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zooone · 8 months

Text

as above, so below

╰┈➤ a grumpy grim reaper falls in love with an optimistic angel.

one sided hatred to lovers; grim reaper!wilbur x angel!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - here it is, my magnum opus. even tho its not done! i had to split this fic in half, so unfortunately there will have to be a part two :( very sorry. but on a lighter note, HUGE HUGEEE thank you to @harbingerofheartbreak. as per usual, she helped me visualized the entire thing and even made some of the plots and ideas that i used. in fact, the original fic was supposed to be a grim reaper x human, but it was florence who thought of the grim reaper x angel prompt and i could not thank her enough. furthermore, she helped keep this fic going and constantly pushed me beyond my limits to do so. the fic was started july 21st and it was supposed to be shelved after a couple weeks, but she made me keep going. she is the best forever and ever go read ynaf. additionally, another big thanks to @starsyoubreaklikesugardust for being another little beta reader for this fic. she always has the greatest ideas known to man and i wanted to run everything by her bcuz it was like having van gogh rate my painting. i had to share this with her earlier than i thought cuz she was threatening me but we dont have to talk about that smile. both of these people helped me so much, and i will forever be in debt to them.

all in all, please please enjoy and give this your love pretty please <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - talk of death, religious aspects, and swearing

she had a lot of questions about wilbur.

not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "on a scale of one to ten, how much does being a murderer really affect your mood?"

all of these questions would go unanswered. including "what's your favorite band?" no matter what, she just could not crack the code of wilbur soot.

to say he was intricate would be an understatement, and her ongoing curiosity would surely be the death of her.

unless he had something to do about it.

he stomped away from her on the rooftop as she followed after him.

"i told you to leave me alone," wilbur grunted, trying to speed walk past her with his long scythe trailing behind him. "is that so difficult to understand?"

"i just- i just wanna talk-" she panted, trying to catch up to him. her white dress flowed beneath her, but wilbur tried not to think about it too much.

"no." he made a sharp turn to fully face her, making her nearly bump into him.

her frown was illuminated by her golden halo, making her hair look almost cloud-like. her eyes glimmered like the entire sun was like a clown nose on her face, despite them arguing in the cold of night.

she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. her halo also lit his face up, and she saw the permanent frown and scrunched up eyebrows under his dark hood.

"why not, wilbur?"

he looked at her like she asked if the moon was real.

"you ruined my job. again." he punctuated his sentence with her name, saying it like he was curling at the nasty taste of it.

he always hated her. there was no mistaking it. he hated the way she giggled and danced around just because she could. he hated the way she spoke, always sounding so bright and happy and fucking naive. he hated her big white wings and her shiny halo.

"there you go talking about your job! like its all that matters to you," she yelled over the continuous honking cars beneath them. "do you even care about anything else in life?"

they weren't even supposed to interact, her being an angel and him being the prince of death. but he was always out doing his grim reaper duties, and she couldn't help but stop him.

he just wanted to follow orders from mumza- the queen of death. every single day that he existed, he had to take the lives of those who were ready. it ate him alive, but it was his only purpose.

"i can't care about everything else in life if i have to care about everything else in death," he grumbled under his breath, making her go silent. he liked her silence, loved it even, because that meant she couldn't criticize him for everything he did.

he would tell her about how angry the job made him. that if he could just switch spots with his brother, the stork, he would be the happiest being in hell. that he hated being the grim reaper almost as much as she hated him.

but if there was anything he really hated, it was opening up to people. and vice versa.

the last time he remotely opened up to someone, it was his mother, and he barely remembered the conversation. it was all the way back when he was welcome to smile. all he could recall was it being something about love, whatever it meant.

"will you please leave me alone now?" he sighed, rubbing his hand in his eye. he watched her eyes go from their usual large state to becoming droopy. she silently nodded her head.

"sorry. goodbye, mr. grim reaper," and the title tore him to shreds. it angered him, over everything else, that all he would be to her was an evil being.

yet, he watched as she jumped from the rooftop, fluttering her wings until she flew away. as she looked back over at him, he couldn't place the odd feeling left in his stomach. if it was guilt or hatred, he would never know.

he would continue to travel, picking up the souls on his way. she always thought he was lucky for being able to travel wherever he wanted. she always wanted to befriend the humans- in fact, she wanted to befriend everyone, but she found it impossible when she was constantly being held back.

he arrived back to hell's palace, a bag in one hand, and his scythe in the other. his head drooped down, avoiding any unnecessary eye contact with the other demons.

that hope would be short lived, however, as a demon took his shoulder as he walked.

"wilbur!" he spoke cheerfully, as if he wasn't living among lava pools and ash.

"quackity," wilbur responded in the same, monotone voice. it made the demon groan.

"quackity-" he mocked, changing his shape to an exact replica of wilbur's. mimic demons, they were called, and they were able to take form of any other being, even adorning their voice. it came in handy for most demon's entertainment, but it certainly didn't faze wilbur.

he stared into the mimic of his face, hating what stared back at him.

"oh come on. that usually works on people," quackity frowned as he twisted himself back to his natural state. he began poking wilbur with his blackened hands. "just give me a little giggle, wilbur."

"no." he'd said the word so much that it rolled perfectly off his tongue. "and for fucks sake, please put on a shirt."

quackity laughed loudly. "we're in hell, wilbur! its hot as- well, hell down here. don't tell me you haven't thought about walking around shirtless either." he paused, putting his hands on wilbur's dark outfit, "or.. hoodless.."

wilbur glared with an unamused look on his face, shrugging quackity's touch off of him and trying to continue walking along his path. walking away from conversations never worked to end them, yet he still tried it.

it would be the second example today that his tactic never worked, because quackity continued to walk along with him into the palace.

"what's the catch today?" he said it like it was a cheer. "did you get the big numbers? beat your high score yet?"

he would say he could feel his blood boil, but the flames in hell already did that.

"no. i don't keep track," he explained simply, pouring his bag's content into the soul sorter. it went to the fates to decide whether the soul was good or bad. simply enough, the good souls would be transported to heaven and the bad ones would stay. sometimes he imagined them debating over a soul's purity. the sound of screams every time he opened the bag would never become easier to stomach.

"bummer," quackity hummed. "why don't you try to make the job a little fun?"

"because i don't want to, okay?" he raised his voice. this time, quackity caught the memo and stayed quiet, except for a "shit, okay." under his breath.

wilbur walked along the palace's stairs, leaving quackity alone in the lobby without another word. this time, walking away from the situation made it stop. the third time really was the charm.

he set his hood down to his shoulders with a sigh, being able to fully see the gold and red palace for what it was. all of the vibrant and bright colors that quite literally clashed with the flames. it was scary and huge, but it was home to him. it was all he'd really known.

he went up to his room, laying on his bed with a groan. sometimes he wished his bed was quite literally made out of feathers, because his back always ached. tommy always said it was because of his "fucking posture", but wilbur knew he had no room to talk. just the thought of him jumping into a big pile of fluffy feathers made his bones ease a little more.

he would spend the night rolling around in his not-feather bed, having issues with his sleep. it was such a frequent problem for him that it was barely even a problem. just how he existed.

and, meanwhile, she would spend her "night" (in quotations. it never got dark in heaven.) staring up at the sun, wondering what sort of buttons she could've possibly pushed with wilbur to make him hate her. it was a recurring thought, but it kept her up too frequently.

the worst part about waking up was simply that. waking up. wilbur would roll out of bed, fluff up his hair a little bit, put on the same clothes, and be going. he went through the same routine every day and he hated it. but at the same time, if anyone disrupted his routine, he'd be angered.

"wilbur!"

and his routine was ruined.

"morning, tommy," he muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. he couldn't be bothered to be angry this early, and definitely not to tommy. "aren't you supposed to be in heaven right now?"

"i'm on break," tommy said in a matter-of-fact tone. he stretched his arms and his wings with a groan, leaving some stray yellowed feathers behind. "delivering babies to peoples' doors is quite the workout."

wilbur barely registered his words, staring idly past tommy. his eyes wandered more on a decoration on a table behind him. he didn't even notice that tommy had continued speaking until he put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"yeah. both mum and dad really like me!" tommy spoke, ruffling his hands through his hair until he realized his goggles were in the way. the mention of phil darkened his mood.

"mum told you to stop calling him 'dad'," wilbur spoke monotone and simple, as usual.

and as usual, tommy groaned at wilbur's monotone voice and simple words, slouching down. "she also told you to stop being so fucking gloomy."

wilbur felt the need to do a lot of things; one- hit tommy with his scythe, two- tell tommy what a privileged asshole he sounded like, and three- do both at the same time. but wilbur had an okay-ish perception of tommy, growing up alongside the boy took a lot. but as annoying as the boy was, he was wilbur's company. even if he would rather swallow his scythe than to admit it aloud.

instead of acting on his mental list of intrusive thoughts, wilbur only sighed. he didn't bother to pick the conversation back up, his eyes wandering to the decoration again. had they always had that there? it looks off-centered.

"well," tommy noticed wilbur's spacing and patted his shoulder as he walked towards the stairs. "good luck today."

wilbur stared blankly through the fringe of sweaty hair on his forehead. inside, he was trying to form whatever a smile was. "thank you, tommy."

he watched as tommy jumped down the stairway, yellow tufts of hair flying with him. he heard a shout from down below, "and don't forget to fix your posture!"

wilbur scoffed in response, sounding more uninterested than he intended to, but ultimately pulling his shoulders back. a new day! a new window of opportunity! is what wilbur would think, if he wasn't wilbur.

he grabbed the railing of the stairway, his pale thin hand contrasting with the gold. he stared at his feet the entire time stepping down. he'd already forgotten about "fixing his posture".

he made his way down the lobby, not getting a chance to speak to his mother due to the abundance of demons lined up, trying to tell her that she was making a mistake. it was typical, but it still left bags under her eyes. wilbur only gave her a timid wave as a greeting before exiting through the palace's doors.

he dragged his tacky shoes through the red dirt beneath him, watching as tiny rocks rolled along his feet before stopping. he almost ran head first into the elevator due to how long he kept his gaze down, but luckily he saved himself from the mental embarrassment.

he stepped inside, proving his identity to the machine far more times than he needed to. mimic demons would always try to steal his finger print to use the elevator and get themselves back onto earth, but it was never successful. he had a keycard, just in case the identity proving didn't work. tommy had the same.

as the doors parted and he made a careful step out, he did his daily greeting to the guard (his daily greeting being a casual glare and a furrow of his eyebrows) and used his scythe to poke himself out.

from the surface, it would simply look like a boulder being turned over. but as wilbur stepped onto the grass, he took a moment to breathe. the air on earth was far better than the smoke in hell. he would spend a great deal of time taking a couple deep breaths, appreciating the silence, oh the lovely sound of absolutely nothing-

"wilbur! there you are!"

he almost screamed. instead, he only turned to the source of the way-too-cheerful voice, saying her name in utter disbelief. "what are you doing here?"

he didn't speak as if he were asking a question. he wasn't actually interested in why she was here in the grass with her elegant white dress and her annoyingly wide smile, using her wings to shield herself from the sun, even if they were translucent.

"i was waiting for you!" she squeaked, getting up from her spot in the grass and practically skipping up towards him. she had what looked to be a gardener's nightmare in her hands. "this is for you!"

before he could say another word, she pushed his hood off of his head. she had to use her wings to reach the top of his hair, but she was still able to run her hand through his brown waves. and as she giggled, she placed her makeshift flower crown on his head.

she pushed herself away- still hovering on her wings, and took a long, meaningful look at him. "you look great!"

"i feel disgusting," he said with anger, taking the weeds out of his hair and stuffing them sloppily into his bag. "why did you do that."

she looked at him with a frown, but still tried to make herself sound happy. her halo flickered softly. "it.. it was supposed to be a gift for you."

"yeah? well i hated it," he squinted his gaze down at her, and she could feel herself shrinking the more and more he looked.

she stayed quiet, the halo above her head still flicked on and off. she looked at him with nothing but a frown, lowering herself so that her feet hit the ground.

what she failed to notice was that he unfurrowed his brows ever so slightly upon seeing her upset.

"let me just get going, okay?" he spoke, trying to make his voice a little bit softer but still keeping the agonizing punch in there.

she spoke quieter now. "i have one more thing for you."

wilbur flinched, fully expecting a glitter bomb to come out of her pocket. but to his surprise, it wasn't.

she pulled out a pack of gummy worms, handing it to him with a pitiful smile on her face. he took it, examining it slowly.

"why is it open?" he took another look at it and realized it was almost half empty.

"umm.. i got a little hungry waiting for you," she mumbled, playing with the hem of her dress. "you were taking a little bit long."

"and speaking of which, i've been talking to you for a little bit too long," he retorted, crumpling up the bag of gummy worms in his palm. the sides of the bagging were practically fighting with the cage he made out of his fingers.

he began to walk in the opposite direction, debating in his mind exactly how long it would take to make his way out of the field and to the nearest trash can. she quickly followed behind him, almost tripping on herself in the process.

"hey- i didn't expect a hello from you, but a thank you would at least be nice!" she yelled as he speed-walked away with his grumpy walk and stone shoulders. "i'm talking to you!"

"and i'm not," he grumbled, fiddling to put his hood back onto his head as a way of closing himself off.

"just-" she flapped her wings, trying to be alongside him. "just have some gummy worms, please?"

he glared, slightly squinting from the piercing light of her halo. "maybe later."

"right now."

as much as he didn't want to, he stopped dead in his tracks. his stare was hurtful and his hand clenched onto his scythe. that was the most demanding he'd ever heard of her.

there was a voice in his head telling him to leave, to just let her have the last word and be gone. but he felt like he couldn't move.

"excuse me?" he only said, scrunching his eyebrows up.

"i want you to have them right now," she enunciated her words, crossing her arms and trying to copy his expression. she was fighting her usual bright smile under her pursed lips. "in front of me."

he blinked, almost starstruck. "why?"

she seemed nearly surprised at his one word question, her stern voice softening slightly. "you look like you haven't been taking care of yourself," as she spoke through a pout, he could feel his face warming up, like tiny little punching bags beneath his skin. "i wanna make sure you're eating."

he hated the feeling of his cheeks going warm. he slept in hell, obviously he knew what warmth was. but for some reason it felt even weirder when it was behind his skin. he cleared his throat with a cough.

"this? you think this is healthy?" he held up the crumpled, half-empty bag, speaking with his forceful actions.

she went quiet again, only speaking loud enough for him to hear. "i couldn't afford anything else at the gas station."

the feeling of warmth in his cheeks soon boiled over into anger. "you couldn't afford anything else?" he repeated in disbelief, "you are quite literally an angel! you're invisible to the human eye! it is so easy for you to steal."

"but i don't wanna be a bad person!" she copied his raised voice, standing on her tiptoes as almost a challenge. "i leave money in the cash register for the man. you know, he's really struggling. he could use the money. his name is robert, i think-"

"i don't care!" wilbur screamed, cutting her off completely. she flinched at his voice, feeling overwhelmed tears start to prickle from her eyes. she hid behind her wings, afraid that he might do something drastic.

he felt his shoulders shrink at her reaction, but ultimately grumbled and opened the pack of gummy worms. he hesitated, holding out the candy in front of him.

she opened her eyes from her flinch, and saw him sniffing the gummy worm. a smile spread across her face. "you just.. take a bite out of it."

"i know," he muttered. he was already mad enough that he had to eat it, he didn't want to be instructed on how.

"oh.. okay. i mean- i just kinda assumed that you didn't know because i don't think there are gummy worms in hell. they'd get all sticky and stuff. at least, that's what i've heard. are there really no gummy worms in hell?"

he looked at her with no amusement on his face. she looked right back at him, however, wanting an answer to her long winded question that was somehow said in a singular breath.

"no… no there aren't," he spoke slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. "are there gummy worms in heaven?"

why was he making conversation with her? he should be out collecting souls right now, not talking about stupid little gummy worms with this stupid little angel. he mentally slapped himself in the face, cringing with a shake of his head.

"no, there aren't," she batted her eyelashes like she was trying to think for a moment. "but phil sometimes gives me money for gummy worms. i share it with the others!"

he was barely registering her words, his mind still clouded with the mental boxing match he was having with himself. he was being stupid. not even the mention of phil was able to knock him from his thoughts.

"hey," she waved her hand in his face, acting as the referee and stopping his boxing match. he was almost at a knockout. "you've been making that face for a while. do you not like gummy worms?"

wilbur didn't know how to really respond to the question, having never even tried gummy worms before. he looked back at her. she had her full attention on him, waiting for another answer that he would hopefully not blunder.

"it's.. it's fine."

he definitely blundered.

he ignored it, not ready for a round two fight, and put the gummy worm in his mouth.

she leaned forward. "how is it?"

it was about the best damn thing he's ever had.

"it's.. okay, i guess."

"great!" she jumped- fucking jumped. "im sure you have to be on your way for your very important job-"

he completely forgot about his being the grim reaper, straightening up suddenly with widened eyes and tightening his grip on his scythe. he cursed under his breath, running towards the direction of the city.

"hey, i didn't finish!" she called out, catching up to him once more with flaps of her wings.

"i can't talk. you've already made me late enough," his hood almost fell off in the wind with how quickly he was running. "fuck, mum's gonna be pissed."

she would, in fact, not be pissed. she was always far too busy to even greet wilbur or tommy, and they hadn't done any sort of domestic activity in what felt like an eternity. he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, that she was just busy with being the queen of death, but it was extremely lonely.

there wasn't any time for them to really speak. they were both always busy and family meals were long forgotten. in fact, wilbur had never eaten in front of another person before. the most he'd done was eat some boring, rotten food while sitting on his floor with tommy- and even then, he was only picking at it idly with his fork.

he found comfort in eating alone. there was no one there to judge him or to argue. it was just him, his thoughts, and the literal grayed out food they had in hell. but there was something always so reminiscent about having food with another person, even if it was just something like dessert.

"oh," she sighed, moving her wings idly. she watched as he ran away without another look. her arms swung at her sides in an almost confused fashion. "okay. um- hope you like your gummy worms! bye wilbur!"

at least she didn't call him mr. grim reaper again.

he didn't care, anyway, just trying to get to work on the job he obviously hated. but when he stopped to catch his breath, he couldn't help but stare at the pack of gummy worms in his sweaty palms, the colorful designs contrasting his dull looking hand.

he looked around. it looked like there were no cheerful angels in sight, so he figured himself to be safe. he popped another gummy worm into his mouth, scrunching his nose at the taste of something so impossibly sweet. it was a pleasant change from the tasteless foods in hell, and the addictive sweetness coated his tongue for a while.

he stuffed the rest of the pack into his bag, appreciating how empty it was without the souls inside it- a temporary feeling.

wilbur already felt like he'd wasted enough time, and got to work. bringing people to death's door wasn't exactly the easiest job.

he started with a car crash, wincing at the amount of shattered glass and blood everywhere. he fell sick to his stomach with a nasty feeling bubbling up in his throat. all those years dealing with death and it still never got easier to see the causes.

he held his scythe up slowly, shutting his eyes in a flinch. he thought of a thousand things all at once, trying to focus on one. they have to die. i have to put them out of their misery. they're dying because they have to, not because i chose to.

he took a breath, feeling like needles were going up his nose and into his lungs, and swung the weapon down.

it sunk through the person's body without struggle, opening up a passageway for him. he removed his scythe carefully, as if it would hurt them.

he sat on his knees next to the car. although his body was phantom-like against the gravel, he could still feel the roughness under him.

he held a cold hand to the person's back, trying to ignore how it looked to see the life drain from under their eyelids and filter out onto his palm. as soon as he could no longer feel a nauseating pull on his hand, he lifted it gently. he watched as the soul threaded directly off the person, catching onto his fingertips.

he didn't bother to take a closer look at it. the last thing he wanted was to remind himself that these people were actually human. he only took it in his palms, mushing it until it turned into a small circular shape. he put it in his bag, not caring to look at what else was in it.

wilbur would continue to follow through with that sequence throughout the day, as he usually did. scythe, hand, soul, bag. when he was growing up, mumza told him that he would be used to it in no time. but as "no time" passed, he still felt like throwing up after each day.

he made his way down the elevator, his shoulders stinging with the weight of his bag. the souls were practically weightless, but gathering so many into his bag made it sag down. he held his scythe with two hands, his arms being too sore to function properly on their own.

tommy was waiting for him at the steps of the palace, ignoring everyone lined up at the doors. his elbow was on his knee, and his face was being held up in his palm. he had been playing with a stone, trying to break it with his fingertips.

"wilbur," he automatically sprung up upon seeing his brother. he used to go in for hugs, however stopped shortly after wilbur started discussing how much he hated them. "mum wants to see you. says its important."

wilbur took time to react to his words, feeling like his bones weren't his. he only hummed an, "oh. okay," as he made his way up the steps, his feet barely dragging behind him.

"wait-" tommy called out, making wilbur almost freeze on cue. "i was.. i was wondering if you wanted to hang out by the fountain.. of wishes. the one up there. like- like we used to..?"

wilbur's breath stalled, stopping in his lungs. he'd barely even remembered it, but was holding back a smile at the memory.

that smile became easy to suppress as it slowly disappeared. he remembered all of it.

"mum doesn't want us talking to phil," was all wilbur muttered. he finally took a breath, his chest rising and falling with a sigh. "sorry."

"its not like that anymore!" tommy tried, throwing his hands up in the air in an almost child-like fashion. "they've changed, phil especially! i talked to him the other day, and-"

"mum doesn't want us talking to phil, tommy," he enunciated it slower this time. watching tommy's shoulders shrink, a sinking grayness fell over his face like a cloud was above him.

"yeah. okay," tommy sighed with a shake of his head. he played with the calloused skin on his fingers. "you're right."

wilbur stood there for a great deal of time. as much as it physically pained him, he felt a trapped sensation in his chest.

"tommy?" he spoke softly, barely enough for the both of them to hear. "you're a good kid."

he left before tommy could respond, expecting the boy to make some stupid remark about how soft he was turning. tommy didn't react that way, however. he stood alone on the steps, taking breaths watching as wilbur walked away.

wilbur made his way past the screaming, impatient people. he was always hateful towards loud noises as they made his skin crawl. he thought maybe that was the reason he hated the angel's voice so much.

there he went again thinking of that stupid angel. if he'd given her any more room in his mind, she'd have to pay the rent.

shaking his head from stupid thoughts, he called his mother's name, gaining her attention.

"wilbur," she spoke softly, her voice too tired from all the demons and ghosts she spoke to. her black hair hung over her face messily, but it was covered by a large lacy hat. "how are you?"

wilbur knew she wasn't actually curious about how he was feeling. it was just a filler for the missing years of his childhood.

"i'm doing well," a lie, "tommy said you wanted to talk to me?"

he saw his mother's face light up, as if she'd just remembered something blatantly obvious. wilbur could imagine her thoughts- "oh, thats my son, i forgot."

she fished for something on a table near her large throne. it looked more shiny than any angel's halo. damn it, why was he thinking about her again?

"here," she handed an envelope to him with her large hand. he hesitated in taking it. "the messenger said it was for you. you don't usually get mail, so i figured it was important."

wilbur stared at the wax seal, the intricate pattern almost painful to stare at for too long. "are you sure this is for me? im not-"

"im so sorry, wilbur," her eyebrows disappeared into the shape of her hat as she put a hand to her black gown. "i have to get going talking to these people," she motioned to the line in front of her. "i also have a super busy day. i have to-"

"its fine, mum," he cut her off just as she did to him. he couldn't feel any remorse for his lack of formality. "you're.. doing great."

he spared himself from the long speech his mother always gave about how busy she was. it was always a drag to hear. tommy said it was her way of indirectly apologizing for not giving him family meals- but wilbur always thought that if he was right, she would directly say it.

in all honesty, however, he missed being able to sit next to someone and eat something.

the black lipstick on her face formed into a smile. "thank you, wilbur," she sighed, her body already facing the demon she was talking to last. "and tell me what the letter is!"

"i will," another lie. he was really great at them because she could barely ever hear them.

as he was going to the soul sorter, he turned the letter over in his hand, squinting at the written address. it read, "hell's palace (if it's real! i've never been there but i've heard about it!) for wilbur!" with a bunch of hearts and smiley faces. wilbur felt himself go sick to the stomach, nearly tripping on himself.

it was probably that stupid angel trying to give him a pity letter that he didn't want. he scowled at the thought as he emptied his bag into the soul sorter.

that dumb little angel, who did she think she was? did she genuinely think that wilbur would soften up to her because of a little letter with hearts all over it?

but as wilbur was coming up with more mean adjectives, items had been rejected from the soul sorter, and fell out.

it was her flower crown and gummy worms.

wilbur felt his angered expression slowly fade away like sand in an hourglass. he stared at the objects on the ground by his feet.

he was reminded of her soft smile as she put the flower crown on his head, her gentle touches to his hair like he was delicate. or how she forced him to eat fucking gummy worms because of his health.

he could feel the tiniest sliver of a smile peeking out from the corners of his lips. no, what was he doing? that angel was always so judgemental of him. from the moment they first met, she was always criticizing his job and she was always being rude to him.

but, she still cared about him.

wilbur didn't know how to react to that thought. his stomach felt like it was clawing its way out of him, and that weird, warm feeling came back to his face. he hated it.

he bent over, picking up the flowers and gummy worms. he held them in his hands and under his robe, just in case someone saw him holding them.

he quickly went up the stairs, cutting the corner to his room so that no one saw him. he set the flowers, gummy worms, and letter on his desk, his hands propping him up. he stared, yet again, at the objects until he realized- he hadn't even opened her letter yet.

he took a sharp inhale, his fist pressed so hard against the table that he didn't even register the fact that his hands were shaking. he leaned back, taking the envelope with him.

sure enough, it was from her.

"dear wilbur!

hi! i hope this delivered to the right address. i thought mail would be easier in the afterlife, but it really isn't. i hope you're okay!! i hope you didn't hate the gummy worms too much and that you are taking care of yourself! get plenty of sleep please.

i was writing to ask if you wanted to meet me for ice cream! i asked phil, and he said that ice cream would melt in hell too, so i wanted to have some with you. i can show you all the good flavors and everything.

it would be tomorrow, i've listed the time and address below. i hope to see you there!

ps. you better come with a full eight hours of sleep!"

he read over the letter at least a thousand times, his eyes glazing all over the hearts and smiley faces that she used to punctuate each sentence. he felt like he was going to throw up his ugly, beating heart. he didn't know if he should write back or even show up.

it would be his first time properly eating in front of someone in a while, and the thought made him nervous, almost.

as if to taunt him, tommy burst into the room, the sudden loud noise making wilbur scream. he hid the letter on his desk behind him.

"woah," tommy put his hand up to almost shush wilbur, as if he were some wild tiger. "calm down, man."

"sorry-" wilbur straightened himself up, coughing out of awkwardness. he felt his skin melting off of him, and he wanted something to make the tense air easier. "tommy, can you cover for me tomorrow?"

oh god. was he really that desperate to start a conversation?

tommy's eyebrows disappeared into his golden tufts of hair, a confused look grazing his face. "you want me to what?"

"cover.. for me?" he couldn't even believe the words he was saying. "i have a.. thing tomorrow-" no he didn't. he wasn't gonna go. "and.. i need someone to do my job."

"what thing? its not like you have a.." tommy's words trailed off as he stared at his brother in terror. "do you?"

"do i have a what..?" wilbur spoke with confusion as tommy gawked at him. he stage whispered, as if someone were watching.

"do you have a date?"

wilbur's chest bloomed with an awful sensation, his heartbeat picking up and pounding against his ribs. "what? no, i-" he felt like his mouth was stuffed with tar and feathers. "no, of course not, tommy."

"okay! okay," the boy held his gloved hands up in defense, backing away from a powder keg in the form of his brother. "but, whatever it is, how do i cover for you?"

wilbur dropped his tensed shoulders. "you always talk about how easy my job seems, right?"

"what?" tommy screeched, his gold wings flinching with him. "but- but you're the prince of death and i'm the prince of life! how am i supposed to do that?"

wilbur felt his stomach churn at the comparison. he hated the way people would always say "the prince of death" like it would curse the next seven generations of life. his eyebrows furrowed like caterpillars above his eyes.

"then at least pretend that i'm working," he muttered. "it's gonna be easy. i'm sure mum won't even notice."

tommy's lips shifted as he bit the inside of his cheek. he knew wilbur was right. mumza barely said hi to him too.

"okay," tommy sighed as his shoulders fell in defeat. he pointed a finger at wilbur, "but you owe me big time!"

wilbur nodded in response, shooing tommy away with a flick of his hand. tommy listened (although not shutting the door properly), and left his brother alone in his room. the letter was still hidden behind him.

he sighed, feeling his lungs shrink intensely. he had no clue what to do or how to pull it off.

wilbur went to sleep earlier that night, trying to fulfill her promise to get eight hours of sleep. when he woke up, he could feel his bones almost moving on their own. it felt odd to not have the burden of being the soul taking grim reaper.

he looked at himself in the mirror. he looked nothing short of depressing.

he walked over to his closet, sighing as he was face to face with the same rotten black robes he wore. people always trashed on tommy for owning the same white, red sleeved shirt, but wilbur wasn't any better with his duplicates.

he groaned, his head falling in a near defeat. though, he could see a small glint of yellow. hesitating, he picked it up, taking off his cloak to put it on.

it was a really old sweater that phil got him many years ago. back before everything went down the gutter. he ran his thumb down the frayed material. by some miracle, it still fit him.

he looked at himself in his mirror, scowling when he saw who stared back. he looked nothing like how he usually did, and that slight bit of color changed him. the yellow fabric, even when old, still popped out more than his pale skin did.

still, something felt like it was missing. his glasses, maybe? he set the frames on his scrunched face, pushing it up his nose with the back of his hand. that didn't seem to work.

he looked over at his desk, his bottom lip plumped out as he thought. he gave a long stare to the flower crown, feeling his chest tighten and warm with a disgusting feeling. he picked up the flower crown- more delicately than he'd like to admit, and placed it on his tufts of brown as he stared at his reflection.

his mouth hung open. he looked completely different now. there were so many colors and shapes for him to process. and were the dark spots under his eyes really that prominent?

although, even with the wave of confusion, it felt almost comforting. he tried his best at a smile, but shook his head. too far.

wilbur shuffled through the underworld quickly, trying his best not to be seen- and especially not by quackity.

"tommy," quackity stage whispered, gaining the boy's attention. "what the hell's he doing?"

tommy took his place beside quackity, looking to where he was pointing. he scowled. "dude, i kid you not, he's got a fucking date."

quackity scoffed a laugh before looking at tommy. his face was still scrunched in disapproval, his wings idle behind him. quackity’s expression dropped. “wait- you’re serious? he’s actually got a date?”

“that’s what i’m thinking!” tommy’s voice screeched suddenly. he looked and sounded like a bird. “i’ve never seen him wearing something so.. colorful. and look at his fucking posture!”

they watched in amusement as wilbur jammed his finger on the elevator button, trying to get the doors open as he looked around frantically. he hadn’t even noticed, but his shoulders were in fact more pushed back.

he stared at his reflection in front of him, bringing a hand into his hair to even it out. flowers were still scattered around in his hair and it was as if he were producing a trail of petals behind him. he let out a groan as the doors finally parted, and he stepped in.

“who is it with?” quackity asked, holding his chin. his other hand was dug into his pocket. a small, rectangular figure lining the fabric. “do you know?”

tommy turned to quackity with a serious look on his face, as if he were speaking about a universe killing secret rather than who wilbur was eating ice cream with. “you didn’t hear it from me,” he emphasized his words, “but i keep overhearing this angel talking to phil about wilbur. its weird- especially when you think about how phil and wilbur think about each other.”

tommy grimaced at his own words. he could tell how much it cut the mood. it was practically taboo to say wilbur and phil’s name in the same sentence- let alone even mention phil in the underworld. even with tommy trying to get them to forgive each other, the thought of them ever eating at the same dinner table was unfathomable.

quackity interrupted the tension filled silence by asking the angel’s name. tommy gave it without a second thought, but eventually had to repeat it for quackity to properly hear. they were stood outside the pit of lost souls, a place that the forgotten demons would go. they served no purpose in hell as long as they were somehow remembered by someone on earth. it was always a loud area, having literal burning souls inside.

“huh..” quackity hummed, repeating the angel’s name again. “you think they’ll become a thing?”

“no, definitely not,” tommy huffed, laughing as if quackity was telling a knock-knock joke. “he’s too grumpy to actually function around another being.”

“i say give the guy some slack! he deserves at least a chance," quackity protested. "twenty bucks."

"you're betting on his love life?" tommy asked, but quackity stood still with a smirk on his face with his hand out. "fine. deal."

as they shook on their bet, tommy grumbled, his wings tensing up with him. a plan was forming itself in quackity’s mind, his hand patting the lining of his shorts.

“he’s probably up there making out with her right now.”

wilbur, in fact, was not. he was standing on the distant sidewalk, watching her from afar. she sat on the concrete with her legs crossed, looking like her mind was in another galaxy. wilbur on the other hand, stood with his clammy hands at his sides. his palms never sweat as badly as this, and it was making him unsettled. he tried his best to wipe his hands off on his sleeve, but it only made them damp and warm. he sucked in a breath, ignoring it and walking up towards her.

when he caught her eye, her never-ending smile only widened. she stood up to properly face him, looking at him from the top of his flower-ridden hair down to his shoes. “wilbur?”

“hi.. hi-” his voice cracked, and he tried to cover it up with a fake cough. now his throat wasn’t working. “um, i didn’t know.. i wasn’t sure if.. i-”

“you look really nice!” she interrupted, saving him the embarrassment. he let out a mix of a smile and a relieved sigh, muttering his thanks. “and it looks like you actually slept.”

“i did,” he mumbled, adjusting the collar of his bunchy sweater. suddenly, he could feel every texture touching his body. “eight hours.. just like you asked..”

“it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she giggled, and the noise stabbed wilbur a thousand times in the stomach.

“actually, it was,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rocking back and forth on his heels with nervousness. “my bed is a literal stone. i wish it were made out of feathers.”

“maybe your dream will come true some time! come on, let’s make a wish,” she tilted her head, closing her eyes and putting her palms together. “i wish wilbur’s bed was made out of feathers!”

“..is that gonna work?” he tilted his head in her direction.

“hm.. i don’t know. but i always like to try it,” she hummed with satisfaction, putting her hands back at her sides. “can i tell you a secret? i’ve always wanted to visit the fountain of wishes.”

the name rung a bell all the way in the back of wilbur’s mind. he remembered his father telling him stories every night about the fountain of wishes. he scowled at the thought of hin. phil would tell wilbur that his only wish was to meet a beautiful woman, but look where that got him.

“what would you wish for?” he asked, trying to shift the gears of his mind.

“i don’t know,” she said, contently, leaning forward to grab his hand. “maybe i’ll think of something later.”

wilbur flinched, something she didn’t see because she was dragging him into the store. he wondered if she could feel how damp and warm his palms were, but it looked like she didn’t mind. for some reason, their hands seemed to magically fit together like puzzle pieces.

his mind was churning again, thinking about the unknown feeling running through him. he felt suddenly aware of everything around him, and it was awful. yet, she kept giggling and smiling like it was just another day. he envied her power of optimism, even if it was the same thing he disliked about her.

uncomfortably, his mind felt as if he was put in a room of a thousand people, contributing and understanding each one of their conversations. as overwhelming as it was, it was how his brain regularly worked. how he somehow managed to get even an ounce of sleep every night, he'll never know.

his thoughts were unraveling before he could roll them back up, feeling tired of aimlessly following the long film of this and that and-

"do you have a favorite flavor?"

it all snapped away.

"uh- um, well, um-"

how was she able to do that?

"oh, right," she giggled. somehow, in the thousand person room that took place in his mind, her small laugh was the only thing bouncing off his skull. "you've never had ice cream before."

unable to process the sudden quiet of his mind, he simply shook his head. "n-no, i haven't."

"try this!" she held out a scoop of her favorite flavor and wilbur stared at it like it was a cure to the common cold.

shakily, he took it. even if it only existed as a transparent-phantom thing, he was surprised that it didn't slip out of his sweaty hands.

"do.. do i bite-"

"just give it a small lick. i know it'll be cold, but it'll taste good," her words felt like a small promise to him, the most comforting thing he'd heard in a while. yet, it was like talking about the weather to her.

god, what was the feeling? he couldn't exactly pinpoint it at all.

he followed her directions, scrunching his brows in a slight concern as he stuck his tongue out. she was right, it was cold. terribly cold. he thought his tongue would get stuck to it like in the old christmas movies tommy forced him to watch.

and yet, it tasted terribly good. it was such an unfamiliar feeling on his tongue, but it somehow had a certain kick that he enjoyed.

he smacked his lips a couple times, and nodded slightly, mumbling his words. "y-yeah, i like that one."

"great!" she spoke, going over to grab the ice cream scooper. the real thing stood still on the table, but the translucent version was in her hands as she scooped up some of the flavor. as long as she put it back in the right place, nothing would be messed up too badly.

as she finished up scooping her cone, she sighed dramatically. "oh gods, i forgot to get cash."

"you don't need to give him cash, angel, he won't even notice."

his tongue went numb- not from the ice cream, but from the small nickname he'd given her.

it was a small gesture, and he could probably play it off, but it stirred his intestines until he felt like throwing them up. he'd never willingly give someone a nickname. ever.

and the worst part? she noticed.

"did you call me angel?" she stopped her fit of panic over invisible cash to look at him, the corner of her mouth lifting in an asymmetrical smile.

"well- yeah, because you're.. you're an angel," wilbur stumbled, unable to pull something out of thin air. he's lied many times. to his mom, to tommy, to quackity. but for some reason lying to her didn't feel right on his tongue. "a-and you.. have a halo.. and stuff.."

she noticed how he fiddled with his fingers, and decided to spare him of the embarrassment by switching the topic to her day. she seemed passionate with talking about every small thing she'd done, and wilbur admired her attitude.

wilbur prided himself in his writing. his pen and paper were like a magical escape from his burdens. he had a specific way with words that would always get him praised by his parents when he was younger. but despite that, he was completely lost on a word to describe his feelings.

she dragged him back outside without a care in the world, looking around like she owned the place. she pointed to a bench, talking about how it was her favorite bench (to which wilbur began to wonder how one could have a favorite bench), and began guiding them towards it.

in the midst of her excitement, however, she made a wrong step on the curb and yelped. wilbur noticed this quickly, bringing a quick hand to her waist to catch her.

"woah, are you alright-?" he brought her back up carefully, checking to make sure that her and her ice cream were still intact. he checked both off in his mind.

"yeah- yeah i'm fine-" she muttered, and it was the first time he'd ever seen a glint of gloominess on her face. "sorry- that was embarrassing-"

"no need to be embarrassed," wilbur's tone was calm. not a monotone calm, but an assuring calm. one that was stranger to her too.

his hand remained still on her waist, his fingers trembling in such small beats. “wilbur?” her gaze slowly met his, and she could see a small droplet of worry beneath the pools of his irises. “can i tell you something?”

he nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing in such a concerned manner that it almost cut his forehead in half. with his hand still on her waist, he guided her carefully to the bench.

she looked at the pavement, her words coming out in a string of small mumbles that made him feel like they were the only two beings ever. just him, an angel, and a bench. “i don’t.. i don’t usually tell people this,” she fiddled with the hem of her dress, her wings draping over the back of the bench. “but.. the- the way i-i d..”

wilbur stared at the angel- the carefree, optimistic, happy angel; while she broke down bit by bit. he felt like he was almost breaking the law, that he wasn’t allowed to see such a sight. but most importantly, he felt like he needed to help.

he was always gentle, there was no denying it. he spent a lot of time as a child examining bugs (which he called “friends”) and making sure they were okay. and the urge to care for anything in need grew with him, even as everything else changed.

he noticed that his hand was still on her hip, and he drew her closer to his body. the small gesture made her startled, but she quickly grew accustomed to his touch. she felt safe, and wilbur knew that.

she took a deep breath, and spoke. “we were playing a game of hide-and-seek,” she whispered, “i-i was always clumsy, everyone made fun of me.. nobody..”

her words trailed off again, and wilbur felt his heart aching. “nobody..?”

“nobody really.. liked.. me,” she huffed, her face turning away from him. he could tell that she didn’t speak about this much. “everyone hated me, actually. like you do..”

his heart was wrapped in thorns.

it was the clearest thing she’d said. like she had so much time to think about it and deduct it. he wanted to say something, wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and scream at her. but he didn’t. he couldn’t- he felt paralyzed.

“i guess i tripped and fell or something, a-and i-” a bile swelled her throat. “it hurt. a lot. i was- i was screaming and crying for help b-but everyone ignored me. except for..”

her head lifted as she looked at him. it was the type of look in which he could study each pigment on her face, and he’d be able to use the rosiness of her cheeks to paint a breathtaking portrait.

“except for you.”

she smiled. and even through tears, her expression lit up the earth.

“me?” he whispered softly.

immediately, she nodded. she was so close to his face that she could see a tiny cut to the right of his adam’s apple. she suppressed a giggle as she thought about him struggling to shave, making all sorts of faces into his mirror.

“i was so scared and alone.. and then you came along with your big scythe and your scary hood. and you plunged your scythe into me chest- gods, i was so scared,” she giggled briefly at the thought, but her expression was genuine. “but you gave me peace.”

she leaned closer, wanting to wrap her arms around him and die a second time like that. but she knew he’d hate it.

“it was all i wanted in that moment.”

his eyes were droopy, staring from her left eye, to her right, and down at her parted lips. she was nothing short of beautiful. looking at her for that long felt like a mere privilege, forcing him to be speechless.. he squeezed her hip tighter just to hold her.

“i.. i wanted to thank you..” she whispered, so quiet that her vocal chords barely buzzed.

in his peripheral vision, he noticed how her eyelids fluttered softly. his sight blurred as she leaned in closer, and-

“but you always hated me.”

she leaned back in the seat, and wilbur’s disappointment split him in two. she was right there- right fucking there, but she was so out of reach. the only barrier? his own loathing. the irony of hating his hatred felt like a stab wound to his thorn-crowned heart.

and the worst part; she was unphased.

wilbur gulped as a stack of words piled themselves in his throat. that nasty, overwhelming feeling running through him again. “angel, i-”

“so, what’s your favorite color?” she asked in a light tone, licking at her ice cream.

a wave of dismay washed over his face. he couldn’t think. “t-teal?”

“really? i wouldn’t have guessed that,” she swung her legs beneath the bench, clearly unbothered by wilbur’s confusion. “you don’t really dress like a teal-lover. do you think the moon is real?"

what?

"no, bad question. hmm. what’s your favorite band?”

his heart fell into the pit of his stomach, thorns poking at his sides creating a terrible sting on his abdomen. he opened his mouth to speak- maybe cry and release his feelings; but nothing came up. not even an answer to her stupid question. it was nauseating.

she began talking about the sort of music she liked, but none of it struck his brain. he felt sick. he wanted to scream and sob and punch something. but he sat still like he was posing for a renaissance painting.

“hey, that reminds me,” she stood up abruptly, pointing her finger upwards, despite going unnoticed by wilbur. “i gotta get cash for the ice cream man! i’ll be right back.”

he didn’t even realize she spoke, even when she was repeating his name and trying to get his attention.

why was he disappointed at the lost opportunity? why did he want to curl up in a ball and tug his hair out? what was that stupid feeling that was haunting him all afternoon? it was tearing him apart limb by limb. what was the word, what was-

oh.

it was love. he loved her. it was as simple as a four letter word.

the last time he told someone he loved them, he was begging his father not to leave. as he watched the man- the god- his father walk away, he realized that the word meant nothing. it only brought him pain; and if he didn't love, he didn't have to feel that agony.

his stomach turned, breathing becoming alarmingly shallow. too many memories flushed his mind, and his throat tightened.

"hello? wilbur?"

"don't come back." he stood up suddenly, ice cream falling to the ground next to him.

"what?" she flinched, staring up at him with terror on her face that he didn't even read. he was so blinded by his anger. the light of her halo flickered.

"i said, don't come back." it was almost a subconscious thing, how he lifted his hand into his hair and threw the flower crown onto the sidewalk. right next to his ice cream.

his throat burned harshly. all of his muscles tensed up in such a way that definitely wasn't healthy. he could barely even hear his own words through the pounding in his ears, and he most importantly couldn't hear her heart ripping in two.

"wilbur-"

"stop. stop this. stop following me everywhere, stop- stop acting like you care-" his hands balled up into fists at his sides, "stop everything! i never want to see you again!"

and that was all that was needed for her to turn around and fly off, and that was all that he needed for him to realize what a complete moron he was.

his walk home was nothing short of shameful. and this time he walked through hell with messy flower petals in his hair and a stupid yellow sweater and dumb tears in his eyes.

he didn't realize that quackity, a man who was about to lose twenty dollars, was watching him from afar. he cursed under his breath, biting his bottom lip until his hand brushed against his pocket.

tommy's keycard.

he looked at himself in the reflection of a lava pool, making all sorts of scrunchy and over dramatic faces. he experimented with the way the hood fell over his hair and how it made his furrowed eyebrows look.

he made his way to the elevator, admiring how the scythe looked when he tossed it around in his hands. and when it asked for a confirmation of identity, he pulled out the keycard, swiping it before anyone could see.

he'd continue to try to do tricks with the scythe until he got to the top, waving a hand to the guard until he realized he had to stay in character. his lips suddenly pursed and his eyes became hooded.

to his delight, an angel was there waiting for him.

"wilbur-" she stood up suddenly, her hands shaking at her sides. the light in her tear filled eyes was nearly gone, the glow of her halo barely there. "i wanted to a-apologize-"

"come with me," he spoke, as monotone as he could. his hand reached out towards her, and she hesitantly took it.

with uncertainty written all over her face, she spoke nervously. "where.. where are we going-?"

"i want to make up for what.. happened.. last night.." he muttered, dragging her underground.

she held her flickering halo carefully as they zoomed to the elevator, watching him jam the buttons with his finger. she'd never seen someone so eager.

as soon as the doors parted, he forced her inside with such an anticipation she couldn't pinpoint. it made her feel uneasy, how weird he had been acting.

"wilbur?" her voice came out as more of a squeak, taking his other hand in hers. she looked right at him with swelled eyelids. "this.. this isn't a trick, is it?"

his eyes widened, eyebrows unknotting a crease on his forehead. "what?" he practically laughed, "why- why would it be a trick?"

"i don't know.. you just seem.." her voice wavered, eye contact faltering. "nevermind, it's stupid."

"look at me, love," the nickname was.. new. "i don't want to hurt you. i'm gonna make everything up, okay?"

she hummed an agreement, eyes fluttering to make contact with his. his face was soft, just like the other night. but something seemed missing.

"i wanna show you everything about my home," the excitement in his voice was almost raw. "i live in a palace, did you know that?"

"i didn't," she smiled, a forced one. "are you gonna show me around?"

at that, the elevator's doors opened, and she was hit with a sudden wave of heat that nearly made her fall over.

and he almost didn't catch her.

tears started to swell up her eyes as she clung onto his arm, nails digging into broken fabric. soft yelps came out of her mouth.

"love, are you alright?" he spoke worriedly, and the amount of emotion in his voice made her even more lightheaded.

"i-i am-" she whispered, getting back onto her feet. "its just- y'know- what.. what i told you last night..?"

he nodded his head, a soft "oh" coming out of his mouth. but it didn't seem like an ounce of actual empathy lied behind his eyes. a tint of red glazed it instead. she felt odd.

did he not remember? or did he choose not to?

when she was able to walk properly, he led her around. if it wasn't for the burning pit in her stomach, she'd be extremely excited. but she had a feeling that something deeper was lying under the lava pools.

"this is the palace," he sighed, gesturing to the building. "isn't it cool?"

"it is.." she muttered. this awe, she could not fake. the large, intricate structures of gold and red and the occasional fire bounced off her glassy eyes. "can we go inside? maybe you can show me your room-"

"i.." he stiffened up suddenly. "i don't think that's a good idea."

"oh.." she muttered, trying to read his firm facial expression. but she couldn't.

a thick silence fell upon them. the only noticeable thing was how her halo flicked on and off with inconsistent beats.

"hey, i have to.. do something.. how about you stay here until i'm finished, okay? maybe you can talk to my mom or.. or talk to the hellhounds," his voice was unconvincing, but she still nodded, even as disappointed as she was.

and she watched him walk away, turning the corner away from her. she couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of disgust rummaging through her. the constant stares of demons around her didn't make anything better.

her feelings were mixed. maybe he's having a good day or- or maybe he's really considering peace between them.

but what if it really was a trick?

her soft facial expressions fell into her lap, weighing her options. she always sought to find the good in people, always trying and trying to think positive. but even after she revealed everything- everything she couldn't admit out loud, he turned her away. and there was no right explanation for that, no matter how beautiful his palace was.

she straightened up, fists clenched at her sides. she wasn't going to take it. after going through so much of his hatred for so long, she didn't like him practically making fun of her death. she hated it.

she was going to look for him and tell him all of her raw feelings.

as he rounded the corner, his back hit the wall and his knees failed. his breathing was labored as he ran a blackened hand through his changing hair. he could feel the skin literally crawl off of him, and he was delighted to have his normal look back.

quackity sighed against the wall, catching up to his quickened breath. "now all he has to do is find her. and they're forced to make up. and i win my twenty bucks," he muttered under his lips. "god, quackity, you genius."

his laughs felt amazing to churn out. pretending to be wilbur was exhausting him to the core, but it was worth each and every penny of the twenty dollars he'd be receiving soon.

but, through all of his buzzing victory, he didn't notice an angry little angel looking for a certain grim reaper. he didn't notice her stomping around with her fists clenched at her sides.

and he definitely didn't notice her tripping and falling into the pit of lost souls.

wilbur's day went on horribly.

he didn't get any sleep. not that this was any different from usual; but this time his night was spent tossing and turning in his stone bed trying to think of how he was going to talk to her.

his bones ached when he got up, and no amount of stretches could heal the knot in his neck.

work was even worse. especially considering the fact that everytime he heard some sort of high pitched noise, he'd think it was a little angel fluttering her wings at him, and then he'd be able say the speech he had written up in his mind.

he was regretting his word choice of "i never want to see you again" on top of his regret for the rest of his blown out word vomit.

but as he walked from the elevator to his palace, he couldn't help but hear a sort of cry for help. and it sounded oddly similar to the angel's.

"wilbur? w-wilbur.. i know- i know you hate me but this- this hurts -"

was it?

"its not fffunny anymore- i know you got your kick out of tricking- me- but this is- ow!"

it couldn't be.

"i won't bother you again! i promise! just please- let- let me out of here- help me.. please..? it's- it's -"

he'd been hearing her voice in his head all day in somewhat intervals. but this felt more real, more raw.

he stumbled on his feet. he knew where it was coming from. he heard noises of desperate cries from it everyday, but the thought that this might be real? it scared him to his core.

worry rushed over him quicker than second thought, and he rushed over to the pit of lost souls in a panic. hoarse, raspy screams of "angel!" flew out of his throat as he scrambled to climb the volcano-like structure.

she still had a lot of questions for wilbur.

not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "wilbur? hello? please help- this hurts- are you still there?"

and she was starting to lose hope in the fact that those questions might be answered.

one things for sure; her curiosity will be the death of her.

unless he's got the courage to do something about it.

11.4k || 8.12.23 || masterlist here!

taglist (dm or send an ask to be added!) — @sixofshadowandbone @theoneandonlyyeti @harbingerofheartbreak @starsyoubreaklikesugardust @mcr-pr-fob @sapphic-soot @flynn-thebin @puppyburbites @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @merakiaes @aimi-chann @axthrial @lololol00 @deadphantomsociety @hometown-smile @qweengigi @kisstheskin

thank you so much for your read, i appreciate all of the support <33 a part two is indeed coming soon!! stay tuned

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #yoko ono #linda eastman #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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applesfallingfromblondehair · 2 years

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The 1975 (BFIAFL): a sad song about being young and stupid

Happiness: possibly the best mashup of all 75 hits that could ever exist

Looking For Somebody (To Love): a boppy future single, except it's about incels and school shootings

Part Of The Band: Matty reminiscing about drugs and cancellations, some of the best lyrics he's ever written

Oh Caroline: someone on twitter described it as 'Toto meets The 1975 meets 70's romcoms' and I couldn't agree more

I'm In Love With You: poor Matty (part 1)

All I Need To Hear: poor Matty (part 2)

Wintering: possibly the simplest yet greatest Christmas song ever written?

Human Too: dropping the sarcasm and every other mask, lying bare and begging for forgiveness

About You: Robbers (Matty's Version) (2022 Version)

When We Are Together: poor Matty (part 3)

being funny in a foreign language, ladies and gentlemen

(five stars)

#the 1975 #being funny in a foreign language #new album #matty healy #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #dirty hit

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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It’s A Long Way To The Top 🎸 | Pete Maverick Mitchell / Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)

Content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 13.5k

Social Media matching HC

Premise: The Dagger Squad didn’t know much about their former instructor turned friend, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. Only Rooster had insight on all there was when it came to the famous pilot, and his love life certainly fell into that. When the squad shows up unannounced to Maverick’s San Diego home for his birthday weekend, they are greeted with the shock of the lifetime when it’s revealed Maverick’s lady once ruled the radio of the decade they were born in. And what better way for them to properly meet one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist than by attending the bands reunion concert that night.

Note: So TC was born in 1962 and that what it also says for Maverick (although with his rank I doubt it lines up but Imma just go with it), so for this imagine you were born in 1964 and were the front woman of a famous 80s rock band who Mav meets after the events of Top Gun. I love rock music and have been listening to it nonstop the past week and this inspired me. At first I was gonna do this with Rooster or Phoenix with a modern day rockstar, but then I thought Mav was better suited for what I had planned.

Also in my research I found that the Staples Center (which is going to mentioned a lot) opened in 1999 and is now called Crypto.com Arena, but for this just imagine it opened in the 80s and is still called the Staples Center. Personally I will always refer to it as that even though it got a new name. Last thing, my favorite band is AC/DC and i use two of their songs as ‘your’ songs verbally said. The album/era names are ones I thought of off the bat, and feel free to imagine your friends as your bandmates, I just gave them names to make it easier when writing. And the photo on the collage is to show the outfit reference—I don’t write with any indication of race/ethnicity/etc unless it’s for an OC. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

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“Are you guys sure about not warning Rooster we’re coming?” Bob voiced from the passenger side of Nat’s car. In the backseat were Mickey and Payback while Hondo drove the car behind them containing Hangman and Coyote.

“Bradshaw will spoil the surprise,” Fanboy reminds him, “And the whole point of this is to surprise Mav. We haven’t seen him in months and this is the first time we’re all together again.”

“I know,” Bob sighs, leaning back into his seat before glancing at Nat, “How did you even get his address, Nat?”

She doesn’t stray her eyes from the road as she responds, “I may have convinced Admiral Simpson to give it to me, saying we all wanted to send Mav a birthday gift but didn’t have his permanent residence. I know he’s often in the Mojave desert during his vacation, but Cyclone gave me his San Diego home address.”

“Hondo didn’t even have Mav’s address?” Mickey says more to himself, surprised the man did not. He was Mav’s closest friend and had been with him since the Darkstar project.

“Hondo only had his Mojave camp—which isn’t really an address when you think about it. It’s quite literally on an old airstrip that’s not even used by the Navy anymore,” Nat tells him, “Mav lived there during their assignment so it makes sense why he only had that one.”

“So what I’m hearing is you deceived Admiral Simpson so we can show up on Mav’s doorstep like ‘surprise! We’re here!’ And Cyclone just gave it to you with no questions asked?” Payback raises a brow, catching her eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Not entirely,” she defends, “I mean we are sending him a birthday gift…..it’s just we are the birthday gift.” At the laughs from the men Nat rolls her eyes, “Y’all are in this too, so I don’t know why you’re laughing. We’re almost there. GPS says ten minutes.”

The Pacific Ocean was to their right, the sun high in the sky as the time reached one o’clock. They noticed as they traveled down the road that the houses were becoming more distant and eye-catching. “Damn,” Fanboy whistled under his breath at one point.

When they got to the turn to enter the neighborhood, they were greeted with a closed gate and security. Nat mentally cursed, not anticipating Mav lived in a gated community.

Now the jig was up and they were gonna have to call Rooster.

While Nat spoke with one of the security guards Bob was already dialing Bradley, who answered with a confused, “Hey, Bob. What’s up?”

“Rooster, hey, I’m sorry to bother you but the squad and I were planning to surprise Maverick for his birthday tonight and well….we’re kinda at the entrance to his neighborhood. We didn’t think it would be gated and needed confirmation from the resident to get in.”

“Ah damn,” Bradley said with a laugh and Bob could hear him fiddling with his keys. “I wish y’all would’ve told me, but then again I know I probably would’ve ruined it.” It was the truth, Rooster could not keep a secret if his life depended on it. Last year he unintentionally spoiled Nat’s surprise party when she got promoted. Soon it became a running joke amongst the group. “Just hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

“Wait, are you at Mav’s house?” All eyes in the car turned to Bob, the WSO catching the sound of Rooster’s Bronco starting up.

“Yeah, I’m on the list and can get y’all in. Hang on, imma tell him I’m running out to get beers.” There was a pause on the receiver before a car door shuts and Rooster says, “I’ll be there in two minutes.” Bob stayed on the line before hanging up when they caught sight of the bright blue vehicle approaching from the other side of the gate. Rooster pulled off to the side, exited the car and approached the security hut where another officer met him in the middle. The team watched as they exchanged words before the guard Nat spoke with was called over.

When he returned seconds later he said, “we’re gonna open the gate and if you could please pull off to where my buddy directs you and step out. We have to check the cars.”

“Sure thing,” Nat says with a wave as he goes to relay the same to Hondo. Passing the gate, she parks the car where the guard instructs and all four step out from the vehicle. Hondo pulls up seconds later with Hangman and Coyote coming over to stand with the group as Rooster approaches.

“Well this sure is some special treatment,” Hangman jokes when an officer comes up with a metal detector to begin scanning the squad while the two search their cars. He notices one of the officers writing down the car information, including the license plate number. “Never seen this before when I’ve been to a gated neighborhood.”

“It’s just precaution since it’s your first time” Rooster says, dabbing up the guys when they are finished being scanned. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“It’s good to see you too, Bradshaw,” Nat gives him a hug and appears apologetic. “Sorry we didn’t let you know in advance.”

“Ah it’s all good. Like I told Bob I probably would’ve ruined it.” They all laugh, some muttering sounds of agreement. It was all in good heart though, Bradley wasn’t offended. He was just happy to see his friends again and celebrate Mav’s 60th with them.

The only thing….they were in for their own surprise when they got to the house.

“Does the governor of California live here or something?” Javy jokes, but judging by the way Rooster reacts he’s certain there is some truth to it.

“All clear!” The main guard shouts, nodding to Rooster. “Y’all are free to go, just make sure to call in if you leave the area and return later on.”

“Will do,” Rooster salutes, shaking his hand afterwards. “Thanks again, Frank.” Telling his friends to follow behind him, they all got into their respective vehicles and headed down the road leading to the neighborhood.

“Sheeeesh,” Mickey says in awe at some of the houses they passed. They looked to be a million bucks. Literally. They were distanced quite a bit like something you see in Calabasas and had long entrances. “Mav should be on MTV’s cribs. How the hell does a naval Captain get something like this?”

“Probably by saving for that perfect retirement home,” Nat comments, eyes lingering on one house that caught her eyes.

“Nah,” Payback shakes his head, “I’ve seen Admirals with places not even to this extent. No offense to Mav, but I don’t see how an O-6 could afford a place like this.” About a minute passed before they were turning into a long driveway, all four jaws dropping at the sight of the home.

Yeah they needed to know Pete’s secret.

It was a gorgeous two-story mediterranean style home with an iron gate surrounding the perimeter. The exterior was beautiful, with flowers and various plants on the grounds. A front enclosed patio was the first thing they could see connecting to a foyer where the front door was located. Only one word could describe the home: marvelous.

The driveway was crescent shaped and could fit at least four cars with a side entrance leading to the garage. Rooster pulled up to the furthest spot allowing Nat and Hondo to pull up behind him. “Holy shit,” Fanboy says in awe, hopping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

Shutting his own door, Hangman whistles, “If this is what retirement looks like, I can’t wait.”

“C’mon,” Rooster chuckles, nodding his head to the entrance. “Mav’s in the garage working on his bike.” The squad all rushes to get the gifts, beer, and food they had brought for the pilot, following behind Rooster while trying to not make it look like they were gawking at the home. They hadn’t even seen the inside yet but could already tell it was going to be as incredible as the outside.

Putting a finger to his lips, the group remains quiet at Rooster’s command as they ease their way into the garage. It was very similar to the one at his camp hangar in the desert. Pictures hung on a wall with several plaques. Motorcycles lined up and sitting in the corner was a gorgeous 1966 Dodge Charger. Coyote had to put a hand to his mouth to keep from making a sound when he saw it.

“That you, Bradley?” Mav said with his back to the group, unaware his practically surrogate son was not alone. He was dressed in a greased up white tee with some old light washed jeans and boots. Playing on the radio was the 80s on 8 channel from SiriusXM.

“Yeah it’s me,” Rooster places a case of beers the squad brought on the counter near the fridge. “I brought some strays too while I was at it.”

“Strays? What—?” Mav laughs, moving to turn around which resulted in his mouth dropping and wrench clinking to the floor.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted, grinning widely at their former instructor who was completely speechless. “Happy Birthday, Mav!”

“Wha-oh my gosh!” The pilot's feet moved before he could stop them, embracing Phoenix first since she was closest before doing the same to the others. As he pulls away from Hondo, patting his back Mav goes, “What’re you doing here?”

“Surprising you for your birthday, old man,” Hangman lightly punches his shoulder. “You’re turning the big six-zero, there was no way we were missing it.”

“Aww thanks guys,” the man blushes, grinning when they bombard him with gifts. “It’s so good to see you all—I-I wish I would’ve known you were coming.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, Cap,” Fanboy points to him with a knowing look.

“True,” Mav laughs, directing the crew to put the bags and all on the counter in the garage where the sink was located. “Thank you all so much, you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen ya, Mav,” Phoenix tells him, accepting the beer Rooster offers her that was already in the fridge. He passes them out to the crew, except Bob and Mav who kindly decline. Phoenix waves a hand, “Quite the place you got. Rooster had to come save us at the gate.”

Mav raises a brow at Rooster, “You didn’t know about this?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I’m sure you can guess why.” It takes Mav a moment, but then he chuckles, thinking back to the many times Bradley did ruin a surprise. Nat’s promotion party, Hondo’s birthday dinner, and the tickets the group got Mickey to attend SDCC’s Star Wars reunion panel.

“We hope we didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Bob says. “Dropping in unannounced. We weren’t sure if you had anything planned this weekend, but we all took a few days off—got rooms in TLF back at Fightertown, so we would love to take you out for dinner or something this weekend.”

Mav glances at Rooster, who gives a knowing look to the pilot while sipping his beer. The two share a silent exchange of words before he scratches the back of his neck….a few catch the reflective metal of a gold on his left ring finger. Phoenix and Bob’s eyes widen, looking around to see if anyone else spotted what they did.

“Um, well we did have plans tonight—but I can make a call and figure something out. Tomorrow for sure I’m free all day so whatever you guys want to do I’m game.”

“What kind of plans?” Coyote asks before Payback and Hondo nudges him for being nosy. “Owwww.”

Hesitant to reply, Mav gives Rooster another look before nodding his head to the door, “why don’t you guys come inside. Make yourself comfortable while I make a quick call.”

“Are you not going to—,” Mav is quick to cut Bradley off with a wink. Confused, the entire squad look at each other with the same expression before following behind Mav while Rooster is the last to enter and shut the garage door.

Pete doesn’t have to turn around to know they were all gawking at the interior of the home. The first rooms closest to the garage were the laundry room, open kitchen and dining room. Sounds of approaching steps alerted the group and several audibly reacted to the adult Dalmatian, white husky, and golden retriever puppy racing after them.

“Oh my gosh,” Javy kneeled down to pet the Goldie pawing at his legs. “Your dogs are adorable.” The husky was licking at Jake’s face while Phoenix and Bob were occupied with the Dalmatian before each dog inspected each of the guests. “What are their names?”

“That’s Ice,” he pointed to the husky first then the Dalmatian, “Bella.” Lastly he pointed at the puppy, who was kissing up on Mickey, “and Goose.” They spend a good three minutes right there in the kitchen allowing the dogs to receive attention from the squad before Mav directs them to the living room.

And that’s when they pass the cabinet.

A cabinet that was just one of many.

“Uh, Mav,” Payback stops, causing those behind him to do the same, gaze locked on the floor to ceiling glass cabinet—if you could call it that, it was more like a shrine.

Dedicated to one of the world's most renowned rock bands.

“Yeah?” Mav already knew what they were looking at. And that was only scratching the surface compared to the others in the house.

“Say, uh—,” Payback tilts his head, pointing to the cabinet, “Are you like, obsessed with ‘Y/n & the Romantics’,” several eyes trailed along the various shelves lined with actual Grammy awards for ‘Best Rock Performance by a Duo/Group’, ‘Best Rock Album’, ‘Best Rock Song’, ‘Record of the Year,’ & ‘Album of the Year,’ going back as 1980 to 2021 as the most recent. Other awards included almost a dozen in MTV Moonmen, Billboard Music Awards, American Music Awards, and an Oscar for ‘Best Original Song’. Framed photographs of the band hung on the walls and perched on the shelves. Some included them with famed music legends like Cher, Prince, Micheal Jackson, Cyndi Lauper, Lionel Richie, Def Leppard, and Duran Duran….those of which the squad could make out the signature on the photograph itself. An eye catcher was the USA for Africa signed photograph of every artist, including the Romantics, featured in Michael Jackson’s “We Are The World.”

One shelf pretty much was reserved for all the times they were the musical guests on SNL. Four times to be exact. Another shelf, that had their eyes boggling, was dedicated to their 1999 Super Bowl Halftime performance with a football signed by the band and head coaches of the teams that played that year.

Fanboy nearly shit his pants when he saw the guitars mounted on the wall. Not only were they signed by absolute icons, including Elvis fucking Preseley, but one of which was the iconic checkered neon pink Fender Stratocaster frontwoman Y/n L/n played in the 80s.

Y/n L/n. Dubbed the ‘daughter of Rock ‘n’ Roll’ with a voice that had people say she was what an angel would sound like if they rebelled from God to become a rockstar. Together with some of her best friends from high school, formed the group ‘Y/n & the Romantics,’ signing with a small label in Atlanta, Georgia in 1978 at aged 14 after being discovered on the corner of a street playing covers of Elvis, The Beatles, and Billie Holiday. What had the producer write up a contract right there was when he heard Y/n’s rendition of ‘Crybaby,’ by Janis Joplin. It was as though Janis had been reincarnated. Her voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard.

They released their first single on New Year’s Day of 1979. That first single that had RCA Records knocking on their door and shot them into becoming one of the best selling rock bands of all time. When MTV launched on August 1, 1981, their music video for their Grammy Award winning single was the third to be played after ‘Video Killed The Radio Star,’ by the Buggles, and ‘You Better Run’ by Pat Benatar. Y/n & the Romantics became teen sensations, dominating the 1980s and 90s before going on hiatus in the early 2000s. Y/n was not only known for her recognizable, unique voice but also her split dye hair, leather outfits, stage presence, and signature pink guitar she named, ‘Dirty Shirley.’

And it was in Maverick’s house.

“Holy shit,” Phoenix breathed out, patting Payback to look to the left. That’s when he noticed the wedding picture hung on the wall not too far from where they were standing. The bride, kissing Maverick in the photo, was the same woman holding a Grammy with her bandmates.

Eyes bulging out, Payback whistled and asked what they were all thinking, “Or…. you got something to tell us?”

August 15, 1989. Los Angeles, California. Club Electic Idol

“Tell me, Pete—or do you prefer Maverick?” The blue light shining above her in the bar had the glitter on her face reflect. She was dazzling. Unlike any woman he’d ever met. And Pete met a lot in his career, though they never captivated him like she was now. He wanted to dance with her forever

Arms around his neck, their bodies pressed together as they swayed to the beat of ‘When Doves Cry,’ by Prince. The leather adorning her body was smooth against his fingertips. Completely ignorant of the flashing of cameras from the side and envious gazes of both men and women around them. Never did the pilot think when he, Ice, and Slider agreed on coming to that bar after the concert that he would end up with the frontwoman in his arms. They were just looking for a place to grab a quick drink, maybe dance with a girl or two, and chill before heading back to their hotel.

Guess Y/n & the Romantics were looking to do the same. Fate seemed to bring them together.

“Either is fine, sweetheart.” She smirked at the nickname, finding it amusing. God, even her smirk was sexy. Everything about her was.

“You do that little show of yours each time you see a pretty lady? Or am I just special?”

Damn she caught him.

Truth be told it scared the shit out of him to even think about doing it. Had it not been for the light buzz from drinking a couple beers and encouragement from Ice saying, “You’re the only bloke in this bar who could probably get her into bed if you tried, Mitchell. I saw her eyeing you when you went to pick a song on the jukebox.”

At first he refused. It was Y/n fucking L/n of all people. And there were plenty of people, men and women, who were taking a shot at swooning the rockstar. Left and right they were offering her drinks and asking her to dance. Mav would only go up to her if Ice and Slider sang with him. There was no way in hell he would embarrass just himself. Especially if it didn’t turn out the way he wanted.

The fact it actually did work had the pilot thank his guardian angel, who no doubt had to have been Goose.

“I’ve only done it a few times. The first crashed and burned. Second time actually got me a date,” his lips curled up, “Now I’m hoping the third time’s a charm.”

“I see,” she hummed, never taking her eyes off him. The silence that indicated she was deep in thought. “What are you hoping to get out of it?”

“Honestly, maybe a kiss when the night comes to an end if you’d allow me the honor. But if not I would want you to never forget me. Just like I won’t ever forget you.”

“After a performance like that, Lieutenant, I’ll remember you till the end of time. And about that kiss….” She brings her mouth closer to his, but still enough distance to keep them apart. Pete felt his heart skip at the proximity, the perfume she wore filling his nostrils. “Keep impressing me and it just might come true.”

Present Day

“Wait-wait-wait,” Phoenix laughed with the guys as Maverick finished telling the story of when he went with Slider and Iceman to see Y/n & the Romantics perform at the Staples center in 1989. They were all seated in the living room—which had more framed photos of not just Y/n and her band but also of her and Maverick over the years and Rooster as a child.

Jake took photos of that on his phone to hold for blackmail. Now it made sense why Rooster was always singing their songs on the piano when they would go out.

After giving a quick tour of the first floor of the home, they all settled in the living room with his dogs as Mav sent a text to his lady to call him after soundcheck. Beers were brought out and some snacks, the crew still processing the news as they took it all in. Eventually after a quick explanation, Pete answered the many questions they had, including just how the hell he managed to pull one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist.

Whose band literally had a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and were being inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame in just a few months.

“So from what I’m gathering,” Nat points to her forehead, as though she were deep in thought, “If my brain is right on track here….you were, to put it lightly…a groupie?”

“Now hold on—.” Mav tried to say but was cut off by the obnoxious laughter that was Javy, Mickey, and Jake while Bob and Hondo just shook their heads, although they were grinning wide at the insinuation. Rooster was smirking like, ‘told you so.’ Mav sighed, but he was smiling as the laughter died down. “I was not a groupie. Okay—yeah I had the hope I would meet her after the show, but I didn’t go out of my way to make that happen. They just happened to come to the same bar that night—I swear!”

“That literally sounds like what a groupie is, Mav,” Hondo pats his back. “You just got lucky it went in your favor.”

Blushing, Mav coughed lightly as he laughed with the group before adding, “I’d like to point out that nothing … you know, happened, alright? We simply had some drinks, danced…I may have tried serenading her with my rendition of ‘You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,’” the laughter got louder, making his blush deepen, “and then we exchanged addresses to send each other letters—because that’s what you did back in the day or call on the landline. It was history from there.”

“Don’t forget, Mav,” Rooster points at him. “You guys made out and then you exchanged addresses before leaving.” Mav has to cover his face to hide his blush when the group hollar and cheer.

“So how long y’all been together?” Rueben asks, finishing off his beer.

“Since 1990. But we didn’t get married until 2002 after the band went on hiatus.”

“How come?” Phoenix tilted her head curiously.

Though Phoenix and most of the guys were not die hard fans of Y/n & the Romantics, they were familiar with their music of course. As one of the most influential rock bands of all time everyone had heard of them in some way, shape, or form. Their parents often played their records, or they’d hear them on the radio and in movies. The squad were all born in the 1980s & early 90s so by the time they got into their teenage years the band had already stopped releasing music. It wasn’t until late 2020 they announced a reunion with the release of their latest album and were currently on tour across North America. During the hiatus however, Y/n still wrote songs for other artists and even released a few solo records. Some of the Grammy’s in the case belonged to only her and not just with the band.

Personal lives of the band members were not something they knew too well. The only people in the group who had knowledge of some details were Mickey, who was a big fan growing up, and Hondo. Bob was also a fan, having played the drums as a teenager and cited them to be a big influence. On google information showed that the group consisted of Y/n, the lead vocalist who also played guitar, Maya the bass player, Evan the lead guitarist, Danny the drummer, and Ronnie on keys. All of them provided backup vocals on tracks.

Maya and Evan ended up falling in love, confirming long time rumors they were together in 1987 and had three kids over the course of the 90s. Danny married a famous actress in 2000 with whom he had a son. Lastly Ronnie was once married to the lead singer of another rock group before divorcing and finding love with a movie producer from when she landed a role in a tv drama, the two adopted a son and daughter in the early 2000s.

Y/n’s information did actually include the fact she and Maverick met in 1989 when they played at the Staples center, that he was a Captain in the Navy being the only man to shoot down five enemy planes in the last 40 years, and were together for over a decade before finally getting married. They did not have kids and the text read how they liked to keep their personal lives private.

Rooster of course knew everything. The first time he met Y/n was in 1991 when he was 7 years old and looked at her like a second mother growing up. She taught him piano and guitar, let him attend shows when the group were on tour in Virginia, and was always a phone call away even after he and Maverick were at odds. Since she didn’t have kids, Bradley was the closest to what it was like having a son. There was no way she was going to let them drift apart after vowing to Carole she would take care of him. They spoke almost weekly with Rooster updating Y/n on his career and asking when she was getting the band back together, knowing she missed going on the road and performing.

“Soon,” she would tell him with a laugh, “I’m working on some songs in the meantime. We all agreed once the kids are older that we’ll come back.” That was in 2012. Now it was 2022 and finally Y/n & the Romantics were on stage performing for a sold out crowd full of people from all ages. They were all in their late 50s but still knew how to rock n’ roll like the good ole days. Y/n never lost her stage presence, the audience thrived on it. Over the years she took care of her voice so she would sound exactly like she did in the 80s. It was her staple after all.

Answering Nat’s question, Mav gave a light shrug, “It just sorta happened that way honestly. We were happy with how things were—marriage was not for us until then. I should say legally married actually, because here in California the relationship was viewed as common law marriage since we had been together for so many years,” Mav explained before taking a sip of water, “Around the time they disbanded the others had young or were starting to have children so they decided to take a break until the kids were grown up.”

“I think that was the first time I saw my mother cry,” Bob chuckled, fixing his glasses as all eyes turned to him. “My mom was—is a huge fan. Anytime we went on road trips she’d play one of their albums. I think she even saw them live when she was in college—said it was one of the best nights of her life. She had a crush on Danny if I’m not mistaken.” Mav smiles, not surprised it was Danny. In the 80s the man was quite the heartthrob.

“How come you never told us?” Mickey cut in. It was a question all were curious to know. Hondo knew Mav was married, but not to whom. He and Penny had history and were friendly at the Hard Deck so they assumed they were together or possibly going to. Finding out he’s been in a long time relationship with Y/n L/n was the shock of their life.

“We like our privacy. It’s why we waited to get married also, because of how big they were in the 80s and 90s. I got followed by paparazzi in the beginning—which was causing problems with my job. We actually pretended to break up in the late 90s to get them off my back,” Mav shrugs again, “I also don’t like the idea of bragging that my wife is Y/n L/n. I love and respect her so much. Yeah I was a fan of her music, but what made me fall in love with her was getting to know her for who she was. Not Y/n the rockstar, but Y/n the girl who replays her favorite songs if someone talks during it. Who can quote every single line from ‘Dirty Dancing’. Who will scold me for leaving seven half filled water bottles on my nightstand.” Laughs rang out at that. “We personally enjoy letting people discover it on their own, rather than telling them upfront.”

“I still can’t wrap it around my head,” Jake waves a hand to emphasize his point. “That you pulled pretty much the woman all our dads, maybe even moms, had a crush on. Your game is on another level. Like please tell me your secrets, pops.” Phoenix playfully slaps Hangman on the shoulder.

Before he could answer the pilot, Maverick’s phone rings causing him to jolt from the couch. “Give me a moment guys,” excusing himself he goes around the corner into the hallway before answering, “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, is everything good? Your message sounded urgent.”

Mav heard sounds in the background, possibly the crew setting up the stage for the night’s show. “Everything is great….uhh-say is tonight’s show sold out?”

“Yessss,” he could hear the confusion laced in her tone. “At least that was what I was told by Hank. Why? Did Bradley want to bring a friend? I’m sure I can get a pass.” Mav let out a sigh, scratching his chin.

“If it’s too much to ask then don’t worry about it, I know you gotta get back to soundcheck and have a few hours until the concert starts. But my former students from a few years ago surprised me today to celebrate my birthday. They’re here at the house—Bradley didn’t even know they were coming, honey.”

Y/n laughed, “I wouldn’t have bet money on him to know,” they laughed together, Y/n following with, “But that’s so sweet of them! I know how much you’ve missed them since you retired last year. How long are they in town?”

“Just for the weekend. They all got rooms on base and were hoping to take me out either tonight or possibly tomorrow. I told them I had plans tonight….”

“But you didn’t tell them what plans, huh?” Mav could picture the smirk on her face. “Do they know?”

“About us? I just finished telling them why I never mentioned anything. They seem to understand and were apologetic for dropping in unannounced. But…..I have not told them that the last stop in your tour is tonight at the Staples Center and Bradley and I were going to be leaving in a few hours.”

“Who all is it?”

“My buddy Hondo from when I did the Darkstar project—I think I’ve told you about him, the two foxtrot teams I did the uranium mission with and two of my reserves. So seven total.”

“I see,” Y/n humed, finding her husband’s situation amusing. He let out a groan, apologizing but she just laughed and said, “Well since it is your birthday and I’ve been wanting to meet your little dagger ducklings forever now,” he smiled at the nickname Y/n had given the pilots. They really were his ducklings. “Let me talk with Hank and the venue manager. Show doesn’t start till seven so there’s plenty of time. Just hang tight and I’ll call you back, okay? I know you're probably losing your mind because you don’t want to miss tonight’s show knowing it’s the last of the tour, but you also want to spend time with them while they're in town. Imma make sure you get both, pretty boy…..and maybe a little something more when the night comes to a close.”

Fuck that got Mav blushing, knowing exactly what she was implying. “Y/n…”

“Love you, Pete. Wait for my call.” Telling her the same, Mav hangs up the phone and reenters the living room. Rooster immediately meets his eye, lifting a thumbs up to which Mav returns with a gesture to signify he was working on it. For the next thirty minutes the squad makes small talk until his phone rings again. “Hey.”

“Would it be okay if you put me on speaker?”

A smile forms on his lips, “Sure thing,” he looks at the group to catch their attention, “Someone wants to say hi,” they all, minus Rooster who’s smirking, watch with confused expressions as Mav hits the speaker button and places the phone on the table. “What have you got for us, honey?” The second the pet name leaves his lips, Mav sees Fanboy drop his now empty cup of water, Phoenix slap a hand over her mouth, Javy pushing Jake and vice versa muttering ‘holy shit.’ Everyone else pretty much does something similar when Y/n’s voice echoes through the receiver, “Hello hello, aviators.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yo this ain’t happening right now.”

“Guys, guys, shut up—holy shit.”

Y/n laughed at the reactions. “It’s so nice to finally—even if it’s over the phone at the moment—meet you guys! Pete talks about you all everyday.”

“I-I wish we could say the same about you, ma’am,” Payback nervously laughs. “We didn’t even know the man was hitched until an hour ago. Also we apologize for the fanboying-fangirling, it’s an honor to speak to such a legend. You’re an icon.”

“Oh you’re too kind,” she awes, “thank you so much. I hope you guys can forgive him for not saying anything—he meant well.”

“We understand,” Phoenix says on their behalf. “We’d also like to say sorry for showing up to your house uninvited—your home is beautiful by the way. We-we just wanted to surprise Captain Mitchell since it’s been so long since we were all together and he’s done so much for us.”

“I think that’s so amazing you guys did that! I wish I could’ve been home to greet you guys and see the look on his face. Did he cry by any chance?”

“Honey please…” Mav pleaded, causing everyone to laugh.

“I’m sorry, babe. Anyways, Pete tells me you guys are in town for the weekend and well……tonight the Romantics and I are playing our last show in L.A at seven. Bradley and Pete were set to leave San Diego around four to make it on time and if y’all are up for the short drive…..I have seven passes reserved with your names on them.”

The reaction of the dagger squad could only be described with a singular word: chaos.

First it was more of denial, but then they saw Maverick and Rooster’s face and realized Y/n was in fact serious. She was inviting them to her concert. The final show in her band’s reunion tour. The soon to be Rock n Roll Hall of Famers.

Yeah, they about lost their minds.

“I gotta call my mom—she’s gonna flip!”

“How the hell am I supposed to continue living life after this?”

“This is your birthday Mav!” Phoenix pointed at him while Bob had his hands in his face, expression unreadable. “You’re not supposed to be giving us anything, it's the other way around!”

“Nat, I would love nothing more than to spend my birthday with you guys at the concert tonight.” That just about made her tear up.

“Yo so this is legit?” Coyote held up a hand, trying to calm his excitement. “We’re actually going?”

“Hell yeah!” Jake said, Rooster and Payback agreeing with a high-five. “What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.”

“Y/n, thank you so much,” Hondo said on their behalf. “I’m sorry if you can’t hear over these clowns in the background, but I’ll speak for everyone when I say that we are so grateful for you to invite us to experience your show together and celebrate Mav’s birthday. I don’t think we’ll stop thanking you so be warned.”

After a few more minutes of mainly the squad bombarding the rockstar with words of gratitude and thanks, Y/n informs Pete of where to go when they get to the venue and she’ll meet them backstage to give them the passes. When they say their goodbyes and hang up, Coyote goes, “Okay so I don’t know about y’all…but I cannot walk into a rock concert dressed like this,” he gestures to his gray Navy t-shirt and torn jeans, “How much time we got, Cap?” The question has Pete check his watch.

“If we wanna get there before the doors open, I’d say we should leave in about two hours. It’s gonna take at least two hours to get to L.A, and we gotta consider traffic.” Mav thinks for a moment before saying, “I may have something that can help. Follow me.”

In one of the many closets used as a storage place, Pete removed a box from the self and opened it to reveal a bunch of vintage t-shirts of Y/n & the Romantics.

“Oh my gosh this is so cool,” Fanboy awed. Some of the shirts were literally from the 80s and 90s but looked to be in new condition, meaning they must have been extras Y/n kept for safekeeping. Nowadays it was hard for someone to get their hands on anything with the classic logo of Y/n & the Romantics unless it was from Etsy or a private seller. Stores like Hot Topic, Spencers, and those dedicated to the 80s or retro-like were the only places to buy the new style of merchandise. But these in the box, they were classic.

“Look through and see if you can find anything. There’s several sizes and styles—most of these were from their ‘Heartbreaker’ era but you may find some from ‘Love is the Eighth Deadly Sin,’ or ‘Rock ‘n’ Rolling to Heaven.’ We have some leather jackets I’d be happy to lend you guys—and Nat, Y/n wanted me to tell you that you’re more than welcome to borrow anything you’d like.” Her eyes go wide.

“Oh I couldn’t possibly—.”

Rooster claps his hands excitedly, cutting Nat off much to her annoyance, “Time to turn you guys into rockstars. Fuck yeah! This is gonna be the best night ever!”

So that’s how the famed naval aviators ended up in their vehicles on a two hour journey to Los Angeles. It was far from what they expected when they set out to surprise Pete Mitchell, but in Maverick fashion things take a different turn when one least expects it. The couple’s dog sitter was called to tend to their animals since it was likely they would not be coming home till the next day. Just after 3:30pm the squad, now dressed like they were straight from the 80s by cutting holes in their jeans and wearing leather jackets and chains Maverick provided, gathered in the cars and hit the road. Maverick and Rooster ended up driving, with Hondo, Coyote, Hangman and Payback in Mav’s SUV and Fanboy, Bob, and Phoenix with Rooster in the Bronco.

Upon instance from Y/n after chatting briefly with her on the phone to make sure it was okay, Nat relented on wearing the red leather Prada two piece set the rockstar wore at the 1994 MTV video awards. It fit like a glove on the pilot, jaw dropping when she looked at herself in the mirror, “Damn.” While in the car she applied some black eye pencil and smudged it out to give her that 80s grunge appearance, to which she made Fanboy and Bob do the same, “Bradshaw, I expect you to rock this too.” At a red light he applied it like a pro, like he’d done it many times before not even needing to fix it.

The entire way both vehicles played Y/n & the Romantics decades worth of music. It surprised a lot of the crew when they recognized some songs from movies and tv shows they had no idea were by them. “This was in Stranger Things!” Coyote shouted over the sound, head banging his head along to the beat. Another song had Bob go, “Wasn’t this in the Guardians of The Galaxy?”

By the time they got to L.A the city life was at its prime. Traffic was insane as usual but thankfully they made it to the Staples Center just before six o’clock. The sign outside the venue glowed bright with ‘Y/n & The Romantics—Rockin’ Down Memory Lane Reunion Tour. TONIGHT ONLY—SOLD OUT.’ Pete pulled in front of Rooster to speak to the guard when they got to the back gate. After speaking through a radio for confirmation they allowed the two cars to enter and directed them on where to go.

When they get in the building it’s buzzing all around them. Crew members of both the band and the venue run past and speak into radios. They could barely make out the words combined with the faint rumble of the crowd inside. Before a security guard could ask why they were there, Y/n’s managers, Hank and Tasha Robinson noticed them and rushed over. “Pete! Great to see ya!” The pilot exchanged hugs with the couple. They then greet Bradley, who they’ve known since he was a child, and the squad, “You guys must be the pilots! It’s nice to meet you all—are you excited for the show?”

“Absolutely.” “Can’t wait!” “We’re so excited.” “Thank you for allowing us to come on such short notice.”

“You all look great!” Tasha grinned, gasping when she saw Nat’s outfit, “Oh my goodness. Hank, look! You recognize this?” Blushing immensely, Nat didn’t know how to react besides laughing nervously as they complimented her. “You look fabulous, darling.”

“Thank you. It’s an honor to wear it—I-I hope I did it justice.”

At that moment Y/n came around the corner, a slight skip in her step until she was lifted into Pete’s arms causing her to break into giggles. They hadn’t seen each other in almost two weeks while she was touring the west coast cities. It filled the squad with warmth seeing their mentor/friend so happy. Nerves filled them, they were about to meet one the greatest voices of rock music.

Mav spun Y/n around before setting her back down, the two sharing a sweet kiss. “Missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too,” he says against her lips, kissing them once more before guiding her to the group. Bradley is the first to hug Y/n, who squeals in delight since it had been months since they last saw each other.

“Hey sugar, look at you! It seems like every time I see you, you got a new look going on,” she fluffs his hair which was now lighter in tone after he got some highlights. “You look good, Roo. Is this a new shirt?” she gestures to the Hawaiian shirt beneath the leather jacket Bradley was wearing.

“Had to pull it out for the special occasion,” he gives her a sweet kiss to the cheek while handing her the bouquet of flowers he and Mav got. Thanking him, Y/n grins at the sight of the group standing behind him.

“And you fellas must be the famous dagger squad I’ve heard all about!” They were literally speechless as they stared back at the singer. She literally was what one would envision when they thought of a rockstar. Smudged eyeliner with sparkly eyeshadow framed her eyes, dark red lipstick and her outfit was black leather that showed a bit of skin due to some cutouts, but was still modest. Where the skin showed they could make out intricate tattoos and both her arms had half sleeves of ink. She had on a harness with silver chains, thigh high boots with studs along the sides.

She was THE rockstar.

Though in her late 50s, Y/n was still breathtakingly beautiful. Yeah there was some grayness to her otherwise shiny, healthy hair, and some age lines around her eyes and mouth that poked through the makeup, but Y/n could literally pass for mid to late 40s. Same with Pete who just turned 60 and looked amazing for his age. Standing next to each other, they were one hot ass couple.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you guys—in person now! Ah I’ve been buzzing with excitement since we got off the phone earlier,” she clapped her hands, moving to Fanboy who was internally losing it like his namesake.

“I-I hi, w-wow. I’m Mickey Garcia—or talk about irony, you may call me Fanboy. It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. L/n—Mitchell uh-I’m sorry. I’m a big fan.”

Y/n giggled, shaking his outstretched hand before bringing him into a friendly hug. “Oh honey, I don’t even know what to call myself sometimes. But, please call me Y/n. You guys are family now.” She goes down the line to meet each pilot, shaking their hand and hugging while saying their name back to instill it in her memory. Of course she knew their names and faces from photos, but meeting them in person was completely different and Y/n wanted to make sure she would remember who was who. When she gets to Natasha’s she can’t help but shriek, “Yay you wore it! You look amazing-oh my gosh!”

“Thank you so much,” Nat blushes again, this time because the owner of said outfit she wore was gushing over her. “Thank you for letting me wear it—I will do my best to not let anything happen to it.” Y/n assures her to not worry about it and the two have the band photographer take a couple photos of them. The guys video the whole thing causing Phoenix to flip them off at times which has the married couple laugh. Soon the band comes out, causing Fanboy, Bob, and Coyote to almost lose it and before they know it everyone is conversing like it was an ordinary Friday night. Hondo, Mav, Y/n, Phoenix and Payback are off to the side with Maya, Evan, and their kids while the others are chatting with other members and their families who came to the show.

“It’s unreal to think this year marks forty-four years,” Evan said, sitting on one of the chairs with his hand on Maya’s lower back who stood beside him.

“Yeah,” she agreed with a smile, “just a group of kids we were then. With a dream only the effects of good ole weed could give us the confidence to have our asses out at that park and hope someone would hear us.”

Y/n drops her head laughing, aware of the somewhat surprised looks of the aviators and Hondo. “Wait-really?” Y/n was known for her exhilarating stage presence. She was like Elvis, Janis Joplin, and Micheal Jackson, always captivating the crowd and keeping them hype. When watching the performances it was like Y/n was in her own little world and thrived on the energy.

“It was the 70s,” she shrugged, still smiling which made her eyes crinkle. “Believe it or not we all used to have stage fright—especially in the beginning when we first started performing. We were….gosh fourteen when we signed, fifteen when we performed on Johnny Carson. Good Lord I was shaking in my boots in the dressing room,” she gave a mock shake of the shoulders, reliving the memory, “The only way I could get up there and sing was if I had smoked. Took the edge off.” Maya and Evan nodded in agreement, Y/n leaning into Maverick’s arms as he stood behind her chair. “I think it was after we toured in ‘85 for ‘Love Is The Eighth Deadly Sin,’ that I could perform without anything. Though I still did it at times,” her smile fell into more of a sad expression, adding, “and unfortunately being in the industry at that time, and being so young, we were exposed to other things.”

She didn't have to explain to the aviators, for it was public knowledge when they read up on the band during their drive that Y/n, Ronnie and Danny had admitted to experimenting in the 80s with cocaine. It was common in that era, with many artists and actors in Hollywood able to get their hands on it easily. For Y/n, it was the frontman of another rock group she’d been romantically linked to who introduced her to the drug. Thankfully nothing ever happened that caused a big scandal or had the members needing professional help. They had their family, the support of their crew and each other so they never let anyone fall too deep to where they couldn’t get back up.

“But we survived,” Maya emphasizes, beaming at her husband, “and it sure has been one hell of a ride since. I can’t wait for November—I think I’m more excited for the induction ceremony than I was for the Super Bowl.” Evan goes on to playfully reject the claim, insisting his wife was way more excited about getting that call over 20 years ago than the news just last month about the Hall of Fame.

Y/n just shakes her head with fondness, leaning more into Maverick, who kisses the top of her head.

“Brings back memories, huh? Here at the Staples Center again after so many years.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, his friends chatting with the guitarist and bassist. “I just wish Ice and Slider were here. Then it would really be a blast from the past.”

“I saw Slider when we played in Florida. He brought the whole family—it was amazing.”

“Yeah he called me afterwards. Said you guys put on the best show of the year,” his lips curled up, leaning more towards her ear, “he also told me you threw in a song in the set I was going to get a kick out of.”

Y/n mirrored his smile, eyes full of mischief, “Oh you will, but I ain’t saying nothing, hot stuff. You’ll have to wait for when it comes up.”

“Can’t wait,” he chuckles, kissing her cheek lovingly.

Roughly ten minutes later the stage manager was rushing over, “We’re down to t-minus twenty till showtime people—we gotta start clearing!” Immediately the band are hurrying to say their goodbyes. Y/n practically runs to find the person needed to take the group to their seats. When she does, they hand out the passes to each person, “Julius is going to take you all up to the room. It’s gonna be one of the VIP boxes, the closest to the stage I believe, and it should have sodas, water, alcohol, and food. But if you need anything then just run it by him.”

They all spit out words of gratitude, blown away by the special treatment they were receiving. Y/n takes her time to hug each one of the pilots, who wish her good luck and thank her again for everything. Rooster lets his hug linger a bit longer, as does Maverick who brings the woman into a passionate kiss. “Thank you for doing this, baby. I owe you.”

“It’s your birthday, Pete. You know I would do anything to make you happy,” she lowers her voice into his ear, kissing the area just below, “Sorry it couldn’t be like the good ole days when I would sneak you into my dressing for some fun.” His hands squeeze her hips, sighing at the memories as she giggled.

“There’s still the after party,” he warns her, tone thick with something she knew all too well.

“I’m well aware, hot stuff.”

They share another kiss. And another. And another before Y/n pushes him away at the teasing shouts of everyone around them, Pete bidding good luck to her and the band before he sets off with the group. Rooster nudges him, smirking at the retired pilot, “well that kiss sure would motivate anyone about to go on stage.”

“Don’t start, Bradley.”

By the time they reached the room, they could literally feel the rumble of the crowd when the lights in the arena shut off. “Holy shit,” Mickey said, the first to open the balcony door of the room where they would view the show. Inside were couches, chairs, tvs, and refreshments. Coyote had his phone out, videoing the scene for his instagram story as they all grabbed beers and water before taking spots on the balcony.

The sight was surreal. The stage was to their left and extended out, splitting the floor in half. Approximately 20,000 people could fit in the Staples Center, and from the looks of it 20,000 people were in attendance. It was a sold out show after all. People from all age groups were there. Hell Bob swore he saw some young kids on the shoulders of their parents. The most were obviously the older crowd who likely grew up in the 80s, but there were definitely college kids and Millennials.

It got louder and louder when the two minute countdown appeared on the Jumbotron, along with a video montage of the band. Some clips showed them when they were first starting out up to them preparing for the reunion tour. As it drew closer to zero, the video showed a pre-taped montage of each member taking their place on stage. Maya wrapping the strap of her bass around her shoulder, Evan with his guitar. Ronnie taking place in front of the keyboard and Danny sitting at his drums. Lastly Y/n strutted up to the microphone, the clock hitting zero the moment her hand raises in the air and the arena goes black.

Not even a second passes before Evan’s opening guitar riff sends the crowd roaring. It was the opening to, ‘Thunderstruck,’ a song that literally was in almost every modern day action movie known to man. It was hilarious to see the guys and Phoenix lose their shit, recognizing the iconic song. There was a black curtain keeping the actual stage hidden from everyone's view, but chills came onto everyone’s arms when Y/n’s voice filled their ears

“I was caught in the middle of a railroad track.” The crowd echoed the ‘Thunder,’ with the band. “I looked ‘round and I knew there was no turning back.”

“THUNDER!” The squad shouted, fist pumping and beginning to dance. Already they knew it was going to be the best night of their lives.

When the curtain gave way as Y/n hit the chorus of the song, the audience literally exploded, increasing in volume when she shouted into the mic, “Los Angeles let me hear you!!!!” The camera’s were glued to her as she strutted down the middle of the stage where it split the floor. Her voice carried with each lyric, living up to the hype and sounding as though it was still 1985.

Nat—scratch that all of the guys, especially Maverick, were in awe. Jaws dropped, except Rooster who was living his best life having experienced a Y/n & the Romantics show as a teenager. Now as an adult man the aviator was overjoyed seeing his second mom performing on stage again with her best friends.

“Cap, your wife is the coolest person on earth!” Hangman shouted against the loud music. Maverick simply beamed, eyes never leaving his wife, “I know.”

When the song came to an end, Y/n sighed lovingly, “Ahhh it’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all dearly. Did you miss us?” She paused, screams igniting before adding, “That’s what I’m talking about, baby. It’s been twenty years since we last performed here at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, and we’d like to thank you all immensely for welcoming us back. We’ve worked hard the past two years putting this show together for you, the fans. For all of you regardless if you’re just discovering us, or have been rockin since 1979.”

The energy was off the charts the entire concert. Y/n was feeding off of it on stage, and in turn her presence was feeding the crowd. In between sets she interacted with her friends/bandmates, often coming close to those on the floor to ask how they were.

“You having fun tonight?” Everyone nodded frantically, a woman close to the stage shouting, “So much fun! We love you!”

“We love you too, doll. Don’t worry the night is just getting started.” After the first couple songs Y/n informs the crowd, “I hope you all don’t mind, but as you know this is the ‘Rockin’ Down Memory Lane’ tour,” cheers erupted from every angle, “so as a treat for you fine folks this evening, we won’t just be rockin down our own memory lane. We wanna give some shoutouts to some of the greats rock music has ever seen, and some of the friends we made being a part of this world thanks to all of you. And what better way to start than by kicking it off with the song that got us discovered in the first place.”

The audience was going crazy, die hard fans knowing damn well what song the rockstar was referring to. “Whoooo!!!” Coyote felt the chills when Y/n belted out the opening of ‘Cry Baby’ by Janis Joplin. “Damn girl, sing it!” One of the hardest songs to sing, Y/n had so much emotion it nearly brought a tear to some of their eyes. Rooster brought his finger to his mouth to whistle when the song finished.

The band would do three more of their songs or a medley before covering another artist/group. “Y’all may have heard the rumor…..of the special club we’re being invited to join this fall,” Y/n smirked, hand on her hip next to Maya. Cheering indicated the crowd were aware of the news. “We’re not the only ones. Some friends of ours were also invited. You may have heard of them….Duran Duran?” She pauses to let them scream, the woman chuckling before bringing the mic back to her lips. “They just played recently at the Garden and gave a special rendition of our ‘Highway To Hell,’….so we thought to return the favor,” pausing again, Y/n nods to her band where they begin their cover of ‘Hungry Like The Wolf,’ sending the audience into a frenzy.

“I fucking love this song!!” Nat screams excitedly, passing her beer to Rooster so she could freely dance without worrying about spilling it. The outfit she wore likely cost more than her college tuition. She’d be damned if she let anything happen to it.

“Darken the city, night is a wire,” The smile never left Y/n’s face, “Steam in the subway, earth is afire.” Chills happened along her arms when the entire stadium echoed, “do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

She couldn’t wait to see how the guys of Duran Duran, who she and the Romantics were lucky to call friends, react to them singing their song. On Twitter she hinted at wanting to do another collaboration after seeing the video of the band perform their ‘Highway To Hell’. In 1988 the two groups released a single together, topping the Billboard charts for nearly 30 weeks. Plus both were being inducted in November to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. Surely it would the collab of the century if they did.

Halfway through the show they took an intermission. During that time everyone had a bathroom break, ate some of the food provided and grabbed more drinks. Thankfully Mav did inform them Y/n’s managers got them hotel rooms not too far from the venue so they didn’t have to worry about driving back to San Diego late. When the band returned on stage for the second half of the show it appeared they had changed outfits. Y/n now sported black leather shorts that ended midthigh with fishnets tucked into her leather knee-high boots and a cropped Def Leppard shirt. The sides were cut out showing off her lace bodysuit beneath it. They went straight into songs from their ‘Love & Thunder’ era that took place in the early 90s.

Not too long after she was flagged down by the stage manager, Rick, who was in front of the floor barricade. “What do we have here?” She hummed curiously, taking the two evelopes from him. Rick shouted that it was from the couple directly behind him, who were waving frantically at the singer. The envelop on top said ‘read first.’ Confirming she could read it aloud, Y/n brought the audience to a low tone so everyone could hear.

“Dear Y/n, Maya, Evan, Ronnie, and Danny,” she read off into the mic, glancing to her friends who appeared just as curious as her. “Our names are Damien and Alana Michaels, we’re both 31 years old and met six years ago because of our shared love for your music,” Y/n awed, beaming at the couple then laughed when the letter followed, “We met at a record store and practically fought over the last copy of your limited edition vinyl of ‘Rock n Rollin to Heaven’. We were over the moon when you announced the reunion tour and feel we’ve come full circle tonight seeing as that we fell in love because your music has been an influencial part of our lives. Alana is five months pregnant with our first child,” cheering erupted, causing Y/n to speak louder into the microphone with a giant grin, “Would you do us the honor in revealing the gender of our baby?”

Y/n let the crowd scream for a moment before calming them down again, settling her gaze on the couple, “This envelope right here,” she holds up the unopened document, “has the gender of your baby?”

“Yes!” Alana shouts in glee while Damien nods, mirroring his wife’s expression.

“Give me one moment, honey—don’t go anywhere.” The stadium watches the rockstar rush to her friends, calling them over away from the mics to have a quick chat. Opening the envelope, the camera catches their reaction for the screen and they all talk for a moment before taking back their respective places.Y/n runs over to the couple again, a little out of breath, “Alright! Alana, Damien, congratulations are in store. You are bringing a new life into the world, and the Romantics and I think the best way for you to welcome them is by singing this song when they arrive,” she then looks to the crows, “To anyone who knows the words, feel free to sing along. On three guys,” she points to her friends and counts off, “One…two…three!”

“Isn’t she lovely?” Alana visibly broke into tears while Damien jumps up and down in joy. The band where harmonizing with the frontwoman, the stadium so loud it was hard to hear at times, but thankfully the speakers were at full amp to hear them sing. The couple embraced each other, consumed with happiness at the news. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

“Isn’t she precious?” Staples Center practically echoed with 20,000 people singing Stevie Wonder’s song. Y/n grinned, loving ever second of the coordinated tune. “Less than one minute old.”

“I never thought,” Y/n belted out, “through love we’d be.”

“Making one as lovely as she.”

“But isn’t she lovely, made from love,” Drawing out the ‘love’ Y/n finished the verse by shouting against the screams, “IT’S A GIRL!” Handing back the envelope with the gender to Rick, Y/n asked if she could keep the letter to which the couple agreed. Pocketing it in her shorts, Y/n says, “Congratulations Alana and Damien! Thank you for allowing us to be a part of this exiting moment. On behalf of the Romantics and everyone in attendance, we wish you the absolute best on bringing your daughter into the world and may she be blessed with joy all her life….and maybe unleash her inner rockstar from time to time,” laughter erupted, “give it up for Alana, Damien, and Baby girl Michaels!!”

Fifteen more minutes pass of the band performing their songs before taking a five minute break to set up for their next cover.

“Alright,” Y/n takes a breath, walking down the end of the extended stage. “This next trip down memory lane, has me want to ask you all a question. Ready to hear it?” When they respond with an echo, ‘yes!!’ Y/n allows the smirk to appear, “Do you guys have that one song…that you would call, your stripper song?” A laugh escapes her by the increase in volume from the sold out arena. She could just picture what looks her husband received from his former students. “You know that one song that has you thinking, ‘Gosh give me a pole and I will work it better than anyone has before,’ that kind of song?” Y/n stops halfway through the long stretch of platform, glancing around to the various sections of people.

“I would like to sing for you my stripper song—o-oh okaaaay that’s a nice reaction,” she chuckled, winking at a few spectators on the floor who were like, ‘Hell yeah!’ Pointing a finger out to a random direction, she says with a knowing look, “Now if this happens to be your stripper song too, don’t you get naked—this ain’t that kind of show,” laughter fills her ears, “Plus there's children here tonight, so technically this is a family show. So I would like to apologize now to the parents, but then again, this is a fucking rock show,” the cheers escalated, agreeing with the woman on what she was about to say, “So if you didn’t want them to see us in our element, you should’ve left them at home. But please, for the love of God, keep your clothes on if this song happens to get you in the same mood it gets me. Ready guys!”

“We're ready, babe!” Maya shouts with Evan, Danny and Ronnie giving a thumbs up.

“Step inside!” Y/n yells into the mic.

“Walk this way!” They shout into their own.

“You and me babe!”

“Hey! Hey!”

unworldly, was the way best to describe the Staples Center when the opening chords of Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me,’ sounded through the speakers. No wonder she wore the band’s shirt, hinting they were going to cover one of their songs at some point. Fans went crazy when Y/n did some of her iconic moves like crawling on the floor, flipping her hair back and forth and even usuing the mic stand as though it was a pole. She was in her element, the stage was truly where she shined.

Some of the guys were hollaring, patting Maverick on the back with knowing looks. The older man was blushing mad when they realized something was on his mind with the way he was staring at his wife. It didn’t help Y/n was biting her lip, running her hands along her body during the ‘Sugar me sweet,’ line. The camera was glued to her the entire performance.

“I know that look!” Hangman pointed out the Captain’s expression.

“Yeah, Mav, if you plan to sneak off to the dressing room after the show, don’t worry we won’t say anything.”

The band went straight into ‘Hollywood Nights,’ by Bob Seger as way to pay homage to the fact they were performing in Los Angeles, Hollywood not too far away. Jake was a big fan of the song and Rooster videoed the pilot dancing his heart out, spinning Nat around at times as they belted the lyrics.

Coming down to the final 30 minutes of the show, Y/n called the crowds attention, “This next song….is dedicated to someone very special in the audience. He’s turning 60 tomorrow and I’m celebrating twenty years of marriage with him in October.” Her smile became wider at the cheers, walking to the side of the stage closest to where Pete and the gang were.

“That’s you, my man!” Rooster playfully shakes Mav, the squad cheering when the camera pans to him. Giving a little wave, Pete blows a kiss to Y/n, who pretends to catch it.

“Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell everyone,” she pauses lightly, “With him tonight is someone who is practically our son—Lord knows I treat him like one,” Rooster does a little dance, the camera zooming out from Mav to capture the aviator next to him. “And some of his former students, the Navy’s finest fighter pilots, who I like to call his, ‘Dagger ducklings.’” The squad awed at the nickname, Fanboy and Coyote hugging up on the man.

“Does this mean you’re our papa duck, Mav?”

“Imma let y’all in on a little secret,” Y/n leans into the mic with a whisper, “That whole thing about us breaking up in the 90s? Yeah, it didn’t happen.” Laughing, Y/n stands back straight, “Right now I’m feeling a little sentimental. Pete and I actually met at a bar about two blocks away after we played here in 1989. It was there he….to put it lightly, swooned me like nobody had ever done before.” Dropping his head onto the railing, Pete’s shoulders shook as he laughed, the memory of that night replaying in his mind. “Maya knows what I’m talking about.”

“Sure do,” the bassist replied. “I think he put on better show than we did.”

“Oh God,” Maverick put a hand to his mouth to cover his grin. So many emotions were flooding him. Mostly warmth, but a tad of embarrassment.

If only Ice and Goose were here to see this.

“He sure did. And tonight I wanna take him and I down memory lane. So ladies and gentlemen, this is for anyone who’s lost that lovin’ feeling.”

Words couldn’t describe what Pete felt listening to Y/n sing, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling.’ Maya and Ronnie provided the back up vocals, harmonizing with Y/n during the chorus. The entire time she sang Y/n was swaying and keeping her body faced to the section Pete was at. The two connected eyes at times, lost in each other’s gaze causing the two to feel the love radiate one another.

She sounded so beautiful. Of course it was well known Y/n was very versatile with her music and voice. She could take it high and low, mellowing out for a slow tune. There was a lot of soul in her and the band, which is not surprising since they starting in Atlanta. They grew up on blues, jazz, and classic rock. Inspired by the greats like Billie Holiday, B.B King, Janis Joplin, Elvis, Little Richard, and the Mama’s & Papas.

Pete cheered the loudest in their group when the song came to end, whistling along with Rooster. Y/n blew him a kiss, “Never lose that lovin’ feeling with me, honey.”

Not too long after it came time for the final number. “Imma need ‘Dirty Diana’ for this one,” Y/n announced, moving to the middle of the stage where the mic stand was. A crew member appeared from the side, handing over a neon green Fender Stratocaster. She pulled the strap over her shoulder, “Los Angeles, as we come to tonight’s closing I want you to know you all have, without a doubt, been the best crowd ever. L.A, you know how to bring the energy and we can’t thank you enough for what a blast it’s been playing for you all. What a way to end our tour—can’t believe it’s already over, but fear not…we’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Evan, Maya, Ronnie, and Danny all say a few words, then they all thank their managers, crew, friends, and family for allowing them to put on a great show. Lastly they thank the fans in an tearfelt speach, finishing it off telling everyone to have a safe journey back home and to keep rockin n rolling. Y/n closes it out with, “Los Angeles sing this last one with us. It’s been a long way to the top,” the screams got louder, “but worth every damn second.”

Staples Center erupted, Y/n letting her hands work magic on the guitar as she played the opening riff of ‘It’s A Long Way To The To (If You Wanna Rock ‘N’ Roll) .’ Then Evan came in his riffs followed by Danny’s drums. Maya and Y/n banged their head together, leaning toward one as they feed off each other’s energy.

“Oh shit!” Payback whistled, shaking his shoulder along to the beat. This was a song he used to dance to in college with his buddies. It brought back memories for the pilot, nostalgia filling him just like it was to many in the crowd.

“Ridin’ down the highway. Goin’ to a show. Stop in all the byways. Playin’ rock ‘n’ roll.”

“Gettin’ robber, gettin’ stoned, gettin’ beat up. Broken-boned. Gettin’ had, gettin’ took. I’ll tell you, folks, it’s harder than it looks.”

Pretty much everyone shouted the lyrics in the chorus, one of the most recognizable ones in music history.

“It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll!”

It went crazy during Y/n’s solo that had all the pilot’s, minus Mav & Rooster, jaws drop. The entire show she hadn’t played the guitar much save for maybe two songs, but it was not to the absolute greatness she was displaying now. Evan guitar solos were off the chain, as were Danny’s drums. Then they had Ronnie tearing it up on the keys with Maya crowning herself the queen of the bass. The voice of the band, Y/n showed she was as talented with the instrument as she was putting lyrics to paper and belting them out for her heart’s desire.

They truly were one of the greatest rock bands to exist.

Even after the song ended they were going hard on the instruments, finishing the show with a literally bang. Lights were flashing, every single person on their feet, Danny and Evan hitting one last solo and instilling the moment as one for the history books.

“Thank you, Los Angeles!! We’ll see you next time! Good night and keep on rockin’!!”

11:58 pm, two blocks away at Melvin’s Planet Enterprise Bar

“Feels like deja vu,” Y/n laughed, dancing with Pete to the tune of ‘When Doves Cry’ in the familiar bar. Though it had a new name and owner, it still gave the same effect as it did in 1989. This time, however, there were posters of Y/n & the Romantics, one of which was signed and framed just above the jukebox playing classic hits and even some of theirs.

Y/n had changed out of her clothes again, wearing black jeans and tank top with a blue leather jacket that had studs and chains attached to the sides. Her makeup had been touched up, hair pulled in a ponytail. It was almost comical how the scene was just like that night in ‘89 with blue strobe lights shining down on them, making her look illuminated.

The dagger squad were in their own little world, dancing and drinking with each other and the band’s crew members. Jake was getting along quite well with someone from Y/n’s glam team, Nat chatting with a member of the security. Then there was Coyote dancing with the oldest daughter of Maya and Evan. They had rented out the place after the show, everyone hauling ass to celebrate the end of the tour. All grown up, the children of the Romantics could enjoy the night as well, not having to worry about being underage now that the youngest of the bunch had turned 21 the previous month.

When they arrived the party was in full blast, Rooster pulling Y/n to the dance floor to share a dance. Then they duetted ‘Great Balls of Fire,’ with him on the piano. Everyone sang at the top of their lungs. Pete held Y/n, head banging with her at the ‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’ bit and sneaking kisses during, ‘kiss me, baby!’

When her feet started to hurt from standing, Y/n sat in Pete’s lap and nursed a cocktail while they chatted with Hondo and Ronnie’s wife. Over in a corner Bob was on the phone with his family after his sister saw Phoenix’s instagram story, “You saw Y/n & the Romantics tonight!?! How the hell did you manage to get tickets—they were sold out!”

“Uhh….you remember my instructor from that mission awhile back? Turns out he’s marrried to Y/n L/n.”

“WHAT!?! Pete Mitchell was your instructor!?” Bob swore his mother about went into cardiac arrest, screaming when Y/n appeared on screeen after he politely asked if she would mind saying hello to his mother. The rockstar of course said yes, she loved interacting and meeting supporters. They were the reason she got to live her dream. Bob nearly cried seeing his mother in tears, overcome with emotion at the fact she was meeting her favorite singer of all time. After the call ended Y/n gave the WSO a tour program she had all the members sign, “give this to your momma for me. Tell her I hope to see her on the next tour.”

The dagger squad were literally becoming Y/n’s adoptive children by the second. Mickey couldn’t believe he got her to do a tiktok with him, then she had a shot of tequila with Reuben. As Nat danced the woman hyped her up with Maya and she had a semi dance off with Javy. Throughout the night stories were told about meeting Princess Diana in 1995, playing in New York on New Year’s Eve of 1999, the Super Bowl, and their iconic performance at the first MTV video music awards in 1984. They were like children gathered by the Christmas tree listening to her read a book. All they could think was how cool she was and the fact the band had truly changed the world of music over their spand of 40 years.

Prince’s iconic ‘When Doves Cry’ started to play just before midnight and it was like slow motion for the rockstar, moving to her husband who was already staring at her with the same expression. Now they really were back in 1989.

“It does,” Mav beamed at his wife, the song hitting it’s second verse. “Only thing missing are the cameras flashing, Ice and Slider sending me a thumbs up, and jealous looks from patrons.” His words make her giggle, throwing her head back slightly.

“Ice is definitely giving you a thumbs up with Goose,” her voice turns soft, stroking the side of his neck, “Bradley’s got his phone out. No doubt videoing us as I speak. He knows how significant this song is.”

“Remind me to have him send me it,” he tells her, dipping her suddenly causing her to squeal. Lips press to her cheek when he pulls her back up.

“Wanna know something though, hot stuff?”

“What?”

The light hitting her eyes shows off the mischief matching her smirk, “This time ‘round, you won’t just be getting a kiss goodnight. You actually get to take me home.” Thank god the lighting hid the color of his face, otherwise she would get a good look at how red it was.

It didn’t stop her from seeing the smile however, Mav shaking his head playfully. He didn’t have to reply for her to know what he was thinking. Just his laugh was enough.

As the clock stuck midnight, Y/n brought him into a sweet kiss, “Happy Birthday, Pete. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Thank you.”

The rest of the night was filled with celebration, not just for the epic end of the tour and impending induction as Rock ‘N’ Roll hall of famers, but also the life of the Navy’s most famous pilot. Until it came time to leave, not a single minute was wasted in having the best night of their lives.

All of which happened because two souls decided to go to the same bar after a concert. One a spectator, the other the performer. Both who made names of themselves in their own right, embedding their legacy forever for generations to come. It took a hell of a time to do it, but as one knows….it’s a long way to the top you wanna rock ‘n’ roll.

……………………

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry

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minhosimthings · 7 months

Text

For Love to Exist: A Hyunjin Fic

Synopsis: In which Aphrodite makes a plan for two loveless souls.

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Fem!reader, includes rest of Skz (side characters)

Word count: don't know but it's really long

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slow burn, mentions of self harm, and mental abuse, reader is an orphan, mentions of food and drink. She/her pronouns used, reader has scars on her skin

A/N: this is sort of a self indulgent fic for me and it is dedicated to all the people in my life who have made me feel like I am worthy of love again. This is based off of my own experiences due to my abusive past and how I let those go with the help of the people I've met here in university. I based Y/N off of myself (I hope you don't mind) because I feel like Hyunjin would be the type of person to love s person, regardless of their past, and ignorant of their future (and also I'm too delulu for Hyun rn). I dedicate this fic to all the people around the world, who feel that they do not deserve a red heart, and an I love you everyday. I dedicate this fic to the little girl inside of me, who still thinks that she is unworthy of love.

For love to exist, souls should exist too. For love to breathe, souls should take a deep breath too. For love to live, souls should learn how to live too. But for you, souls simply did not exist. They were just imaginary things made up by boring adults to tell children why they married their partners, to mask whatever what going on in reality. Why would anyone believe in souls and hearts and bonds and all that bullshit? Kids, of course, believed it.

You, on the other hand, were taught by cold eyes, ever since forever. Cold eyes had taught you that warm ones always lied and that love was just a fairytale made up to increase the population of earth. Cold eyes told you that June wasn't about pretty flowers and sundresses. They taught you it was about the burning sun and the heatwaves. Cold eyes taught you that flowers were nothing more than biological creations of two genetically unique organisms. Cold eyes taught you that the world was just the Earth, just a globe and that the universe didn't care for a tiny speck like you.

Work, Eat, and sleep. Those were the only things you did with passion. Those were the only things in your life that you noticed and yearned for. It was painful to watch your coworkers at the company, who were below you, enjoy life so much. As chief editor, you had less work than they did, yet they saw life as a chance. They saw life as a chance to enjoy the fruits of the universe, while you still saw life as a scarred being. Funny, how you thought that everyone else was mad to have love in their lives, yet there you were with scars on your chest, both physical and mental, going unnoticed by the minute.

Until Hyunjin came into your life.

Hwang Hyunjin. Step son of your goddamned boss. You were told that he would be working alongside you as both an assistant editor and as a new cartoonist, replacing Mr Park, who had resigned five days ago. You groaned at the idea of having someone follow you all day, asking you if you needed anything. You were better off without an assistant or a cartoonist. But your magazine wasn't the leading magazine in South Korea for no reason. The illustrations provided alongside the thigh slapping articles always provided the greatest entertainment to the millions of readers. Mr Park was an old man, who was always quiet and mostly kept to his drawings, exactly your preference. Someone who doesn't annoy you or ask about your love life because apparently, at 23, a woman has nothing better to do. But a man, your age, who you've heard used to be a singer in a band, yeah that wasn't going to work with you.

Your boss had introduced you guys on his first day. He was.... surprisingly handsome. His eyes were like a kitten's, small and glittery, as if Andromeda had poured all her stars into them. His nose and jawline were so sharp, in total contrast to his gaze, soft and pinkish. You wondered why all those thoughts were coming into your head. Never before had they had even touched your mind, when you saw other men and women around you, no matter how pretty they were.

He worked in silence. Complete silence. He wouldn't even move his chair or anything. The desk on which he worked was so pristine and organized, very much like yours, exactly like yours. But there was an aura with which he worked on piece of paper with a black ink pot that you could only dream of having. It was like the sky favoured him, sunlight illuminating all of his features, including some tiny moles on his face. You couldn't help but admire his serious face, headphones in, with an ink stained brush moving swiftly across paper, tracing the tiny dots and lines of whatever he was making. You had first approached the company as a cartoonist yourself, having the skills because of an art minor. But soon the director saw you better as a journalist and slowly but surely you moved your way up the ladder to become chief editor. And when you saw other people doing something you used to love doing, you wondered if you hadn't accepted the job as an editor, would your life have been so mundane? So brown and still?

"Um Miss Y/N?" A voice broke you out of your stupor, starting you and getting your mind away from the articles on your computer screen. Hyunjin was standing next to you, holding pieces of paper in one hand and his brush in the other. He had a dab of ink sprawled across his nose. Cute, you thought.

"I, uh, finished the illustration for the first article you sent. Are they ok?" He gave you five pieces of paper, all with funny intonations on them, a cookie wearing hat, and an iguana wearing a DJ's glasses. It was cute, really cute you thought, as you gave them back to him, nodding in approval and shooting him a small smile. "You have ink on your nose, did you know that?" You pointed out to him, handing him a tissue from your tissue box, which he took and immediately disappeared behind his computer, wiping his nose aggressively. Cute, so cute.

You usually left work at eight thirty, not too late and not too early that you'd miss your tea. But something made you want to stay back today. Someone, specifically. Hyunjin told you that he usually went home by ten, since he didn't do much during the night. You refrained from telling him when you went, lest he question why you stayed back today.

"Miss Y/N I'll be heading out now. Good night." He held up his olive green bag and waved goodbye to you. Something inside of you wanted to say 'Wanna go together?' but you had always ignored that something so you instead waved back to him and started picking up your things.

That day, the old grandmother at the ramen shop you always went to said something was different about you and told you to smile more. You didn't know whether or not that was a complement but you took it willingly along with spicy ramen with beef.

"Miss Y/N I-" "Hyunjin stop call me Miss. Im your age. Just call me Y/N, alright?" You finally got that sentence out of your mouth after keeping it in for an entire week. An entire week Hyunjin addressed you with honorifics and today you wanted to tell him that just your name was enough. Just your name coming out of his mouth like a sweet melody was alright. "Oh well ok Y/N." He said with some difficulty, feeling awkward not using the proper words. "I wanted to say that lunch break began over two hours ago and you still haven't got up from your seat, so I uh bought you something. I asked your co workers what you usually eat so um yeah." He did what? You looked down at his extended hand, holding a box of your usual Ramyeon and an americano. You silently took the food from his hands, shooting him a quick 'thank you'. He deserved more than that, but at that moment, all your shocked brain could do was that.

Someone cared for you. Someone noticed that you weren't eating. Someone noticed how you stayed on this cold October day. And that was sort of sweet? Someone did that for you and for once it seemed he did not want anything in return. That couldn't be true, you thought as you silently ate your Ramyeon, all the while shooting tiny glances at Hyunjin, who was once again immersed in his drawings. Seeing him so deeply imbued in an art, which provided him a job, was so endearing to look at. He was doing something he enjoyed, while earning money for it. Isn't that what everyone in the world would love?

"Um Hyunjin? Hyunjin." You snapped your fingers in front of Hyunjin, who had his headphones on, with that brush back in his hand. He looked so cute, being broken out of his hypnotised state. His eyes blinked at you for a few seconds, before he took the headphones off and greeted you. "What is it Mi- I mean Y/N?" God he was so handsome. He was in a loose baby blue sweater and white pants today. He looked so dainty and fragile as if you touch him and he'll break. "I uh wanted to thank you again for the food today. Um. Any way I can thank you for it? Maybe buy you a coffee?" You could feel your cheeks getting redder by the moment. Even if he couldn't see the blush, you could definetly feel them. If your guardian angels were watching you right now, they'd be saying 'Y/N get your ass up and stop blushing so much.'. "Oh. Um uh" Hyunjin stuttered for a bit before checking his watch. Nine thirty am. There was still half an hour left to go home, meaning you both had enough time to grab a coffee and perhaps a bagel or something tasty.

"Oh course Y/N. But please do not pay for my food. You need not repay me for lunch." Your pleas for that sentence went unheard, as Hyunjin kept saying that he didn't want anyone to pay for him, reasoning that lunch was a basic human need and he was just helping his co worker out. Something about the way he defended himself and explained things was so adorable. It was like a ferret explaining why it's fur is white and why it's ears are so round.

"This is surprisingly good." You commented, as Hyunjin and you sat by the little round table in the coffee shop, drinking Americans and eating Macarons. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you are your pistachio Macaron. "You never had a Macaron before in your life?" You shook your head at his question, trying to swallow your bite of the Macaron quickly, so as to answer his question. "No actually." You managed to cough out after what seemed like five hours of you chewing the sweet dessert. "I don't have a preference for sweet things. I used to but I grew out of it." Hyunjin looked up at you, from staring at his shoes. "You used to? Well I always used to believe that a sweet tooth could never grow out of their preferences. Turns out I was wrong then." The corners of your mouth twitched as your heart itched not to say 'why are you so perfect?' to the man sitting in front of you. "So what musicians do you listen to?" It was now your turn to look up at him with wide eyes. It was funny how both of you were eating food together like two normal human beings, yet neither of you dared to look at each other, or maintain direct eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. "Pardon?" You asked him, eyebrow raised and foot tapping on the floor. He stumbled back a bit and said, in a apologetic tone, "Oh I didn't mean to impose. Im sorry. I just thought, you know we see each other every single day, and I have never gotten to know what my coworker likes a dislikes so um.. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Seeing him apologize like that was like seeing a puppy apologize to a black cat. You probably looked scary right now, with your expression and your rigid figure, so it made sense for Hyunjin to react like that.

"Oh it's alright Hyunjin." You said, shooting him the tiniest smile ever. "People don't really ask me questions about myself that often so I was kind of taken aback." Hyunjin just nodded and hummed in response to your bland statement.

That night, when you went home, you thought to yourself, about how much you missed human interaction. Most often disassociation and loneliness were your favourite drugs, but Hyunjin asking you a simple question about your favourite singer, made those drugs seem pleasure less. Your therapist would have probably looked you up and down and immediately told you that you were in love, being the hopeless romantic he was. People were scared to approach you. You, with your head held high in the air, your gait threatening that of Hera's, and your expression, cool and wicked. But Hyunjin just casually asked you what musicians you listen to, as if he had known you for years and he was meeting up with you again, at a school reunion. It was shocking to you, how he could just say that, without stuttering. Yes he did stutter later on, but it was so adorable the way he apologized to you, hands nervously palming at his fingers and nose silently twitching. Maybe friends weren't so bad after all, you thought, as the stars looked at you in pity, talking amongst themselves, about where had God gone wrong with you.

A sticky note? Your boss never left sticky boss for you. Usually his assistant to deliver you messages. So who wrote this mysterious pink sticky note, stuck to your computer with a smiley and something written on it? You had arrived at work after Hyunjin today, who, once again was is a hypnotic state, lightly bobbing his head to whatever was playing inside of those blue headphones. You slightly suspected that the note was probably his, as you sat down on your chair, hanging your bag in the usual place beside your table. You pulled off the note from the computer and examined it closely. There was something written on it with a glittery purple pen.

I scared you yesterday with my question. So I'm going to ask you through a note. What musicians do you listen to? (PS you can answer through a sticky note too)

You noticed Hyunjin kept giving you small glances from time to time, only taking his eyes away from his art for a fraction of a second. Cute, you thought, really cute. This was by far the cutest thing he had done. You silently took up a glittery blue pen from your drawer and wrote some sentences on a different sticky note, knowing when you were going to stick it.

"Hyunjin could you do me a favour?" You tapped on his desk to alert him. He looked up at you once again, with those same doe eyes. You noticed the ink once again splattered on his nose. "Yeah?" "Could you take this up to Mr Kim once and ask him if this is how he wanted the article to be edited?" You handed him a blue file to take it upto your boss, which is silently took and went up to the boss's office, giving you enough time to stick the note onto his computer. You made a last minute addition to the note, before rushing off to the canteen, lest Hyunjin catches you in your mischievous act. Even though it was just sticking a note to your co worker's computer this felt like the most amazing thing you had ever done in your life, the most daring.

Where had you gone? Hyunjin had come back to his desk after handing off the file to the boss, who said he'd give it back tomorrow, only to find you nowhere to be found. He swore that he had saw you here just a second ago. Where had you gone now? Shrugging his shoulders and telling himself that you had probably taken a bathroom break, he sat back down on his desk, ready to complete the illustrations for the day, that you had given him yesterday, when he noticed something stuck to his computer. A green sticky note. Could it be? Did you respond to his very creepy, weirdo nerd way of asking you a question in order to get to know you better?

When Hyunjin sat down on his chair, and slowly pulled the sticky note out, he sweated that his heart had skipped a hundred beats (or 143 beats hehe). Your loopy handwriting was scrambled on it with sparkly blue ink.

This is very middle school of us to be passing notes in work but I like listening to Lana del Rey, Florence and The Machines, a bit of k-pop and lot of classical music. Now you answer my question along with your own question. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? (PS you have ink on your nose)

Hyunjin's soul was doing backflips in his stomach. Having an obsession for love, he wondered whether this was how Cupid felt like when he shot his first arrow. You listened to the same artist he did. He absent-mindedly wondered about what question to ask you next when you came out from the canteen, carrying lunch for the both of you. "Oh hey Hyunjin." You said in what you hoped wasn't an over active tone. "I uh got you lunch to pay back for when you got me lunch and um here you go." You awkwardly handed him the cup of spicy tteokbokki along with some other dishes and an Americano. As if returning the awkwardness, he mumbled a sheepish 'thank you', grabbed the food and hid behind his desk. Somewhere in the clouds Aphrodite was sighing, not knowing what to do with you two.

After a few hours, when you had gotten up to go the boss's office, Hyunjin saw his golden chance and took it. He scribbled his question onto a pink sticky note and quickly stuck it to your desk, frantically sitting back on his chair and pretending to be focusing on his cartoon which had long been completed.

Happiness. Happiness was all you and Hyunjin felt that night, when both of you parted ways. It was that happiness which a fourteen year old gets when their crush pays attention to them. It was mischievous happiness, as both you went home and pondered about questions and answers. Middle school romance was something neither of you had, with him not finding the correct person, who would love him for who he is, and you just not wanting love anymore. Aphrodite would be probably be smiling right now, twirling her roses and she makes the next part of her plan.

"Hyunjin! Over here!" It was raining very heavily today and you had chosen this very day to not take your car. Apparently Hyunjin had done the same thing, as both of you saw other close to the cafe a distance from your work. He didn't have an umbrella and you had spotted him running over in the direction of your work, blue hoodie gripped tightly over his head. "Did the universe have to choose the day I didn't get my car to rain?" He shouted at you as you both were shielded by your umbrella. "I was thinking the same thing!" You shouted back at him. "Let's get inside the cafe!"

The cafe thankfully wasn't crowded at all, and as you took off your coat and shoes to dry, you appreciated the heat coming from inside the cafe. It was on the more traditional side, with a wooden interior and sepia toned plants hidden in mud pots.

"Oh great." Hyunjin sighed. He was holding his phone is his hands, having taken off his hoodie and his shoes before you did and setting his bag down at a table for two. "Boss just texted. Work's cancelled for three days straight." "So we went through all that rain for nothing?" You deflated on the comfy chair, opposite Hyunjin, who was revealed to be wearing a dark blue shirt underneath his baby blue hoodie. "Well damn it. What do we do now? I didn't bring my car and neither did you. Do we have to wait out the storm here?" You asked him, wiping your face with a handkerchief. "Well we can." Hyunjin responded. "I think the owner will probably let us." You raised a brow at him at that statement while he just stared into space, as if expecting an alien to show up any moment. "How do you know the own-" "HWANG HYUNJIN YOU FINALLY DRAG YOUR ASS HERE TO SEE ME."

A very loud voice rang through the cafe, accompanied by a much quieter 'Hyunjin's here?'. Hyunjin groaned and buried his face in his hands, as a handsome man with olive skin, brown hair, and the prettiest nose ever, came striding up to your table, wearing the uniform of the cafe. He promptly pulled up a chair and collapsed onto it, next to Hyunjin, all the while playfully glaring at him. "Hey Minho hyung." Hyunjin mumbled, not looking directly at whoever this Minho was. The other man clicked his tongue out of disapproval and said, "Say that louder would ya? And why have you not been coming to visit me and emotional dump on me for like two weeks? Oh and who's this lovely young lady?" He looked into your eyes at that last bit, startling you a bit, at how round and black his eyes were, like tiny little boba balls. "I'm Y/N." You extended a hand forward. "L/N Y/N" Minho took your hand and shook it with a firm grip, before getting up and slightly bowing to you. "Well Miss Y/N, may I get you anything? Perhaps something which is not an Americano, which is what this monster" he motioned to Hyunjin "drinks?" You gave him a calculator look before saying, "Oh. Um I would like an americano actually and probably one for Hyunjin too please." Minho looked ever so slightly taken aback by your words. "As you wish!" He declared before giving Hyunjin and a smirk and leaving.

"So who was that?" You asked Hyunjin, whose ears were burning red. With a sigh, he put his elbows on the table, burrying his head in them.

"That was Lee Minho. A college mate of mine, who opened a cafe with a friend of his, soon after graduation, because apparently he didn't want to get into a boring job." He chuckled slightly at that. "He's a mentor to me. He's like I think two years older than me and he treats me like a damn baby. But it's fine cause I'm the one who helped him cheat on his exams so I get free shit here."

"Americano for two?" Oh hey Hyunjin!" A freckled boy had come up to your table, americano filled cups in his hand. His skin was porcelain, like glass, dotted with star like freckles, with blonde hair framing his beautiful face. "Hey Lix." Hyunjin patted the boy's back, as he set the coffee down on the table. "How's your mum now? Is the treatment working?" A smile never seemed to leave this boy's face, as he sat down in the chair which Minho had pulled up earlier. "She's good now. Much better! I've been sending her some brownies every now and then but she's still disappointed because apparently her son won't get a girlfriend." He slightly pouted as Hyunjin chuckled lightly. "Oh who's this? Wait are you-" the boy looked at you with excited eyes, before gasping and turning his head to Hyunjin. "Is this the Y/N you told me about?" He excitedly extended a hand towards you, which you took, experience pleasure at his soft grip and hands, which was in stark contrast to Minho's handshake. "I'm Felix! Lee Felix. Nice to meet you! Y/N right?" The amount of happiness radiating from this boy was so much that you thought he was probably the reincarnation of Helios himself. "Nice to meet you too Felix. I'd introduce myself, but judging from your excitement I believe Hyunjin's already told you about me." You gave him a smile, which he returned. "Yah Felix!" Minho's voice came from across the wooden walls. Felix groaned and got up from his chair saying goodbye to both of you and rushing off to Minho.

"They're really nice." You told Hyunjin, sipping on your americano. It was nice and weird to have people like you for who you are. It was kind of alien to you, to meet two people who knew about you. It was even more alien of Hyunjin to tell people about you. What could people tell about you? What fragments of your being attracted Hyunjin that he told his friends about your existence?

"Y/N are you ok?" Hyunjin's voice broke your mind from staring at the rain pouring outside. The storm had calmed down now and it was just lightly drizzling, drops staining the window, racing against each other. "Oh yes I'm good. Sorry."

"So you wanna talk about the notes or should we keep it a middle school secret?" Hyunjin's question rang across your brain, and as you sipped on your americano, you couldn't help but notice how innocent that question was. It was just a question. It wasn't an interrogative question, which you'd be punished for if you didn't answer. You fingers unconsciously went up to your wrists when you thought about that question. "What do you suggest? I'm alright with answering the question in person, instead of exchanging notes." You responded, keeping your tone casual, so as to not reveal the fast pace of your heart beat.

Hyunjin smiled at you and sipped on his americano again. "My favourite ice cream flavour is pistachio. And I also like listening to Lana del Rey and classical music. My turn now." He leaned forward slightly. "A song which you could listen to, for all eternity?" Musical questions were what you enjoyed the most, having being in love with music ever since your ears picked up the tune of twinkle twinkle little star. Hyunjin's question seemed hard, since your favourite song changed every few seconds and you couldn't just choose one melody to pleasure your ears for all of eternity. "Hmm" you responded after a while. "Probably Love by Lana Del Rey." "Why so?" Hyunjin asked.

"Because along with having an amazing tune and the greatest vocals ever," you started your lecture "It's also such a deep song. The way she is symbolising young love is so beautiful, from the way she alters her voice at certain lines to the lyrics themselves. I especially fell in love with the chorus because it signifies such a beautiful matter of being so much in love that even the tiniest actions can seem like elephantine gestures. Even that lyric 'The world is yours and you can't refuse it' it's so pretty. It's symbolising that feeling of ruling the world when you fall in love. Or atleast I think it does. I've never fell in love so."

You fell quiet after your rambling, hoping that it didn't freak him out how much you knew about one particular song, which you definetly did not write an entire essay about. L/n Y/n you've done it again. You've scared a person off because of your rambling about your hyperfixation because you have nothing else to love. Great job, you thought.

But as you looked over at Hyunjin's face, it was happy? His eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted as if thinking what to say, his americano straw remained in his mouth, but he wasn't sipping on it. He was in total awe, something you couldn't see.

"That- that was amazing." He said after a pregnant silence. "I never thought about songs that way honestly. But I think from now on I'll start thinking of it like that." God his smile was so handsome. The way the corners of his mouth stretched and the way his lips always slightly parted, it was all so pretty. And since when have you became so observant? To notice a man's manner of smiling?

Aphrodite smiled again in the clouds, calling for her chariot, to take a ride across the sky, making up the next step of her masterplan.

It was still pitter-pattering outside the window as both of you finished your drinks. You declined Minho's offer to eat, since you had already ate a lot for breakfast and you weren't feeling hungry. You tasted a bit of Felix's brownies, for which you complemented the freckled boy so mich to point where his glass skin turned into stained red glass.

"God the rain is stopping, how the hell are we going to get home?" Hyunjin sighed, as he meant back in his chair. You both had put your shoes, hoodie and coat back on and were staring out the window. You had an idea in your mind. A peculiar idea. An idea unlike you. An idea made by your heart controlled mind. You know how they say that we should never let our heart control our brain? Well sometimes, just sometimes, in the tiniest moments, we could let it control our being just a little bit.

"Doyouwanttocomeovertomyhouseitsreallycloseby" "I beg your pardon?" Oh great you spoke the easiest sentence in the fastest way you could possibly imagine. You should probably get the Nobel Prize for the most awkward person ever. Taking a deep breath, you made eye contact with Hyunjin (perhaps for the first time) and said, "Would you like to come over to my house? It's close by and I can drop you off at your house if I get my car." Hyunjin looked slightly taken aback by your suggestion, and as he pondered over it with a series of 'ohs' and 'ums', you mentally scolded yourself. How could you never say the right thing ever? How did you manage to say the wrong thing every single time? How did you manage to scare off every person every single time? Were you really not capable of love? Was your mother really right?

"If I don't impose Y/N, I would like to come over to your house. I should actually probably get going home too, so I accept your offer, only if it doesn't bother you." Your heart lifted from where it was earlier. Listening to the words coming out of Hyunjin's mouth in the soft tone, was something so comforting to you. It was like the smell of old books, like the way flowers moved in the wind, like the way wine swirled in a wine glass and like the way melodies danced to the beat of a song.

"This is your house?" You and Hyunjin had walked all the way to your house, shielded by his umbrella. It was safe to say that your house was a very luxurious one, in the more expensive side, courtesy to your high profile job. It was a two bedroom house, with the most beautiful terrace and balcony anyone had ever seen, which gave a view of the Seoul skyline. "It's beautiful." Hyunjin breathed out. "Come inside." You said, taking off your shoes at the entrance and unlocking the wooden door. "Want some food?" Hyunjin shook his head as both of you entered your house, his mouth dropping on seeing the interior. You had a conversation pit inside your house, much like one of those 80's sitcoms, and it was the most queer thing in your house. It was purple and magenta, with white finishings and a pretty carpet, sitting below a glass table. "It seems the interior is much prettier than the exterior." Hyunjin said, as you both entered the pit, sitting down. You sheepishly smiled and mumbled a thank you, before getting up to get him some water, even though you both had downed a big cup of americano.

"Your books are really interesting." You had started showing Hyunjin around your house, and when you reached the library portion, he wouldn't move from there. Granted, you did have a pretty library, decorated with fake moss and hanging vines, which made it look like a shelf growing out of the forest. "What is so interesting about them?" You asked him as he stroked the book covers with his fingers, to which he smiled and pointed to the last two books. "Their arrangment is fascinating first of all. I mean The Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice are sitting together, as if going for a tea party. Did you arrange them yourself?" You only nodded to his question, too scared to answer. "The second interesting thing about this bookshelf is that all the books are so dual to each other. You have Harry Potter-" he pointed to the topmost shelf, "then you have 1984-" his fingers went to a handsome leather book, "and then finally you have a pop up children'd book." He laughed pointing to the bottom most shelf, where a glittery pink book lie. You blushed, as you saw that book. It was the book, which your best friend at the orphanage had given to you, before she was taken away. You cherished it a lot, it being the only form of love you had ever recieved in your life. "Woah you have Taylor Caldwell too!" Hyunjin said, excitedly, his fingers bouncing on the shelf closest to him, where a series of faded books lie. "Do you want them perhaps?" You asked him, to which he gave you a sad smile. "I've always loved her since the age of eleven but I could never buy any of her books, courtesy to my mum thinking they're too 'westernised'." "You can take some if you want. I hardly ever read these ones." You pulled out some of the books and put them in his hands. He looked surprised and his eyes widened at you. After much trial and error, which included him refusing to take the books, and you threatening to leave him out in the rain if he didn't take them, he finally stuffed then into his bag, thanking you over and over again.

The car ride to his home was fun, to say the least. Hyunjin narrated some funny stories with Minho and Felix, and a few of his other friends. You were shocked to find out that he used to be in a band, where he played the drums. "You must play them for me one day." You said, as you pulled up to a light. "as payback for the books." Hyunjin gave you that sweet smile again, causing your brain to malfunction.

"Thank you for the ride home Y/N. And for the books." Hyunjin said as you both pulled up to his house. "Say I have a question." He said, before unbuckling his seatbelt (drive safely kids). "Would you ever be interested in spending your lunch break with me everyday? Cause I really like talking to you and I don't have many friends at work. Only if you want to though!" God he was so adorable with those round eyes and those cute cheeks. Was he actually so cute or was your hopeless brain just making it up?

Aphrodite sighed again as she watched you silently from the bushes, happy that you were going on the right path, but worried about the trajectory of your mind.

Spending time with Hyunjin were the best moments of your life. It was surprisingly fun to spend a part of your day everyday with Hyunjin. It was just lunch and americanos, fresh from Minho's cafe, since it was the only one you liked now. You warmed up to him more than you had wanted to, and for the first time, your brain didn't mind being ruled by your heart. Hyunjin had introduced you to some of his closest friend, who came to visit him at work, making sure he didn't overwork himself. And he had interesting friends. Apart from Minho and Felix, there was a producer group called 3Racha who wrote songs for a company called JYP. It was composed of the three most kindest people you had ever met. Jisung, Changbin and Chan treated you like their own sister, often picking up an Americano for you whenever they got one for Hyunjin. You met Hyunjin's youngest friends Seungmin and Jeongin at Minho's cafe, when Jeongin bumped into your shoulder, dropping his books and apologizing to you frantically. Both of them were University students, one having a pottery studio and the other studying computer science. They were mischievous little things, but you loved them too, with you sharing Seungmin's love for pottery and Jeongin's hatred for sugary foods. It was so fun, having friends, even if they weren't your friends from the beginning. This was the first time you had experienced happiness ever since you were eight.

The words on your books weren't skimmed over by your eyes anymore. Instead they were carefully taken in, word by word, appreciating how every letter formed the beautiful sentence. Now, winter wasn't about surviving anymore. Instead it was about being warm and cosy, all wrapped up in a big blanket, hugging a plushie and drinking hot chocolate as pretty winter flakes poured outside the window. Now you digged out the sundresses you haven't worn in so long, and you would wear them to work every now and then, catching the eyes of every person you passed (because you are the most beautiful person on earth LOVE YOURSELF I LOVE YOU). You never noticed it, but now, Hyunjin looked at you differently. He wasn't a very defensive person, choosing to end arguments quickly, but whenever his eyes set upon your figure dancing in a yellow sundress, embroidered with flowers, he swore that he would burn done the entire world for you. Both of you regularly met up at each other's house, having k drama nights, where you would do nothing but cry over the slow burn, and try out a new snack from the local convenience store every time. Sometimes Hyunjin would play the drums for you, taking your excited requests of the 70's and 80's rock songs. It was all so perfect, having Hyunjin in your life and every time you saw him moving his own across a piece of paper, whipping up a cartoon for you as a gift, your heart smiled, urging you to let it take over for just a little longer.

But Aphrodite had something else in plan.

Sometimes the Gods plan sinister things for humans. Sometimes they say 'lets whip up conflict'. And most often it's not between one human and another. Most often it's between a human and her own mind. You had gotten a call on a nice Thursday morning, when you were about to set out for work, clad in a white dress, which reached your knees. A call from your adoptive parents. Unbeknownst to the entire world, behind your pretty face, you hid a grief filled secret behind those glassy eyes. Your childhood wasn't all sunshines and rainbows. You had grown up in an orphanage basically your entire life, and at the tender age of eleven, you had gotten adopted by a rich couple. Good right? Nope it was the polar opposite. Turns out they had adopted you for their own benefit, to gain support from the media to continue their company or some bullshit like that. It had haunted you all your life, how they would never speak a word to you, never a word of affection. It was just words of 'who would ever love you?' and 'you aren't capable of love'. When you had gotten accepted in college, with a full ride scholarship, they had help a party, not for you, but to brag that their daughter, whom they did not even love, had gotten into a college all by herself. They had turned their devil tails into angel wings and it angered you, but you stayed silent. Why should you fight battles with other people when you could fight a battle with your own mind? You had cut off all communications with them however as soon as you left for college. Now it was just you and the world. Getting a job was the hardest thing and you still remember all those days that you survived on water and biscuits, like Marie Curie, when she used to research on radioactivity. You had learnt that your 'parents's' buisness had gone bankrupt, soon after you had gotten a job, but they still hadn't ever contacted you until this Thursday. It was Seungmin's birthday today and you had gotten him a puppy keychain, one that he had been wanting for a long time, which he had told you about in secret. You had purchased it the day before and wrapped it up in a cute box, writing some notes on the top. It was supposed to be the most perfect day. Happiness and melted ice cream that was what this day was supposed to be.

"Hello?" You had picked up your mother's call and your world came crashing down immediately. "Hey there Y/N. We need some money right now and we know you work for Mr Kim. Send us some money please." Not even a hello. The woman who had given you food and shelter didn't even say a hello. The woman who you owed nothing to didn't even say hello.

Hyunjin wondered where you were that day. You wouldn't ever miss a day of work and plus you were excited for Seungmin's birthday. You were going to go for a birthday party which was to be held at Chan's house. Hyunjin had told you that most of the boys would be bringing their girlfriends so you could meet them. You wouldn't never have missed this, especially not when your eyes lit up, when he had told you that Seungmin would be singing for you guys and Minho would be bringing his famous meat. So why? Why was your chair lying all alone and your americano untouched? He had asked Mr Kim whether you had called him today, to which he got disappointment when Mr Kim said no. Your boss didn't really care whether or not you took breaks, since you mostly finished your work in advance, in order to save time. That day Hyunjin told the guys, that he wouldn't be coming to the party, much to their disappointment. But they understood when he said that he was worried for you. He basically talked about you 24/7 and the boys still didn't understand how their most romantic friend ever ended up not knowing what love was.

Hyunjin had an extra key to your house, which you had given him after two months of knowing him, trusting him enough to keep an emergency contact. Hyunjin kept fiddling with it on the cab ride to your place, massaging his nerves to calm himself down. As he reached your house, the atmosphere around him changed. It became gloomy, even when the Sun attacked him with his rays. The sunflowers in your garden all seemed to bow their heads to him, as if to apologise.

"Y/N?" Hyunjin stepped inside your house, calling your name. "Y/N where are you?" He shouted a little louder this time. If you weren't in the living room, you'd be up in your bedroom or the library. Hyunjin slowly climbed up the stairs to the second floor, taking in the eerie silence of the house. It was such a loud silence. He could hear something in the distance but he didn't know what it was. Was it a cat? He heard a wailing noise that sounded something like a wolf crying.

The door to your bedroom was open. Hyunjin stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. He knew how creepy this was, to enter a person's house like this, but he didn't have a choice. "Y/N?" He called out, noticing the light in your bathroom switched on. "Y/N!" You were sitting on the floor, with a knife next to you. Your hair was in tangles and your body swayed back and forth, As you kept mumbling something to yourself. Your upper arm was slightly bleeding and your breathing was heavy. You had been lying there for the entire morning. You were still in your dress,which was now stained with blood from your arm. Your face was tear stained and your eyes were glassy. "Y/n. Hey look at me. Look at me. I'm here." You looked up to see Hyunjin's worried face, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted again. "Hyunjin?" You breathed out in a weak voice, which made Hyunjin's heart drop to his knees. "Yes it's me. Hey breathe. Please breathe for me." He coached you through breathing in and out, which calmed you down a bit, but you were still shivering and your skin was ice cold and white. You looked like a ghost. A ghost with sunken eyes and shocked expression stuck on its face.

Hyunjin carefully lifted you up and carried you to your bed, careful not to disturb your injury, which he immediately knew how it happened, from the knife lying beside you. He got some cloth and medicine for you from the first aid kit you hid under your bed, something you had told him a long time ago. You watched him with wide eyes as he carefully dressed your wound and got some water for you, forcing you to drink it.

"What happened? And it's ok if you don't wanna tell me." He sat beside you as you leant back against the bed frame. You tried not to catch his eye because you knew if you looked into those galaxies inside his eyes, you would start weeping. "Nothing happened Hyunjin." You mumbled, to which he scoffed silently, getting his hand up to your forehead to check your temperature. It was normal, thankfully you didn't have a fever. "Y/n" he faced you and out his hand on yours. "You know you can tell me right? I'm here for you and I'm worried. Please tell me what happened." It all happened so quickly. You looked into his eyes, taking in the stars inside of them, and you couldn't hold it back anymore as you burst out crying. Hyunjin was quick to hug you, holding your head gently as you buried yourself deeper in his chest, staining his grey shirt. His heart was breaking into a milion pieces, seeing his universe crying out her planets from her eyes. He shushed you from time to time, to make sure you don't become weak from crying.

"Y/N hey hey." He held you head in his hands, cupping your cheeks. "What's wrong? Just one word. Tell me one word. I beg you." You sniffled slightly and looked up at him, stopping you're tears slowly. You felt guilty, for him coming to you. Why should he? He's a human like you and he has responsibilities too and he should tend to them, not you. "Hyunjin, you should go. Y-you have S-Seungmin's party to attend. I'll be fine." Hyunjin knew how much you rejected being taken care of. Care was was word which simply never existed in your dictionary, courtesy to your past.

"Y/N-" "No Hyunjin!" You lashed out at him, tears brewing again in your eyes. Hyunjin now understood why the sunflowers outside had bowed to him, and why the aura was grey today. You had bottled up your feelings again, and one single word from a person of your past, was enough to break you. "I don't want help I don't need it! Just leave me alone! I don't want to be around you!" You panted a bit after shouting all that, your chest feeling heavy, not from the weight of your exhaustion, but from the weight of the entire world around you "Get out. Now."

The next few days, you came back to work, you avoided Hyunjin. You couldn't bear to look at his face, knowing that the stars in your eyes will collapse again if you do. You both worked in complete silence, with Hyunjin silently putting the completed illustrations in your desk, whenever you left to go to the bathroom. You now left at 9 am, instead of your usual 10 am along with Hyunjin. Your americanos seemed even more bitter now that you had no one to share your memories with. Every song in the world sounded like the same mundane melody now, chords repeating over and over again.

But Aphrodite always have something in plan, for souls like yours and Hyunjin's.

Hyunjin had been comforted by his friends for a week now. Every week, he would turn up at either Felix or Chan's house and cry to them. It broke their hearts to see their dearest friend weep and sob over you. You, on the other hand, would sometimes turn up to Minho, drinking his americano and venting your feelings, while he silently grilled his meat and put it on your plate. What you didn't know was that Hyunjin would be hiding silently behind the counter, listening to the notes of your voice talk about him. So one fine Saturday morning, he decided to do something. Something that would finally satisfy Aphrodite, and make her drop her roses down to earth to celebrate.

"Y/N." He called your name as you focused on your most recent article. "Y/N." He said again, when you didn't respond. "Y/N for Pete's sake, talk to me!" He basically shouted at you. You were staying back late tonight, courtesy to the hundreds of things you had to edit, due to your numerous amount of holidays. "Not now Hyunjin. I have to edit this." You spoke sternly, abandoning the fun filled voice you usually used when you were with him.

Hyunjin frowned at you, this time an actual frown, not like the playful ones he did when you would steal his meat from his plate. He was angry. He was angry at the world and at your mind for not treating you well. He was angry at your past, for making you believe that you were unworthy of love. He was furious and he would take it out right now, when no one except for you two were in the office building.

"Y/N listen to me!" He shouted, making you startled. You had gotten up from your seat and now you were cowering against a wall. You had never seen Hyunjin like this before, eyes narrowed and lips closed, burning anger seeping through them.

"Y/N you are quite possibly the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my stupid life. The way you walk the way you talk, everything about you is so amazing! It's so magnificent to me, how everyday you would explain the meaning behind a song, with your eyes all widened and your mouth moving fast! And it hurts me. It hurts me so much to see you like this, thinking that you are unworthy of love." His words were hitting you like bowling balls. "When you told me about your past, you know what I felt? I felt anger. True anger for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life, I wanted to burn down this entire world for a person. I was also so relieved that you trusted me enough to tell me about something like this. You really think I can't see the scars on your wrist through your foundation?" The scars on your wrist. How did he know about that? "Hyunjin-" you breathed out, crystals forming in your eyes again. "Y/N it breaks me. It breaks me so much to have a person like you in my life and not love them. I love you more than you can imagine. So why won't you accept it?"

"Because I can't!" The words spilled from your mouth like water spilling from a waterfall. "I can't Hyunjin! I don't know what love feels like! I never did! An-and when you came into my life and introduce me to all these amazing people, I felt so happy! For the first time in this dumb thing I call my life I felt happy. And I hated it! I hated the way Felix's eyes would light up every time he saw me. I hated the way Chan would always check up on me, making sure I don't overwork myself. I hated the way Minho would treat me like his own family, making sure I got the biggest portions of meat." Everything that you had kept hidden in that crack of your soul came running out. "I hated the way Jeongin looks up to me, telling me he admires the way I work! And you know what I hate the most out of all? I hate you! I hate the way you care so much for me and my stupid brain can't see it! The way you draw little cartoons on my americanos, the way you talk to me as if you were talking to a gentle lamb! I hate it Hyunjin! I hate myself for not seeing how much you love me! And I hate that I can't return the favour!"

Your knees gave way and you collapsed on the floor, sobbing your eyes out. Hyunjin was quick to kneel down next to you, hands searching for yours. Both of you looked into each other's eyes, seeing your entire universe's inside of them. You need love. You needed love to exist. And Hyunjin was there just to do that.

He leaned closer to you, eyes not leaving yours. He knew he had to do it now. Now or never right? Hyunjin, cupped your cheek with his left hand, right one still squeezing yours, and kissed you. He kissed you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you as if you were the reincarnation of his last lover. He kissed you as if he had been wanting to kiss you for the last fifteen years. He kissed you, and you kissed him back. Your lips moved in sync with his, not moving away, hands wrapped safely around each other, both of you shielded from whatever the world was planning next. Time moved slowly again, as if the spinners of time had abandoned their looms to come watch you two.

And somewhere in the clouds, Aphrodite smiled, knowing that her mission was complete, and that two loveless souls had finally reunited, mending each other's cracks, slowly but surely.

Epilouge

"Hyunjin! We're going to be late! Hurry your ass!" You called out to your boyfriend of five years, as you waited by the door, bag clutched in hand, and white sundress flowing softly. The ash coloured cat you had both adopted, rubbed against your legs, purring and licking herself. Hyunjin had organised a 'special' date today, taking you to one of your most favourite places, a meadow by the beach, where you used to spend your days. It was already late in tbe evening, when Hyunjin finally came down from the steps of your house, still fixing his hair. "Alright Miss Universe, stop fixing your hair and come on!" You said, causing him to giggle, as both of you got in the car and drove off towards the sunset.

"God I love this place so much." You stretched your arms as you watched the dying sun, collapse into the ocean. "More than me?" Hyunjin pouted, as you slapped his chest playfully. "Oh god are those Minho's Macarons? These things are drugs to me." Both of you took a Macaron each, and raised them in the air, as if to make a toast. "Well, to our five year anniversary." Hyunjin toasted while you said 'hear hear!'.

"Y/N, I have a gift for you." You both had eaten all your food and we're slightly leaning against a tree, wrapped in each other's warmth. "What is it Hyun?" Hyunjin pulled out a paper from his pocket. A link sticky note. With Purple glitter pen scribbled on it.

Marry me Y/N?

"I thought I should do it in the way we first talked to each other. You know to make it more roma-" Hyunjin didn't get to complete his sentence, as you threw yourself around him, kissing him on his lips, as if you didn't kiss him every single day.

And Aphrodite couldn't stop giggling and smiling, knowing that now, love existed. And you? Oh you loved the existence of love.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjjn #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin comfort #skz fic #hyunjin fic #hwang hyunjin comfort #hwang hyunjin fluff #skz #stray kids #skz comfort #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #FINALLY I GOT THIS DONE #oh my god this took so much time to write #bye bye now #have fun reading

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