romancingdaffodils

[romancingdaffodils]

Something.

He say, “I know you, you know me”

Remus Lupin x gn!reader

warnings: umm, nothing yet really. Reader wears a dress and there's cigarettes smoking. Is set in 70s UK! (Biblically accurate collars and there will be talk about the riots back then )

Hey! Have you missed me? I bet you didn't expect my return with a 5k word long fic about our lovely Remus. There's more chapters to come, I just wanted to lay the foundations for something new. The titles have been stolen from: Something - The Beatles and Come Together - The Beatles

I can't really explain the plot as it doesn't actually exist yet, but for this chapter: Black family ball - reader makes her formal society debut: joins forces with the other teens there. Its a bit crappy really, but it will get better I promise. I'm just a little rusty. Just know they are magical but aren't yet back at Hogwarts.

Debutant. You were a debutant at a Black ball. You were making your debut in front of the entire Black family, and every other powerful wizarding family. To phrase it as simply as possible: you were bricking it. Your dress was widely uncomfortable and you hardly moved for fear of the corset breaking and tearing you to shreds. Every piece of jewellery that hung upon your body made you feel as though you were a Christmas tree. You’d been primped and preened like a tree - styled to the taste of your homeowner. You were merely being placed on display to impress other families, like a tree. 

1977.

Your hands were shaking as you sat in the car beside your stepfather - whose name was William. The man who had turned you from the daughter of the best dragonologist the wizarding world had seen to a Christmas tree. You were his very own all-year-long Christmas tree. 

A small sigh left your lips as the car stopped outside of the Black mansion. Then, a larger sigh followed. You screwed your eyes shut before reminding yourself it was one night and then you were safe for a few weeks. Safe from the sheer embarrassment of debuting. You knew no ‘respectable’ wizarding family would see you as legitimate due to your lineage. The only reason your stepfather had enforced your debut was to protect his own image. He had been from a respectable family but had failed to realise marrying a woman far poorer and smarter than him would damage his reputation. He simply wanted you to have the best of both worlds. Even if that meant being a year-long Christmas tree. You understood that, to an extent. However, you couldn’t understand why he had insisted you debuted at a Black ball - especially as it was just before school restarted. You knew the Blacks from Hogwarts. Each and every one of them were popular in their own regard. Sirius Black was actually popular. The rest were just feared. However, if you embarrassed yourself at this ball you knew none of them would ever let you live it down. With Sirius being part of the infamous ‘marauders’, the teasing would be relentless. Nobody wanted to make an enemy out of them. Fortunately, you were almost completely certain not one of the group knew your name. You were rather good at blending into the background despite sharing many classes with them. You had sat next to James in potions during your fifth year. However, Lily Evans had sat on the table beside yours so he never really paid attention to you. It had stung a little at the time - to be ignored by someone so influential. But, part of you had learned to love not being seen by them because you were certain you couldn’t handle the fate of Severus Snape or Lily Evans. You had your own small group of friends; you were happy. Invisible, but happy. 

Alas, you cannot stay simply content forever. And, something was telling you that tonight would change the course of your future forever. Perhaps it was your hormonal teenage brain being over dramatic. Or maybe, just maybe, you could change your path in life after today.

Your stepfather helped you out of the car. The house was huge. You would describe it as a mansion. It was made from a stunning grey stone. Each window was perfectly carved out with swirls and edges. Pillars crawled across the front of the house, holding up the foyer. It clearly had ancient Roman and Greek influences alongside being an English gothic manor. As you moved closer towards the home you made it your mission to absorb each detail. There were gargoyles where the foyer met the wall. They looked down at you with contorted faces. One side of the house had a small sprig of ivy crawling up its walls. You had no doubt that would be quickly dealt with. You were then greeted by the doormen who led the two of you through a back entrance up to the second floor. Apparently, it was a Black tradition to have any debutants walk down the grand staircase as their entrance - you know, just to really display the Christmas tree. Your stepfather squeezed your interlocked arms. It didn’t really help your nerves. You and large staircases had never particularly agreed. In fact, anyone who knew you would probably campaign to keep you as far away from staircases as possible. This was due to a rather embarrassing fall down the stairs during your first year at Hogwarts. You were extraordinarily fortunate in that only your friends had seen it. It was now a longstanding inside joke. Your legs felt like jelly with each step you took towards the grand staircase. The doormen stood beside the grand doors. The doors had gold painted around the edges and were clearly a very expensive dark oak. It all made you feel very poor. It had engravings that looked like branches reaching out towards you. You turned your head to your stepfather, who nodded at you. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other after the car left your home driveway. Your name was announced by one of the house elves downstairs. You couldn’t quite believe it was 1977 and they had actual doormen - you were trying to rationalise this by assuming it was a tradition for balls. 

The doors swung open. The pair of you walked towards the stairs. You inhaled, and then exhaled. Each shaky step was a step towards finding the buffet table and filling yourself up on expensive chocolates or so you told yourself. You descended the stairs and your eyes scanned the room. Your dress dragged along behind you. Everyone was dressed similarly. Classy ball gowns, expensive silk gloves and tuxedos tailored to a t were all you could see. Then, your eyes landed on a rather odd-looking bunch of people. One was wearing a leather jacket, one a proper tuxedo, one was wearing a tux that was slightly too short and the other seemed to have lost his suit jacket and waistcoat. Suddenly, it dawned on you. It was the marauders. All four were here. And, all four were staring directly at you. Everyone was staring at you. You were clinging onto your stepfather for dear life by this moment. You continued to force a grin as your eyes surveyed the room once again. You locked eyes with a girl in a blue dress. Your own thoughts thanked Merlin as you looked down at her. An ally. Alice Fortescue. Never before had such a great sigh of relief left your lips. You were now able to admire the attire of the room. Brightly coloured tuxedos and oversized collars made you feel at home - it felt like being back in muggle England. The comfort of knowing you weren’t alone allowed you to make it down the stairs without falling. You were then led towards Orion Black, the one hosting the ball. You nodded your head respectfully as William thanked him. You thanked him also, attempting to appear as polite as possible. William kept your arms interlinked as he whisked you around the room to ‘mingle’. You met and thanked countless Black family members for their ‘most gracious invite’ that you were supposedly ‘honoured to have been given’. It became repetitive and slightly exhausting after the fifth person. William then introduced you to the Potters. And, Merlin, they simply exuded rich. Fleamont was kind and jolly: clearly coming from old money. His tux was not at all in the 70s style, but was much rather timeless and extremely classy. Euphemia wore delicate jewellery and a simple dress that screamed and shouted the word elegance. She had complimented your dress. You felt like a fool standing beside her. She was absolutely breathtaking in both appearance and character. Euphemia had also asked if you knew James. You replied with ‘kind of’. She said he probably wasn’t your type of person; he was too much of a troublemaker. You laughed politely.

Then, once you deemed it appropriate and William had found some old friends to converse with - you escaped. Weaving through the crowd, you moved towards the spot where you had spotted Alice. 

“Alice! Oh thank Merlin you are h--“ you cut yourself off. Yes, Alice was standing there looking overjoyed at your presence. However, she had company. Her boyfriend - Frank, who you didn’t mind, had his arm wrapped around her waist. And, yes, Frank was okay but, he played quidditch. Gryffindor quidditch meant he brought along the very people you were set on avoiding. Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. They were all smiling at you. Remus tilted his head down at you - he was standing the closest to you.

“Oh! Don’t you just look stunning. I thought I was going to have to spend the night with these idiots. I am SO glad you’re here! I can’t even believe my family got an invite. Panda is here somewhere too—“ Alice said, all very excitedly. She was then cut off.

“We haven’t met before, I’m Sirius Black,” Sirius said, offering out his hand. You assumed (quite correctly) that he was attempting to flirt with you. Naturally, your instinct was to shut him down.

“I know. I’ve been in your classes for the past 6 years. Actually, I sat in front of you in transfiguration last year.” you stated, deadpanning at him. Everyone in your little group froze, not quite sure how to react to that. Apart from one. Remus Lupin - who laughed. He laughed quite heavily.

“Nice one, Pads,” he stated, rolling his eyes. You often forgot Remus was Welsh. You wished he spoke more often - he was the only tolerable one of the group. You wondered why he had just called Sirius ‘Pads’, but decided to keep questions to yourself. “Well don’t act like you know who she is!” Sirius spat back, like a true diva. Remus shook his head and opened his mouth to answer. He was interrupted by the ever-booming voice of James Potter.

“Oh, Merlin! I know who you are! I sat next to you in fifth year- potions, right?! I remember because you told me that if I wanted Lily to talk to me I should get her to tutor me. Smartest idea ever.”

“Sounds like it was just an excuse to get you to shut up in lesson.” Peter said, shrugging his shoulders. This earned him a jab in the arm from James, who rolled his eyes.

“Do any of you actually know my name?” you replied, sarcastically. You didn’t expect much. Clearly, neither did Alice as she had already interlocked arms with you; she was ready to make an escape.

Remus said it. Very softly. It was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “One of us has to pay attention to the rest of the world.” he added, a little bit louder. You raised your eyebrow at him, but Alice had already started to drag you away. You looked back at him, feeling extremely confused alongside conflicted. Why did he know your name? Part of you said it was just someone actually acknowledging your existence, but you really couldn’t believe it. So, once again you asked yourself ‘why the fuck does he know me?’.

You smiled as Panda told a story - it was something about her summer adventures. You’d been a little too distracted with the expensive chocolates to listen fully but, you were sure it was extremely entertaining. You liked Pandora. She was a little whimsical, but extremely smart. She was not one to be messed with and seemed to have rather unlimited confidence. It was infectious. Alice had also offered up a catchup of her own summer. As expected, she had spent many a day with Frank. You thought the pair were adorable. You were certain they’d remain together no matter what. She had retold a story about visiting Cornwall with Frank’s family. To be completely honest, you were jealous. One, of the fact they had managed to have good weather and two, of how truly sweet their relationship was. You didn’t think it was possible for two people so you to be so in love. It was impressive.“Why don’t we go into the gardens? Or do you need to mingle more?’ Panda asked, looking at you. You smiled and shook your head. It appeared William was doing all the mingling for you and you’d much rather avoid the potential for any embarrassment in front of such a crowd. You had a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. 

“Let's go, get me out of here! I don’t know if I can stand this company any longer.” Alice joked, you smiled and followed behind the two of them as they walked. 

The gardens were beautiful. All kinds of flowers sprouted from the plant pots. Rose bushes lined the outside. You wondered what spell they had used to keep the flowers in bloom. You had no doubt it was at a large inconvenience to the house elves. Your hands gently dragged over the petals of one of the roses. It was a gorgeous deep red colour. It reminded you of the flowers from fairytales. Alice and Luna were sat on a bench, still chatting. You had found yourself with no choice but to admire the stunning plants. There were archways coated in ivy. Orange trees, with flowers that smelt simply divine. And, your own favourite, daffodils. They were tucked away in the corner, but had still made it into the garden alongside a mix of wildflowers. 

A rustling came from one of the archways, and yet again - the marauders popped out. However, this time they had increased in numbers. With the addition of Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows they were now ten times more intimidating. They had also gained the stowaway of Frank, who had clearly just been on the lookout for Alice. You looked over, examining each one of them. You then decided that to be their friend you had to be a supermodel. You just couldn’t believe that a group of teenage friends were so absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. And, yet, here they were.

And then, they all started talking. So easily. Conversation flowed, cigarettes were passed out and drinks were shared. James and Peter sat on the floor; Sirius leaned against the wall and the rest sat across the two benches. You stayed in the corner, admiring the plants. That was until you received a tap on the shoulder. You turned your head. Stood behind you was Remus Lupin, holding out a cig and lighter. 

“Oh, thank you,” you said, smiling softly as you placed the cigarette between your lips. You cupped the lighter with your hand as you lit it and then passed his lighter back to him.

“Not a fan of Sirius, then?” he asked, letting out a puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you. He had moved to stand next to you as he placed the lighter back into his trouser pocket. He must’ve discarded his blazer some point after your arrival because he was now left in just his shirt (which actually fit) and trousers. His trousers were a little bit too short but, you could only see it because of Williams's expert lessons in proper tailoring. 

“I think his head is a little bit too far up his own arse is all. I don’t dislike him.” you responded. Remus laughed a little, shaking his head. You blew out some smoke. You hadn’t managed to get your hands on a cigarette since before summer. Merlin, this was nice.

“I don’t think you’re the only one who thinks that. He’s alright - most of the time.” he replied, looking over at you once again. You had only just realised who you were talking to - his best friend. He didn’t really seem to mind. You decided to just play it off and hope for the best.

“We’ve never spoken before.” you said, so much for playing it off.

“No, we haven’t.”

“How do you know my name?”

“One of the Hufflepuff parties - I was sat with Alice. I was trying to help sober her up. You came over to take her to bed. I think I said she was fine - you said ‘And how would you know that? You don’t even know our names’. That was in 4th year.” he replied, letting out another cloudy exhale. You nodded, the memories coming flooding back to you. You laughed: a little embarrassed at your rudeness and a little impressed by how brash you had been.

“Yeah, I’m not the best when I’m tired. Sorry about that.” 

“No need to apologise - you were right. So, I made sure I knew your names after that. Plus, you always sat on the table across from us at lunch.”

“Oh. Hey - that’s my thing. I watch the other tables.” you replied, jokingly.

Remus chuckled lightly, nodding his head. “I’m sure you do.” he said, tilting his head.

“No, really. It’s how we found out Frank liked Alice, because he was always staring at her.” 

“That’s actually quite impressive.”

“North or South Wales?”

“What?” “Where are you from, north or south?” you asked, looking up at him. You took a small drag from the cigarette.

“North.”

“That’s where my grandma used to live! Sorry, I knew I recognised the northern accent.”

“Take it you’re from Northern England, then?”

“Northwest. Best place to be.”

“Home of the Beatles.”

You nodded and then smiled. “Who is your favourite?”

“George Harrison.” Remus replied, lifting an eyebrow at him. You’d placed such an emphasis on the question - which made it appear make or break for your conversation.

“Good choice, mines Ringo. Do you like music, then?”

“Can’t keep away from it.”

“Bowie?” “The best of the best.”

“HE IS! Hunky Dory is my favourite.” you exclaimed, a little over excitedly. Remus seemed genuinely interested in your music talk. Only one of your friends shared this interest; it was nice to have someone else to talk to about it.

“Ziggy Stardust for me. Hunk Dory is exceptional though.”

“You seem like the Ziggy Stardust type.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you like the Sex Pistols? Ooh, have you ever heard of Squeeze? Do you like the Clash? Blondie? The Jam? The Who?”

“Yes. No, but I’d be happy to listen. Yes, yes, yes and yes.”

You were resisting the temptation to scream. You looked up at him, jaw slack. Your eyes were quite literally sparkling. “Where have you been all this time?”

“At the table across from you.” he said, raising his eyebrows at you. You snorted and shook your head.

“I collect records. You’re more than welcome to borrow some.”

“I’m honoured. Would it be possible for me to listen to some with you?” he asked. His voice was soft and smooth. Your eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting with you or if he was being serious. 

“Depends on the album.” you said, deciding that was the best response. If he really was flirting with you - which you refused to believe he was - you had to tread carefully. You refused to let yourself forget he was a marauder. He was from the group who had terrorised teachers and students alike for the past 6 years going on 7. You looked up at him, nervously tapping your cigarette.

“Every album in your collection?” he asked, with a resided eyebrow. He now looked down at you. You were facing him with every part of yourself except your body. 

“I could make that happen. It might take months though.”

“Happily spent with you.”

“You don’t even know me, I could be secretly evil and that’s why I have a small group of friends.” you said, not being entirely serious. Remus laughed a little.

“Alice likes you.”

“Alice likes everyone.”

“And, I do know you.”

“How would that come to be?”

“Professor McGonagall. She’s making us work together on coursework this year. In her words ‘to bring that lovely little girl out of her shell. She’s so lovely but just too quiet! Especially when she’s in classes with your lot.’” he said, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stamping on it. “Oh, and I saw you taking the piss out of James in transfiguration before summer. That was funny.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I thought I was invisible to your lot.”

“You were to them. Not to me. I had a little competition going on with you in transfiguration and potions.”

“You always beat me in tests by a mark! It’s so annoying.”

“You noticed?”

“I was starting to think you did it on purpose.”

Remus laughed and shook his head. He dipped into his pocket again. You had just dropped your cigarette. You put it out with your foot. “You look really nice tonight, is what Sirius wanted to tell you before you called his bluff.” he said, finding his lighter and the pack of cigs.

“I don’t need to hear it from him. He’s far too short to give his opinion on my appearance.” you said, joking. Mostly. This sent Remus into a fit of hysterical giggles - interrupted by the occasional cough. You laughed a little at him. 

“I can cheers to that.” he said.

“How would all your girls compliment you then?”

“Oooh, low blow.”

“Alright, Casanova.” 

“I left that lifestyle behind in 5th year.”

“It was short-lived. May you rest in peace: Remus Lupin the Slag.” 

“You will not be missed.” Remus joked, shaking his head. He then moved to light another cigarette. He held it between his lips: inhale, exhale.

“It must’ve been fun though. And, you always have people being madly in love with you. I’m quite jealous really.”

“I’m sure more people take notice of you than you realise.”

“It's taken 6 years for most people to actually learn my name - I doubt it.”

“You’re very harsh on yourself.”

You shrugged, going slightly quiet. Remus felt a discomfort in the situation and knew the feeling well. He decided to change the subject.

“How has your summer been?” he asked, sounding genuine with interest. During your conversation with Remus, you noticed he was extremely genuine. Everything about him felt real. He truly seemed interested. It sent you into a spiral of disbelief; why did he care?

“Good, actually. Thank you for asking. I got to see a load of new bands because we went and stayed in Liverpool for a few days. It was mint. And, even better, I got to go visit the house where John Lennon used to stay with his Grandma in Blackpool. It was super cool. It did mean staying at my dad's though, which sucked a little - but you know, sacrifices.”

“Sounds, wonderful. I spent most of my summer staying with James.”

“Oh, really? Was it good? I met his mother and father - they were absolutely lovely. I wonder how they produced such a loud creature.” 

Remus laughed at your calling James a ‘creature’. In fact to Remus it appeared rather ironic that you were talking to him and referring to James as a ‘creature’. Remus was well aware that his scarred face and at times withered appearance were blatantly obvious. However, you didn’t seem to mind at all. “It was good.” he replied, smiling down at you. The memories of this summer truly did make Remus happy. Especially because all four had been practically attached at the hip all summer. The only reason they were at this ball was because Sirius’ parents wanted to appear kind and carling; like they hadn’t miscommunicated their own son. Sirius had only agreed to go if he could bring his friends.

“Wait, sorry, can we back track a little bit. McGonagall said we are going to be working on coursework together? Like for the N.E.W.Ts?” you asked, looking wildly confused.

“Yeah - she said we both had skills we could offer each other in our studying. It also meant I could stop Sirius and Pete from trying to copy my work.” he replied, nodding his head.

“Wow, that’s so random. I wonder why she put us two together?” “I have no idea,” Remus replied, letting go another inhale of smoke. You looked up at him. Silently, he held the cigarette out towards you. You smiled and whispered a small thank you. After two quick drags, you handed it back to Remus - who did the same. The pattern continued as your conversation progressed. 

The pair of you continued to discuss music and school. The conversation had then shifted to books and film. Both of you had a shared love for muggle classic literature and Star Wars - both of you couldn’t wait for the second film. Remus said his favourite was The Picture of Dorian Gray. You had agreed it was a good book, but your favourite remained as Pride and Prejudice. As your conversation changed, so did the two of you. You had moved to be sat on the floor, facing the daffodils. This left you with your back to the rest of the group. It all felt very refreshing. Soon, it dawned on you that Remus Lupin was by far one of the biggest nerds you had ever encountered. He was so popular and well loved, but so unbelievably uncool. It made you laugh a little bit. He was just like you. He passed the cigarette back to you, smiling over at you. “So, what else?” Remus asked.

Confused, you tilted your head. “What else?” you repeated back to him.

“What else have I missed about you?”

“I don’t know, 17 years is a lot to cover. What have I missed about you?”

He laughed a little, understanding it was a slightly stupid question. See, Remus never thought he’d have the opportunity to get to know you, let alone actually get along with you. You’d always appeared very closed off and shy - when you weren’t with your friends. It felt good to hear you speak at a normal volume. And, to making you smile felt the best (according to Remus that is). “What do you enjoy doing?” he asked, deciding this was a better way into getting to know you better.

“Reading, writing, going to gigs, listening to music.”

“You like to write?”

“Love it. Fiction and non-fiction. I love to write my own romance fiction. It makes me feel better about the absence of it in my own life,” you joked, rolling your eyes. You didn’t mean to appear pathetic, but it was hard to not be a little self deprecating at times. It kept you humble.

“Id love to read it some time. I quite like writing too.”

“You do?” “Yeah.”

You smiled, offering back the cigarette. He gladly took it. You took a moment to just look at him. His face, his eyes, his hair and his scars. You’d never really paid enough attention to them before. They looked sore. A part of you wondered what the cause was, and another part of you told you it was not your business. You knew Remus had been in one or two fights during his time at Hogwarts. However, it had never been anything serious enough to sustain injuries like those. You tried to push it to the back of your mind but, the curiosity continued to creep up. You drew your eyes away from his scars and instead to his eyes. You’d never seen anything like his. They were brown, but almost looked like honey. You were sure you could study them for years. If you were any good at art, Remus would definitely be your muse. His hair was a sandy brown too. Everything about him appeared to be soft apart from the harsh cuts over his body. He’d rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. You’d found yourself wanting to stare at his forearms. Albeit embarrassing, it was the first time you’d properly liked someone your own age. You’d only ever liked people who were in the years above. Something about this felt a little different: it wasn’t purely physical attraction. He was lovely to talk to, and he saw you. He saw you. That was rare. Looking over at you, Remus lifted an eyebrow.

“Where’d you just go?” he asked, turning to face you. He stretched out his legs and groaned a little, rubbing his knees. “Oh, just thinking. Are your knees okay? You sound like my mum after doing the gardening,” you hummed, laughing a little at your own joke. Remus shook his head, laughing a little too.

“You’re cruel. I just ache sometimes.” “It’s the lankiness. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“Probably.”

“Unless you have a secret double life.”

Remus thanked Merlin he didn’t have to answer that because James had pointed out the two of you being sat together. Everyone was now making kissing noises. You turned to him and rolled your eyes - he just laughed. It was nothing he wasn’t used to; his friends had always been like this. They continued their teasing until a noise came from the doors. Suddenly, all cigs were dropped and they pretended to be partaking in polite conversation. Much to your surprise, it was William calling your name. Remus stood up, standing on his cigarette. He offered his hand out to help you stand up. You took his offer, being particularly careful not to damage your dress. You smiled up at the tall boy. He smiled back. “I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

“I hope so too. You’ve got a lot of records to listen to” you replied, smiling wildly now. It all felt too good to be true. You turned and waved goodbye to everyone else before rushing off to find William.

You really did hope you would see him soon. He’d allowed you to forget where you were for the moment. He let you forget who you were. You felt important. 

[romancingdaffodils]

some links to help victims !!! :

(for those of you in the UK)

please, reach out if you can. someone who claims to love you should not harm you.

[romancingdaffodils]

❤️

[romancingdaffodils]

Love Kills

Clampdown

rockstar!remus lupin x reader

PART TGREE OF LOVE KILLS

James wants to kill time. What better way than a trip to ths pub accompanied by a Scottish football game. Remus isn’t seeing you after the incident. You end up sandwiched between him and Sirius. Chaos of the best kind ensues

bet you didn’t expect this come back did you

lots of love from lilac

warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, general lovey dovey ness, slight pining.

“Alright, party people, let’s get going! We have pub munch and a Rangers game waiting for us.” Pete shouted down the bus. You assumed James had told him to phrase it like that.

“Food poisoning and a bar fight impending.” you mumbled under your breath and Marlene heard. She laughed, whole heartedly. You smiled. The blonde rockstar esc girl was the lead singer for The Valkyries and she was unbelievably punk for lack of a better word. It was shocking to you her and Sirius weren’t dating (it became less shocking when you accidentally bumped into her and Dorcas snogging behind the tour bus). She had her hair cut in what could only be described as a spiked mod cut. In theory, it sounds awful, but some how the blonde woman managed to pull it off. She was pretty to the point your eyes threatened to turn green with envy.

“No need to be so down, scruff. ‘s not like we’re eating something Black has cooked.” she purred, smirking over at you. Her arm was lazily slouched over the shoulder of Dorcas, who was fast asleep on Marlene’s chest.

Sprinting out from backstage, you began to pack up the drums. You were desperate for a distraction from what had just happened. James walking in would appear during midnight daydreams filled with embarrassing moments. The anticipation of sweet relief that never came from the sandy haired man was far worse than any you’d felt before. Silently, you prayed you’d get another moment alone with Remus.

Completely oblivious, you waltzed outside holding the neatly packed away drum kit. Just as you were about to pack it away into storage, you saw something in the corner of your eye. A little flicker of hope made you check it wasn’t the one you were so desperate to see. Dropped, your jaw almost hit the floor in surprise. Dorcas, the Valkyrie’s lead guitarist and Marlene were stood unashamedly showing a rather intimate public display of affection. As cute as the couple were, the scene drove you even further into desperation of wanting to know what could’ve been.

“You’re funny.” you commented, giggling to yourself quietly. She gave you a proud smile.

“I know. How come we haven’t met before, you didn’t go to school with us?” she asked, curious eyes ever catlike.

“Didn’t go to school with you. Met Sirius at a concert and, you know now I’m here.”

“Exciting. Yanno James mentioned he walked into you a—“

Mary slapped her arm. You sighed, burying your head into your hands in defeat. “Did he tell everyone?” you asked, meekly. You could literally feel the colour draining from your face and everything seemed to slow down in a disgusting mix of anxiety and embarrassment.

“Just— Um. Not Sirius though, he doesn’t know.” Mary replied, smiling sympathetically. Saying nothing, you recalled your pinky promise with Remus and went on a mission to go find him. Padding off down the bus, you found him led in his bunk, book in hand.

“Alright?” he asked, not looking up from his book.

“Remember how you promised not to let me kill anyone.”

“Yeah?” his eyes flicked up to you and your stomach twisted. His voice turned to sticky honey in your ears and you were even more convinced he should be the frontman in an indie band. Or maybe he should be an actor. Or a model. He just deserved to be plastered on big screens with his voice trickling out of speakers everywhere you went.

“Need you to hold me back the next time I see James.” he snorted.

“He told everyone, then? Sorry. Should’ve known really.” Remus added, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He reached out and grabbed his shoes, tugging them onto his feet. It served as a reminder you still had an entire night of everyone and their mother knowing your personal life. The colour was yet to return to your face and slowly you realised the lanky man wasn’t really looking at you. More he was looking through you. Admittedly, it stung, but you had to pretend it didn’t. Everything seemed tense.

“Yeah. Um, so the pub. What are we going for again?” you asked, desperate to revel in his attention.

“James wanted to kill time.” he replied, looking up at you. Wincing, he stood up with a groan. ‘His knees must be bothering him,’ you thought, peering up at him.

“Alright?” you asked, peering up at him.

“Just my knees, I’ll be fine. You ready then?” he said, scratching the back of his neck. You wondered if he’d let you lazily run your fingernails up and down the skin.

“Sure. Why not.” you confirmed. He gave you a small smile, but still wasn’t really looking at you.

You wanted to kiss every inch of his skin to make him look at you.

When it came to a rare enigma of a person (like Remus Lupin), you found yourself completely pliant at every thought of them. You didn’t need to know them for very long or understand them all that well. You just needed them. Which, undoubtedly, was unhealthy in the grand scheme of things. However, who were you to disregard the thought of such a pretty man being in close contact with you?

You were almost certain you had blown everything because of Remus’s estrangement for the past few hours. Perhaps that small smidgen of intimacy would be all you could get. You’d be awfully upset if that was true. Whispering silent prayers that he’d allow you to bask in his gaze once more, you made your way off the bus with the rest of the - as Pete had called them - party people.

The walk to the pub was short, you’d ended up in a rather deep conversation with Mary about her drums. You decided she was your favourite drummer to exist ever, solely because of how lovely she was. Far nicer than Sirius was to you. You felt a pair of eyes lingering over you and automatically whipped your head round to find who it was. Locking eyes with Remus, you gave a small smile before immediately looking away. His eyes shot away without the smile. Maybe he wasn’t staring at you, you tried to rationalise the tension in your brain. The walk to the pub felt a longer than it should’ve with Remus’s eyes on you. Given it was any other situation, you would’ve been basking in Remus’s gaze. However, due to the tension brewing you found yourself wanting to hide away from it.

Squeezing into the booth, you ended up trapped in between Remus and Sirius. Your thighs were pressed tightly against the others. Remus had a pint, Sirius had some concoction of stolen drinks and vodka and you had a less impressive half drunk cider. You still felt Remus’s eyes on the side of your face. The feeling of your skin being pushed against his jeans was not helping.

“I think, I think that football is dumb! Have you ever watched Rugby? ‘s way better!” Sirius declared. You scrunched up your face and you were almost certain you heard Remus chuckle. In fact, you were completely certain because the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t ever say that, ever, again. Okay?” you said, pointing at Sirius. You felt like a teacher scolding a student, but it felt necessary.

“I’m right though.” he whined.

“So, you like watching sweaty men grapple with each other?” you said, obviously sarcastically.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Remus laughed at this exchange, wholeheartedly. He had started laughing at your sarcasm and your stomach twisted at the thought of making him chuckle. Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away, starting a conversation with Marlene and Dorcas.

“Hi.” you whispered, to Remus as you peered up at him. He tilted his head.

“Hi. You alright?” he whispered in response. His hand twitched slightly as he picked up his glass. You wouldn’t have noticed if it were anyone else, but it was Remus.

“Mhmm!” you peered over at the rest of the table and frowned slightly. “How do they do it?”

“Do what, love?” he asked, the pet name slipping out. He mentally scolded himself, but stopped when he saw the blush spread across your face. The slight curl upwards in the corners of your mouth told him he’d misread the situation. See, Remus Lupin was insecure, especially in relationships. He was certain the whole ordeal with James would’ve put you off for life and that you hated him. But, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. He would’ve much rather suffered the whole tour staring longingly at someone than try and chase after you after being walked in on due to his consistent self doubt. A moment of tipsy clarity made him realise he was completely and utterly stupid.

“Talk, so easily. And, all the time. They just, always know what to say. I’m jealous really.” you explained, thankful you didn’t stutter of your words.

“Honestly? We were popular at school, it just comes with the territory really. Me less so, I’m still working it out.” he replied, looking down at you. You nodded your head in understanding. You wanted to shrink him down to the size of a mouse and keep him in your pocket at all times.

Somehow, being sat next to Remus had managed to drown out the sound of the football for an extended period of time. However, it wasn’t long before Rangers were getting chances and it was starting to get a little too overwhelming. He seemed to notice. “Wanna go for a smoke?” he asked, offering out his hand as he stood. You’d never moved so fast before. Nodding your head, you took his hand and stood up. He walked, fast. Big strides, you supposed. It never occurred to you that he was moving fast because he was oh so desperate to be alone with you.

You hummed as you leant against the wall, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. You then handed the cigarette back to Remus, who was staring at you like you were the only girl in the world.

‘Christ,’ he thought ‘this’ll kill me.’

Your eyes landed on Remus and you grinned at him. He smiled back before putting out the cigarette. You pressed your face against the cool bricks of the building; the fresh air was relieving you of the stickiness of the pub.

“That comfy?” he asked, chuckling slightly as he looked at you.

“Rem?” you inhale, sharply. You need to ask him. You tell yourself, you have to.

“Yeah?”

“Why haven’t you looked at me since James walked in on, whatever that was?” you asked, mumbling slightly, “If you don’t like me, that’s fine I suppose but, I’d just like you to tell m-“

“ ‘Course I fucking like you, don’t be stupid. I was scared, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to embarrass you. In all honesty, I was certain it would put you off me. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person here I can handle being around for a good month straight.”

You giggled, quietly. Looking up at him, you saw something in his eyes. You couldn’t pin point it, but whatever it was made you feel admired. “Alright. I believe you.”

“Good.” he said, quite plainly. He said your name. You peered up at him. He’d moved. He was stood directly in front of you. You tensed, praying it wouldn’t be a replay of the intense anticipation from yesterday.

“Looks like the cut is healing up nice.” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. He smiled slightly, taking another step towards you. Your back was pressed firmly against the wall.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm!”

“Let me say thanks for cleaning me up?”

“Mhm!” your voice cracked part way through your squeal of approval. He giggled and you felt his breath fan against your face. You had your eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me.” he said. Your eyes opened immediately. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You stayed silent, staring up at him wide eyed.

“Everything anyone could ever want. Everything I could ever want. You’ve got no need to be jealous of those lot. You’re at least a hundred times better.” he mumbled. One of his hands drifted down to your waist, delicately squeezing at the fat there. The other cupped the side of your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

Cheers erupted from the pub. You couldn’t help yourself.

“I think someone scored.” you whispered.

“Yeah? Or maybe they’re cheering us on.” Remus said before colliding his lips with your own. He tasted of beer, which normally would be repulsive, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because it was Remus. It was dreamy eyed, pillowy lipped and pretty faced Remus Lupin and you were kissing him. Your Hands latched onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life. It may have looked like you were attempting to push him away, but in reality you were making sure this was real. That you weren’t caught up in a daydream.

Remus thought you were everything. Really. The whole package. You tried your best in everything, apart from dealing with Sirius, and he thought it was so unbelievably attractive. He wanted you to consume him inside and out. You’d already done so to his thoughts. Your lips felt like silk against his own. Remus Lupin had kissed many people. He didn’t think any kisses previously shared lived up to you. Perhaps it was the build up of tension or maybe it was the close proximity the bus forced onto the two of you. Whatever it was, neither of you couldn’t care less.

He pulled away. He breathed. You felt his exhale fan across your face. It forced you into laughter. Tucking your head into his chest, you wondered if this moment could last forever.

“Okay?” he asked, delicately running his fingers through your hair. You nodded. He hummed. You shivered. “Cold?”

“Yeah.” you admitted. He slips off his jacket. His pretty leather jacket that you assume he was coerced into buying by Sirius. You were glad, actually, because he looked completely and utterly gorgeous in it. You tugged on the jacket, after he handed it to you. “Thank you.” you mumble, peering up at him. You’d already pulled away from his chest, but you wished you hadn’t. It was comfortable and sweet. You wanted to go home with him. Unfortunately, Glasgow isn’t quite home. “Can we go back?” you asked.

“Back to the bus?”

“Yeah.”

“ ‘Course we can, dove.” he smirked, lopsidedly. Your face flushed. He chuckled quietly, interlinking his hand with your own as you walked. You couldn’t seem to keep your mouth shut for the duration of the walk. Remus hummed, nodded, asked questions and laughed as you rambled. You didn’t think it got better than this. You finished your final sentence about music and grinned up at Remus. He smiled back.

“After the tour, let me take you out, yeah? Somewhere nice, and preferably not in the murder capital of Europe.” he said, smile still on his face. It wasn’t often Remus asked a question spontaneously. His actions were almost always premeditated. However, it was you. He just couldn’t help himself.

“I’d really like that, I think.” you replied. Your eyes crinkled at the corners with how wide you smiled. You bit your tongue; you’d much rather die than let out the squeal of excitement that was brewing.

You had to get through the tour first.

[romancingdaffodils]

midnight loathing 💓

[romancingdaffodils]

shout out to everyone who got the mammalian sighing reflex reference in here hashtag i forgot i wrote this hashtag i don’t remember writing this

You found yourself unable to sleep. Unfamiliar places bring with them a sense of discomfort. Familiar places do not cradle you in their arms anymore. Sleep was a memory of the past and you craved the gentle escape of your dreams. Wishing for change did not bring it, it would only add fuel to the flame of exhaustion.

Remus often found himself in a similar situation. Lack of sleep, lack of energy and lack of will plagued his aching knees. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit harshly down on the inside of his cheek. When sleep could not reach him, he turned to books as a substitute for the dreamland. Books were not as regenerative as sleep, but they kept him going for long enough.

Knock, knock, knock. You wonder if Remus is asleep as you desperately clashed your knuckles against the doorHe is not, and makes it clear when he mumbles a confused ‘come in?’. You sighed as your head collided with his pillows. He hummed, leaning back and turning his head to face you. Your heads shared a pillow.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, though his voice was barely above whisper. You wondered if his eyes could’ve asked for him. They could’ve.

Shaking your head in response, a small grown left your lips. He smiled softly, showing understanding.

“Want something to hold?” he asked, grabbing his jumper from beside the bed. You smiled. He knew you well. Too well, you decided. You shook your head and instead decided his body looked far more appealing. Curving your arms around him, you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Remus didn’t complain. He’d never complain, not about you anyway.

You were just flatmates.

Flatmates that’d known each other since school.

Flatmates, who got a long a bit too well.

Flatmates, who knew each other too well.

And yet, you were still just that.

[romancingdaffodils]

You found yourself unable to sleep. Unfamiliar places bring with them a sense of discomfort. Familiar places do not cradle you in their arms anymore. Sleep was a memory of the past and you craved the gentle escape of your dreams. Wishing for change did not bring it, it would only add fuel to the flame of exhaustion.

Remus often found himself in a similar situation. Lack of sleep, lack of energy and lack of will plagued his aching knees. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit harshly down on the inside of his cheek. When sleep could not reach him, he turned to books as a substitute for the dreamland. Books were not as regenerative as sleep, but they kept him going for long enough.

Knock, knock, knock. You wonder if Remus is asleep as you desperately clashed your knuckles against the doorHe is not, and makes it clear when he mumbles a confused ‘come in?’. You sighed as your head collided with his pillows. He hummed, leaning back and turning his head to face you. Your heads shared a pillow.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, though his voice was barely above whisper. You wondered if his eyes could’ve asked for him. They could’ve.

Shaking your head in response, a small grown left your lips. He smiled softly, showing understanding.

“Want something to hold?” he asked, grabbing his jumper from beside the bed. You smiled. He knew you well. Too well, you decided. You shook your head and instead decided his body looked far more appealing. Curving your arms around him, you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Remus didn’t complain. He’d never complain, not about you anyway.

You were just flatmates.

Flatmates that’d known each other since school.

Flatmates, who got a long a bit too well.

Flatmates, who knew each other too well.

And yet, you were still just that.

[romancingdaffodils]

[romancingdaffodils]

[romancingdaffodils]

i promise i’m alive

[romancingdaffodils]

i love alx

The Dream Synopsis

PREVIOUS PARTS LISTED HERE

All Day and All of the Night

CW- DRUG ABUSE

Alex's head swung back with speed as he sniffed while opening his eyes, feeling the sting shoot through his nostrils. He rubbed the side of his right nostril with his thumb to get any powdery residue off of his nose. It'd been a while since he'd done cocaine. However, he knew how to conduct himself while on it. In this situation, he wasn't just high... also drunk. Alex got drunk before he got high; the forbidden rule. His hands searched his pockets to find his phone: gone. He wandered out to have a look for Miles: gone. They'd gone out to a club together- it was no surprise Miles had disappeared.

Going out for a smoke, Alex's mind wandered to things outside the club. Where was Miles? How's the album actually going? What's going on with Dorothy? All were questions that raced through Alex's mind like F1 racers. He sighed, walking away from the club knowing that he had very little to do there now. The only sensible thought he'd had within the past couple of hours was to go back home. The club wasn't far away- a 10 minute walk. Alex took a drag from the cigarette he'd lit prior; half of it inhaled already. He wore black chelsea boots which clacked along the pavement as he stumbled on his walk back. Black jeans clung to his thighs and his hips swung greatly as he clambered along, taking large strides and wobbling. A white (not so white after the night out) vest adorned his chest and accentuated his biceps and forearms as they were completely on show.

He turned many corners until he arrived at Shangri-La studios. He didn't understand why they did the studio like this. Having the musicians stay on the same plot of land as the studio was just begging for trouble. He looked at Miles' place as he travelled. All the lights were off; he wasn't there. Raising his eyebrows, he walked on, trying to find somewhere to stay. Alex found himself gravitating towards a place he knew he shouldn't go: all the lights were off; it was silent; the door was locked. However, he couldn't stop himself. He drunkenly knocked on the door, his knuckles aching from the force of his knocks. He shook his hand and winced. As he was watching his hurt hand, the door opened in front of him.

"Alex?" Dorothy asked wearily. She'd just woken up. Her hair was astray and her pyjama shorts were ruffled.

"Hey, darlin'," His eyes were barely open and his voice was husky as he spoke, "I- uh..." He raised one eyebrow as he tried to continue to talk, waving his hand around as he did so.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." She understood what Alex was trying to say. Dot walked up to him, putting one of his arms around her shoulder as she started to stabilise him to get him inside. Shutting the door with her foot, she guided him into the living room, out of breath from his weight. He stank of alcohol and cigarettes. God forbid if he was doing anything else, she thought. Lowering him onto the settee, she gazed at him, worried.

"Y'know, love, you're great to me." He looked up at her as he started unzipping his boots clumsily. Dorothy turned on the lamp next to them and inspected Alex. His vest had various sweat patches and alcohol stains in odd spots where he'd obviously spilt something down himself. She also noticed some white powder on a crease of his nose. She sat down next to him.

"Al?" He hummed and looked over to her once he'd finally taken his boots off. He seemed at peace now, in a way. He was sweet and kind of quiet. Just like when they first met, "Nevermind. Put your arms in the air." Alex shut his eyes as he obliged, putting his arms up. Dorothy untucked his vest, he giggled as it tickled his sides, and slid the vest off. She folded the vest and put it on the coffee table in front of the pair.

"You're lovely." Alex smiled. His hand was involuntarily smacking his other arm and his leg bobbed up and down. He was drowsy from the alcohol but still had a kick from the drugs.

"Don't take this the wrong way," She said to Alex. He looked back at her and tilted his head to the side, "I'm gonna take your trousers off. I don't want the settee ruined." His trousers were sticky. Much like his vest, alcohol had been spilt on it. Alex nodded and she unbuttoned the top of his trousers and unzipped the fly, trying not to touch him too much. He bucked his hips so she could drag the dark trousers off his thighs, then his calves, and down to his ankles, and then taking them off completely. Folding the trousers and placing them next to the vest, she stood up and looked down to him.

"Thank you." He looked down, ashamed. He'd been having a range of mood swings. Alex watched Dorothy as she picked up a blanket that was in a bundle behind the door of the living room.

"Lay down. Get comfy," Dot spoke as she unfolded the blanket. Alex laid down and adjusted the cushion to rest under his head perfectly, "Comfy?" She asked. He hummed wearily in reply. Dorothy gently threw the blanket on top of him, adjusting it where it needed to be adjusted so it covered his whole body. She squatted next to the sofa and looked at him with a melancholy expression, "You'd do the same for me, Al. Don't thank me." He frowned and his lip quivered slightly. Dorothy leaned over and kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry." Alex said. Dot shook her head and kissed the top of his head for a second time.

"Don't be. I'm not angry or disappointed. I'm going to get you a glass of water then I'm off to bed, okay?" She stood up, looking down at him to see him nod in reply. Walking over to the kitchen and adjusting the strap of her spaghetti top, she sighed. Dorothy was worried for Alex. Pouring water into a glass, thoughts flooded her mind. She didn't know if he was experienced with cocaine. Dot didn't know if he was an addict. If he was, he hid it well. Shaking her head to stop the thoughts, she placed the glass onto the coffee table. Alex was already asleep, snoring with a frown on his face. Dorothy stuck her bottom lip out and called it quits- deciding to go to bed.

Alex twitched and his eyes shot open. Crackles from the stove awoke the man and he looked around: dazed and confused. A couple of pills and a glass of water on the coffee table seemed almost delicious to him. Dropping two white pills into his mouth, he took a few big gulps of the water to wash them down. A plate was lowered onto the coffee table in front of him, along with a patterned mug with steam erupting from it. Alex looked up at Dorothy. Her hair was wet but she was dressed in a tight fitting top with a pair of naked cowboys on the front and it was tucked into some dark leather trousers. A spiked belt covered her waist and reflected around the room. Dot smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

"Eat. You need food in you." She commanded while walking back into the kitchen to get her own plate. Alex sighed and took the knife and fork, starting to cut into the toast, eggs, and bacon that she'd cooked for him. Dorothy came back, sitting next to Alex and eating the same food.

"I'm sorry for coming here. I must've been really out of it," He looked over to her, taking his first bite, "Fuck this is good." He groaned. Dot giggled next to him.

"It's okay. I don't mind," A silence fell over the pair as they ate, "How long have you been doing cocaine for?" Alex's smile faltered slightly. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.

"Uh, I dunno. Long journey," He replied bluntly, "I was on it then off it. Now it's an occasional thing." He chewed his food some more and took a quick sip of tea.

"I'm not mad. Nor surprised. The music industry is crawling with drugs. But, be safe. You were fucked last night and I don't want you gettin' in dangerous situations." Dorothy's tone turned more sincere at the end of her speech. She cared about Alex. The annoyance from days before faded and turned into worry for the man.

"I'm trying. I really am," Alex replied guiltily. The food was quickly going down, making him more full by the second, "It's just hard sometimes, y'know? I know I've been an arse to ya by being all mardy. I'm sorry." He apologised. Dot took a quick sip of her drink before replying with:

"We don't have to talk about that now. I'd rather know that you're okay."

"I want to talk about it now." Another silence fell between the two. Finished with her meal, Dorothy put her plate on the coffee table and turned to look at him.

"Okay," She sighed, "I'm sorry for the mixed signals. I ain't good with this stuff, Al. Nothin's ever gone right." Alex copied her, putting his plate on the coffee table too. He took a sip of tea before turning back to her.

"I'm sorry too. For a whole multitude of things. I really like you. I think you're proper cool 'nd that," He cringed at himself. He sounded like a teenager, "I just started being a dick in case like... I dunno how to put it. Self defence? Shit's not gone great for me either, unfortunately." Dorothy moved slightly closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about all that." Alex put his arm around her and pulled her into his bare chest more. Dorothy wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled herself in closer too.

"Don't have to be. It's just the way things are sometimes. Not everything has to work out, not at all," The atmosphere was incredibly intimate. They both felt safe and at peace with each other completely. A realm of trust entrapped the pair, "Anyway, it gives me summat to write about." Dot giggled at his joke slightly.

"I stalked Arctic Monkeys," She blurted out. Alex looked down at her questioningly, "I never put two and two together. Didn't realise you were in Arctic Monkeys. I got annoyed at you before and was watching a movie where you did the soundtrack. Miles told me about the soundtrack and I got intrigued. Then, I got more mad at you because I liked the music." Alex let out a hearty laugh at her confession.

"Yeah? What's your favourite then?" He chuckled and jiggled her body jokily. She looked up at him and frowned sarcastically.

"You're So Dark."

"Oh, so you went deep diving into the B-sides as well?" He continued joking. Dorothy went bright red and let out a small 'shut up' before burying her head back into his chest. They were both glad that they were happy again. The small grudges they held against each other hurt them both to an extreme degree.

"You smell." She spoke. It was true, the haze of yesterday still lingered on Alex's body and breath. It created an alcoholic musk.

"I know," Alex groaned and stretched. His clothes from last night were still on the coffee table in front of them, "Can I take a shower?" He asked graciously.

"Please." Alex flashed a fake frown at her and picked up his old clothes before heading upstairs. All the accommodations on the land had the same layout so he knew exactly where he was going. While Alex was having a shower, Dorothy started washing up and refolding the blanket he'd used. She placed his boots by the front door also. She loved the company. She loved being around him more than anything.

Getting herself a glass of water, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a head rest on her shoulder. She turned her head to kiss his cheek. Turning back to her glass, Alex buried his neck into the crook of her neck more and squeezed her closer to him. Dot became fully distracted due to the touch. Both her hands grabbed Alex's, taking them off of her waist so she could swivel around to face him. His eyes scanned her face and landed onto her lips. He pined for her. His hands found her waist again and pulled her in closer. Dorothy's breath hitched as she got pulled. She put a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb in circles, much like she did that night when they shared a bed together. Alex leaned in. Dot reciprocated and their lips touched. The longing for each other suddenly felt more worthwhile than ever. It felt amazing. Their lips had moulded to one another as they gently shared a kiss.

Once they'd pulled away, Dorothy's arms found themselves resting on Alex's shoulders. Using this, she kissed him again, deepening it more and more as she did so. Alex's eyebrows raised but he happily gave the same energy back. He raised her onto the kitchen counter and placed himself between her legs. His right hand found itself leaning against her ribcage, slightly under her chest. He could feel the wiring of her bra. She wrapped her legs around him to slide herself closer, slightly grinding against his body: making him groan. Their mouths and tongues moved in sync, finding all the right spots to kiss and feel.

Alex's phone started to buzz and ring. He moaned mid-kiss and hung up the phone. He frowned, thinking he'd lost his phone the night before. But he was also grateful that he still had it in his possession. Alex turned his attention back to Dorothy, kissing her harder than they previously had been due to frustration. However, the phone rang again and again. He sighed and gave an apologetic look as he removed himself and picked up the phone. Dorothy patiently listened to the murmurs Alex gave in reply to the caller before hanging up for what felt like the 100th time.

"I'm late to the studio," Alex said woefully, "I'm so sorry. I really enjoyed this and I'm so glad we talked." He gave her a quick peck.

"Your shoes are by the door. And, don't worry about it. I understand." They shared one last kiss, longer than the peck they'd shared before as a goodbye. She followed him into the hallway to wave him off. Alex slipped his shoes on and gave her a big hug as a goodbye before leaving without a trace.

Translations

Summat - Something

[romancingdaffodils]

quick reblog to remind u to read this part bcos the next part will be considerably better

Love Kills

City Rockers

part two of Love Kills

bassist/rockstar!Remus Lupin x Reader

warnings: swearing and description of blood

The tension between the two of you only seems to build as Remus faces a rather nasty injury. Naturally, you help him out. He gives his thanks in a rather mind boggling way.

haiii did you miss me AGAIN xoxo

thank you so much alex for alll your help on this one means a lot :3

Often it’s said that punks are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Terrifying on the outside, but lovely on the inside. Clearly, when put into a venue, this philosophy completely disappears. The gig goers habits of unplugging amps and launching glass bottles didn’t seem too lovely at all. In fact, you were quite against the whole idea or at least you were after the incident. However, it could make nights a whole lot interesting. It was what also led to the instruction of don’t get hit. Which then allowed, Remus to completely disobey this command. As a result of this, blood poured down his face. Surged, gushed, streamed. A bottle had collided directly with his head and had clearly left him with with an injury directly above his eye. The crowd went silent before erupting into even louder cheers. Freezing in shock, the soon-to-be-blood soaked man stared directly into the crowd. Immediately, James stopped singing and whipped his head around to the noise. Which, in turn, caused both Sirius and Pete to turn and look over at Remus. Another bang signified the speakers blowing and as the boys started up playing again to try to kill the time, it suddenly dawned on everyone. Amps had been unplugged too; fans had taken the band’s distraction with Remus as an opportunity. Worst first show ever. Praying to whatever gods to give him strength, Remus picked up playing again as Frank rushed around plugging the amps back in.

Anxiously, you bit down on the inside of your cheek as the band pushed through everything going wrong at once. Thankfully, Alice had managed to fix up the speakers relatively fast and was now stood beside you with a similar distressed look on her face. Unfortunately, the man’s determination to continue playing didn’t stop the bleeding. It was everywhere.

Red poppies turned into bloody rivers as the white vest he was wearing became soaked. He had discarded his outer layer of a jumper at some point during the first song, leaving his perfect arms on display. Now hardly seemed like the right time to be thinking about that though. But, your brain didn’t really seem to listen.

Some of the red liquid had caught in the hair that drifted down towards his eyebrows. Drying up in the sandy tuffs, the blood would be difficult to get out; part of you wanted to drag him off stage and patch him up there and then. Push a small kiss to his forehead, and rinse the blood out of his hair. The rest of the substance had meandered at what felt like the speed of light all the way down to his bass. After staining his white clothes it moved onto the white pick-guard on the body of the long instrument. Somehow, Remus seemed to have picked the worst colours for this to happen. Or, you might argue - if he wasn’t a friend in pain - the best colours because he looked practically edible. On a bad day, he looked positively gorgeous. There, he looked like everything you’d ever wanted and more. You’d never felt more guilty for having a crush on someone before then.

Droplets dribbled down from the bass onto the floor and your eyes finally moved to Remus’s face. You’d been able to look at the area of the wound as you found yourself quite fearful it would be serious. Half of his face was doused in blood and one eye was screwed shut, leaving him in a permanent wink. Thankfully, your gushing over Remus had made the show move a lot faster and the end of the encore ripped through everyone: crowd, band and roadies.

Remus was the first off stage.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Remus.” you exclaimed, grabbing hold of his wrist to get him to stop moving. The gushing blood was forcing him into a permanent wink and you winced just looking at the gash. “Sit down, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Fucking hell.” you said, pushing him down onto the couch. Surprisingly, he didn’t fight back. Now, it was your time to scramble. You ran down the corridor and yanked the first aid kit from the cupboard before immediately running back. Crouching down in front of him, you gave your best relaxed smile. He tried his best to return it. Your mind seemed to be a swirling mess of thoughts of how gorgeous Remus actually was and thoughts of how on earth you were going to clean this cut up.

“How bad are we thinking?” he asked, wincing as he spoke. He already had a rather impressive collection of scars dotted around his body; you figured this was nothing new to him.

“Dunno yet, you alright if I clean it up?” you asked, blue paper towels ready and waiting. He nodded his head and you stood up. Slotting yourself between his legs, you used the damp towel to wipe away the blood that had dripped down his face. It was an odd texture, like partially dried nail varnish.

You stared at the cut, checking for any shards of the glass bottle. None were there from what you could see, thank god. They must’ve fallen out during the performance. “So they just, throw bottles? At you? On stage?” you asked, trying to keep him talking as you applied a small amount of pressure. Thankfully, most of the bleeding had stopped by now; it was just a game of preventing the gash from getting infected.

“And unplug amps, and don’t make us famous enough for a better venue. Fuckin’ shit hole.” he replied, staring up at you through his eyelashes. With all the blood cleaned away from his face, he looked up at you with both eyes wide open. You shook your head, giggling quietly. Armed with an antiseptic soaked cotton wool ball, you began cleaning the actual cut

“Sorry, know it stings. Talk to me about something, anything.” his comfort was your top priority. He smiled up at you, shaking his head.

“Know what you’re trying to do, love, don’t need to. You’re not stupid, you can tell I’ve been through this before.” he said, smirking up at you. Resisting the urge to wipe the smug look from his face, you instead give a large frown.

“Just trying to be nice, let me be nice.” you complained, biting down on your lip as you continued to clean the wound.

“You’re being nice enough already.” he stated, plainly.

“You’re so lovely Remus!” you shouted over the bar’s blaring music. A hiccup ricocheted through your body as you giggled up at him.

“Yeah, you want me to get you some water?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at you. Sirius really did always keep his best friends hidden from everywhere else. Remus was entirely certain that the fact he hadn’t met you before that night should be a crime, so much so that he’d never forgive Sirius for it.

“No! You’re being nice enough already.” you stated, staring up at him blankly. He shook his head, but didn’t disobey your command. He thought he might die on the spot if he left you any sooner than needed.

Your face flushed at the sound of your own words being repeated back at you and the fact Remus remembered word for word what you had said to him. He grinned. You frowned.

“Butterfly strips now, aren’t they cute? They’re like stitches but not stitches, dead new too. I thought Sirius would get in a bar fight or something, that’s why I brought them with me, not that you’d be scrapping with glass bottles.” you rambled as you dug around in the tote bag beside you. Some gut instinct had told you to pack them and it must’ve be whatever gut instinct had you swooning over Remus.

“Yeah? They are pretty impressive.” he replied. His eyes held a hint of honesty he’d never admit as he admired your rambling. Remus Lupin could listen to you talk for hours. Remus Lupin, who preferred to spend his pre-show routine alone in silence; who adored the quiet of libraries and the very slight hum of a small cafe; who often had to put himself at the back of the tour bus just to get some peace would happily listen to you babble on about whatever nonsense.

“I know, right? ‘s so cool how they come up with these things. Right, this bit will genuinely hurt so, I’m really sorry in advance.” you said, giving him a sheepish grin. If the antiseptic was the foot soldiers, think of the butterfly strips as being the artillery. Carefully, you slotted yourself back in between his legs. Your hand pushed the two edges of the cut together whilst the other stuck the strips over the stop, a way of holding the wound together. Instinctively, Remus’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist, eyes closing at the pain.

“All done.” you whispered, but his hand didn’t move from your wrist. Your eyes drifted down to his own as you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” he whispered back to you. His eyes mapped out a triangle on your face, subconsciously. He truly could not get enough; his hand still didn’t move. The silence in the room was unbearable and you were silently begging Remus to do something. Anything. He must’ve heard your pleas somehow because he stood up.

If you weren’t close enough to him before you almost certainly were now. The only thing separating the two of you was his looming height and even then that wasn’t doing much as his head was tilted down. You couldn’t read Remus. The now three very dramatic times you’d met, you’d never been able to read him.

“Happy birthday Sirius!” you shouted as you waltzed into the Potter household. It was your first time there, ever and my god was the place gorgeous. It was easy to forget how privileged one half of the band were. Sirius had grown up rich with a shitty family and in many ways James had won the game of life. Good family with lots and lots of money, which explained the oversized house that sat in the middle of nowhere.

“Awww, thank you. Look how lovely they are.” Sirius said, taking the gift from your hands and immediately running off to open it. ‘Child’ you thought to yourself as you smiled.

“Hello you.” Remus waved as you walked over to the kitchen counter, where everyone else stood. You didn’t notice it, but Lily raised her eyebrow and whispered something to James. The two stared at you and Remus for the rest of the night. He didn’t speak to anyone, but you.

“Hi. Don’t look at me like that.” you said, scowling up at him. He laughed and put his hands up beside his head with a false offended look.

“Look at you like what?” Remus fought back, though his smirk and small gave away what he was thinking. Or, at least you thought it did. He was referencing your drunkenness on the first night you met with that look, Right? You racked your brains, staring up at him with your mouth agape.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” you admitted, still looking up at him. He shook his head and gave another smirk.

“Do you need to?” he replied.

He still had a hold on your wrist and something in your stomach twisted. Your mind was blank and everything just felt fuzzy.

“Thank you, really.” he mumbled as his head moved in even closer. His thumb drew small circles on the inside of your wrist.

“Yeah, no- no problem. Honestly, like it’s nothing, I’d happily do it any time.” you rambled, giving him a small grin and your stomach twinged from embarrassment this time. He grinned and let out a small chuckle. You felt his breath fan against your jaw. You bit down on your lip

“Oh, hey guys.” James announced from the doorway. Your head whipped round immediately as you took a step backwards. Wide eyed and horrified, you gulped. Remus seemed, perpetually, unbothered.

“Hi, Prongs.” he returned, pointing to the cut on his head. “All fixed up now, wasn’t too bad.” he added, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah, all fixed up. Can see that. We’re going down to the pub to go have a celebratory drink tomorrow, we’ve got a day here to kill. Think you’ll be up for it?” James asked, looking at both of you. You nodded, sheepishly once again. You knew he knew. He knew you knew. It was an awful trap to be stuck in.

“Sounds good.” Remus said, nodding his head and grabbing his bag from beside the couch. “ ‘m gonna go get changed, see you later, yeah?” he added, looking at you. Only you. And then, he walked off. It felt like you’d been left dangling off of the edge of a cliff.

“Please can I tell Si-“

“Fuck off, James.”

“What about Lily??”

“Maybe.”

[romancingdaffodils]

gyrating mention

The Dream Synopsis

Part 1 - Saturday’s Kids

Part 2 - Room on Fire

Part 3 - Charlie Don’t Surf

Part 4 - Coma Girl

Rudy, A Message To You

Hips swinging and arms flowing- Alex sang into the microphone with ease. His eyebrows jumped up and down as he expressed each word he was saying extravagantly. Dorothy's eyes scanned his body as he was grinding up against the recording equipment as he danced. She was fixated: her mouth slightly agape; eyes wide; sat up straight. Dot was totally and utterly focussed on Alex's movements rather than his singing. Miles sat on an armchair next to her and smirked at her infatuation with Alex. He couldn't recall the last time she blinked or even breathed within the last 15 minutes.

"Dot," James turned around and she finally blinked to look at her older brother, "Could you maybe go out and grab some drinks and try and find some new headphones from Best Buy? I'm worried about Alex fucking up the headphones we are using. His... gyrating is dangerous." Jim joked to her. Dot tried to contain her laugh as she nodded and got up.

"Alco or boring?" She asked, grabbing her leather jacket as she opened the door to the studio.

"Boring, cheers." Dot shut the door behind her and lodged earphones into her ears. The closest shop was a 7-Eleven and the Best Buy was 15 minutes away. Not a far journey at all but she wondered why her lazy brother couldn't let Alex and Miles take a break while he goes and gets the items himself. They'd been recording 'Used To Be My Girl' for hours on end. Clicking on her phone, she selected her playlist of favourite songs. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles began to play as she strolled along. It was a pleasant day in sunny Malibu which always seemed to put a smile on Dot's face- an extreme juxtaposition to how she dresses.

In 7-Eleven, she picked up a case of red Coca-Cola bottles and took it up to the till, giving the worker a short smile. He scanned the case and gave Dorothy a questionable glance: "Aren't you that girl going around with the Arctic Monkeys dude?"

"Uhh, what?" She quickly lied, getting cash notes out even though he hadn't told her what she had to pay yet.

"Y'know what... Don't worry," He replied bluntly, "That'll be $18.99, please." Dorothy handed him two $10 notes. Due to picking up a 24 pack of coke, Dorothy decided to take two trips so her arm wouldn't drop off by the time she got to Best Buy.

The door crashed open and James looked at her angrily before realising how many drinks she'd actually got, "Well, this is a sight." He mused.

"Fuck off, I'll load up the mini fridge." She gave a smile to Miles who was now in the recording booth. Gently lowering the pack onto the floor by the mini fridge, she started unloading each bottle one by one. Dorothy felt a body sit down next to her and a familiar scent wafted her way.

"I'll help." Alex smiled. Dorothy returned a toothy grin with a slight blush as a thank you. They started unloading each bottle into the fridge one after the other. Dot reached over to the last bottle and met Alex's hand as she went to grab it. Alex gave her a slight look and she immediately retracted her hand, letting out a small 'sorry' after. He gave her a reassuring smile back and after putting the final bottle back, rubbed her back soothingly. A click came from the door lock behind the two and Miles walked in. Alex's hand stopped movement but remained on her back.

"You alright... Lovers..?" Miles trailed off and looked down to Alex's hand. Alex slowly withdrew his hand and cleared his throat.

"I'm... going to get those headphones now," Dorothy whispered and stood up, walking past Miles who gave her a small wink. After she shut the door behind her, she heard Miles exclaiming:

"Go on son, knew you had it in you!"

And Alex replying with:

"Fuck off, Miles. You ruined it- you sneaky prat."

She giggled to herself and started to walk to Best Buy. The issue with that was that there weren't any hidden streets she could take to avoid the public, unlike her trip to 7-Eleven... she was in the open. Dot's eyes darted around, paranoid of the paparazzi. After 5 minutes, she sighed at the fact no one was looking at her and her anxiety over the matter calmed down.

However, a couple streets away from Best Buy- the first set of flashing lights went off. Then another. And another. Non-stop. Questions bombarded the girl from every angle and she had nowhere to turn. Dorothy stumbled over any word she tried to say and the lights continued, stunning her each time. Every time she tried to make a way out, someone would step in front of her without fail. She was terrified. Her senses were completely overstimulated and Dot just wanted to run away. Then, suddenly, she saw an opening. Dorothy darted. She ran the way she came and tears pricked her eyes and rolled towards her temples and into her ebony hair as she sprinted.

She made it back to the grassy area she'd gotten so used to over the past few days. She stopped, for the first time in what felt like years, and started to get her breath back. She bent over to put her hands on her knees and let out heavy huffs and small sobs. Eventually, she looked up to the sky and let out one last big sigh before heading back to the studio to tell James about the headphones she was unable to acquire. Dorothy knew the last thing her brother would be was mad... at least, not at her. He'd be frustrated but there was nothing she could've done to get the paparazzi away.

Alex looked up as the door opened slowly. He peered at the girl who had mascara stains going into her hair and down her cheeks. Miles stood up immediately, giving her a hug and speaking soothing comments without asking what happened first. She accepted the hug straight away and swayed with Miles. A guilty pang of jealousy ruptured throughout Alex's conscience. He knew for a fact it was completely selfish to be jealous of the situation and felt sick to his stomach that he was even feeling it. Dot eventually separated from Miles and looked over to her brother.

"I couldn't get the headphones. I'm sorry." James let out a sigh and gave her a smile.

"I gathered that. Paparazzi? The NME can't get enough of you." He joked to lighten the mood. She gave a small nod and Alex felt even worse. He couldn't help but to think that it was his fault. James excused himself and took yet another phone call outside.

"Hey, Dot," Miles started, "You don't have to say yes, we'd understand why you wouldn't but... do you wanna come to a restaurant with us later? It's not fancy or anything like that so none of us will need to change." Alex looked over at Dorothy who was standing up awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah, actually. It might make me feel a bit better." She smiled at the two. James came bursting back into the room after finishing the phone call.

"Sorry, you two, people have cancelled on me today... so that's a wrap. Enjoy your evening." The pair nodded and walked out with Dorothy hastily. Her face still felt sticky and her cheeks still heated up from the events earlier.

"Where are we going?" She asked quietly. She was only an inch shorter than Alex and a couple shorter than Miles. She still felt towered over somehow.

"See, the mystery is the fun of it." Miles replied sneakily. She let out a tiny giggle. Dorothy felt her hand brush against Alex's. She looked over at him. He avoided eye contact by looking down. She sighed and took initiative by grabbing onto his hand semi-forcefully, making a statement.

The trio continued to walk, Miles leading the conversation and the others would occasionally chime in. They were walking through small alleyways and quiet pathways. They occasionally walked into some couples but other than that... It was silent. It was peaceful for Dot. She gets overwhelmed easily. She didn't understand how paparazzi think it's humane to be so pushy with others. Distracting Dorothy from her thoughts, Miles opened a door to a small Chinese restaurant. Red lights gave the place a more dingy yet cosy atmosphere. This was exactly what Dorothy needed to distract herself.

Miles went ahead and ordered dishes for the party. They were going to share food around. As he was talking to the waitress, Alex's hand slithered on top of Dorothy's (as the pair were sat opposite Miles). His fingers entwined with her's. It felt like a sorry message to her for the incident that had occurred earlier. He squeezed her hand lightly and took a sip of water using his free hand. Dorothy frowned. She didn't understand what was going on with her and Alex. They'd never talked about feelings. Dorothy felt stuck. She enjoyed the gestures Alex had been giving her but they barely even knew anything about each other.

"I'm going out for a smoke," Alex announced, staring Dorothy down. She sighed and got up with him, knowing what he was hinting at, "We'll only be a minute." Alex held the door open for her as they left.

"What's up?" Dorothy asked, oblivious. Alex motioned his pack of cigarettes towards her and she took one happily, lodging it between her lips and lighting it at the end.

"I'm sorry about the paparazzi," He looked over at her; apologetically. He took a puff of his cigarette before turning to her to talk again, "Do you need to talk about it?"

"Uhm, no. Thank you," She replied slowly, "But, I have a question about summing different." Dot looked into his eyes and he frowned a little.

"Go on."

"What are we? I mean, we are really touchy but we don't know much about each other. I guess I'm just confused." She looked down in shame. They'd known each other for about a week and they were already involved with one another. She didn't know how it started or why they both kept feeding into it. It was like second nature.

"Honestly, Dot... I'm equally as confused as you are," She frowned at him, "You showed affection first and I was confused." Alex sighed.

"Then why did you carry on giving me attention when you didn't even know what was going on yourself? Why didn't you say anything?" Her eyes shot back up to him again as they talked. She wasn't angry with Alex. Just disappointed and concerned.

"I dunno. I liked the affection. I thought you did too." Dorothy frowned. Why had Alex suddenly become dismissive? Had she offended him?

"I'm sorry. What? I liked the affection. I just wanted to know if there was anything more," Dot's eyes darted around to anywhere that wasn't Alex as she rambled on, "This is stupid, we've only known each other for less than a week." She glared at Alex.

"Yeah, maybe," He mumbled; looking at the ground, "Let's go back inside." She huffed and walked in front of him. Impatiently holding the door open for Alex, fury raged inside her. Dorothy wasn't annoyed that nothing was happening between them. It was the fact that Alex could brush things off or be so ignorant to others when it came to stuff like that. She didn't understand.

After a very awkward dinner with Alex and Miles, Dorothy thumped herself onto her sofa and turned the TV on. Flicking through various movie channels, she landed on a title: Submarine. A Welsh film about fleeting adolescence. The main character, Oliver, had an awkward relationship with everyone around him- something that Dot could relate to. His foreign accent was starting to drift her off to sleep after she'd flopped a patchwork blanket over her body. However, this comforting aura was interrupted by obnoxious knocks on the front door. Dorothy groaned and rolled herself off the sofa, scratching her head as she walked to the front door. Upon opening it; she was met with Miles.

"Hello, 'ello." Miles beamed at her. He hadn't changed out of his jeans and Italian football t-shirt from earlier when they were recording.

"Hi," Dot's voice croaked as she rubbed her eye, "Come in." She stood to the side to let the taller man in. Closing the door behind him, she followed Miles into her living room. It was dark and had a sombre aura in the room. Miles had noticed that as soon as he walked in. He plopped onto the settee and Dot copied him, sitting as well.

"Not that it's any of my business," Dorothy hummed as Miles' babbling started, "Alex seemed properly peeved. Did summat happen? I don't wanna invade privacy, you know me, love. I'm just looking out for me mates." His bottom lip jutted out in sympathy as she sighed over his short speech.

"I mean, sort of. I asked him what was going on because," She paused for a second before continuing, trying to be careful with her words, "We'd been getting closer and closer as each day passed, y'know? I just wanted to know the man's bloody stance on the matter. But, no, he had to give the most fuckin' insensitive response of: 'I dunno'." She said, mimicking Alex's voice and waving her hands around in anger.

"He ain't good with words, is he?" Miles chuckled a little bit, "He might talk to you eventually. Don't lose hope," He looked over at the TV screen as he spoke, "You'll get a decent answer out of Al. Give him time, love." Miles smiled at Dorothy sweetly. She sighed and looked down guiltily.

"Maybe I were too harsh," She murmured, "Thanks, Miles. I'll keep everything more 'professional' with him until he speaks. You reckon that'll be alright?" She peered over at the man who'd now been distracted by the television again.

"Yeah, that'll work for him," Miles looked over at Dorothy then back to the screen in front of the pair, "Y'know, Al did the soundtrack for this film." He started giggling at Dorothy as her mouth suddenly hung wide open in awe. Alex was a mystery box full of surprises.

TRANSLATIONS

Alco - Alcohol

Prat - Idiot

Summat/summing - something

MUSIC RECOMMENDATIONS FOR MENTIONED BANDS

The Beatles - Here, There and Everywhere

[romancingdaffodils]

Love Kills

City Rockers

part two of Love Kills

bassist/rockstar!Remus Lupin x Reader

warnings: swearing and description of blood

The tension between the two of you only seems to build as Remus faces a rather nasty injury. Naturally, you help him out. He gives his thanks in a rather mind boggling way.

haiii did you miss me AGAIN xoxo

thank you so much alex for alll your help on this one means a lot :3

Often it’s said that punks are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Terrifying on the outside, but lovely on the inside. Clearly, when put into a venue, this philosophy completely disappears. The gig goers habits of unplugging amps and launching glass bottles didn’t seem too lovely at all. In fact, you were quite against the whole idea or at least you were after the incident. However, it could make nights a whole lot interesting. It was what also led to the instruction of don’t get hit. Which then allowed, Remus to completely disobey this command. As a result of this, blood poured down his face. Surged, gushed, streamed. A bottle had collided directly with his head and had clearly left him with with an injury directly above his eye. The crowd went silent before erupting into even louder cheers. Freezing in shock, the soon-to-be-blood soaked man stared directly into the crowd. Immediately, James stopped singing and whipped his head around to the noise. Which, in turn, caused both Sirius and Pete to turn and look over at Remus. Another bang signified the speakers blowing and as the boys started up playing again to try to kill the time, it suddenly dawned on everyone. Amps had been unplugged too; fans had taken the band’s distraction with Remus as an opportunity. Worst first show ever. Praying to whatever gods to give him strength, Remus picked up playing again as Frank rushed around plugging the amps back in.

Anxiously, you bit down on the inside of your cheek as the band pushed through everything going wrong at once. Thankfully, Alice had managed to fix up the speakers relatively fast and was now stood beside you with a similar distressed look on her face. Unfortunately, the man’s determination to continue playing didn’t stop the bleeding. It was everywhere.

Red poppies turned into bloody rivers as the white vest he was wearing became soaked. He had discarded his outer layer of a jumper at some point during the first song, leaving his perfect arms on display. Now hardly seemed like the right time to be thinking about that though. But, your brain didn’t really seem to listen.

Some of the red liquid had caught in the hair that drifted down towards his eyebrows. Drying up in the sandy tuffs, the blood would be difficult to get out; part of you wanted to drag him off stage and patch him up there and then. Push a small kiss to his forehead, and rinse the blood out of his hair. The rest of the substance had meandered at what felt like the speed of light all the way down to his bass. After staining his white clothes it moved onto the white pick-guard on the body of the long instrument. Somehow, Remus seemed to have picked the worst colours for this to happen. Or, you might argue - if he wasn’t a friend in pain - the best colours because he looked practically edible. On a bad day, he looked positively gorgeous. There, he looked like everything you’d ever wanted and more. You’d never felt more guilty for having a crush on someone before then.

Droplets dribbled down from the bass onto the floor and your eyes finally moved to Remus’s face. You’d been able to look at the area of the wound as you found yourself quite fearful it would be serious. Half of his face was doused in blood and one eye was screwed shut, leaving him in a permanent wink. Thankfully, your gushing over Remus had made the show move a lot faster and the end of the encore ripped through everyone: crowd, band and roadies.

Remus was the first off stage.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Remus.” you exclaimed, grabbing hold of his wrist to get him to stop moving. The gushing blood was forcing him into a permanent wink and you winced just looking at the gash. “Sit down, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Fucking hell.” you said, pushing him down onto the couch. Surprisingly, he didn’t fight back. Now, it was your time to scramble. You ran down the corridor and yanked the first aid kit from the cupboard before immediately running back. Crouching down in front of him, you gave your best relaxed smile. He tried his best to return it. Your mind seemed to be a swirling mess of thoughts of how gorgeous Remus actually was and thoughts of how on earth you were going to clean this cut up.

“How bad are we thinking?” he asked, wincing as he spoke. He already had a rather impressive collection of scars dotted around his body; you figured this was nothing new to him.

“Dunno yet, you alright if I clean it up?” you asked, blue paper towels ready and waiting. He nodded his head and you stood up. Slotting yourself between his legs, you used the damp towel to wipe away the blood that had dripped down his face. It was an odd texture, like partially dried nail varnish.

You stared at the cut, checking for any shards of the glass bottle. None were there from what you could see, thank god. They must’ve fallen out during the performance. “So they just, throw bottles? At you? On stage?” you asked, trying to keep him talking as you applied a small amount of pressure. Thankfully, most of the bleeding had stopped by now; it was just a game of preventing the gash from getting infected.

“And unplug amps, and don’t make us famous enough for a better venue. Fuckin’ shit hole.” he replied, staring up at you through his eyelashes. With all the blood cleaned away from his face, he looked up at you with both eyes wide open. You shook your head, giggling quietly. Armed with an antiseptic soaked cotton wool ball, you began cleaning the actual cut

“Sorry, know it stings. Talk to me about something, anything.” his comfort was your top priority. He smiled up at you, shaking his head.

“Know what you’re trying to do, love, don’t need to. You’re not stupid, you can tell I’ve been through this before.” he said, smirking up at you. Resisting the urge to wipe the smug look from his face, you instead give a large frown.

“Just trying to be nice, let me be nice.” you complained, biting down on your lip as you continued to clean the wound.

“You’re being nice enough already.” he stated, plainly.

“You’re so lovely Remus!” you shouted over the bar’s blaring music. A hiccup ricocheted through your body as you giggled up at him.

“Yeah, you want me to get you some water?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at you. Sirius really did always keep his best friends hidden from everywhere else. Remus was entirely certain that the fact he hadn’t met you before that night should be a crime, so much so that he’d never forgive Sirius for it.

“No! You’re being nice enough already.” you stated, staring up at him blankly. He shook his head, but didn’t disobey your command. He thought he might die on the spot if he left you any sooner than needed.

Your face flushed at the sound of your own words being repeated back at you and the fact Remus remembered word for word what you had said to him. He grinned. You frowned.

“Butterfly strips now, aren’t they cute? They’re like stitches but not stitches, dead new too. I thought Sirius would get in a bar fight or something, that’s why I brought them with me, not that you’d be scrapping with glass bottles.” you rambled as you dug around in the tote bag beside you. Some gut instinct had told you to pack them and it must’ve be whatever gut instinct had you swooning over Remus.

“Yeah? They are pretty impressive.” he replied. His eyes held a hint of honesty he’d never admit as he admired your rambling. Remus Lupin could listen to you talk for hours. Remus Lupin, who preferred to spend his pre-show routine alone in silence; who adored the quiet of libraries and the very slight hum of a small cafe; who often had to put himself at the back of the tour bus just to get some peace would happily listen to you babble on about whatever nonsense.

“I know, right? ‘s so cool how they come up with these things. Right, this bit will genuinely hurt so, I’m really sorry in advance.” you said, giving him a sheepish grin. If the antiseptic was the foot soldiers, think of the butterfly strips as being the artillery. Carefully, you slotted yourself back in between his legs. Your hand pushed the two edges of the cut together whilst the other stuck the strips over the stop, a way of holding the wound together. Instinctively, Remus’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist, eyes closing at the pain.

“All done.” you whispered, but his hand didn’t move from your wrist. Your eyes drifted down to his own as you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” he whispered back to you. His eyes mapped out a triangle on your face, subconsciously. He truly could not get enough; his hand still didn’t move. The silence in the room was unbearable and you were silently begging Remus to do something. Anything. He must’ve heard your pleas somehow because he stood up.

If you weren’t close enough to him before you almost certainly were now. The only thing separating the two of you was his looming height and even then that wasn’t doing much as his head was tilted down. You couldn’t read Remus. The now three very dramatic times you’d met, you’d never been able to read him.

“Happy birthday Sirius!” you shouted as you waltzed into the Potter household. It was your first time there, ever and my god was the place gorgeous. It was easy to forget how privileged one half of the band were. Sirius had grown up rich with a shitty family and in many ways James had won the game of life. Good family with lots and lots of money, which explained the oversized house that sat in the middle of nowhere.

“Awww, thank you. Look how lovely they are.” Sirius said, taking the gift from your hands and immediately running off to open it. ‘Child’ you thought to yourself as you smiled.

“Hello you.” Remus waved as you walked over to the kitchen counter, where everyone else stood. You didn’t notice it, but Lily raised her eyebrow and whispered something to James. The two stared at you and Remus for the rest of the night. He didn’t speak to anyone, but you.

“Hi. Don’t look at me like that.” you said, scowling up at him. He laughed and put his hands up beside his head with a false offended look.

“Look at you like what?” Remus fought back, though his smirk and small gave away what he was thinking. Or, at least you thought it did. He was referencing your drunkenness on the first night you met with that look, Right? You racked your brains, staring up at him with your mouth agape.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” you admitted, still looking up at him. He shook his head and gave another smirk.

“Do you need to?” he replied.

He still had a hold on your wrist and something in your stomach twisted. Your mind was blank and everything just felt fuzzy.

“Thank you, really.” he mumbled as his head moved in even closer. His thumb drew small circles on the inside of your wrist.

“Yeah, no- no problem. Honestly, like it’s nothing, I’d happily do it any time.” you rambled, giving him a small grin and your stomach twinged from embarrassment this time. He grinned and let out a small chuckle. You felt his breath fan against your jaw. You bit down on your lip

“Oh, hey guys.” James announced from the doorway. Your head whipped round immediately as you took a step backwards. Wide eyed and horrified, you gulped. Remus seemed, perpetually, unbothered.

“Hi, Prongs.” he returned, pointing to the cut on his head. “All fixed up now, wasn’t too bad.” he added, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah, all fixed up. Can see that. We’re going down to the pub to go have a celebratory drink tomorrow, we’ve got a day here to kill. Think you’ll be up for it?” James asked, looking at both of you. You nodded, sheepishly once again. You knew he knew. He knew you knew. It was an awful trap to be stuck in.

“Sounds good.” Remus said, nodding his head and grabbing his bag from beside the couch. “ ‘m gonna go get changed, see you later, yeah?” he added, looking at you. Only you. And then, he walked off. It felt like you’d been left dangling off of the edge of a cliff.

“Please can I tell Si-“

“Fuck off, James.”

“What about Lily??”

“Maybe.”

[romancingdaffodils]

The Dream Synopsis

Part 1 - Saturday’s Kids

Part 2 - Room on Fire

Part 3 - Charlie Don’t surf

Coma Girl

Alex sat with his legs shoulder-width apart, staring into a black notepad. A couple lines were full of scribbles and rewritten words in capitalisations. Everything Alex was writing didn't seem to fit. There was no passion in it to him; there was no inspiration. He let out a heavy huff and wiped his hands along his light grey shorts as they were starting to sweat with the heat of Malibu. His eyes scanned the page, squinting after. None of it was making sense to him in the slightest and Alex had started to lose hope due to that. He had one day off from recording this week and he decided to trap himself inside, wearing comfy clothes, and trying to write songs. Alas, it wasn't going well.

A small knock echoed throughout the building. Alex checked his watch; confused. He wasn't expecting company any time soon. Assuming if anyone was going to knock, it'd be Miles. His comfy clothes weren't exactly presentable: a white vest; light grey shorts; white socks. Alex hoped it was Miles because of this. Feet shuffling along the wood floor, he opened the door lazily. Brown eyes met a pair of anxious green ones. Alex tilted his head to the side and frowned at Dorothy. She looked like she usually did- 70s style and smudged makeup... just with a worried expression. He let her in. Dot slipped off her boots and walked into his living room. Silence.

"Uhm... would you like some tea?" Alex asked as she sat down. Dorothy looked up at him and shook her head. She motioned for him to sit next to her. He was beyond confused.

"Alex, you know when we went to that bar?" He nodded as he listened, "The photos are in the papers and tabloids. They've already found out who I am and they're spreading unreasonable rumours about us." Dorothy's lip quivered as she told him.

"I'm sorry. This happens to me a lot and I should've been more mindful about going out in public with someone new straight away. We can't do much about it, Dot." He reached out and held her hand, starting to rub soothing circles on her skin with his thumb.

"Don't be sorry. I'm not regretful of the night. In fact, I had a lot of fun," She beamed at him. Her hands were cold and her body was vibrating due to anxiety, "I'm a really big control freak. It's more of the fact that I can't control what's being said." She looked into Alex's eyes, desperate for more comfort.

"It'll be okay. Honestly, try and pay as little attention to them as possible. If you have the chance to not look, take it." He smiled. Dot gave a small simper back and lightly rested her head on his shoulder.

"What were you doing before I came here?" She asked, moving her head slightly onto his chest to listen to his heart, "Sorry, is this okay? I find heartbeats comforting... it'll calm me down." Alex nodded and she got more comfortable on his chest. In turn, he moved arm from holding her hand to putting his arm around her curled up body.

"Trying to write. Important word in that sentence was 'trying'," Alex tittered, "I don't feel very inspired to write at the moment." His eyes made contact with the notepad that was sitting on top of the white coffee table in front of the pair.

"I always used to watch documentaries to inspire my writing. Back when I would write, anyway." She spoke into his chest, making goosebumps appear with the sudden heat of her voice.

"What would you write about?" He looked down to her and reached over to the television remote with his free arm.

"What's going on, really. In the world and my personal life. I didn't really have any limits. Y'know, one day I'm shitting on the prime minister and the next I'm shitting on my ex." She giggled. Alex started flicking through channels aimlessly.

"Maybe I should branch out. I only really talk about relationships and sex."

"Nothing wrong with that. Writing about sex is fun," Alex raised his eyebrows," Oh! The Future Is Unwritten! That's a great documentary." Dot pointed at the TV and he smiled while flicking down and clicking on the channel to watch it.

"What's this?" He questioned, setting the remote down onto the settee.

"Documentary about Joe Strummer. It might get you going. Seeing as it's music related and all." Alex hummed in reply.

"You really like the guy, don't you?" Alex giggled. He respected the love for Joe Strummer. Even if he didn't know a whole lot about the guy.

"He's important to me. Keep up, Al," She replied sarcastically, "He were good looking, weren't he? Shame barely anyone actually knows about this documentary."

"Hey, I don't swing that way," He laughed, "Can you pass me that pen, please?" Dot nodded and gave it to him. He clumsily wrote 'This stunning documentary that no one else unfortunately saw. Such beautiful photography, it's worth it for the opening scene.' onto his non-dominant hand.

"Is the documentary working, then?" She asked, sleepily.

"Very much so. You're a lifesaver, Dot."

"You know me. Also, are you sure you don't swing that way?" She looked up at him with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Oh, the cheek on you, love." She giggled as he glared at her, full of sarcasm.

They sat and watched the documentary for the remainder of the air time it got. It'd started to get dark outside and the two were weary. Alex enjoyed the affection he was getting from Dot. Touch was definitely his main love language. Even though he could write 100 different ways of saying 'I love you'... he always found it hard to muster up the words to actually articulate his feelings in a conversation. The only issue he had with touch was that he couldn't tell if it was romantic or not. A hug, a cuddle, or even a kiss could be a friendly thing. Dot's eyelids were getting heavier by the second and her leg had moved over more onto Alex's body for comfort. She was clinging on like a koala and the only thing keeping Alex awake were the mixed signals from Dot.

He moved his arm to touch her dark hair. He stroked the strands; mindful of the tangles and curls that sat on her head. Alex's pupils were dilated and his cheeks were rosy as his hands went back and forth along different strands of hair. Dot hummed in satisfaction from the touch, making Alex's cheeks heat up more.

"It's getting late." Dot vocalised, her voice being extremely croaky. A different documentary had come on the TV by now.

"Mmm, no. Comfy." Alex slurred as he continued brushing his fingers against her hair softly. She tilted her head to look at him. Alex's eyes were barely open and grey bags under his eyes were starting to become more evident.

"You need to go to bed, Al." He shook his head and moved Dot even closer to him.

"Can we stay like this? I haven't felt this comfortable with anyone in years." Alex's words had started mushing into each other like goo. He was half asleep and words in general had started to sound like nonsense to him. However, this woke Dorothy up. Her bottom lip stuck out and her eyebrows raised in sympathy for the man. She knew he didn't mean to say it or maybe didn't mean to word it in such a way. It still touched her heart.

"Okay. But, can we move to the bed? You're going to ache in the morning." Alex's hair flopped as he nodded in reply. Dot slithered off his body and held out both hands to help him up. He groaned slightly from being in the same position for so long. His right hand stayed in her left as she guided him up the stairs. Dorothy looked around the landing, trying to find his bedroom. Once she did, she took him into the room. Assuming she was allowed to, Dot looked in his wardrobe to find a pair of grey joggers and a Stone Roses t-shirt. She stepped into his en suite and shut the door lightly behind her. Dot changed into the clothes and made a small pile of her daytime wear by the door of the bathroom. Then, she went back into the bedroom. Alex's vest was thrown onto the floor next to him and he'd started getting into bed. Dorothy tiptoed to the other side of the bed and lifted the duvet to get under the soft covers. Alex's arm was already by the headboard, awaiting her. She let out a little giggle and shifted over to him.

"You look good in that shirt." His eyes weren't able to stay properly open. It made her giggle. He looked slightly drunk when he was sleep deprived.

"Alex, you're tired. You don't know what you're saying." She rested her face onto his chest and let one of her legs lay on top of both of his. It was intimate. Dorothy wasn't complaining.

"Mmm. Maybe. But you do." His accent was even thicker when tired. She looked up at him and let her hand reach up to his head to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. Dot's hand travelled down to his cheek. She let it rest there, moving her thumb in circles slowly. Alex's head automatically leaned further into her hand; wanting more.

"Get some sleep. You have work in the morning." She smiled, putting her hand down onto his bare chest. His face of satisfaction faltered.

"Don't remind me." He kept his eyes on her. She giggled and started drawing doodles on his chest with her pointer finger. Alex's arm nudged her closer to him and he shifted further down the bed to rest his head on top of hers. Then, his free arm wrapped around her, trapping her in a tight hug. She found it comforting- as did Alex. Dorothy leaned over slightly to turn the lamp on the vintage bedside table off and shut her eyes. Alex's warm breath hit the top of her head and she started to match his breathing as he started to drift off. For the first time in a while, Dorothy felt safe with someone and Alex's heartbeat started to soothe her again. Comforting her to sleep.

TRANSLATIONS

The cheek on you - Basically kind of like 'the audacity'

MUSIC RECOMMENDATIONS FOR MENTIONED BANDS

Joe Strummer - Love Kills

[romancingdaffodils]

hey

[romancingdaffodils]

The Dream Synopsis

Part 1 - Saturday’s Kids

Part 2 - Room on Fire

Charlie Don’t Surf

Alex zipped up scuffed chelsea boots while wincing at the infuriating headache (the consequence of the night before) that aggravated him enough for it to not be ignored. Boots clacking against the pine wood floor, he grabbed a pack of aspirin and dry swallowed a couple pills- hoping they'd take the headache away for the hours he'd be recording for. Before leaving, he peered into the mirror in the hallway. He huffed while touching up his hair by running his fingers through the dark chocolate mass which shaped his face perfectly. Pinching the ends of his hair by his ears, Alex decided that his hair was good enough and left the accommodation quickly and not bothering to lock the door behind him. Shangri-La Studios was a safe space. The chance of a burglary was close to none.

Arriving at the studio in a rush, Alex opened the door to be met with Miles, Dorothy, and James. Miles had a mahogany semi-hollow guitar resting on his thigh while intensely chatting to Dorothy. She had a large white bass on her thigh, her right arm resting on the groove of the body while she listened to Miles, nodding as she did so. James waltzed up to Alex, shaking his hand and talking to him. However, Alex couldn't take his eyes off the bass. It'd been loved, that's for sure; a couple of chips on the unpigmented body of the bass and a personalised pickguard that she'd obviously done herself, slashes of red and yellow paint decorated the black pickguard which complimented the slight yellowing on the area around the strap-post and bridge, and a red strap that had started fraying in some areas which made it look slightly fuzzy was attached to the strap-posts. Alex's eyes moved up and down the bass one last time before turning back to James.

"Got that, Alex?" James smirked a little. Alex felt his face heat up and he begged that no one saw his embarrassment.

"Sorry, what?" Alex rubbed his eye, trying to fake tiredness as an excuse for him spacing out and staring at the man's sister.

"Miracle Aligner. We couldn't get Zach in today... I gave Dot the sheet music for it and she's going to play for you guys. Other than that, we just need to get all the guitar parts down and vocals from you and Miles. Is that alright?" Alex nodded and James motioned Dorothy into the recording booth. She brought the sheet music with her, gently placing it onto a stand in front of her and plugging the lead into the jack of her bass. Miles stood up and found himself next to Alex, crossing his arms. Alex stood in awe. James gave her the all clear and she started plucking the A string with her pointer and middle finger gently, easing herself into the music. Her fingers glided from string to string and fret to fret with passion and meaning. Alex's eyes wandered to more than the bass and her fingers. She wore a deep red skirt which seemed to be a latex type material which reached her mid-thigh. Going upwards, she wore a ragged fishnet top (which seemed very reminiscent of Paul Simonon in the late 1970s) with a red bra under it. Dorothy had finished the look off with a pair of tatty converse and her usual makeup.

"She's brilliant," Miles praised, with a smile on his face. Alex looked over at Miles who was still watching Dorothy closely, "Every time I've attempted to play bass I get a bit lost. The frets are bloody massive."

"Yeah... bassists don't get enough credit..." Alex trailed off while looking back at Dorothy who was now reaching the end of the song. James sent her a big thumbs up and Alex admired her toothy grin and how her eyes smiled with her mouth, making them almost close. She got instructed to play again and Miles looked over at Alex.

"Can you tune for me? Need to piss." He pleaded. Alex slowly turned to the dark haired man and looked at him blankly.

"How lazy are you, Miles?" He replied sarcastically with a slight smirk painting his face.

"I'll pay you." Miles winked and handed the dark wood guitar to Alex.

"I'm not your whore." Alex replied as Miles walked past him. The taller man chuckled as he was walking away and, from a distance, half-shouted:

"Not yet!" Alex giggled and shook his head. Sitting down on the settee, he positioned the guitar on his right thigh and started with the low E string. Alex lowered his head to the body of the instrument so he could hear the note coming from the string. His fingers gripped the tuning peg lightly, turning it to change the pitch. He moved to each string, tuning by ear. Afterwards, he set the guitar down next to him and the door opened. Expecting Miles, his expression changed when he saw that it was Dorothy. He gave her a light smile as she placed her bass to lean up against the wall. Miles bursted into the room, thanked Alex quickly, grabbed his guitar, and hurried into the recording booth.

"Enthusiastic cunt." She laughed and looked over to Alex who seemed to be in his own world.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. He gets in a rush sometimes. Ants in his pants or summat," Alex chuckled to himself quietly, "Excuse me, I'm going to the loo." He rushed past Dorothy who gave him a confused look as he exited the main room. Closing the bathroom door behind him, Alex leaned against it- his body slowly brushing down the door until he was squatting on the floor. He held his head in his hands until he regulated his breathing. He then steadied himself to sit on the floor with his legs spread in front of him while resting his head on the door; letting a heavy sigh out. He brushed a lock of hair out the way of his face and then pressed the back of his hand on his cheek. It was hot. His heart was racing and his face felt beet red. Anxiety was something he dealt with more and more frequently over years. He didn't like that since AM was released, the media had been portraying him as an arrogant, blunt man just because his face seemed serious all the time and he was slightly sarcastic. It started to get to him within the few recent years as he didn't want to be characterised that way. He was just an introvert and didn't understand why interviewers misunderstood him to an extreme degree. Alex took deeper and deeper breaths and started to refamiliarise himself with his surroundings so his brain could stop whirring and giving him intrusive thoughts during an anxiety attack.

Knock, knock. "Alex? Are you okay?" A feminine voice asked softly, "James needs you in the recording booth now. I can try and stall you for another couple of minutes if you don't want to come out yet." Dorothy heard him sigh from the other side of the door and the rustle of clothes as he stood up and opened the door.

"Thank you." He said with absolute gratitude. She smiled at him as a 'you're welcome' and let him walk past and enter the booth. Alex checked his watch. He was in the bathroom far longer than it seemed to him. Alex strolled up to the mic guard and put black headphones over his head. However, he made it so that only one of his ears was covered and the other wasn't. James signalled to him and started to play the track in his headphones. Alex closed his eyes as he started to sing. The world, to him, seemed to stop for a few moments around him. The sensory deprivation was a calming factor that he always enjoyed about recording, it made the whole world pause in his mind. He started to sway with the music and subconsciously moved his hands to mime the lyrics he sang. A smile always appeared on Alex's lips as he sang, even near the end of a song. Music had always been a pure passion for him. That, and writing. Being able to merge the two into one made a concoction that Alex thoroughly cherished gave him more joy than anything else. The music faded out and Alex opened his eyes. Dorothy gave him a grin and James spoke into the microphone:

"Can we have a few more takes of the chorus and one more of the second verse please?" Alex nodded and looked over at Dorothy again. She gave him a reassuring look and he turned back to the microphone to signal that he was ready. He started singing the chorus again, his arms flowing as he sang smoothly into the microphone. Dorothy admired him and how focused he seemed when he sang. It gave her peace, somehow.

"Gets you in a trance, dunnit?" She said to Miles, who was sitting on the settee, and putting his guitar in a hard-shell case.

"Yeah, I get it. His voice is smooth as shit." He chuckled back to her, clipping the case up at the buckles.

"His voice is gorgeous. Hard to describe. Sort of velvety?" She questioned, looking over at Miles. He replied in a short hum.

"He's improved a lot recently- vocal-wise. His fans won't know what's going to hit them," He replied as he got up to stand next to her. James signalled that Alex was all done. He nodded in reply, setting his headphones down and leaving the booth, "Alright, Al?" Miles asked sincerely. Alex nodded with a slight smile on his face. He was still in a focused mood.

"Need to have a kip." Dorothy sighed as Miles held the door open for her. They'd recorded all they needed to today.

"I feel that," Miles chuckled as he shut the door once Dorothy and Alex had left the studio, "I'm shattered." Alex put his hands in his trouser pockets, looking up at the blue sky which had a few wispy clouds in it. Dorothy walked on Alex's right with her bass in a long, rectangular case in her right hand so she didn't knock him with it. Miles was to his left.

"That hangover from last night was not on. Where did you even end up going, Miles?" She asked him, peering over to him as she spoke.

"I can't lie, I have no recollection of last night. To my memory, we were dancing and then I was in bed," Dorothy giggled loudly at Miles' experience, "You were right about you being punk."

"I'm glad I know myself so well," she replied; sarcastically, "What gave me away?"

"You dress like you're going 'round with Ramones or summat."

"That's the dream. Have you seen young Tommy Ramone? That hair." Alex laughed at her remark.

"Miles can't live up to any hair compliments." Considering this was the first thing Alex had said in ages, it made Dot and Miles laugh loudly, throwing their heads back. Dorothy wiped tears that had pricked her eyes from how hard she'd laughed.

"That was a fucking violation, Alex," She giggled more. A small smirk appeared on Alex's face, "I'm sure Miles could have pretty hair if he wanted to." She joked with him.

"Stop ganging up on me, you two. My hair is already beautiful." Miles said as he pretended to flick hair from his shoulders with his one free hand.

"You mean your scalp, right? Saying you have hair is a bit of an overstatement, mate," Alex clapped back, receiving a light slap on the back of the head from Miles. He looked over at Miles, frowning and rubbing where his friend had slapped him. Dorothy started to love the walks back with the pair... they made her laugh and got her included with conversations. They reached Miles' place, waving him off and saying various 'see you tomorrows', "Tell me, what are your actual influences."

"You're asking too much of me, Alex." She looked over at Alex. He already knew her taste was varied so the question seemed futile.

"Fine, who's changed the way you think most? Musically." He rephrased. This question caused her to think. There were a lot of people that popped into her head. One stood out the most.

"Mick Jones. I guess, Joe Strummer too? They were the people that wrote the songs for The Clash. I'm saying Mick mainly, though." Alex hummed.

"Didn't Mick Jones end up producing a Libertines album?" Dorothy nodded enthusiastically. This made Alex warm inside. He loved seeing people talk about their interests and passions.

"Mick Jones did a lot more than people let on. He's featured in a Gorillaz song, been in The Clash, Big Audio Dynamite, and has done a fuck load of producing here and there. He was a pretty guy when he was younger too." Alex listened closely, trying to be as attentive as possible. He liked a couple songs by The Clash. One of his favourite songs by them was Charlie Don't Surf. So, he wasn't completely new to their sound.

"What about fashion?" Alex looked at her outfit again. He liked the way she dressed. She stood out in a crowd but if the 'crowd' was from 40 years beforehand? She'd manage to fit in. Alex guessed that she got looks from a lot of middle aged people in the UK because she would've dressed the way that they did.

"Everyone... Anyone. Hard to explain. I mean, I love the way Siouxsie Sioux used to dress and Chrissie Hynde. But, I also like the ambiguity that some punks had too. I sort of nick small things from everyone." She smiled at him as she reached her front door.

"I think you dress in a way that makes you eye-catching." Alex blurted out. Dorothy raised her eyebrows and his cheeks heated.

"You didn't mean for that to be so poetic, did you?" She looked back at him, giggling.

"Not at all," He replied, scratching the back of his head, "You get my point, though." She nodded and gave him a sincere look.

"I do. Thank you." She smiled, ears and cheeks blushing.

"Goodnight, Dot." Alex said as she opened her front door.

"Goodnight, Al." Dorothy replied. She'd only ever called him that when they were drunk- it made Alex's mind go back to the night before. They waved each other off and as Alex turned away, he heard the door shut delicately.

TRANSLATIONS

Loo -  Toilet

Have a kip - Have a nap/sleep

Shattered - Tired

Not on - Not okay

Summat - Something

Tommy Ramone/Paul Simonon/Mick Jones/Joe Strummer/Siouxsie Sioux/Chrissie Hynde - Key punk figures

MUSIC RECOMMENDATIONS FOR MENTIONED BANDS

Ramones - Sheena Is a Punk Rocker

Joe Strummer (and the Mescaleros) - X-Ray Style

The Clash - (White Man) in Hammersmith Palais

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach

Big Audio Dynamite - Medicine Show

Siouxsie (and the Banshees) - Jigsaw Feeling

Pretenders (Chrissie Hynde) - Tattooed Love Boys