illusions for -" jackie paused, stiffening. he didn't want to think about chase's kids right now. "yeah. is it anything like that?"

rhea raised an eyebrow at jackie's cutoff, but didn't press it. "in a way. but it's not like manipulating a real thing you can see. light is different. you're taking actual strands of light from the sun, or from fabricated light if you're indoors, and weaving them into shapes. the veil is different because you can't see it, and you can only feel it if you're connected to it. and if you want to connect with it, you have to understand exactly what you're doing. let's start simple." she turned to them, cross legged, and slowly blinked. her eyes changed from gold to purple. "you have to be confident, and you have to be aware. falter, and the illusion falters."

both men blinked, practically straining with the useless effort. "how are you so good at it?" jackie asked, frustrated.

"years of practice," was the response. "since i was born. my mother taught me. she always favoured me over blake, and she was an incredible magician. better than my father, i'd say. honestly, me and blake should have fought for the position of stiùiriche. i would have won." her eyes cleared and she shook her head, realizing how off track she was getting. "but yes, it's hard. we'll have plenty of time to learn later." she straightens, pulling out her notebook again and grinning at jackie and aaron satisfactorily. "for now, we have a magical organization to rob."

-

"so," aaron said. "this is it?"

jackie could not believe the irony of there being a secret entrance to restitutio right next to anti's old waterworks. a crack in the universe just between the trees, a literal hole in reality that no one else had ever found. "holy shit," he breathed, shaking his head in shock. "no fucking way. no fucking way this has been here since you were a kid and the bastard somehow never found it."

rhea shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with herself. "i found it years ago. when you told me anti used to live here, i almost couldn't believe it." she slipped through the trees, narrowly avoiding catching her hair on a branch. "to be fair, you'd have to be an extremely powerful magician to find this without knowing the spell word, and anti is not, and never was, a powerful magician. oh, bitch boy can teleport and fly as a cloud of static? bitch boy can fuck with computers? he's not special. he can't even fully control it - sorry, couldn't, because he's got nothing now, huh? well." she shot jackie a glance. "almost nothing."

jackie winced, remembering anti's brief teleportation that had managed to hurt rhea. he still didn't understand how that had happened, given that jackie thought he had all his magic. "unimportant now. we need to focus on where we're going. you two know the place far better than i do, so -"

"yes, we know, jackie," rhea snapped. she pulled aside a branch and sarcastically gestured for them to go through. "after you. and when you get inside, duck as soon as you can. go."

"wait, the entrance is here?" aaron started, and rhea rolled her eyes before pushing him through. aaron yelped and - disappeared. jackie was given only a moment to gape before he was pushed after him.

he was now in a black room, and a quick, frantic grab around him told him he was in some sort of closet. there was a door in front that was almost entirely made of glass, and jackie now understood why rhea had told them to duck. he feels aaron beside him, breathing heavily in the dark. "hey," he managed to say aloud. "how's it going?"

"shut up," hissed another voice, and jackie jumped before realizing it was rhea. "we're in a closet that's connected to a hallway, so anyone could just walk by. stay still while i check."

they didn't move as rhea slowly rose, a faint mist around her face. "coast's clear," she said softly, and the door opened with only a tiny click, exposing them to a plain white hall with no other defining features other than a camera on the wall. rhea sighed. "jackson, would you like the honour of fixing that?"

jackie really wasn't accustomed to using anti's magic. but he'd been practicing, and with a single flick of his hand, he could somehow see into the camera, see every inner working, see everything it was connected to. "woah," he breathed, raising his hand higher like he was trying to get a signal. "if this is how anti always saw things, i can see why he went bloody mental."

"hurry up and loop them," rhea reminded, and jackie startled before doing as she asked. with the cameras fixed, they fully stepped out into the hall, pressed against the wall as they caught their breaths, rhea already calculating the way. "ok, so jackie, you keep an eye on the cameras. i'll do my best to hide us all if anything happens. mckenzie, you're our backup in case everything goes to shit. you're our attack dog."

"course i am," aaron muttered, but didn't complain. they set off round the corner, rhea still leading, aaron in tow. they didn't see anyone for a while, and they moved slowly, jackie getting the hang of looping the camera feeds as they went.

suddenly, rhea stopped. "shit!' she gasped, and threw her hands up. a blurry shield of sorts lifted over them, and they all went dead silent as two men walked by, wearing dark outfits and speaking in hushed tones. pressed against the wall, the three of them didn't breathe. jackie could feel all three of their thoughts aligning to please don't catch us, please don't catch us, please don't catch us. he could hear aaron's heart beating and gripped his hand tightly, feeling how hot his palms were.

"- don't understand why she never bloody listens to me," the first man was saying quietly. he had light brown hair and almost greyish skin, a cloak shrugged over his shoulders. "i do everything for her. everything! i gave up meat for her, i basically stopped smoking for her - and yet i'm the problem! what the fuck does she want?"

"maybe you're shite in bed," sniggered the other man, who had dark skin and an unfortunate mullet. "or maybe you're just a dick and she doesn't like you."

the first man elbowed him in the side, slowing to check his phone. jackie's legs were shaking, and he lifted a hand to clamp over his mouth so he wouldn't cry out. "fuck off," the man scoffed as the second man laughed. "she loves me really. she just never cares - i say "i'm off to work," and she says "are you actually going to meet up with edward again" and maybe i am, but she doesn't know that and still doesn't trust me!"

they slowly began to walk again, and the second man slapped the first man on the back. "perry," he giggled, shaking his head. "sometimes i wish you'd listen to the horseshit that came out your mouth before you made me hear it."

the two of them continued bickering quietly as they rounded the corner, and as soon as they were gone, jackie gasped and fell fully into aaron, burying his face in his chest. "motherfucker," he heard rhea say as she dropped the illusion around them. "that guy was a right prick. i hope his partner cuts his d- jackson? fuck, what's up?"

jackie was clinging to the front of aaron's jacket, shaking. "i -" was all he managed to get out for a moment. "mistake, this is bad, we need to stop and go back -"

rhea scoffed. "don't be such a pussy. you get one scare and that's enough to send you running?"

"he said he doesn't want to!" aaron said loudly from above him. jackie felt the man's fingers curl into his hair protectively, holding him close. "and i don't want to either. this is fucking bullshit, and i -"

"hello?"

they all froze.

rhea went very, very pale.

"blake," she mouthed, and grabbed the two men by the collar, yanking them down the hall as fast as she could. they flew through the door to a stairwell and practically fell down them, listening to voices getting closer. at the bottom was another door, which they shoved through into a different hall with a fake window on the end. jackie could barely breathe, wiping cameras as quickly as he could, and then suddenly rhea was shoving them into a room and shutting the door, leaning against the small window. they could see a blurry shape on the other side - jackie couldn't tell if it was the stiùiriche or not - before they disappeared, leaving the three of them in silence.

"thank fuck," rhea whispered, voice very high. "that was definitely blake, and he would have seen through any of my illusions. shit, we're lucky to have gotten away with that."

aaron was tugging on jackie's sleeve. "jay," he hissed. jackie couldn't even turn, just closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against the door.

"where are we now?" he said quietly. his breathing was slowing back to normal, and he shuddered briefly, sighing.

"jay," aaron said again. "jackson."

"we should be just under the floor we were on," rhea murmured. "we're close now, so we might as well -"

"guys!"

they both turned in unison to see what aaron wanted. "what's the pr-" jackie started, before he finally took a look at the room they were in.

it genuinely looked like a lab from a horror movie. the room was lit up blue, a desk and trolley full of beakers and surgical tools next to bottles of multicoloured liquids, like potions. curtains hung over strange rectangular boxes. but none of that was what they were focusing on. in the centre of the room was a large, complex looking bed surrounded by black machines, and in the bed was a man. dark, greying skin and shaved coiled hair, wearing a white hospital gown. tubes stabbed into his skin, connecting to the machine. a nasal cannula on his face. pale and sickly, dead looking. it took jackie a moment to recognize him and when he did, it was like a direct kick to the chest.

"holy shit," aaron said in a high voice. "is that - is that not your brother's ex boyfriend?"

because yes, it was raymond. marvin's bastard ex. jackie couldn't breathe.

rhea stepped forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "my god, they did it," she murmured, tapping the side of the machine. "the fuckers went and did it."

"did - what?" jackie managed to choke out. "i - rhea, what are they doing to him?"

rhea turned back and rolled her eyes. "why do you care? it's your fault he's here in the first place. you chose to bring him here. didn't you say you hated him, hated him the same way you hated anti?" a raised eyebrow, another smirk. "didn't you want to hurt him?"

"this is so fucked," aaron sobbed, clamping his hands over his ears as he groaned in disgust. "rhea, for fuck's sake, tell us what they're doing to him!"

she sighed. "they're extracting his magic." she said this in a tone so casual that it took a moment to sink in. "i didn't think they'd manage it, but this machine is new. it tears every strip of magic from your body and, depending how much of it was in you, you'll either literally shrivel up and die or you'll lose half your senses and maybe a limb or two."

aaron turned and threw up. jackie found himself at rhea's side, watching the skeletal man's chest rise and fall, wheezing. "is he dead?" jackie breathed, something hot and unpleasant stirring in his chest. "and - why are they taking his magic?"

"he's not dead, no," rhea said matter of factly, leaning against the dark machine. "not yet. and as for your second question - think of it this way. you know how you took part of anti's soul and therefore gained most of his magic and a bunch of his memories? it's like that, only slightly different. they don't take the soul. only the pure, unreached magic. they use it to fuel their own. so they won't gain this man's powers when they use it, but instead, their own magic will be stronger."

"this is so messed up," aaron moaned, straightening from the corner he'd been vomiting in. he was pale, shivering. "we can't - we can't do this. we can't."

"oh, come on!" rhea said loudly, throwing up her hands and letting then flop to her sides. "you helped torture anti, did you not? he's human too, probably! human like this guy! both of them pricks, correct? both of them people who have hurt one or more of your brothers? why is it so wrong for anti to hurt and not him?"

even jackie didn't have an answer. not only that, but… there was a small, disgusted part of him that was almost satisfied to see raymond like this.

he wondered what marvin would say if he could see him now.

"this isn't important right now," aaron suddenly spat. he stormed towards them and grabbed jackie's hand, holding it tightly in his own. "are we going to get these bloody necklaces or what? let's go, i'm tired of fucking standing here."

both rhea and jackie were surprised by aaron's sudden change of heart, but neither one complained. they checked that the coast was clear and set off again, clicking the door behind them. jackie didn't look back at raymond.

"blake's corridor is over here," rhea said, guiding them through a hall and briefly throwing up a veiled illusion to hide them from someone walking by. jackie held his breath until they were gone. "the stiùiriche always gets a corridor to themself, lucky bastard. mckenzie, this is your time to shine. hopefully we can get in and out without too much trouble, but if not…" she cracked her neck. "blake is mine."

the hallway was dark, and no one was around. "he doesn't like people being around," rhea said quietly. their footsteps were the only sound they could hear. "back when he was announced as the new stiùiriche, even i wasn't usually allowed to - shit!"

she grabbed them and pulled them against the wall. on the staircase, seen through the window across the opposing room, staring right at them… was a man. short brown hair, pale skin, a black hoodie. jackie recognized him. fuck, but jackie recognized him.

is someone up above trying to fuck with me today? he thought. what the hell is going on?

"shouldn't we move?" aaron said. "he's seen us!"

"too late," rhea murmured. "way too late."

the man watched them.

"will he tell the stiùiriche?" jackie asked, heart racing.

"most likely," rhea replied.

aaron leaped forward, holding up his hands with a look of confusion on his face. "am i missing something? who is that?"

"unimportant," rhea said immediately. "let's go. if he's over there, blake probably is too. hopefully we'll be ok."

she took off down the hall. aaron fell into step beside jackie, shaking his arm to get his attention. "jackson. are you hiding something from me?"

guilt rolled in his chest. "shut up," he mumbled, hating himself as he said it. "i'll tell you later."

he did not plan to tell him later.

aaron let go of his hand.

"is this it?" rhea asked. they'd gone through another few rooms, seeing no one, and was now in what looked like some sort of strange dressing room, lit up yellow, lined with shelves and full of closets and desks. "or are we near it? you guys are so lucky i know the spell words to get into blake's places, by the way, otherwise you'd so be screwed. this place is fucking weird."

"we're close," aaron muttered. he'd been very quiet since seeing the man on the stairs. he moved across the room, opening closets and peeking inside. "i found this place when i left a meeting with the stiùiriche and went looking through some of the rooms while the spells were down for me. i was a rather well trusted member, and the magician who was to escort me out basically told me to go by myself. normally, i wouldn't have taken anything, but something seemed to be almost… compelling me. and i guess i'm glad i did." he paused in his search, expression unreadable. "maybe."

a few minutes of looking, and it was rhea who found what they were looking for in one of the many closets in the room. "blake's hidden safe," she breathed, staring into a black void with no apparent end. "i never knew where it was. he never let me in here. mckenzie, you legend!"

aaron just snorted, looking distant. "yeah, sure. let's go in and get the shit and then go home and be powerful, i guess." his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

jackie went in after rhea, staring in awe round the place. it was a literal abyss, with only a few glowing lights, like beacons. "your brother sure has a thing for creepy voids," jackie joked, trying to lighten the mood.

rhea wasn't paying attention. she marched across the floor - jackie blinked behind his glasses, because it looked like she was floating - and went up to the farthest beacon, eyes wide. "here," she gasped, beckoning jackie over. "quick, come here!"

it was the necklaces, laying on two white pedestals under glowing lights from an unknown source. they looked a lot like jackie's necklace, only slightly different colours; while jackie's was jet black, one was a deep silver with a red gem and the other was a golden copper with a green gem. "souls," rhea murmured, picking up the golden one and turning it over in her hands. "weapons. i wonder if they work the same as yours, jackie? mckenzie, come and - mckenzie?"

they both turned. aaron was gone.

"well, that's not good," rhea said lightly.

"shit," jackie hissed. he grabbed the other necklace, wincing at how it burned his hands, and darted back over to where the glowing entrance of the safe was. his feet didn't make a sound as he ran. "we got what we needed, let's find aaron and go."

"aw, do we have to?" rhea complained. she was fixing the necklace to her neck, letting it fall to her chest. "he's boring, can we leave him? he's probably off being emo because you wouldn't tell him who that other guy that you handed over to blake was."

"shut up!" jackie spat, stumbling out of the cupboard. panic was beginning to spike in his chest, and was it just his imagination, or were the lights flickering? "this was too easy, this was - this was a mistake. this was so a mistake, oh my god -"

"oh, yes. it was definitely a mistake."

that last voice wasn't rhea's. or aaron's.

jackie turned to face the stiùiriche himself.

he looked the same as last time he'd seen him. salt and pepper hair, galaxy suit that shifted as he walked, black cape, black eyes. he carried an aura of power and of demanding respect, head high and eyes blazing. already jackie was sinking, submitting to the pure magic the man radiated.

but then rhea stepped in. "blake," she said curtly, a polite grin on her face that only thinly disguised her malice. "how have you been?"

the stiùiriche glared down at them, arching an eyebrow. "stealing from me again, sister," he said, and he was looking at the necklaces in both their hands. "haven't you taken enough?"

rhea scoffed, her mask of indifference slipping. "mm, have i? i can think of a few more things i could strip you of. your position of power, your heart, your -"

jackie suddenly found himself swimming out the haze of near magic hypnotism that he'd been under, immediately beginning to shout. "where's aaron?" he cried, swaying on his feet. "what have you done with him?"

the stiùiriche frowned. "aaron mckenzie? the traitor man, the one who stole from me the first time? he is here too?"

"don't play dumb!" jackie roared, and before he could even think, his eyes and veins were blackening and the necklace was tightening on his chest. "give him back to me!"

then a hand was on his shoulder, pushing him back down when he hadn't even realized he was rising. "stop," rhea said sharply. "he's mine."

the lights in the room snapped off and plunged them into darkness.

when they turned back on… they weren't really back on. they were in another black void, like they always seemed to be with this guy. "is this one of your magic specialties?" jackie spat, leaning against rhea to keep her close. "weird black rooms?"

"pocket universes," he heard blake say, his voice echoing all around. "my specialty, yes, next to my… natural charm. hypnotism. i'm very good at it, jackieboy man, wouldn't you agree?"

"i -" he tried to direct a bolt of magic towards him, but the void seemed to swallow it up, and he couldn't even seem to pinpoint the stiùiriche's voice. "shut up! just shut up! stop it!"

"don't let him get to you," rhea shouted. she pressed her back to his, and the two of them briefly were one, spinning round, on defense, watching. "he uses emotion to his advantage. use your light! you're a photokinesis magician, are you not?"

jackie breathed in sharply, whimpering in sudden pain. "i am, i am, but - i - since the necklace, i -"

something began to laugh. "oh, that is rich," came the voice of the stiùiriche, and a sudden wave of magic hit the two of them, causing rhea to stumble and jackie to fall to the floor. "your light magic - it isn't compatible with the black soul magic that you stole, is it? the irony. the irony!"

"shut the fu͠cķ ͠u͞p̶!"̴ jackie screamed, and his magic began to thunder through his veins. rhea howled, and she was a wolf, she was an owl, she was a beast. something glowed - the stiùiriche's suit - and he hit them again. jackie, for a moment, couldn't move. he could barely see rhea, lashing out with coils of weak darkness, and blake, laughing, laughing.

"your illusions don't work on me, piuthar," the man said loudly, and jackie's vision spun. black inky shadows seeped from his eyes and nose and ears and in between his fingernails, and he attempted to use it to push himself to his feet. it worked, and he stumbled, looking frantically for rhea as blake rose, never staying in one place. "i see right through you. always have. how goes your quest to redeem yourself, rhea bird?"

"don't you dare," she hissed in the voice of a snake. something collided with flesh. something burned. "i have redeemed myself plenty without you. i have many powerful magicians under my control, wrapped around my little finger. you have no idea."

jackie did not know what she was talking about. he shot a bolt towards the dire direction of the man's voice, and seemed to get a lucky shot. the stiùiriche screamed, and something blew into jackie's face as he swayed, trying to get to rhea. "fuck," he moaned, feeling his body go light. "rhea, aaron, m-marvin… marvin…"

"where's your fucking boyfriend?" rhea cried, and jackie saw her leap aside, something dark coiled in her hands. "he was our attack dog, the bastard! this necklace isn't doing shit!"

jackie was going numb. his stomach lurched, head spinning with hypnotism, stronger than anti's own. fuck, he wished he knew how to control all this magic better. he was starting to become delirious. "marvin!" he yelled, voice breaking. "i can't - aaron, marvin!"

"jackson!"

aaron's voice. through jackie's blurred vision, he could see him in the broken doorway that hadn't been open a moment before. "come on!" he shouted, holding the doorway and straining as blake attempted to close it from where he was standing. "hurry up, i can't hold it!"

"traitor!" the stiùiriche screamed. rhea took this opportunity to roundhouse kick him right across the face. without even the use of magic, blake stumbled; the closing of the door paused, and jackie even within his delirious state knew to race over to the exit. "you traitor, pathetic boy! you could have had power!"

once again, jackie had no fucking clue what he was talking about. it seemed like he was feeling like that a lot lately. all he knew was that if he didn't get out, he'd be trapped in blake's pocket hell world, and that wasn't something he wanted. "rhea!" he called, feeling his legs beginning to give out beneath him. "come on, we've got what we need!"

the doorway was bright, and aaron's face felt even brighter. "thank fuck you're alright, hurry up!" he gasped, ushering jackie out the void. as soon as he was back in blake's strange dressing room - how many pocket universes did he have in these closets, because he was coming out of a different one than before - his mind began to clear, and fuck if it wasn't unnerving. had he really been hypnotized so easily, just by being in blake's presence? how was he still that weak, after everything?

"run, run, hurry!" aaron was shouting, and jackie snapped back to attention as the man grabbed his hand and pulled him out the room back into the hall. he could hear fighting behind them, something crashing, something exploding, something slamming into something else, someone screaming.

jackie tried to stop. "rhea, we need to wait for rhea!" he yelled over the noise. an alarm was blaring - rhea had mentioned that if they were caught, there was a chance an alarm could be set off. someone ahead was shouting - pounding footsteps, magic blasts - "stop, aaron, we have to make sure rhea's ok!"

"fuck rhea!" aaron panted. three other magicians materialized in front of them. fire glowed in one of their hands, and jackie and aaron stopped dead. "shit, shit -"

one of them lifted a hand, chanting something -

and jackie threw himself into aaron's arms, wrapping his arms around him as the sound of static filled the air louder and louder like a broken crescendo -

and they were in the trees next to the waterworks again.

they held each other for about thirty seconds, neither man daring to breathe, shaking, listening to each other's heartbeats in the silence.

"you teleported," aaron said, his voice very high. "you glitched, you did it, we're out, you -"

"where were you?" jackie whispered. he was too scared to pull away, too scared to let aaron see the look on his face. too scared to look at aaron's face. "where did you go? you left us, i was - aaron, i was…"

aaron pressed his lips to jackie's head, holding him upright with a hand on his back. "had to do something," he mumbled, something jackie couldn't understand in his voice. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry."

an awful feel began to sink in jackie's chest. "aaron. if you did what i think you did… i think rhea will genuinely kill you."

"then let's leave her," he said loudly, and sat straight up, eyes wide and desperate. "i have the necklace, which i really didn't need, but i have it. thank you for getting it for me, by the way." he took it from jackie's hands, admiring the unnatural silver shine. "we… we can go. we don't need her."

jackie pulled away so he could look at aaron's face, though he kept his arms round him just to keep him grounded. "you - what? we can't leave rhea, what the hell? why would we do that?"

aaron hesitated. "jackson. she's - she's fucked, she's with her brother. there's nothing else we can do, babe, we have to -"

"oh, planning on leaving me, were you?"

the two of them whipped round to see that yes, it was rhea emerging from the trees. she must have gotten out through the hidden portal in the closet again. her hair was singed, her nose bleeding and scratched, but she was very much undoubtedly alive. "rhea," jackie breathed, and without thinking, he broke free from aaron and ran over to give her a hug. she didn't return it. "rhea, what happened, i thought you were -"

"dead?" she laughed. something in her voice was harsh and cold. she didn't appear to find it funny at all. "nope. just got a bit caught up. nice to see you waited for me, though."

jackie winced, stepping back between aaron and rhea. "i - i wanted to, rhea, but some magicians were closing in and i ended up teleporting -"

"what's your excuse?" she suddenly said, turning to aaron. the mood in the air soured even further, the tension thick enough to be suffocating. "why did you leave?"

aaron, to his credit, didn't break as she stared him down. he stood tall, unblinking. something unspoken traveled between them. a threat. a promise.

jackie couldn't stand it. "let's not do this," he said quickly, raising his hands to act as a shield between them. "we can talk later. we need to get away in case the stiùiriche follows us or something. come on."

for a moment, neither aaron nor rhea moved. then the woman smiled, snakelike. "ok then. let's go. we can talk about all this later, yeah? we've got all the time in the world."

jackie didn't like the threat in her voice. but he had no choice but to follow her out of the trees and back to anti's old waterworks.

#boop writes #the fall #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #jameson jackson #jackieboy man #naomi gudmundson #aaron mckenzie #rhea maclaren

[mindctrlaltdel]

Random Reviews: Mulholland Drive

This movie is BASIC INSTINCT, written and directed by Salvador Dali.

***

Recently, I watched MULHOLLAND DRIVE for the first time for my friend Shawn Eastridge's podcast, MISSING FRAMES (www.thenerdparty.com/missingframes/episode-103-mulholland-drive).

As I watched this odd, funny, disturbing, interesting flick, I took the following notes. Is it, as some critics say, the BEST FILM OF THE 21ST CENTURY? Here's an inside look at my viewing experience as I mulled over MULHOLLAND DRIVE...

[PRESS PLAY]

I love how the first five minutes is basically a bad late 90's Gap commercial, all swing dancing, no point...

The Mulholland Drive sign is calling to us. The street, Mulholland Drive, is Bali Hai for perverts.

Justin Theroux gets top billing over Naomi Watts??

I gotta admit, I saw one of the movie's original posters and thought "Naomi Watts AND the lady from the first MEN IN BLACK is in this? It's the triumphant return of Linda Fiorentino." When I DIDN'T see her name in the opening credits, I was disappointed. She's NO Linda Fiorentino... for this role, she's even better. AND she's a countess (seriously, look it up). Oh, and Robert Forster shows up for 10 minutes.

Not-Linda Fiorentino has some hustle in her for someone who just survived a horrible head on collision.

I like how the street signs kind of tell us where we are and what kind of world we're in. It's like a surreal, dramatic version of that Californians SNL sketch.

You mean to tell me that the red-headed older woman didn't see not-Linda Fiorentino under her kitchen table? UnbeLIEVable.

Holy crap, the wide-eyed guy in Winky's - he plays Jimmy Barrett, the comedian in MAD MEN... and MAD MEN is an interesting connection here, because everyone talks in this measured, paced deliberate way throughout that series, kind of similar to how the characters usually speak in the David Lynch productions I've seen... When I started watching MAD MEN, I thought the actors were purposely directed to speak that way, so everything to seem more "real" as opposed to that fast-talking, old-Hollywood style that you'd expect to see from outspoken, big idea-types. I imagined that Matt Weiner wanted people to seem - at least to modern audiences - the way people actually were - particularly, the inhabitants of the intelligent and cerebral world of ad men, working behind the scenes, on the fringes of show business. But then Jimmy Barrett, an old-timey comedian ALSO spoke that way. And it just didn't seem authentic to me. Anyway, back to THIS movie...

OH and that dingy woman behind the dumpster! She's like if Captain Howdy moved out West and got all LA on us. Is that Cloris Leachman covered in mud? And the music... for some reason, there's nothing scarier than the sound of an HVAC vent on full blast. (According to this article, www.vulture.com/2014/10/mulholland-drives-evil-hobo-breaks-her-silencio.html,the actress who played Evil Hobo #1 said of her audition process: "I don’t mean to brag, but David Lynch said he was looking for the most incredible face he could find. I actually met him at a Twin Peaks party, and he was like, 'Look at that face!'")

I love the X-Files-style synth strings that play over Naomi Watts (Betty) and gram-gram (Irene) as they walk through the hotel, I mean the airport... Aw, these two old people love Betty. What a different life she's living than that countess who's not Linda Fiorentino who's squatting in that redhead's apartment that Betty's about to move into.

Even then, Naomi had a good American accent. (Although I learned she's technically British but split her time between England and Australia), those Australians are great at spitting out neutral American sounds. But once I learned that Betty is supposed to be Canadian, I was very disappointed. It's not THAT authentic. Where are her "Aboots"? And she didn't put maple syrup on anything in this whole movie.

Oh my God, are Irene and her husband, riding in this towncar, ALSO going to get held up, like not-Linda Fiorentino at the beginning of the movie? Oh okay, they're not. We just followed them for no reason other than to see that they look happier than an old couple in a Cialis commercial. I guess meeting Betty really improved their sex life or something.

Coco - of course she's a fading hollywood starlet... AHHH, Coco is played by Ann Miller - good for her. She's basically that kooky old landlady from SEINFELD, the one who worked with the Three Stooges that Kramer met when he went to LA. Look at all these connections!

"Prize-fighting kangaroo who shits all over the courtyard" - do you think Naomi Watts is going to come out and say, "as an Australian, I was actually offended by this line, but I was scared into silence by that power-hungry monster, David Lynch."

The countess - who now goes by "Rita" - does kind of look like Rita Hayworth. I like the connections to old Hollywood and to noirs and how it's all wrapped together. Rita Hayworth is also a redhead, like Betty's aunt. She's of Spanish descent as well... and the actress playing Rita in this movie is of Mexican descent... Connections, connections.

I love that this casting session is basically run by a deep state shadow organization with a weird waiter in a red blazer... This is how Disney cast WandaVision.

HAHAHAH "That is one of the finest espressos in the world sir!" - this is DEFINITELY how Disney casts their movies. And Justin Theroux is the only man with integrity in this room! Does anyone have any class in this town!? They don't even validate his parking.

This is my favorite movie about making movies since BOWFINGER. And I may not be lying. And somehow less weird than THE ARTIST.

Is everyone gonna start killing each other over Ed's famous black book? This is oddly funny.

"Something bit me bad!" This incredibly long fight scene between the blond guy and secretary... it reminds me of the Uma Thurman/Daryl Hannah trailer fight in KILL BILL VOL. 2 but with less snakes.

These closeups of lingering looks on Rita's cash-filled purse are great... She's pulling wads of cash out of that purse one at a time, like Leslie Nielsen pulling eggs out of that blond lady in AIRPLANE!

I want to know what direction David Lynch gave that braless woman who's following the blond assassin around. It's like she's doing an acting exercise... like you know, when you're told to fill the space... "walk around the room, and clear your head. And now you're walking really fast. And now you're slow. NOW, imagine what it would be like to walk with your nose as the furthest point in front of you. Lead with your nose..." And David Lynch did that and told the braless woman to lead with her chest.

Justin Theroux is basically Robert Downey Jr.'s character from BOWFINGER, except NOW, he's the protagonist.

Betty is loving Rita's amnesia a bit too much. If this were my life, Rita would be the most interesting thing to happen to me too. Hell, if I was from Ontario, getting off at LAX would rock my world.

When Justin Theroux enters his glass-walled home to find his wife with another man, well... Justin Theroux may never star in something like HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN, but I can definitely picture him in YUPPIE WITH A GOLF CLUB.

That slinky theme song playing in Justin Theroux's/Laraine's house is a song that I actually listen to in my tiki, lounge playlist - to give you a hint of my music tastes. What I listen to for fun, Billy Ray Cyrus puts on to drown out his love-making.

By the way, BILLY RAY CYRUS!!! WHAT? Is this how Miley was conceived??? I think yes.

Pink paint in a jewelry box! This is much better than the usual throwing-all-his-belongings-out-a-second-story-apartment-window-scene that happens in every other movie.

I wouldn't be THAT excited if I learned MY name was Diane Selwin. BUT the sexxxual tension with the waitress Diane at the diner is palpable!

So, not-Linda Fiorentino has amnesia. How does she know that answering machine is NOT her voice!?

Justin Theroux/Adam Kesher's wife is very aggressive with the large man who's so dedicated to finding Adam Kesher that he keeps calling Adam's name in vain like the secretary in my doctor's office.

I watched this movie in pieces, the first half late at night. The second half the next morning. In between, while sleeping, I had a dream where Betty and Rita were looking over a map and any time one of their hands brushed over another, their hands would turn gold. As if this was a stylistic choice made by the filmmaker directing my dream to show that there's some kind of deeper relationship between these two women. So I've started dreaming in Lynch.

I like how this film is so utterly connected to not only Lynch's subconscious, but the audience's as well. Lynch is TAPPED IN. I don't always love when a film goes all in with a surreal style, because sometimes that's just a cover for something lacking in the storytelling department. But I do feel there's more to it here, in MULHOLLAND DRIVE.

The hooded woman, Louise... I feel like I've run into her on the streets of New York. A Louise will ALWAYS find a way to give you a portent of doom that ruins your day. Friggin’ Louise.

This movie is so moody, you really have to be in the mood to watch it.

There's something magical and prophetic about the cowboy, like he's the seer that the old general sees on the eve of battle... Also, I love how the lead female role in Justin Theroux's movie is his sword of destiny. There's a glitz and gleam and nostalgia to Old Hollywood that naturally gives this movie, set in "modern" Hollywood," a total fantasy vibe.

Hahaha that "You're still here?" scene rehearsal between Betty and Rita is an excellent transition.

James Karen - the real estate guy from POLTERGEIST - is handling casting! "He moved the headshots but he didn't cast the bodies!!"

The casting direction: "Don't play it for real until it gets real." It's interesting how the characters, who work in the "business," seem to control their reality. Betty seems unsure of where the scene is going, then she gets into it. And it really speaks to her conversion from a bright-eyed new arrival to someone who surrenders to the darker impulses of the city.

HEAVY BREATHING.

Ugh friggin' Bob...

I love how Lynnie, the casting director, pulls the rug out from under that scene. There's always a jaded casting person who totally wrecks any good feelings about every audition. It's a thing.

David Lynch uses nostalgia and a latent love for Hollywood to draw the characters (and us) into his world and then subverts our expectations. A lot.

Why is the screen test just a lip-synching contest? ...I think it feeds into the nostalgia element for the movie at large but it seems like a waste of studio resources here. Early-aughties Hollywood spending, amirite?

Rita's reaction to finding the body is played very much like the reaction a character would have in an older film... The horror! The fear! The silent gaping terror while possessed with the inability to scream. I was watching the original KING KONG before this (which is may be a sign from the universe that I had to watch this Naomi Watts vehicle, as she starred in the remake), and specifically remember the scene where the director Carl Denham is coaching Ann Darrow/Fay Wray on how to act in a horror film - "now look up, and you see it, you see it in all its horror. And your jaw drops and you try to scream but you're so frozen in terror that you can't!" - I imagine that's what Lynch is doing to not-Linda Fiorentino off-camera as they filmed this scene.

Uh-oh, Rita is single-white femal'ing Betty now... She doesn't have a personality of her own, so she's going to take Betty's.... And now we're just getting NUDE with each other. This erotic thriller immediately turned from skintillating to Skinemax.

"I'm in love with you" - is Betty just saying that to convince herself? It feels more lusty than real. Betty's so bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Rita is gonna chew her up and spit her out!

I like the shot when they're sleeping together and, as they rest, their faces overlap thanks to the perspective of the framing. How much of the same person are they becoming? Where does one personality start and the other end?

The weird 2am theater. How'd Rita and Betty find this place? I love how this pop-up slam-poetry reading in this opera house is as terrifying to Rita and Betty as finding the dead body.

So Betty starts convulsing in her seat and then the poet disappears in a kind of old-style, cinematic I'm disappearing effect. I dig it.

Wait... is this a mysterious, magical show that just appears in LA, like Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead, that town in THE MUMMY that only shows up at sunrise on the third day or something like that? Or is this just a poorly attended Spanish-language talent show that could only afford to book this theater at 2am on a Thursday?

I love that Betty and Rita are tearing up over Rebekah Del Rio's performance (Rebekah Del Rio is a real person, by the way). Then, Rebekah faints as her voice keeps singing - is NOTHING real? Has Betty totally given into this weird world to the point that she doesn't really know what's authentic and what's fake anymore OR was Betty fake before she got to LA so it was easy for her to get acclimated.

This movie is like THE MATRIX, from the perspective of characters who only took the blue pill and didn't look back.

OOOH, Betty has the box and Rita has the key! But the box is empty except maybe its the Gom Jabbar pain-box from DUNE. Is David Lynch using MULHOLLAND DRIVE as an excuse to make good on his promise to produce a good version of DUNE.

WAIT A SECOND, the cowboy knows the dead girl? Does this even matter?

Now, wait ANOTHER second. Is Betty performing or DREAMING when she's Diane or is something else going one??

What's the BLUE KEY doing there?

"Two Detectives"??? Is she talking about Betty and Rita OR Robert Forster and the pudgy guy? OR someone else entirely - the two guy's from Winky's???

The movie became more interesting the moment the perspective shifted to "Diane" and "Camilla." When that happened, Naomi Watts really amped up her performance... reaching a level of intensity we hadn't seen since Betty's audition... it does take 2 hours to reach that point.... But then, when Betty and Rita are topless on the couch, I couldn't tell who they were supposed to be until Rita/Camilla called her "Diane."

Wait, now Rita's acting?? OH, so Rita was an actress? And Diane wasn't? Or Betty looks exactly like Diane?

The weird shifts in focus. The sad masturbating. This is the most depressing soft-core ever made!

Did Betty get killed and have amnesia too?

They take a shortcut to Eddie's house which looks EXACTLY like where Rita/Camilla was taken at the beginning of the movie by the hitmen in the towncar before that wild accident with those teenagers made her life weirder... OR less weird. You be the judge.

IS this a flashback or the future. Eddie and Camilla are having an affair?

MY MOTHER? COCO - what's real and what isn't????

The jitterbug competition.... Diane/Naomi wanted the lead so bad, Camilla got the part but in Mulholland Drive, Naomi is the star.

Then, Camilla is kissing that other blond actress who Betty watched screen test...

MULHOLLAND DRIVE is just David Lynch telling us that LA is a place for lust and jealousy and no matter what, purity gets ruined.

WHAT, the blond waitress is BETTY? And Diane hires the blond guy, who's officially labeled as a hitman.

Diane is also from Canada...

Are Diane and Betty just different versions of the same people in nearby parallel universes? I certainly HOPE so. This is too much insanity for ONE universe to handle.

The blue key will be found where the blond guy told Diane. Okay, that makes sense. But if this were to mirror real life, the key was in her hand the WHOLE time!

OH, and hobo-Cloris Leachman comes back... AND she's holding the blue box/Gom Jabbar... WHY the hell did those two old people wander out of that paper bag??? Do they represent longstanding guilt? Seems like it. Because they've just crept into Diane's apartment.

MULHOLLAND DRIVE is almost silly to the point of pretentiousness at points - at least with the last word to be uttered on screen - "silencio." That said, it does evoke the HAMLET line: "And the rest is silence," so THAT's poetic.

Sadly, Robert Forster was barely in this movie...

Oh, and Lee Grant played Louise - the old-Hollywood connections keep coming!

I can't believe this movie was intended to be a pilot?

***

Now, some final notes:

On the swapping of characters and relationships in the last 30 minutes -- my first thought was that Betty/Diane and Rita/Camilla look similar and/or they're connected by a parallel universe, and the diner is like the central hub between worlds, and hobo-Cloris Leachman is the gatekeeper between the two worlds... I buy the "dream world" explanation that some critics espouse, that's something I considered myself as I watched. But I'm not sure I believed Betty is Diane's dream version of herself. Also, I think David Lynch has a feeling about how everything fits together, yet I don't know if he's even settled on an explanation for everything. He just trusted his subconscious and he's so confident in his latent abilities, that we trust him to show us everything we need to see and take us everywhere we need to go.

I enjoy how it's a surrealist answer to SUNSET BOULEVARD. I hope in 2050, someone makes "The 405" really tying all these movies and Los Angeles roads together.

MULHOLLAND DRIVE is weird but good. Still, I don't know if, to me, it's more weird than good. It's also funny. But is it funny because it's weird or because it's actually, genuinely funny? Are these questions David Lynch actually wants me to ask or does he make it weird on impulse to cover for the fact that the film is simply just weird and based entirely on impulse? MULHOLLAND DRIVE is almost like a parody of a film noir, made by an inter-dimensional alien life-form who studied a bunch of movies from the 40's through the 90's but doesn't have a full grasp on human behavior, and DESPITE THAT, it's more of an emotional experience than a logical one. It's somewhere in between. It's self-indulgent in a way but also very giving. It's a paradox wrapped in an oxymoron wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a coffee-stained napkin covered in cigarette ash locked in a small, blue box.

***

Summing it up: I don't think there's a world where this movie would get a perfect score from me. Because ultimately, for all it's interesting and exciting moments, it's more of a passion project for David Lynch than a piece of entertainment for the audience, no matter how entertaining it may be. To me, it's a vision board more than it is a complete film. And yet, it IS a complete EXPERIENCE. And there's nothing wrong with that.

All of that said, I know David Lynch doesn't really like to give viewers a clear cut, traditional narrative. So, I had a feeling the mystery was just that, a mystery. Or even moreso, the FEELING of a mystery. It's not about where we're going, it's about the journey to the destination. And while the general atmosphere is moody and evocative and often powerful, MULHOLLAND DRIVE plays more like a 2.5 hour piece of music than a cohesive narrative. Maybe that's the best thing about it.

In the distant future, when our way of speaking has become as archaic as the words of Shakespeare are to us, it's the feeling and emotions and images of movies like MULHOLLAND DRIVE that will still have a timeless impact on the future audiences who view them.

#Random Reviews #movie review #review #Mulholland Drive #David Lynch #Missing Frames #Twin Peaks #Naomi Watts #Laura Harring #Ann Miller #Justin Theroux #Dune #existential #surreal

[hoseokutie]

Best Friends Baby 10

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Words: 3.7K

Warnings: Angst, Namjoon confessing his feelings, minor swearing, Namjoon crying, reader crying. 

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

After you and Namjoon’s encounter, seeing each other tonight was all both of you had on your minds. When your lunch break was over you went back to work until your shift was over. 

You anxiously made your way home and rehearsed what you wanted to tell Namjoon.

“So, how have things been going for you and her? No that sounds way too damn hostile.” You pretended to ask, rolling your eyes as you came to a stoplight.

“How about... so why exactly did you avoid me for weeks?” You groaned loudly and rested your head in your hands. 

“What do you think I should say, grapefruit?” You looked down at your growing stomach and smiled at the nickname.

Jimin gave you the idea for the nickname because your stomach was the size of a grapefruit. You smiled at the thought of Jimin and rubbed your stomach.

An aggressive horn from behind you pulled you out of your mini daydream, you jumped in your seat and continued driving again.

You finally pulled into your driveway, cursing at yourself when you looked at the clock and saw that you had returned home later than you planned. You stopped by the gas station and grabbed some snacks and a large sugary drink. 

Your blood sugar was going to rise, but to be fair your hormones overpowered most of your decision making. 

You grabbed your items and quickly shuffled into the house and got settled in, you walked to your bathroom, and started running the water to take a shower. You pulled off your scrubs and exhaled as your body relaxed. 

You stepped into the shower and let out a relaxed sigh as the hot water fell down your body, you grabbed your body wash and started scrubbing off the remnants of the day off of your body.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled at your appearance, you pulled your shirt down over your stomach and rubbed the prominent bump happily. 

You checked your phone when it chimed and alerted you that you had received a text message. It was from Namjoon and he was letting you know that he had just pulled into your driveway. 

Your nerves returned to your body and you could feel your palms become sweaty. 

“We can get through this, we absolutely will get through this” You said to yourself as you looked in your mirror.

You made your way to the front door and opened it up, you smiled as Namjoon walked towards you. You raised an eyebrow in confusion when you saw him carrying two large bags in his hands.

“Do you need help?” You asked, ready to take one of the bags he was carrying.

“Nope, you do not need to be lifting heavy items so don’t.” He responded, walking into the house and placing the bags down in the living room.

You closed the front door after he entered the house and locked it, you followed him into your living room and sat down on the couch. 

You looked at Namjoon in curiosity as he stood in the middle of your living room looking down awkwardly.

“Would you like to have a seat?” You asked, smiling as he nodded his head in response.

“Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why I was just standing there. I’m just a bit anxious I guess.” He sat down next to you on the couch and fidgeted with his hands.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed since neither of you knew what you wanted to say, let alone start a conversation. 

“It’s funny, when we used to talk daily, we always had something to talk about and now we barely know how to even start a conversation.” Namjoon chuckled and you gave him a small smile and a nod.

“You are correct about that Mr. Kim. Wait speaking of that, how is teaching at the new university going?” You asked, trying to start a conversation. 

“It’s going well actually. Wait a minute, how did you know I switched schools?” He asked.

“Your mom posted about it on her Facebook, she even asked if I wanted to stop by and bring you lunch or something.” You replied and he nodded in understanding.

“That wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to do though.” He pointed out and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah I suppose, but that would also be strange. Imagine being a student and seeing your teachers girlfriend and pregnant best friend in the same week.” You shook your head at the idea.

Namjoon frowned at your words and let his hands rest in his lap as he looked down at the carpet. You looked over at Namjoon and sighed out, realizing how harsh your words may have sounded.

“Look, I didn’t mean for it to sound so bad. I just don’t think it’s best if I were to come around your students, with the possibility of Naomi being around as well.” You explained.

“You meant what you said and that’s fine. You can feel how you want to feel.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Okay now I know you’re upset.” You stood up from your spot on the couch and made your way to the kitchen.

“Not once in my statement did I say I was mad, did I?” He stood up and followed you into the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to, your tone of voice said it all.” You grabbed a bottle of water and took a few sips.

Namjoon pressed his tongue against his cheek and chuckled sarcastically while throwing his head back. 

Everything in you wanted to be mad at him, but it was the small things like him throwing his head back that made you forget why you were upset, to begin with. 

“What happened to us?” 

When the question left his mouth the silence between the two of you seemed to have intensified. The tension was so strong that someone could cut it with a knife, you always feared that something like this would happen one day. 

All you could do was stare at Namjoon, trying not to avoid eye contact with him. But when Namjoon was upset about something, the look in his eyes made sure that you knew how he truly felt. 

“We promised that we wouldn’t let anything change us, and now look at how everything is. This fucking sucks, I miss the way things used to be, before all of this shit hit the fan.” His voice lowered towards the end of his mini-rant, he sat down on the stool in the kitchen. 

“I got pregnant.” You answered silently.

Namjoon’s face softened at your answer and slowly made his way over to you. You closed your eyes and regained your composure before walking over to where he was standing. You let your hands rest on his arms and looked up at him.

“I don’t regret getting pregnant by you, I’m glad it was you of all people, but I also wish that we handled things a lot better. We can barely have a conversation without something going wrong. I hate that.” 

Namjoon gently pulled you into his arms and held you close to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing a bit more when you heard sniffles coming from his mouth.

“Namjoon-” You started.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for putting you through all of this. I never meant to hurt you.” Namjoon looked down at you and held your face in his hands.

“I know, I know. It isn’t your fault, please don’t beat yourself up about this. You’re here now and that’s what matters.” You smiled up at him and he returned the gesture.

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his thumb rubbing small circles on your cheeks, you leaned into his touch and your hand’s trailed over up his arms and towards his hands. 

You placed your hands over his and opened your eyes to see him staring down at you.

Your eyes made their way over his lips and you imagined what they would feel like against your own.

“I want to feel your lips against mine.” Namjoon whispered as he continued to rub your cheek with his thumb.

You closed your eyes and sighed sadly, kissing his thumb before moving away from his embrace.

“Namjoon we can’t. This is wrong, you’re with Naomi and I’m seeing someone.” You wiped the few tears from your face and made your way  into the living room again.

“Wait, you’re seeing someone?” Namjoon asked.

You bit your lip nervously and looked up at him, slowly nodding your head as a reply. He slowly sat down next to you and cleared his throat.

“Can I, do I know who it is?” He asked.

You looked over at him and simply nodded in response, fiddling with your fingers to avoid eye contact with him.

“Well uh, I’m happy for you. I really am, you deserve happiness.” He smiled at you and patted your hand.

You grinned at the gesture and leaned over to hug him, this time it was innocent and you felt at ease with the fact that a small part of your truth was out.

“So who is this lucky man of yours?” Your eyes widened as you continued hugging him before you pulled away to clear your throat.

“Well he uh, I want it to be a surprise.” You mentally cursed at yourself for not having an answer sooner.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow at your response and smirked, shaking his head in protest.

“No way, you just don’t want to tell me. You hate keeping secrets. Come on just tell me, it’s not like it’s one of the guys is it?” He laughed at his question and you chuckled nervously. 

“Yeah no of course not.” You shifted your body the opposite way and stared at the wall in front of you.

“Wait a minute, is it actually one of the boys?” He sat up and looked at you, his face held a serious expression. 

You turned to face him and let out an exhausted sigh nodding your head, answering his burning question.

“Well who the hell is it?” His voice raised an octave and you pressed your tongue to the side of your cheek.

“It’s Jimin.” You mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact and talking to him. 

Namjoon sat on your couch in shock, a low chuckle left his mouth and he stood up from his spot on the couch quickly.

You followed behind him and held onto your stomach to help your balance. You grabbed his wrist to keep him in place and he snatched his arm back from you.   

“Namjoon wait a minute! I know it’s sudden and you guys are close but I’m not doing this to spite you! You don’t get to act like this, you can’t shut me out again!” You exclaimed and he stopped in his tracks.

He turned around slowly before walking over to you, he was so close that you were nearly backed into the couch.

“Namjoon…” You whispered, your voice shook as you two stood closer together.

He glared at you and you forced yourself to meet his eyes, you wish you didn’t. Looking into his eyes you didn’t see the man you could call your best friend. You saw someone who was hurt and felt betrayed by not one, but both of his best friends. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered sadly, now you were the one with your hand pressed onto his cheek.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You explained and he looked down while chuckling sadly, wiping his face in the process. 

“I’m not going to stop you from being happy, that’s not my place.” He finally spoke after what felt like the longest silence you could ever experience. 

“Joon-” 

“I just wish that I was the one making you happy.” He confessed, your eyes softened when he turned around and walked to the front door.

“Namjoon please! Don’t leave like this, we were supposed to fix our relationship.” You walked after him and held his hand again, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He stood by the door and reluctantly wrapped his arms around you, basking in the feeling of having you in his arms, where he felt that you truly belonged. 

He pulled back a bit and held your cheeks in his hand, a small smile appearing on his face as he saw just how beautiful you looked, even when you’re crying. 

“I love you Y/N, and I’m always going to love you. Whether it’s platonic or romantic, my love for you will never die, but we can’t keep chasing after each other like this. It’s wrong and not fair to everyone else. I’m always gonna be here for you and the baby no matter what. Trust and believe that, you are always going to have me.” You sniffled more and more as each word left his mouth.

Pulling away from his embrace, you wiped your face and cleared your throat. You smile sadly and finally take a step back from him, it was time for you to let him go.

“I love you Namjoon.” You said and your heart warmed up when a smile appeared on his face.

“I’ll see you soon, this isn’t the last time we’ll talk. I mean it.” He slid his shoes back on and you nodded quickly. 

“You better text me when you get home. I mean it.” You playfully pointed a finger at him and he laughed.

“Yes ma’am I will. You let me know if our angel has any sudden changes or movements.” He crouched down and kissed your covered stomach.

“Be good for mommy.” He left one more kiss on your stomach before he stood up, groaning as his body relaxed.

“Old ass.” You playfully mumbled and he pouted cutely. 

“You aren’t getting any younger either” He crossed his arms and smirked looking down at you.

“You’re lucky I’m pregnant.” You gently hit his arm and roll your eyes.

“Are you hungry? I don't want you to be on the road hungry. You make bad decisions and complain when your stomach is on fire the next day ” You grabbed your phone and began scrolling through your apps looking for food delivery.

“I always am, is that even a question?” He took your phone from your hands and threw himself on the couch.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” You sat at the end of the couch and moved his feet so that you could sit comfortably.

“It be like that sometimes.” He shrugged and you pinched his legs,

“You’re the worst.” 

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

After your meal, you and Namjoon sat in the kitchen and finally caught up. You wiped your mouth with a napkin and shook your head as he told you another crazy story from work.

“I’m trying to tell you, students will do what they can for a good grade. And you are attractive so it makes sense.” You sipped your glass of water and Namjoon shuddered at your comment. 

“Yeah I refuse to go to jail simply because a student wants to pass the class, no thank you.” He put more food in his mouth.

The sound of your doorbell ringing caused both you and Namjoon’s heads to shoot up.

“Do you have more food coming?” He asked and you stood up from your seat.

“No, do you?” You questioned, walking to the front door slowly.

You used your toes to see who it was through the peephole, an eyebrow raised in confusion when you saw Jimin on the other side. 

“Who is it?” He stood up and walked over, standing behind you.

“Nobody, go away.” You tried to push him back to his seat, he gently moved you to the side and opened the door. 

Jimin and Namjoon froze as they locked eyes with one another, Jimin nervously ran a hand through his black hair and Namjoon cleared his throat.

“Jimin, hey.” Namjoon spoke first, you felt as though the room had suddenly gotten smaller as the awkwardness rose. 

“Hey! I was uh, I just dropped Jungkook off and decided to check on Vanessa. See how she’s feeling and if she liked the food from earlier today.” Jimin was punching the air in his head at how shitty of an excuse that was.

“You wanted to drive over here and get her answer in person?” Namjoon leaned against the door.

“Alright that’s enough.” You successfully moved Namjoon from the front door and pulled Jimin inside. 

“Jimin, Namjoon knows about us, we can stop pretending now, please.” You told him quickly and pressed a hand to your forehead after barely breathing through that sentence.

“O-oh.” He stuttered lowly and looked over at the older man who hadn’t stopped staring at him since he walked into your living room. 

“Namjoon, I’m sorry you had to find out like that. I should’ve been honest and told you how I was feeling from the beginning. I can totally understand if you want to never speak to me again or want to punch me in the face.” Jimin told him and Namjoon’s eyes widened. 

“Jimin what! No, I am not going to punch you. Am I upset? Of course I am, but I also can’t be mad.” Namjoon shrugged and sat back down on the stool.

Jimin looked over at you and you looked back at him, shrugging in confusion. You walked into the kitchen and sat back on your chair across from Namjoon.

Jimin followed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, Namjoon looked at the two people in front of him and watched as the two of them interacted.

“You two are cute.” He blurted out, you and Jimin stopped giggling and pulled  away from one another.

“Namjoon, you don’t have to pretend, you can be real with us. If it makes you uncomfortable we will stop.” You told him and he waved you off. 

“No I mean it, I can see how happy he makes you and that's all I could ask for.” He confessed and you smiled.

You moved from Jimin’s embrace and walked over to Namjoon, hugging him as he sat in the chair. He returned the favor and rubbed his hand up and down your back before pulling away.

“I do need to get going quite soon, but before I forget, I got you something.��� He stood up and grabbed those two bags that he came with earlier.

“Oh lord, more gifts I see.” You smiled and placed a hand on your stomach as he set the bags on the kitchen island. 

“First, I got you some stretch mark cream, Your mom recommended it, so I bought it. I got some chewable heartburn tablets, also recommended  by your mom.” He handed you the small containers and you sat them on the counter.

“Namjoon, you didn’t have to do all of this.” You smiled as he handed you a box of herbal teas as well.

“Since you can’t have coffee and sodas anymore I got the next best thing, and it makes you sleepy when you’re tired and is safe for the baby.” He said proudly. 

“And then I got a journal for you to track everything, a water bottle so you can watch your intake, and a teddy bear. You can use it whenever you need a cuddle or something.” He emptied the bag and you and Jimin stared at the island in awe. 

“Namjoon thank you so much for all of this, I love everything. I really do.” You moved down from your spot and hugged your best friend tightly.

Jimin watched as you two hugged and felt at ease that his best friends were talking again. 

“I’m glad, I’m gonna head out now but if you need anything do not hesitate to call me. No matter what time it is, just let me know and I’ll be on my way.” He kissed you on your forehead before he gave Jimin a quick hug. 

“Goodnight Namjoon.” Jimin said, patting his best friend on the back. Namjoon did the same before he pulled away and began walking to the front door.

“‘I’ll see you in a few weeks for her next appointment.” You told him, holding the front door open for him.

“You definitely will, and I’m gonna try to see you before that.” He leaned on the door and looked down at you.

“Sounds like a plan, until next time my friend.” You stood up fully and he followed your actions nodding his head.

“Until next time, tiny human.” He did a fake salute, and walked in the direction of his car.

You watched him walk to his car and stood outside until he drove off and he was no longer within your sight.

You closed the front door and locked it, Jimin opened a box of tea and started making it the way you liked.

“So how was it before I got here?” He asked, waiting for the water on the stove to boil.

Flashbacks from your emotional conversation appeared in your mind and you blinked them away, not wanting to be reminded of earlier.

“It was alright, we cried a little, but we finally figured things out. And he knows about you and I so I say there’s some progress.” You walked up to him and he wrapped his arms around you securely.

“I guess that is a great thing, now it’s time to tell everyone else about our situation.” He looked down at you and you groaned at the thought of telling more people.

“Baby steps Jimin, baby steps.” 

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