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amberjazmyn · 6 months

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mark feehily one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - home sweet home

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - none, just a sweet brother/sister moment of mark getting surprised by his sister coming home after training to be a paramedic in america for the last seven years, swearing, happy crying and just some sweet reunions

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - delilah feehily had been stationed in america for the last seven years as a training paramedic. she is also mark's younger sister and hasn't seen him during those seven years. the last time she had seen her brother was just after it had been announced that westlife was ending and now they were reuniting again. since then, more westlife babies had been born and so many things that delilah had missed had happened. so, with the help of the rest of the westlife family, she surprised her older brother.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - a couple of flashbacks will be in this and written in italics like always, even though it's happy, it'll be written in lowercase and i'm gonna apologise once again for the influx of depressing one-shots so i hope this makes you forgive me!

masterlist

- - -

present time | mark's pov

chilling in my dressing room before a concert was always the thing that i did during the years in westlife and it was something i even did now, during the reunion tour. except for the occasional run-in from one of the children, it was quite quiet which led me to find an old message between me and my younger sister. i tilted my head in confusion but, i sat in my chair properly, my feet off of the desk, and read the message from delilah.

delilah

hey, marky. i know we haven't spoken in ages, since i left being the "ages" but, i just wanted to text you to let you know i love you, i miss and i am so proud of you.

it makes me so excited that westlife are reuniting and i only wish that i could be there to see it! i know you and the lads will smash it out of the park! love you!

hey delilah, i miss you too and i love you too. and we're all excited to be back together again. we also wish you could be here! kian now has another two boys, nicky now has a little girl and, as you would know, cailean and i are about to become dads ourselves! see you soon, whenever that is!

i really am sorry that i can't be there. and i know about kian's new one, cobi and i also know about nicky's girl. and obviously, i know about you and cailean's surrogacy journey! congratulations and biggest hugs to you guys! okay, i need to go but, we can talk later. i love you marky and stay safe xx

read

i felt my eyes water as i reread these messages. especially when i noticed that these dates dated back to around, 2017ish when cobi, kian's youngest had just been born and zekey and gia were no longer the new westlife babies anymore. my heart broke as i realised i didn't even respond to delilah's last message she sent me back in 2017, i only read it and never responded. even though it was a very short conversation, it was still a nice conversation to have with my sister as i hadn't talked to her at that point in a couple of years. and that reason is that delilah, basically the day after westlife had their final concert, she was over in america as a training paramedic, travelling through all the places to teach families and young kids about the importance of first aid. and those last two farewell shows at croke park being the last time me and my bandmates had seen her before she jet-setted off.

"you alright, marky?" i suddenly look up to notice kian, had snuck his way into my dressing room and joined me, resting himself against the table as i smiled at him, nodding my head

"yeah, i'm alright kino, just...thinking..." i trailed off as i placed my phone down, forgetting to turn it off as kian catches a glimpse of what i was looking at

"...you miss delilah don't you?" kian softly responded as we both caught eye contact as i nodded my head

"yeah, i do. i don't even know how i came past that conversation, i must have been absentmindedly scrolling through the messages...wow, two years ago we had that conversation..." i trail off, looking back down at the date we had that small conversation, realising ultimately that it was almost three years ago, not two

"...well, have you tried calling her?" kian sincerely questions as i sit up properly again as i tilt my head - have i?

"i...i don't think i have..." i space out for a second until i bring myself back into reality as kian places a soft touch on my shoulder

"...well, when was the last time you tried calling her?" kian asked, pulling himself back to his original position as i relax my shoulders down as i think properly

"i think the last time i tried calling her was a week after the farewell tour when she had been gone for maybe a little close to a week at that point..." i was shocked at myself as those words came out my mouth, kian giving me a comforting smile

"...well, do you maybe want to try calling her then? i'm sure it won't hurt to try," kian whispered, giving me a small smile as he then climbed off the table leaving me to call her. however, it kind of scared me to call delilah

"i guess so..." i mumbled as kian gave me one last smile before it was just me left in my dressing room again

well, here i go. i decided that i'd try to call delilah for the first time in threeish years. it gave me anxiety hearing the phone call ring as for all i knew, maybe she forgot about me due to how much of a workaholic she was when it came to her job as a paramedic. maybe that's why she never came home when she had the chance to... because she was too focused on her job she forgot about me. i mean, it sounds plausible i guess.

"hey, it's delilah..."

"...delilah i miss--"

"--sorry that i couldn't be there to pick up the phone and talk to you. i'm most likely either in the shower jamming to westlife, ssh don't tell mark, i'm at work or i am purposefully ignoring you. please leave a message and i'll get to you as soon as i possibly can. love you so much to whoever has rung me and i'm sorry for not picking up, okay, bye-bye!"

my heart broke as i heard her voicemail. she still hadn't updated it from the day she first made it, at the airport before she was about to leave for america after the final croke park show back in 2012. i remember holding in my giggles as she made it. as soon as the recording stopped, i burst out into laughter and caused the entire airport to stare at us. delilah also finding the funny in the situation. i was then interrupted by the sudden beep meant for my message.

*beep*

i jolted as i then spoke up, giving my message to delilah. my voice shaky and a little bit teary as i sniffled.

"...hey...delilah, it's been a while since we last spoke. around three years to be exact but um, i...i just wanted to ring in to check on you considering it's been seven years or so since you've been in america and i was just wondering how you're going. i hope you're staying safe and, please come home soon, i love you and i miss you loads, okay, umm, please call me back when you're able to listen to this, okay, bye."

i gulped as i ended the call, placing my phone back down on the table that kian was sitting on earlier. i then moved out of my seat and rested against the wall, sliding down it as i felt as though i was going to start crying. thankful my door was closed and locked so no one, even the kids, could come in.

five minutes later | kian's pov

since leaving mark to attempt in ringing delilah, his younger sister who has been a training paramedic in america for the last seven or so years, i was slightly worried about leaving him alone. especially considering it's been around three years since they last communicated and we were hours, if not minutes away from performing a concert for our reunion.

i was walking back down the hallway to my dressing room when i heard what sounded like soft cries. it piqued my interest as mark's dressing room was always on a diagonal from mine. i softly knocked on the door, before hearing a click, letting me know the door was just unlocked as i walked in, closing the door behind me straight away.

he was resting against the wall, no longer sitting near his vanity desk and my heart broke, "...mark, what's wrong?" i softly questioned, sliding down the wall next to mark as he slowly looked over towards me

"she...she didn't answer, it was just her voicemail," mark whispered as my heart shattered for him

"oh, marky, i am so sorry. did you try again?" i asked as i brought his fragile but taller frame into my smaller one as i felt his head shake against my shoulders

"no," he mumbled against my shoulder as i bit my lip, not knowing what else to do

"why not?" i simply respond as mark sniffles

"hearing her voicemail from seven years ago makes me miss her even more...since that's the last time i heard her speak so i don't even know if she still sounds like that..." he trails off as i nod my head - yeah, i get the same feeling when i miss my own mum and i try to ring her and it goes to voicemail, making me not want to try again even though i know her voice wouldn't have changed that much

"that's fair. have you gotten in contact with her superintendent to make sure she's okay?" i questioned as i remembered that as a group, we had talked about it, all wanting to stay in the loop about delilah

"yeah but, they...they haven't really been giving me any updates recently so i don't even know what's going on at their end right now," he mumbles as i nod my head

"that's not fun but i'm sure delilah isn't ignoring you on purpose. just, be as positive as you can and just know that one day, delilah will have to come home since she wasn't even meant to be in america and with this job for this long anyway," i smirk as mark gives me a little smirk back which makes me happy, we all hated to see mark upset

i then decided to give mark a hug before leaving him on his own, knowing he needed it this time and now, i knew he'd be okay.

seven years ago | mark's pov

i had never hated anything more than what was happening right now, and last night, westlife just ended forever. right now, my younger sister delilah was getting ready for her new job as a training paramedic somewhere in america. i say "somewhere" because i completely zoned out as soon as it was mentioned that delilah was being sent away in the first place, i just had the impression that she'd be sent to england. i didn't want to hear about the fact that she'd be across a whole damn ocean, six or so hours away. and i'd rather not be told that she's that far away from me that if anything was to go wrong, i can't just be there in an hour or two.

"...come on markus, say goodbye to your sister as she'll be gone for a couple of years before you can speak to her again. don't be moody, please," dad kindly spoke as i rolled my eyes, i sluggishly moved off the airport seat, uncrossed my arms and slowly walked over to delilah who was waiting with her arms open for a hug - to which she knew i could never say no to

"fine, but don't blame me when i yell at you every other day for not allowing me to be an hour away from delilah just in case she gets injured because it won't be my fault!" i growl out, half of it mumbled by delilah's tight squeeze as i rested in her hug, mum and dad shaking their heads at me in unapproving ways

"oh please, mark, that's never going to happen, buddy! i won't let it happen!" delilah whispers as dad, mum, our brothers and the westlife family had left the two of us alone

"and how in god's name are you so sure of that delilah grace, huh?" i respond, with a full-on passive-aggressive attitude as she rolls her eyes, squeezing me tighter as she tries to prove her point

"i'm so sure of that markus michael patrick because i was trained exceptionally well and there is no way in hell or god's name that i'm leaving you on your own! nah-uh, not until i surprise you at one of your concerts, whether that's when westlife reunites or at one of your solo shows then i'm leaving you, even then, i'll always be here for you, okay?" delilah roughhoused me, in the airport yes, as she tried to convince me, leaving me to roll my eyes this time

"nah-uh, i'm still not letting you leave, nope! nope, nope, nope, NOPE!" i growl as i squeeze delilah even tighter than before as she softly chuckles, scuffing my hair up, to which i had no care about really

"i hate to burst your imaginative bubble markus but, i'm still leaving. i have to otherwise i could be fined a lot of money for not going..." delilah trails off as she tries to remove herself from my grip, to which i refuse and hug her tighter

"...i.don't.care! i'd rather have to help pay for your fines for not leaving to work in america as a stupid paramedic than be told that you got injured or died in a fucking school shooting over the phone whilst i'm potentially on stage at a solo gig and then having to cry my eyes out at your funeral two months later when they finally bring your body home!" i growl, still mad that mum and dad even allowed delilah to consider her choosing this weird training paramedic job in america, delilah sighs loudly as she brings her arms back around my torso, hugging me even tighter

"i'm sorry mark but, i do care. and, whilst i also don't want you guys to get a call saying i died or got injured in america and wait two months for my fancy-schmancy funeral, i'm willing to do this job in america if it means i'm teaching life-saving skills. i don't want to argue with you, i know you don't either so, be reasonable and let me leave," delilah says in a matter-of-fact way as i roll my eyes again, a small whine leaving my mouth as if i was about to have a full-on tantrum, to which, i most likely was, in a public airport with my now former bandmates behind me and the rest of my family

"why are you so proud of this job? i'd rather you be on tour with me!" i whine, smacking my head on delilah's shoulder as she chuckles

"i'm proud because i've always been proud of everything i do and that includes my job as a training paramedic in america. and you know i'd love to go on tour with you but, i can't so, it looks as though you're just going to have to survive with me being away in a different country to you," delilah said with a smile as we both simultaneously squeezed each other, causing us to both squeal and giggle

"well, if i have to let you leave then, when will i talk to you next?" i question, pulling back out of the hug as delilah grabs ahold of my hand

"umm, i think i have a couple of days where i have off that i can ring and communicate with those i didn't get to farewell but, yeah, i think that's the next time i can talk to you," delilah smiles which makes me smile, making me feel slightly better

"okay, nice. when will i be able to see you again? like, when will you be able to come home?" i then ask as i entertain myself by fiddling around with delilah's fingers which were intertwined with mine

"it...it'll be soon i'm sure mark," delilah smiles, pulling me into another quick hug before grabbing my hand again as i nod my head sadly

"how soon is soon?" i ask with a shake in my voice, looking up at the clock knowing her flight was about to be called to board soon

"mark soon will be as soon as i am able to leave. i promise, now, i really need to leave, my plane's about to board!" delilah said as i pouted and my eyes grew sad as i huffed loudly

"ok, but promise me you'll come home safely, please?" i whimper my voice breaking as delilah smiles softly

"i promise mark, but, i gotta go," she whispers as she gives me one last hug before giving her last hugs to everyone else

okay, maybe what i said before was mean, i am awfully proud of delilah that she chose this as her job. it was wrong of me to say that i'm mad at mum and dad for allowing her to consider and then choose it eventually. i then saw my former bandmates, kian, nicky and shane give their final hugs and farewells to delilah. watching that whilst it broke my heart, also made it feel warm that even though i'd no longer see those three every day, i could still pick up my phone and call them without hesitation and i'd do the same for them. even though i was farewelling two major things in my life, westlife and my younger sister, i knew that i would eventually be okay again.

we then watched on as delilah and her fellow training paramedics boarded the plane. we waved, cheered, and hollered, making the biggest scene of all time as she then vanished into the plane where it became silent again.

"...well, now she's gone mark," dad came up from behind me, wrapping his arm around my back, i huffed and rolled my eyes

"thanks for reminding me dad, it isn't like i wasn't watching it happen," i huff as dad pulls me down to sit on the airport floor with him - knowing something was wrong

"okay markus, what's wrong? you've been like this all day, why can't you be proud of your younger sister like she's proud of you?" dad muttered kindly as my lips started to tremble

"i am proud of her dad it's just--"

"--it's hard to see her go after you've watched westlife go?" he interrupts as i nod my head, a small whimper coming out of my mouth, dad's face softens, noticing the tears welling in my eyes and pulls me into his lap, his knees bracing my head

"mhm," i mumble as i feel the tears pool in my eyes as dad softly ruffles his fingers through my hair

"oh, mark, it's okay son," dad whispers as i feel a tear stream down my cheek onto dad's knee as i attempt to wipe it away whilst laying awkwardly on the airport floor halfway on my dad's lap

"no, it's not," i whimper, covering my mouth with my arm that rested across dad's lap so my whimpering would be quieter

"fine, i'll rephrase my answer *mark softly chuckles* it will be okay mark, delilah will be okay. she's going to come home and she'll message and call us when she's able to, okay? you've got nothing else to worry about other than what you're going to do now that westlife's finished, whether that's you going into the studio to write some new material or going on holiday, doesn't matter, okay?" dad smiled as he continued combing his fingers through my hair which was starting to really calm me down

"thanks, dad," i mumble with a small smile on my lips as i look up to see him also smiling

"no worries mark, i get how you're feeling. trust me, i wasn't too rapt about delilah being a training paramedic in america either but, i made her promise me she would come home and, she promised. i'm holding on to that promise so if she breaks it, i'll never forget it and i would've wished i made her come home when i had the power to, but, right now, i've made peace with her decision and, i'm proud of her," dad was always so wise and inspirational and it made me giggle

"that's a fair deal. anyway, how are the westlife kids taking this? nicole especially since she adores her aunty delilah," i ponder as i just realise, i've only really interacted with my immediate family, not with the westlife lads or their kids and partners

"that's a good question, mark, last i saw of her her dad was trying to calm her down as she wasn't taking the thought of aunty delilah leaving well either," dad said, shrugging his shoulders as i awkwardly nodded my head that still rested on his lap

"aw, i hope she's okay," i mumble softly, feeling the exact same way as little nicole

"i'm sure she is. but maybe she just needs her uncle marky to give her a hug to make her feel a little bit better," dad coaxes me to get up as i giggle softly

"okay, fine, i'll go find her!" i giggle as i lift my head up off dad's lap, giving him a hug as i then walk over to shane, his wife gillian and their three kids, noticing the upset little nicole straight away

present time | mark's pov

after maybe about five minutes of just thinking and allowing myself to go back to that day seven odd years ago, i could smile again. after being so upset that i wasn't just losing one thing in my life, westlife or delilah, but both at the same time, it didn't make me so upset anymore because westlife had since reunited. even though delilah hadn't come home yet and i still miss her all the time, i remembered that she's just working hard all the time to give out life-saving first aid skills and at some stage, she'll come home.

"...mark, we're on stage in five," kian calls out, popping his head into my dressing room as i giggle

"thanks kino, be there shortly," i giggle as kian also giggles, hesitating to move out of the way

giggling, i ask him to move, "oh my god, move, kian! i can't leave my dressing room with you standing right there!" i chuckle as kian smiles, apologies and leaves quickly leaving me slightly confused

twenty-ish minutes ago | delilah's pov

trying to hold in my laughter was the hardest thing ever, especially watching kian forget to leave after telling mark that it was five minutes to stage. little did mark know, after seven and a bit years, i was finally retiring from my job as a training paramedic and decided to relocate back home to sligo, ireland. with my transfer back to the sligo ambulance service, and some good-looking time off, i'd be able to go on the road with westlife during their reunion tour and be there for the moment that mark and his partner cailean become fathers to their baby.

i had snuck into the aviva stadium, in dublin pretty quickly, out of my uniform completely and just waiting for the right moment to surprise mark, whether that's just before he goes on stage or whilst he's on stage with the boys, during a song.

kian, nicky and shane hugged me tightly as we waited for the right time but had a quiet conversation as we all waited for mark to leave his dressing room for the five minutes to stage call.

after asking and catching up with the lads about the reunion and how they've all been, including mark, we then mentioned how we think he was going to react to me finally being home.

"...honestly, i genuinely think mark's going to freak when he sees you, delilah..." kian smiles, his arms crossed over as nicky rolls his eyes before jumping in

"...he's not just going to freak, kino, he's going to cry when he sees you, delilah!" nicky says dramatically as we all giggle, especially when kian's annoyed face makes an appearance

"and as i was going to say before nicky interrupted me, he is absolutely going to lose his head when he sees you, he is absolutely going to cry. i mean, seven years, like, no sir, i couldn't even do that, especially without contact, nah-uh, nope, i struggled not being able to talk to koa and jodi when i did i'm a celebrity *giggles*," kian huffed as we all giggled as we all agreed

"yeah, i couldn't do this job again, especially in a different country for seven years without breaks," i mutter with a shake of my head as we all have another group hug

present day | kian's pov

the lads and me were now performing on stage and getting ready to surprise the absolute crap out of mark. delilah, his younger sister as we all know, just came back from a seven-year paramedic job in america. the first time she's been home and seen mark since she left back in 2012 and, he has got no clue whatsoever and is absolutely clueless about it.

we were laughing, singing, and having an absolute ball when i watched carefully for the moment that delilah would walk on stage for the surprise. i suddenly received the all-clear from louis, our manager so i then gave the signal to delilah and, she walked right onto stage.

thankfully, mark had just finished his solo in flying without wings so it was basically the end of the song, the lights, however, hadn't dimmed as delilah came up behind her brother and wrapped her arms around her brother's neck, giving him a hug.

watching the confusion on his face was priceless as he then turned around and boom, i was basically a mess straight away, "delilah? what the fuck are you doing here?" mark was in so much shock that it was as though he was in a different universe completely

"did you forget the promise we made to each other seven years ago?" delilah giggled as the crowd along with me and the lads erupted into cheers as we watch the siblings pull each other in for a hug

"oh my god, you...you're home!" mark quickly and shakily hands me his microphone and pulls his sister in for a proper hug as tears fill his eyes

"home sweet home, markus!" she whispered back as me, shane and nicky watched on as the siblings reunited after seven long years

"that promise was from seven fucking years ago!" mark cried out as he smacked her which made everyone tearfully laugh now that almost everyone was in tears at this point

"still didn't break it, mark! i'm here, am i not? now, get back to work, you and the lads have a concert to finish!" delilah giggled as mark rolled his eyes, reluctantly moving from the hug to let nicky, me and shane give her hugs again even though we were the planners of the surprise

"so, for those who are not aware, this is delilah, mark's younger sister and she has been away in america for the last seven years as a training paramedic. where in which she has been basically going around from state to state teaching and training underfunded and young kids very important and life-saving first aid skills. she left the day after we had our final farewell gig back at croke park all the way back in 2012 which feels like forever ago but was indeed seven years ago. and has only just returned so, we decided that after we were told by a little birdy that she was coming home that we'd plan this entire surprise for mark," i explained, smiling tearfully as mark smiled back

the crowd screamed as mark went to speak again, "awe, thanks for the surprise guys! very sweet of you, thank you!" mark smiles, leaning into me to thank me as he then hugs his sister again

"no problem, if we could, we'd do it all over again," delilah called out making all of us laugh

delilah had then left the stage so we could finish the concert which went amazing, no mistakes, no nothing, just pure happiness and dedication to our concert. then, at the end of the concert, i watched as the brother and sister spent more time together, it was the sweetest thing and that wasn't me just saying that. i would genuinely do this surprise all over again just to see that shocked look on mark's face when he realised it was delilah that had surprised him.

but, the best part of overhearing that conversation was mark's reaction when delilah told him she'd be joining us for the rest of the uk and irish tour.

- - -

ok, this was so much fun to write and so happy and perfect. sorry that it ended so abrudtly but i didn't know what else to do lol. however, in saying that, i do like how it ends more than i thought i would have. cause it kind of leaves it open for interpretation as to what the lads and delilah did after they left the concert venue which gives you guys some creative freedom to kind of end it however you would like to.

ok ily bye xx

wc; 5066

#westlife #mark feehily #kian egan #nicky byrne #shane filan #fluff #home sweet home #military homecoming one-shot

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mine-curse · 3 years

Text

I uhh... lost my shit over this so uhh... I delt with my feelings by writing fanfiction, sorta. Its mostly just a drabble and half way to just being like, a summary meta post but 🤷‍♂️ Uhh also fair warning, I haven't written anything thats not a script in a while, and its been like 10 years since I really tried to write a fanfiction. Also misspelling and grammar errors incoming.

Uhh... cw for talk of death and imortality, aging and not, vague allusions to apathy towards death... nothing too serious, just like... thats what its about.

"Technoblade never dies."

The first time he heard those words were in hushed tones, rippling through a dingy tavern, flying with the rumors that the famed gladiator Technoblade would soon be visiting the local collisiem.

Ohkay, sure, what ever you say mate.

He couldn't help chuckling as he sipped his beer. He knew a thing or two about not dieing.

---

It was a blistering hot day as he settled in to a seat, high in the stands of the grand coliseum. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he'd happened to find himself staying in town a few extra days to see this supposedly invincible warrioir. The stands were packed and the excitement of the crowd was tangible.

The other combatants were introduced first. The announcer clearly saving the 'best' for last. The crowd going wild as Technoblade stepped onto the feild. He was a massive... man? Pigman? Towering over the other fighters. Wearing a thick red cloak, he must be sweltering in this heat.

The second the starting bell rang Technoblade moved, shockingly light on his feet. He dodged and countered with honed instinctual accuracy. He moved from one attack to another, one opponent to another, with frightening efficiency.

As the fight went on, the crowd became dominated by one single chant.

"Technoblade never dies!"

Somewhere, deep in Phil's mind. A tiny spark found some kindling.

is he..?

-----

Diamond blade met diamond blade as the two clashed. Blue eyes met blood red and somehow, it seemed neither could look away.

Is he?

He couldn't be.

Phil spread his wings, and, taking advantage of Technoblade's momentary shock at this revelation, broke the stalemate. leaping backwards, his opponent awkwardly lurching forward as he took to the sky. He looked down at the pigman, who was staring back up at him. Though they had broken apart, the stalemate continued. Technoblade probably could have thrown his sword and hit Philza. Philza could have drawn his bow, and taken a shot, taken out this unkillable foe. Technoblade never dies. Well, if that were true it would just be a waste of arrows to try.

-----

Its was another while before they met properly. How long, he couldn't quite be sure. But Technoblade looked no older than he had on that battle feild. So it probably hadn't been too long. Then again he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to judge how old a pigman was. This time they were on the same side. One of many two-person wrecking squads, sent behind enemy lines to do as much damage as possible.

"Bet we get way more kills than everybody else."

That was not empty confidence. "You think? There's supposed to be some strong people in this fight."

"Come on, you're Philza Minecraft, you actually know what you're doing! And I'm really good at stabbin' people."

He laughed, Phil chuckled along. "I'll just try to play support, scout and keep guys off you while you do your stabbing."

Technoblade gave a laugh, "Appriciate it," he clasped a clawed hand on Phil's shoulder, "We got this!"

Phil noticed, as they fought, Technoblade seemed to grow more used to having a partner. Stopped covering all sides with frenetic energy, and just let Phil cover his back, allowing him to focus on tearing through warrior after warrior. As they fought they laughed, setting off TNT, drawing opponents into traps. It was exhilarating, fighting with someone so powerful. Someone who was... like...

Me...?

-----

As time passed, Techno stayed the same, at least pysically. Same voice, same features, only more and more scars. But no matter how grievous the injuries that lead to those scars, it seemed nothing could truly harm him. He always made it out alive. The rumors and chants were true, Technoblade never dies. Together, they always made it out alive with a laugh.

He'd saved Phil's life on more than one occasion. A particularly nasty run in with a baby zombie had seemed to leave the unshakable Technoblade quite shaken. So Phil tried, tried to be a little more careful, at least for now, for Techno's sake.

-----

Philza would go off on his own for a while. Each time, dread would build for the inevitable moment he'd return and find his friend changed, grown in grey fur, developed that telltale rasp to his voice that signaled the inevitability of his mortality. Or maybe one day Phil would simply hear that he had already died, and that would be that. In some ways, he might prefer that. He wouldn't have to face... It. But Techno never changed, his voice stayed as full and booming as it ever was. He stayed as strong and graceful as the first day Phil had seen him.

Maybe it was just... less time had passed than he'd thought. His life had been a bit more eventful recently, mostly due to the time he spent with Techno. And that always had a way of slowing things down. Maybe pigmen, piglins (?) (he still wasn't sure), just aged much slower than humans. But maybe...

Is he...

Maybe it was better not to think about it too much. Yeah, better to just... enjoy his company, however long it lasted. Whether or not Technoblade would or would not never die was.. out of his hands anyways. Well, mostly. They kept fighting together, always watching each other's backs. He couldn't really say how much time had passed. He'd stopped bothering to keep track. It didn't really matter. They had somehow fallen in step with each other, and if that simply meant Phil was once again experiencing the flow of time as a mortal would, well, that was fine by him. But somewhere, deep in his mind, he had to hope, even if the fear of that hope being crushed kept him from finding the answer. Technoblade never dies. Maybe it was true. Maybe it could be...

Is he like me?

#technoblade #philza #dsmp #dsmp fanfiction #i have a lot of feelings #an evil part of me wants to make parts of this into a comic #but... i dont got time for that #i dont...#technoblade fanfiction #philza fanfiction #gggg im just gonna post this instead of obsessing over it... gotta.. get used to putting stuff out there...#philza: this is my best friend hes a funny pigman hes probably mortal but im too scared to find out how does time work anyways? who caresss #techno: philza... its been 200 years #emerald duo

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kozu-chan · 3 years

Text

synopsis: keeping up with a society that expects you to be perfect is exhausting in every way possible. you're lucky enough to have found someone who relates to navigate this brutal world with.

content warnings: fem! reader, cursing, insults, bullying if you squint, mentions of insecurity, a bit of fighting, mentions of mental health, and sakusa might be ooc but that's just to make the arguments a little more dramatic.

sour masterlist

growing up, you were a perfectionist. although this wasn't necessarily your fault, was it? at the young age of four, your parents discovered that you were, and maybe still are, gifted with talent for music. this led to years of guitar, piano, violin, flute, singing, and even harp lessons. throughout the years, you went through many concerts and hours upon hours of practicing your various instruments. this led you to attend the infamous itachiyama academy in high school and that was only the beginning of your troubles.

as a perfectionist, you dedicate yourself not only to your music, but to your studies as well. sadly, even you can't manage to balance school, music, sleep, and a social life and one of those things have to give due to your busy schedule, so you sacrifice your social life. sometimes you think that this was the wrong move because that just makes high school practically a living hell for you. that is, until about a week ago.

last week, you had a regular morning. you walk through the halls of your school and people do their best to avoid you, to not get in your way. however, that doesn't stop them from gossiping about you. "wow look at l/n. little miss perfect." "i dare you to talk to her!" "she's such an ice cold perfectionist." "i could never be friends with her. she's too serious." "does this bitch even have a life?" you ignore the comments as you make your way to your first class. sometimes you just want to yell at them to stop talking about you. to tell them how much it hurts you and how being such a perfectionist is exhausting. to let them know that their comments only add to how lowly you think of yourself. that you wish that you had even one friend because you feel so alone.

after school, you spend hours in the music room practicing a song you were thinking of performing, something self-written as a way of releasing your emotions. and once you think your practice is sufficient, you curl up against the wall and cry.

once your crying session is done, you get up and walk back to your dorm. on the way back, you see someone in the gym do an insane serve that slams down that just barely makes it in. you hear a groan of frustration followed by the oh so familiar sound of breath getting shaky due to crying. your gaze follows the sound to see the figure on the floor crying and your breath gets caught in your throat when you realize it's not just any player, but one of the top three aces in japan, sakusa kiyoomi.

"sakusa-san?" sakusa looks at you with what looks like a bit of fear but anger replaces his expression before you could confirm your suspicions. "what the fuck are you doing here? this is a private practice." his tone is cold, firm, and piercing. you could feel a chill run down your spine, but you ignore the feeling because other people, especially your parents, have been on the receiving end on your own tone that sounds just as menacing. the only indicator of crying being the red, slightly watery eyes that you can't help but sympathize with. "what are you staring at?" you snap out of your thoughts to respond to him. "i saw you on my way back to my room. i just happened to see you crying and i-"

sakusa sighs again in frustration. "and you what? just shut up and leave me alone!" "i just know what it's like, okay? you really think that you're the only one who's tired of not feeling good enough? the only one who's cried because you just want to get better but you don't see any improvement no matter how much you practice?" your voice is loud and yet on the verge of tears. you glace at sakusa, who now looks angrier but you don't care. "so sue me if i come off as a ice cold bitch who doesn't talk to anyone because i do anything and everything i can to be perfect even if i always fall short and sue me for sympathizing with you."

the room grows quiet, save for the sounds of your shaky breathing as you try your best to calm down before you actually start breaking down in front of him. it takes another few seconds before sakusa stands up and walks up to you. "l/n, right? yeah well you don't know me and you should just get out of my sight. you shouldn't be trying to get someone to stop crying if you're just going to cry yourself. just relax more." relax more? "that's rich coming from you." you're no longer crying and sakusa stops in his tracks.

"you're telling me to relax more when you don't seem to have any chill... ever. and let's not forget that your crying was what brought into the gym in the first place." you take a deep breath to calm yourself. "so... the gym is like your safe space, right?" sakusa doesn't answer, clearly exasperated and silently begging you to leave. "c'mon, sakusa-san! you can tell me!" you smile a little when he opens his mouth to talk, only to be disappointed by his response. "god, you're such an annoying bitch. go find someone else to bother!" you're disappointed but you're also persistent. after all, you are the one that figures out and teaches all the schoolwork you struggle with to yourself. "if it makes you feel better..." you sigh quietly and contemplate whether or not it was a good idea to expose yourself this much to someone you just started talking to. "if it makes you feel better, my room and the music rooms are my safe spaces." "it really doesn't. if anything, it just makes me feel even more pathetic!" a small smirk graces your features as you realize that you got him. "so this is your safe space? i didn't hear a denial!" sakusa rolls his eyes. "would you shut up already" "not until you admit it." he glares at you and you just look him dead in the eye, causing him to break (probably so you would shut up as he thinks you'll do if he admits it). "fine... the gym is my safe space... that you're encroaching on." you back away slightly because he was right. and you know that you would also be pissed as fuck if someone encroached on your safe space, especially while you were crying. "i'm sorry, i just wanted to help. but, maybe we could be each other's safe spaces?"

you mentally sigh in relief as sakusa looks just the slightest bit more comfortable upon hearing that. "i mean, you know what it's like so... i guess i wouldn't be opposed to that." the two of you give each other a small smile as you sit down a good length away from him. "god, it's brutal out here, huh?" sakusa lets out a small laugh and agrees.

"sakusa, are you really gonna go pro like they say you are?" sakusa looks at you for a second and nods. you even notice his eyes lighting up a little. "yeah, that's what i want. it's what i've wanted for as long as i could remember. i wouldn't work so hard for it and get so dirty if it wasn't my dream... what about you? are you going to become a musician?" now it's your turn to pause. you freeze up. it's been so long since someone's asked you what you wanted. "i... honestly? i don't know what i want anymore. it's been so long since i've been asked what i wanted. it's been so long since someone's seen me outside of the "little miss perfect" that everyone else sees... i don't know." you take a moment to recollect your thoughts. "i just hate the thought of disappointing people that i think i've lost myself in the process. i've been pursuing music for so long that it's familiar, it's instinct, and i can't see myself doing anything else because i haven't done anything else..." your voice gets quieter as you speak. this is the first time you've ever gotten a chance to voice out your thoughts to someone and your own revelations shock you.

"yeah, i think i'm getting there too. losing myself to satisfy everyone while trying to stay true to myself. after all, who am i if not exploited?" it takes a minute to digest the words that were so simple and yet so powerful, the six words that could be used to summarize your entire life. "it sucks, doesn't it? like all i did was try my best, and this is the kind of thanks i get? annoyance and isolation? awards and acknowledges of achievement but at what cost? my social life? my mental health? ... my identity?" sakusa looks like he's going to say something but you shoot him a look and his mouth closes to let you continue. "it's literally so fucking stupid! there's literally no actual reward for me anymore, nothing satisfying. it's all worthless - meaningless, even. sometimes i wish i could disappear..."

a small breath is sucked up and you turn to sakusa. "sorry that was heavy. i've just never had someone to talk to about this. at least not properly."

"i get it. i haven't really had a lot of people to talk to either. at least not that honestly. i'm glad we have each other now, because you were right. it is brutal out here and it's good that we can stick together now."

after that, no one really bothered you anymore and it was all thanks to your new friend and confidant.

a/n: sheesh this is one of the longest things i've written. i really hope you like it and i'm really sorry that i suck at endings!!

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #platonic! sakusa x reader #haikyuu angst #sakusa angst #itachiyama #brutal olivia rodrigo #god it's brutal out here #olivia rodrigo #haikyuu fic #haikyuu songfic #songfic

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loftec · 4 years

Note

Hi i don't know if anyone haven't ask you about it or i'm the only one who wants to read it but CAN YOU PLEASE SHARE YOUR NOTES (ch.44) i don't know if you were serious about that but i really would love to read them cause i'm obsessed with everything what is ntw related 🖤 hope ur well

Hi friend! It’s possibly just you (or one other person, in case of separate anons) but that is enough! I was absolutely serious.

Note on the notes! This is not all of it, because my notes for this chapter were often repetitive and very messy, and some older notes were from four years ago when I didn’t bother writing things out properly, so they barely make sense even to me. But! I’ve done my best to sort everything in some kind of linear order, and removed most of the repetition. And, well, you asked for it... sorry! 🖤

Ian shows up in the morning, Mickey digs out the magazine Iggy stole from Amelia’s dentist’s office the other day and confronts Ian about the big-ass article in Rolling Stone about IAN’S BAND, says he’s listened to some of their songs, takes out a paper where he’s written down some lyrics that sound strangely familiar.

You’re famous!

I’m in a band, people know about us right now, tomorrow they might not. I’m not famous.

You’re kinda famous.

Ian talks about Mickey recognizing him because of Frank. Hints that there might be several songs inspired by Mickey. It’s awkward as fuck, didn’t want you to know.

Were you ever gonna tell me?

Oh yeah, I had a plan. 3 dates, dinner and a movie, day out with Yev, dinner at my place turned vigorous love-making. Second prong; cohabitation, engagement, marriage, then on our wedding night I tell you about crushing on Justin Timberlake when I was 12,

then I tell you I’m semi-famous, if it still applies.

Mickey thinks his face might be on fire.

What the?

I’m fucking with you, Mick. Figured you already knew.

This again?

You angry?

No, I’m not fucking angry. Just-

Freaked out.

Kinda, yeah.

You shouldn’t be. Please.

It’s weird that I didn’t know, I feel like a schmuck. (And I’m pretty sure by your count we’ve already been on those first two dates.)

I’m sorry. I thought you knew and by some fucking miracle didn’t treat me different. I’d been gearing up to maybe have to have this conversation on our date, ‘cause it’s shit sometimes, you know? I don’t do interviews and I never talk about myself when I gotta do them, but there’s still a limelight and a lot of bullshit that complicates

I’ve been crushing on you since we met basically, and I thought I’d just… let it run its course, keep my mouth shut about it and deal until it went away and we could remain friends without me fucking it up.

Didn’t work, by the way.

Good.

Mickey is talking about it with Etch, who suggests that Ian’s been writing at the diner for a reason.

Etch looks up some lyrics and Mickey caps locks them to Ian

You might have inspired a few lately…

Fuck off. How many?

Since we met? Pretty much all of them.

Maybe one or two made it on to the album, but I wrote those before we really got to know each other so they’re just like… about moments, and how I would feel around you.

Didn’t think of it as creepy but it kinda sounds that way now.

No it’s fine

I won’t do it again.

Said it’s fine. Kinda like it.

Yeah?

You gonna tell me which ones are about me, or is that a secret too?

What are you doing tonight?

Thought you said you were going on tour?

We are, it starts tonight. It’s a small fan club gig here in Chicago.

You have a fan club?

Kinda. I’ll put you on the guest list if you want to come.

(Mickey calls Svetlana to make sure Yevgeny can stay with her over the weekend.)

It’s fine if you don’t want to, we’ll do something else when I get back.

Calm your tits Gallagher, course I wanna go. Needed to make sure I’ve got Yev covered.

Oh okay, good. You’re on the list. Doors at 7, gig starts at 8, no support.

You’ve got no chill.

(Ian doesn’t answer for a while)

I like it.

Good, that was torture. Never doing that again.

(Etch teases him about having his nose in his phone, and makes him aware of new guests arriving)

Gotta get back to work

Yeah, me too. See you tonight?

No chill at all.

Ian invites him to the concert and gives Mickey his phone number. Mickey makes sure Yevgeny stays with his mom on saturday, and after work he goes home and gets ready. Showers and cleans himself thoroughly, puts on cologne and a band t-shirt he hasn’t worn in ages, it’s gotten kinda tight on him since he got it. (He puts on a dress shirt first, tucks it into his pants and glares at his reflection).

He’s on the guest list when he gets there, the girl in the box office can’t find him at first but then Anne shows up and points him out, he’s on the VIP list and gets a pass that he’s told he needs to carry so it’s visible. He makes a point of shoving it in the admission guy’s face, but then shoves the ostentatious thing down the pocket of his jeans. Anne shows him in and tells him about the gig, about how the fan club got started. Anne says he can go backstage but he says he’ll pass, thank you. He gets a beer and finds a good spot, there’s a balcony halfway through the venue where he’s got a perfect view of the stage without having to stand in the front.

They text a little, Mickey says he’s there and Ian says he’ll make a sign when they play a song inspired by him.

run-through of the concert, Ian touches the side of his nose when the song is about Mickey. He’s sexy as fuck, and has some ridiculous stripper moves.

He takes off his hoodie at some point, and sweating through his tank he and Anne put on gloves and start hitting the barrels with crowbars.

Anne is the maestro, maybe Ian crowd surfs at some point? Warren Ellis that violin, man. He has little routines with Anne, and some with Jon too. One song, Anne gets one of his guitars and he does noisy stuff with his violin and plays on the oil barrels with Stran, completely in sync.

They got some good stage banter going, and at some point Ian does a Tom Waits impression, and Anne groans and says he’ll sing the whole thing if they’re not careful. There’s a reason why he’s

For the encore, Ian touches the side of his nose and they start playing a song, Anne saying that this is a first. It looks like Ian is about to sing, but then it looks like he changes his mind and they start playing a song that Mickey sure as fuck hope isn’t about him. The insufferable man on a date right next to Mickey tells the woman he’s with that they were about to play the mysterious title track from their last album that never ended up on the record

“it’s derivative, but cute”

how can it be a title track if it’s not on the album

the guy talks about how he’s got a friend working as an engineer in the studio and he’s sent him an early demo version. It’s not their best song by far, but it’s cool that pretty much no one else has heard it.

Mickey asks the girl if she’s ok with this joker, and she says she’s fine. He offers to get her a cab or something, if she wants to get out of there.

She says she’s not interested

Lady, if I wanted to get with either of you, it wouldn’t be you. Just sayin, I ain’t picky, but that guy would’ve gotten the boot ten minutes into the date if he were here with me, no offense.

WHAT IF.

The concert is over, and crowd starts to let up. Then a fight breaks out at the front and Mickey makes his way towards it. It’s over before he gets there, and sees a guy in his 40s with a bleeding nose, and Lip shaking out his fist, a security guard between them.

Mickey talks to the guard and defuses the situation, putting the bleeding man in the position of a sad overzealous fan. It somehow warms Lip to him, absurdly, and he finds himself apologized to, Lip shaking his hand and wincing when Mickey grips his bruised knuckles a little too hard. Lip vaguely explains that that was an old ex of Ian’s, a real piece of work, and then offers Mickey to come backstage with them to see Ian. Mickey declines.

It’s Lip, Carl and Debbie (Liam is too young, and Fiona too pregnant).

“I was drunk, and wrong, and when I’m wrong I say I’m wrong. (IT’S FROM DIRTY DANCING YOU LITERALLY FORGET EVERY TIME AND HAVE TO GOOGLE IT WHENEVER READING THIS NOTE should I really be quoting Baby’s dad in this fic? Probably. If anyone can, it’s Lip.) And Ian tells me you’ve been there for him a lot lately

I wouldn’t say that

But he did, he doesn’t tell me a lot these days, but he told me that.

Mickey gets another beer at the bar as people mill towards the merch and exit, he sits on a stool with an eye on the backstage passage. He watches the band come out to talk to some of the lingering fans and sign shit. Ian comes out and is immediately surrounded by fans, he locks eyes with Mickey across the room and Mickey raises his beer in a silent cheers. Ian comes up to him after a few minutes, he looks damp and exhilarated and unexpectedly nervous,

How was it?

Not bad, Gallagher.

he asks Mickey over. He has to pack up his shit and do the rounds, but he’ll be done in half an hour, tops. Mickey says he’ll meet him outside.

Ian leaves and Mickey finishes his beer, watching Ian talk to some fans, signing shit and taking pictures. He goes for a piss and then goes out for a smoke.

Ian comes out after twenty minutes, carrying two guitar cases and a large wheelie-bag. Mickey takes one of the guitars off his hands and they walk together.

(maybe Ian has a banjo and he gives it to Mickey to carry and Mickey is all really? I wanna kick your ass so bad right now, country boy, but then carries it anyway.) (banjos are cool)

Walk from the club. Mickey mentions talking to Lip. They talk about Ian’s Tom Waits impression. You’re not musically illiterate at all! Talk about Mickey’s Radiohead tee that he stole from a hookup when he was sixteen, he’s grown into it now. Talk about Ian’s onstage dancing, used to be a stripper, well, not saying you can’t still do private performances (?? you know what I mean! this is not what they’re saying but you’ll remember it) (Note from 2020: I DID NOT REMEMBER IT.)

Talk about wanting to learn playing the trumpet. Don’t have trumpet playing lips.

”Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to, I believe in you.”

Looks at Mickey and smiles.

”What?”

”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

”Maybe.”

”Huh”

“What?”

“Oh nothing.” “Just re-evaluating everything you’ve ever said to me.”

”Re-evaluate this;” gives Ian the finger.

”That an invitation?”

”Fuck you is what it is,”

“sounds like an invitation.”

Ian tells him a little about his different instruments, Mickey picks up the beat up guitar Gus first gave to Ian and strums it, Ian asks him to play him something but Mickey snorts and says he’s counting on getting laid tonight and him playing would be detrimental to that plan. Ian doesn’t think so, but accepts it when Mickey gives him the guitar.

”I’ve walked some thousand miles,” he starts softly, eyes on his left hand, moving over the strings, ”I have slept many hundred nights, and people’ve said hello and bye through the years since you were mine. But don’t think I’ll stop my mourning, don’t I know it’s overdue. Just because I’ve gotten older, none the wiser I cry for you.”

”Honey, cutie, sweetie-pie,” ”My darling boy, sweet old times, as long as I keep you in mind I will remember what love is like. So, don’t think I’ll stop my mourning, don’t I know it’s overdue.”

”Just because I’ve gotten older, none the wiser.”

”I cry for you.”

I’M THINKING OF WRITING MY OWN SONG BECAUSE I WAS THIS MOMENT TO BE MORE BEFORE SUNSET THAN ANYTHING, ALL SMILES AND DRAMA FREE. SO MAYBE A TEXT THAT IS A LITTLE MORE STRAIGHTFORWARD.

Ian plays the song and when he’s done, Mickey kisses him and they have really enthusiastic sex on the couch. Mickey is about to leave after when Ian invites him to stay,

How about some long-ass foreplay on the couch and then they move into the bedroom.

They start on the couch, they take it to the bedroom, they collapse on the bed after and Mickey is feeling too good to argue when Ian mumbles at him to “stay”.

(Sings the song, says it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a song, it’s one quick thought put under a spotlight. Feeling like he should have known Mickey his whole life already. It’s too much, isn’t it? In the kitchen.

”do you normally take guys home and serenade them?”

”nah, don’t think it’d be very effective with most.”

”But you figured I’d swoon?”

”Figured you’d want the truth.”

”which is?”)

??? Need to find a good mix of excitement and new and easy, balanced with ho shit wtf are we doing this isn’t going to end well i think i fucking love him shut the fuck up. needs to be sexy and a little rough, as well as painfully sincere against better knowledge. kissing will do that. they’re doing stuff the way they usually do stuff, but for some reason it feels completely different.

Important that Mickey kisses him.

They stand up and stand chest to chest, Ian says they don’t have to do anything, Mickey says shut up and get naked

he helps ian take his shirt off and kisses him the second his face comes back into view

They fucks on the couch.

OR ALT FADE CUT END and don’t go explicit. Just saying, it’s an option. A valid option.

They can go at it in one of the sequels? Like the roadtrip can be more explicit? If I want? But also not?

I mean, there is such a thing as a nice middle ground right.

I just don’t think I’m interested in going all out porn after 40+ chapters of whatever.

THEY KISS AND THEN THERE’S A MOTHERFUCKING FADE TO BLACK MY FRIEND, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I HAVE DECIDED. Soz

WHAT IF!!

Iggy comes in, is all: guess what I found at the dentist this morning?

M: again? Did Amelia break another tooth?

I: It’ll grow back, take a look at this

E: Did you steal that from the dentist’s office?

M: Rolling Stone, wtf?

E: your dentist’s got rolling stone?

Mickey reads the headlines out loud as a customer comes in and asks Etch about something they’ve lost the other day, and Etch starts rifling through boxes behind the counter as Mickey moves over to sit down in Ian’s booth, rifling through the magazine.

M: what am I looking for?

I: I marked the page

E: what’s this note?

Mickey starts reading the article, realizing that the blurred picture is of Ian, and the interview is with Ian, and holy shit. Ian is legit famous.

Etch starts reading the list of coffees, eventually turning the page over and pointing out that there’s a phone number.

Iggy comes to the diner in the morning, Etch is rifling through stuff behind the counter and Mickey is doing the rounds with the few guests still there after the morning rush.

Iggy shows him the magazine he found at the dentist’s and Etch is in the background like wtf is this, reading from Ian’s note with the coffee orders, Mickey only half listens, trying to take in the fact that Ian is fucking famous.

Etch says there’s a phone number too and Mickey brushes him off.

Then he’s like, hold the fuck up! And gets the note from the trash and tries the number, and Ian fucking answers. And they have the you’re famous conversation on the phone and voila, Mickey has his number and vice versa.

So Mickey calls Ian in the morning, then there’s text talk during the day.

From Ian

So, you’ve had my number for x days and you only now decided to use it?

That’s cold.

From Mickey

You wrote it on a piece of paper you then balled up and threw on the floor, asshole, it’s a miracle it didn’t end up in the trash. didn’t know I had it until this morning.

You suck at this. (This is a nice revelation that he likes, but Maybe that doesn’t come across in text.

Not a complaint btw, just gleeful observation.

From Ian

Are we still on?

From Mickey

Of course.

Dumbass.

Ian

I probably deserved that.

At some point Mickey starts capslocking and sending lyrics to Ian, who has to explain through text why he’s written songs about Mickey, saying that he’ll point them out tonight.

HERE’S A QUESTION

SHOULD I SKIP THE WHOLE “WRITING SONGS ABOUT MICKEY” BUSINESS??

Isn’t it enough that Ian is famous and kept this fact from Mickey? Isn’t the writing songs business a little creepy? and if he did write songs about Mickey, would he really publish them without Mickey’s consent? No. Maybe I’m deliriously tired and about to fall ill right now, but I actually think I should skip that part. It’s a little sad because it’s been part of this idea for three years, but if I’m uncertain about it now imagine how I’m going to feel about it later?

When I started writing this story, it was supposed to be a quick and silly thing, and now it’s something else. It’s not important or anything, but also it is. To me. And making a decision on the rating was a big deal for me, and I think this is another one of those things. I’ve been holding on to this idea for so long but when I really think about it, is it even romantic? It’s romantic in that kind of teenage dream way, maybe? It’s more romantic to me if they fall in love for reasons other than Ian writing songs. But he’s written NTW, and he still thinks about performing it live, but we skip the whole thing about songs being about Mickey.

So they talk on the phone in the morning, and then there’s a text coming in after a little while asking if Mickey wants to come to the show.

HEYHO IT’S A REVOLUTION AND I FEEL FREE

Mickey and Ian text after the show (after Mickey declines going backstage) Ian asks him to meet him round back in twenty minutes. When Mickey goes out there, he sees Ian talking to a couple of fans by the bus and Mickey hangs back to smoke while he waits. The fans leave and Ian looks around, checks his watch, he has a bunch of guitars with him.

I AM LEANING HEAVILY TOWARDS MICKEY KISSING IAN HERE. He’s like “Stop, hold this” giving Ian back the guitar, so he can grab on to him and kiss him, smiling against Ian lips as the guitar tips over and clatters against the asphalt.

They’re outside Ian’s house, Ian says he has to get up at an unholy hour tomorrow. Invites him in anyway.

They’re in the elevator, then they’re in Ian’s apartment. Ian plays him the song, Before sunset ending.

almost none of that rhymed, just letting you know. kinda embarrassing.

(almost none of that rhymed, just letting you know. kinda embarrassing.

yeah, it’s not a very good song. is why we cut it from the record

oh yeah? thought it was ‘cause of the like, intensely personal subject

that too)

They smile at each other like fools and Mickey feels like he is exactly where he’s supposed to be, and there’s no rush. Fade to black.

Etch finds the paper, says there’s a phone number on it. Mickey dials the number and goes out back as it rings out. When Ian answers, he reads a question from the interview and they talk.

He goes back into the diner and basically blows the whole thing off, it doesn’t make any difference to him and he has to go back to work. Yevgeny does his homework and Iggy leaves, and Ian invites Mickey to the gig via text. Etch invites Yevgeny to stay over at theirs for a movie night.

Does Mickey tell Yev about the gig?

Start with Mickey out back, smoking. The phone rings and he waits for Etch to take it, but it keeps ringing. He bangs the door and yells PHONE and then it stops ringing. He kills the cigarette and goes back inside. Etch is behind the counter talking on the phone and going through the lost and found, looking for whatever the caller has lost. Mickey clears a table. It’s afternoon. Etch hangs up but keeps going through stuff in the box, talking to Mickey, when Iggy comes in.

It’s maybe more like afternoon (?) when Iggy comes in and shows Mickey the magazine. He calls Ian and they have a quick conversation (he probably goes outside to have it, to escape his audience) and they establish that Ian is sorta famous. Then they text back and forth a little, until Ian invites him to the show.

Mickey calls Svet to arrange it so Yev can stay with her, and then accepts. He goes home after work to eat, have a shower and change out of his clothes. He wears the only band tee he owns, mostly because it’s funny and because it’s kinda tight and he doesn’t think he looks too bad in it (and a dress shirt is way too much for a concert not-date, not that he tried on a couple first. Then he does a little bit of cyberstalking only to find very little personal information and a lot of crazy fans. Maybe he watches a couple of music videos, but they’re all really weird cartoons so they give him nothing. They’re cool though, and guess the music’s alright, even though he doesn’t have a connection yet to it so it’s hard to tell if he likes it.

Yevgeny calls, because Mickey switched the days and he wants to know why. Mickey asks if he knows about the Broken Bells, and Yev’s like duh who doesn’t? And freaks out when Mickey tells him about Ian. He doesn’t tell him about the whole date situation though, just that he’s going to the concert. Maybe Yev asks for some merch.

Mickey takes an Uber to the venue, even though it’s not too far from the diner (but on the other side, so at least a 30 minute walk) and it seems like they’ve already started letting people in. He hangs back until the admissions office is clear and then tells the lady that he’s on some kinda guest list. She can’t find him, and he’s about to give up and go home when he sees a familiar figure in the background. He calls her Stay-puft first, but then also remembers that her name is Anne and calls her that too. She remembers him, and finds him on a different (VIP) list, the venue staff woman is embarrassed, but Anne is borderline flirting she’s so nice about the mistake. Mickey gets a pass that he’s supposed to keep around his neck, but he shows it to the guards and then tucks it down his back pocket. Anne shows him inside the venue and asks if he wants to come backstage and say hello, but he kindly declines.

He has a quick peruse of the merch table (he checks the CDs, and then sees a smaller table next to the merch with a guy handing out pins, Mickey talks to him and finds out that it’s “fan club” pins to commemorate the gig and Mickey asks if his VIP pass gets him one, it does, and then the guy asks if Mickey wants to sign up for the newsletter) and then gets a beer, before finding a good spot on the mezzanine floor. He’s got a balcony railing for support and beer holder, and he’s got an excellent view of the stage. The floor is filling up with people packing themselves against the front. He texts Ian saying he’s here and they text a little back and forth. He gets someone to watch his spot and goes to the restroom. There, he finds a kid getting cornered by a middle-aged man. The kid looks vaguely familiar and not older than sixteen. Mickey steps in and casually accuses the guy of creeping on a kid and the guy immediately backs off, the kid says thanks and that he’s eighteen (because it’s an 18+ gig) and Mickey says sure.

Getting back to his spot, There is a douchebag on a date behind him that he wants to move away from, but he doesn’t want to surrender his good spot. He decides to tune him out, he’ll hopefully shut up once the set starts. It’s just a couple of minutes after eight when the lights dim and a song comes on louder than before, and the band start coming out on the stage. Ian is wearing jeans and a hoodie, like he normally does, but he’s clean shaven and his normally smiling face is set in blank determination. Anne is the front person, and she commands the audience with the slightest gesture. It’s obvious that the venue is filled with old fans, they all know exactly what to do exactly when she asks them to do it. Ian’s got like four guitars and a whole lot of other shit around him, and he’s super focused on doing his stuff, but now and then he does little routines with Anne and Jon, and gets a big cheer for his occasional solos.

A few songs in, Ian gets up to stand on one of the oil barrels, and Anne starts banging on it with a crowbar. That’s when Mickey starts to really get into it. It’s cool, and it’s a lot harder than Ian made it out to be, but kind of theatrical at the same time. Ian is brilliant, even though he dances like an uncoordinated stripper.

There is banter between the songs, mainly between Anne and Stran (girl sure bangs those drums!) Anne starts banging one of the oil barrels again and Ian and Jon do a little step dance next to each other across the scene.

At some point Ian takes off his hoodie. He’s wearing a white tank and he’s already sweating through it. He gives his guitar to Anne and puts on gloves. Him and Stran do a little bant-y thing and then they start a new song by both banging the barrels in unison while Anne and Jon start playing (maybe Jon plays something else, like an electric piano or a marimba?). At the crescendo of the song, Ian takes out a baseball bat and goes to town on the barrel, sweat shining on his muscly arms and his wet hair flopping down his forehead.

They go off the stage, but come back when the crowd chants a song, stomping their feet and clapping their hands. Anne says they’ve got one more song for them, and they start playing. She moves away from the microphone and it looks for a second like Ian is going to step up and sing. Douchebag behind Mickey tells his date about an unreleased b-side to the last album. But then Ian steps back and says something to Stran, who nods and moves into a slightly different beat. Without blinking Anne, steps back up to the mic and sings the last song.

Some of the crowd lingers by the stage after the lights have gone back on, but most move towards the bar or the merch table. Mickey hangs back to watch the crew take down the stage, and the two oil barrels being handed over to someone in the audience, along with set lists and left-over picks. Walking down from the mezzanine floor to go look for the restrooms, a fight breaks out on the floor. Mickey immediately recognizes one of them as Lip and the other one as the creep from the bathroom, and intervenes by clearly positioning himself on Lip’s side and reminding the creep that he could get him in trouble, the creep backs off and agrees when Mickey tells the security guards it was an accident (in a way that isn’t obviously helpful, but in the end still makes sure that Lip isn’t hurt or arrested for punching a guy) (because he did, he punched a guy, who is thrown out by the guards after Mickey’s intervention). Lip, Carl, Debbie, and Liam is there, but it’s only Lip who knows who Mickey is. He hangs back to talk to Mickey while his siblings go backstage (and PROBABLY DOESN’T tell him a little bit about the guy being Ian’s ex, making it clear that Lip really doesn’t like him). He also apologizes to Mickey for last time. He asks if Mickey wants to go backstage, but Mickey declines. He’s decided earlier with Ian through text that he’ll wait for him and thinks it’s better to do it somewhere that isn’t backstage where he might get asked questions and have to talk to people who aren’t Ian.

He gets another beer and stands in the bar next to the merch, watching as Ian and the rest of the band come out to sign some stuff and shake hands. Ian still looks slightly damp from sweat, even though he’s obviously changed clothes and run a towel through his hair. Mickey wonders if his skin tastes like salt. He drinks his beer.

Ian comes up to him after a little while, asking well? (or texts him, which probably makes more sense? But I also want Mickey to see Ian post-show)

Not bad Gallagher, not bad at all.

Ian looks pleased and asks if Mickey wants to come over, even though Ian has an early morning. Mickey says yes and Ian asks him to wait until they’re done packing up.

Mickey finishes his beer, goes to the restroom (where he sees douchebag by the urinal) and then he goes outside to wait for Ian. (He talks to douchebag’s date and offers to get her a taxi before the guy comes out.) He smokes a cigarette, and before he knows it, Ian is by his side, carrying a fuck ton of guitars. They decide to walk, for some reason, talking on the way.

HEY

Ian says he’s got a car coming and they walk a little bit to where they’re getting picked up. They talk about trumpet lips and stuff and Mickey kisses him. They get interrupted by the car arriving, and Ian picks up his guitars and says “you coming?”

Fuck yes

They sit in silence in the car, but it’s a good one. Ian says

Lip told me what you did back there.

He didn’t tell you shit.

He did, told me you stepped in and stopped him from getting arrested

He was getting his ass kicked, someone had to help the guy

And Liam told me you got him out of a tough situation in the restroom

That was Liam? Some pedo’s creeping on a kid by the urinal, I’m not gonna stand by doing nothing.

You know that’s not what happened

Yeah, well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

He isn’t a pedo, and Lip would’ve beat the shit outta him if you hadn’t stepped in.

You defending this guy?

No, trying to say thanks.

You’re shit at it.

Thank you, Mickey

Better.

So… friend of yours.

No. (Ian isn’t forthcoming with the info)

Alright, whatever.

And he’s definitely not someone I wanna talk about, tonight.

(Ian is smiling at him, all the promise in the world in his eyes)

Fucking fair enough.

They arrive.

OR Ian joins Mickey outside and they stand around and talk

They talk about Ian’s Tom Waits impression. You’re not musically illiterate at all! Talk about Mickey’s Radiohead tee that he stole from a hookup when he was sixteen, he’s grown into it now. Talk about Ian’s onstage dancing, used to be a stripper, well, not saying you can’t still do private performances (?? you know what I mean! this is not what they’re saying but you’ll remember it)

Talk about wanting to learn playing the trumpet. Don’t have trumpet playing lips.

”Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to, I believe in you.”

Looks at Mickey and smiles.

”What?”

”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

”Maybe.”

”Huh”

“What?”

“Oh nothing.” “Just re-evaluating everything you’ve ever said to me.”

”Re-evaluate this;” gives Ian the finger.

”That an invitation?”

”Fuck you is what it is,”

“sounds like an invitation.”

That’s when a taxi pulls up and Ian walks toward it

Could use some help with these.

They ride in silence

They carry Ian’s instruments from the car, and Ian says something cute

Mickey’s like “Stop, hold this” giving Ian back the guitar, so he can grab on to him and kiss him, smiling against Ian lips as the guitar tips over and clatters on the asphalt.

They’re outside Ian’s house, Ian says he has to get up at an unholy hour tomorrow. Invites him in anyway.

There he asks Ian to play him something that other people don’t get to hear (mostly to be a cheeky monkey, but also because he wants it) and Ian plays him None the wiser.

I’ve walked a thousand miles to end up in your corner booth

Grinning idiot when you bitch, falling fool for your dirty mouth

Sitting on my busy hands when you swagger by and I say -

Hey waiter, pour some coffee in my cup and bring me my toast, before you fuck me up

I’ve been in some thousand fights and it’s clear that so have you, too

Faded threats and cigarettes, sharp glass polished by the sea

Wish you’d put your hands on me and make your feelings clear

Hey waiter

meet me ‘round the back door, tell me I’ve got it wrong and fuck me up some more

‘Cause I’ve fallen a thousand times but never felt this way before, like I should have met you long ago

Walked with you by my side and had your back through thick and thin

Sickness and health, come what may, and I say-

Hey waiter

pop the damn champagne

None the wiser

you fuck me up again

Hey waiter

tell me you’ll be mine

I’ll give you my life

and fuck you up in kind

I wish I was just a plain white shirt

then you could wear me off to work

and I’d be one of the things you keep close to your heart

soft white cotton wrapped around your heart

(Contrasts have faded now

but color still haunt my mind

And words ripped off from their lines

Make bitter tears flood my eyes

Don’t think I’ll stop my mourning

Don’t I know it’s overdue

Just because I’ve gotten older

None the wiser, I cry for you)

Honey, cutie, sweetie-pie

My darling boy, sweet old times

As long as I keep you in mind

I will remember what love is like

So, don’t think I’ll stop my mourning

Don’t I know it’s overdue

Just because I’ve gotten older

None the wiser, I cry for you

’Cause I always say ’I love you’

when I mean ’turn out the light’

And I say ’let’s run away’

when I just mean ’stay the night’

But the words you want to hear

you will never hear from me

I’ll never say ’happy anniversary’

Never stay to say ’happy anniversary’

Bom-chaka bom-chak 23 verses

And he climbed up a mountain

And he looked around

Some kind of forest

With all these dinosaurs

And he stripped his woman

He stripped her bare

But there was a pterodactyl

There!

#Anonymous

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