#First question to his PA every morning: What day is today?!

[hubba1892]

It happened again! [x]

[typically-untypical]

Another Coffee Shop AU

This was written for the 2025 Camp Cartoon event by @tss-camp-and-coffee specifically for @virgeandhis-pocket-protector

The bell on the door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. Normally, Janus might be mildly irritated, but he looked at the clock, a small smile spreading on his face instead. This customer was here almost the same time every day, same order, same sleepy look in his eyes. 

“Salutations.” The voice called, and Janus looked up. Sure enough, there was Logan, punctual as always. His hands were on his tie, adjusting it carefully but there was something different in his eyes today. Janus wondered if something had happened.

“Good Morning, same as usual?”

“If you could be so obliged.” 

It took considerable effort not to tease Logan, not to call him a nerd or make some other sarcastic quip. Janus couldn’t help it, Logan was endearingly disconnected from the social weave that Janus wrapped himself in, knowing faux pas and studying expectations. He wanted to break all of those expectations, to watch as Logan tried to catch up. Honestly, it was Janus' way of flirting, which was the exact reason he couldn't. What if Logan had a soulmate? What if he was happily married? Sure he didn't wear a ring on his finger but there were plenty of people who practiced other culturally significant marriage displays. Janus wasn't going to risk having missed one and making a fool of himself hitting on a married man and a customer. He was fine with the two of them doing this little dance, customer and coffee provider, nothing more. 

“Oh yes, how awful it would be for me to make a coffee at my place of work where I am paid to make coffee.” Okay, so maybe he could be just a little sarcastic. It was practically second nature to him and he was sure Logan would understand that this was just who Janus was. Maybe he might even enjoy it. Janus wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but he thought he saw Logan rolling his eyes, a fond smile spreading over his lips. Logan's tells were all in the minuscule; Janus had honestly never met someone who held their heart that close to their chest. At first, he hadn't liked Logan, he had thought the other man was an asshole, then he saw Logan's smile. It was small, just a twitch of his lips, but it had stirred up something in Janus. 

“This is your job?" Logan asked, "I assumed you simply enjoyed hanging out with me.”

Logan was sarcastic back. Janus almost dropped the milk steamer as he put his hand to his chest. Logan was sarcastic back. This man didn't make it easier for him to be detached and Janus had a hard time minding. The gods had seen fit to bless him with a happy, snarky, Logan. It made Janus' heart jump. “Logan, was that sarcasm I detected? Did you learn that just for me?”

There it was, the eye roll again, his lips turned in a fond smirk. Janus wanted to reach over the bar and kiss him but that would be wildly inappropriate and most likely not reciprocated. He went back to making the coffee, focusing fully on the coffee.

“Quite possibly,” Logan answered. Then he did something uncharacteristic of himself, shyly shifting from one foot to the next. “Janus, I… I have a question I would like to ask you, but it is personal and impertinent.”

“You have me curious.” Janus put the milk pitcher under the steaming wand, getting the milk up to just the right temperature before pulling it away. He poured the milk into Logan’s cup before looking up at him. “There’s no one around but us, ask away.”

There were a lot of impertinent things Logan could ask. He could ask about the scars on Janus' arm and face, left overs from a bad case of chicken pox when Janus was a child. Logan could ask about Janus' soulmate, a rather troubling subject considering that same bout of chicken pox had left Janus unable to communicate with any soulmate he might have. Logan could ask him why he was working in a place like this and in an office, or as a lawyer, education and money being the answer to both of those. There was a lot Logan could ask, and very little that Janus might tell him. They weren't close enough yet for that kind of connection, even if Janus wished they were.

Logan frowned, opening his mouth and then drawing it into a thin line. Janus watched as his face rotated through emotions and thoughts, nothing fully readable but a full spectrum nonetheless. If Logan asked him out, would Janus say yes? It wasn't normally a good idea to agree to date a customer, but Logan wasn't just any customer was he? Either way that was probably wishful thinking. It wasn't likely that Logan was going to ask him out. Far more likely was asking about his scars, especially with the way they were clustered, they almost looked like scales. 

Logan cleared his throat, gripped his coffee tighter, then looked Janus in the eyes. Janus smirked, trying to ease the situation a little bit.

“What is your opinion on dating something without a soulmate?” His voice was serious, and Janus felt his heart sink.

It really was all about soulmates with most people, wasn't it? He resisted the urge to protectively grab his arm, to explain even if he had a soulmate he could never know who they were. The doctors had seen it before, and Janus had studied it on his own when he was old enough. Too much 'traumatic' damage to a soul arm could break the connection, leaving a person facing not only whatever terrible condition they were dealing with, but also facing the loss of their future. Janus tried to keep a calm smile on his face.

“That is a rather impertinent question, what makes you ask?”

There were purists who believed you should only date your soulmate, and still others who believed soulmates didn't have to be romantic and thus limiting your dating pool to only your soulmate was non-sense. Janus thought almost all of it was dumb. People were constantly evolving and changing, someone might be your soulmate but they could be right for you when you're in your 20s or in your 50s, and they very well might not be right for you every step of the way. Janus had to convince himself he hadn't lost his other half when he lost his soulmate.

“I thought… if you were amiable, you might like to know that I don’t have a soulmate, and that I am free next Tuesday after your shift, but I wouldn’t ask a server out as they are at work and it is part of someone’s work persona to be cordial to their customers, but if I could hope-” Logan cut himself off, shaking his head and Janus was pulled out of his self pity. 

He had heard that correctly, right? Logan had just asked him out? In a way? Janus snorted if only to prevent himself from letting out an excited yelp. 

“Yeah nerd, I could do Tuesday after work, I don't mind going on a date with you." Didn't mind wasn't the half of it, but he wasn't going to give that away. "You’re pretty good looking, and a decent tipper.” Janus reached for the tip jar, holding it out to Logan and shaking it a little bit. Logan rolled his eyes and seemed to relax, the smallest hint of a smile was back on his face. He pulled out twenty dollars and his business card, dropping both in the tip jar.

“That has my number, and if you change your mind and decide not to call. That is… acceptable.” He had the dumbest little puppy dog sad eyes on his face despite his obvious attempt to hide it. Janus could almost understand what his best friend meant about cute aggression. Logan was going to be the death of him in probably the best way possible. 

“Really, you would be perfectly fine if I didn’t call?” He asked, leaning forward on the counter a bit, watching as Logan hid his face behind his coffee.

“I’m not certain fine is the correct word, but I would survive the ordeal.” His eyes met Janus' and they both stared at each other for a moment. Did Logan know? Did he understand how much Janus wanted to date him?

“Well then,” Janus fished the business card out of the tip jar, putting it in his pocket for safe keeping. “We will have to see about that, won’t we?”

Logan nodded, and Janus could see the hints of a smile pecking out from behind his coffee cup. "Yes, yes we will."

Janus turned back to cleaning, listening as Logan walked away and quickly pulling Logan's card out of his pocket once he heard the door chime and close once again. He planned on memorizing Logan's phone number.

He wasn't taking any chances. 

[bleucommelhiver]

look alive, ulric

nyx ulric week 2024 | day 3: teamwork RATING: T for language because it's Nyx and Pelna c'mon now WORDS: 1126 SUMMARY: On the day of the signing, the only people Nyx and Pelna can trust are each other.

The feeling of unease that’s been gnawing at the edge of Nyx’s consciousness since yesterday morning hasn’t let up. Today’s the big day. After today, he’ll put in a request for some much needed leave. Bring Crowe’s body back to Galahd, with Libertus if he’ll give him the time of fucking day, give her a proper burial. Check out the old haunts. Pay his respects to his lil’ sis and to pa. Finally see ma. Maybe you’d come along too.

He just needs to fucking get through today.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

But as he makes his way past the crowds and barricades to the roundabout at the foot of the Citadel, the quietude of the day has him on high alert. Something deep in his gut is waiting for the metaphorical pin to drop.

The comm from command buzzes in his ear: “Niflheim contingent has left the hotel. Less than three hours until the ceremony. Bolster the Citadel Guard.”

Great. Looks like the circus is about to begin. Time to look alive, Ulric.

His comm buzzes again, this time it’s Luche on a private frequency. “Nyx, is the Princess with you?”

What kind of asinine question was that? Luche knows full well the captain’s relegated him to every form of grunt work since the last mission. Chaperoning the princess on the historic day of the signing was, apparently, out of the scope of his duties.

Nyx answers anyways, curious where Luche’s going with this. “No, I’m on duty at the Citadel.”

“Well, the Nifs just left for the ceremony. And she wasn't with them.”

The fuck? He was relieved from princess duty last night by Sonitus. Why’s Luche radioing him about it? The sense of unease in the pit of his stomach deepens.

It’s none of his business. He’s part of the Citadel Guard today, and all he needs to do is to get through today. It’s none of his fucking business, but his captain’s words echo in his head anyways: “Your orders are to protect her. Not to look, not to listen, not to think.”

Fuck.

Gods-fucking-dammit.

Nyx abandons his post and makes a beeline for his apartment. Along the way, he taps his comm, ready to test a theory.

“Hey Pelna, Luche says the Princess is missing.”

“No shit?” His surprised response comes quickly. “Today of all days. Real convenient.”

“Yeah, seems like the Nifs got us running about like rats.”

There’s a brief pause before he replies, “No shit.”

As Nyx rounds the corner to his apartment, his phone begins to buzz. He mutes his comm piece before picking up.

“Trust no one, huh, Nyx?”

“Figured if there’s anyone left in the Glaive that Crowe’s warned, it’d be you.”

“So, what’s the plan, hero? Off to rescue the princess all by yourself?”

“I got you, don’t I? The Robin to my Batman. Or would you be Alfred in this case?”

“Fuck off, asshole,” Pelna laughs. “How can I help?”

Nyx throws open the door to his apartment and grabs the watch from where he left it on his desk. Its face is displaying a steady 35:2720 and -13:0318 instead of the dance of numbers from earlier this morning.

“I’m running on a hunch here, but I’m going to send you some coordinates from Crowe’s watch. Can you pinpoint the location?”

“Yeah, hold on.” Nyx can hear the rapid-fire click of keys as Pelna logs in his credentials. As he inputs the coordinates, Pelna asks, “You hear from your other princess?”

Nyx sucks in a breath. “No. Not since yesterday.”

“My texts haven’t been getting through to her, thought you might know something about it.”

Nyx pauses. He was beginning to think that all his undelivered texts were some short of glitch with his phone: first Crowe, now you. Fuck, he doesn’t have time to dwell on this. It’s got to be a coincidence. You should be in Altissia now, far away and safe from whatever shitshow is taking place today. Regardless, you’re more than capable and he knows you’re fine. You have to be.

“Don’t worry about her Pels, she’s safe.”

“Right…” Pelna doesn’t sound too convinced, but Nyx doesn’t blame him, he’s not privy to your whereabouts. “It’s twenty miles south of Insomnia — outside the Wall. What the hell was Crowe doing way out there?”

“No, no, they sent her to—” Nyx catches himself. “I need another favor Pels, pull those coordinates up on the radar. What do you see?”

“Shit. There’s a whole fleet of airships sitting at that spot.”

“Niflheim.”

“Yeah, and from the looks of it, not the celebratory committee.”

Nyx runs a hand over his face in frustration. He should’ve known the armistice was bullshit; should’ve known the Nifs couldn’t be trusted. What’s the play now? If he alerts King Regis and mobilizes the troops, there’s a good chance the Nifs would catch whiff, especially if their ranks have truly been infiltrated. With the malcontent that’s been brewing from the protests on the streets to the soldiers in the barracks, he’s not confident any attempt at clandestine movements wouldn’t be immediately exposed.

So what? Does he just stay in the Crown City, pretend there isn’t a war fleet knocking at their door, and just…monitor the situation? Forget about the missing princess?

‘You’re not to look, not to listen, not to think,’ Captain Drautos’ words echo in his head again. Yeah, well, guess the King can count his lucky stars that he’s always been kind of shit at following orders.

Speaking of…

“Where’s the captain?”

“Should be on escort detail at the Citadel.”

Nyx doesn’t remember spotting the captain earlier. He scans the frequencies on his comm again, but it seems like their captain’s still AWOL.

At his silence, Pelna asks, “You thinking…?”

“Can’t be sure. Can’t rule it out either, but I need you to ready the Glaive for action.”

“What? You planning to deploy without the captain’s orders?”

“No.” Nyx dons his armor on over his uniform, pulling its zipper up and buckling its fasteners to secure the leather pauldrons in place. As he checks his weapons, he explains, “There’s no point bringing everyone along for a wild goose chase. As long as the Wall remains standing, their fleet has no way of reaching us, but if Crowe’s right, we need to be on alert for something inside the Walls.”

“You going dark?”

“Yeah, I’ll recon and assess. Low chance I won’t need to engage, but keep this to yourself for now. Give me an updated SITREP when you can.”

“Affirmative. I got your six.”

“Yeah. You always do, Pels.”

With that, Nyx ends the call and sets off.

Looks like getting through the day just got a lot more complicated.

NOTES: Please accept this excerpt from ch. 9 of Wayward Children as tribute, since as per usual, I've somehow deluded myself into thinking I'd be able to work on multiple pieces at once :)

[fordlee]

Soostan Month Prompt 10: Firsts

If it weren't for the considerable amount of money that came from having The Shack open during holidays, Stan would never, ever put himself through it.

He'd been prepping for Valentine’s Day for months. He'd stocked up on various themed knickknacks and ordered plenty of Valentine's themed candy and snacks. Question mark stickers and pins and postcards dotted with hearts, heart-shaped lollipops and gummies, a buy-one-get-one-same-price “deal” on statuettes of a two-headed cupid. Might as well call these rubes sheep the way they were getting fleeced.

And it looked like all his hard work was paying off. There were the usual suspects, of course. One half of a couple who'd forgotten to buy something ‘til last minute and needed something quick, couples on vacation either celebrating a recent engagement or were attempting to salvage something unsalvageable. There were families from all the way in the Northeast spending their February vacation who, for some reason, decided to spend their precious time in some tourist trap in some hick town off the map. 

All that was manageable and expected, but what really grinded Stan's gears was the parents from town who dropped off their little shits to shop for last minute Valentine’s gifts for their entire class in the morning or just gawk at his merchandise (or, God forbid, break them), after school let out without even the allowance money to pay for it. Now he had to spend entire tours worrying about the little hellions potentially razing his shop to the ground, and then he had to manage the customers in the gift shop because his latest cashier was barely trained and wasn't interested in moving his ass from the register or tearing his eyes off his magazine for the five seconds it took to tell little Timmy to spit out the novelty bobbleheads. 

The store was packed, both a blessing and a curse. Stan was getting pulled in too many different directions to count. He was up to his knees in rugrats while keeping an eye on the shiftier patrons in case they tried to swipe something. Idiots kept coming up to him to ask for price checks on items that had their prices listed in big, bold print right in front of them. And a gaggle of sticky-handed gremlins apparently found pulling on his coattails to be the funniest goddamn thing in the world, and kept yanking on them every couple a minutes then ran off laughing their asses off before he could spot them in the crowd.

It was driving Stan's to his wit’s end. So when he felt someone tugging at his coattails again for his attention, he nearly lost it. He was gonna catch the little shits this time!

Stan whipped his head around so fast it nearly gave him whiplash. “Listen here ya little–... Soos?”

Soos blinked up at him (Not owlishy, maybe more like a pigeon?), before he broke into a buck-toothed smile and he leaned up on his tippy-toes. “Hi, Mr. Pines! Happy Valentine’s day, dude.”

“Happy… Valentine’s Day,” Stan replied, confused. “Soos, whaddaya doin’ here? You're not in today.”

It was Soos’ first Valentine’s Day since he'd started working there. Stan always made sure his littlest handyman got holidays off. You were only young once, Stan knew that well, and Soos was only twelve. He didn't need to be spending time in the Mystery Shack when he could be with family or friends. And it wasn't like school was canceled or anything. He remembered hating how he'd have to spend all day in school only to have to help Pa at work when he came home in the afternoons. Plus, Soos worked harder and with more enthusiasm than any Tom, Dick, or Harry from town who signed up to work here. Soos deserved the day off.

“I wanted to visit you,” Soos smiled, rocking in place from heel to toe. He held his hands behind his back. “I wanted to show you something I made. Well, my Abuelita helped me with it.”

Stan looked around his shop. “Soos, I'm a little busy here.”

“Please, Mr. Pines? It'll be real quick, I promise.”

Soos looked up at Stan with his big squishy cheeks and a protruding, pouty bottom lip, and this pleading look in his big, brown puppy dog eyes and Stan already knew he'd been bested. How on Earth could he say no to that face?

Stan knelt down on his good knee to get closer to the kid. “Alright, real quick, lemme see.”

In a flash of pink and white, Soos whipped out his hands from behind his back. A pink paper heart (likely cut from construction paper) stared Stan dead in the face. It was decorated with a frilly white border. The inside of the heart was littered with dozens of tinier hearts drawn in blacks and reds and purples. And in the middle was a childish sprawling in black.

WILL YOU BE MY VALENTINE?

A smile slowly raised to Stan's lips, eyes crinkling in delight as he held the card in his hands. “Oh, Soos…” He leaned over to playfully nudge the kid, who was smiling bashfully and looking away. “Ya little Casanova, you!” 

Stan could tell that under the kid's embarrassment, he was practically preening under Stan's praise. Good. Little guy deserved to feel confident, especially about this.

“So, who's it for?” He asked. “Some girl from your class?”

“Oh, um,” Soos’ face fell and he rubbed at his arm. “No…”

“Someone else, then?” Stan swiveled his head, trying to pick a girl out from the crowd. “Wait, is she here? Lemme see if I can–”

“No!” Soos flushed at his own sudden shout before clasping his hands together nervously. “It's um… It's for you.”

Stan blinked, raising a brow. “What?”

The boy before him was read as a tomato.

“Mr. Pines, will you be my Valentine?”

If they weren't attached to his face, Stan was sure his eyebrows would have rocketed off his face and hit the stratosphere. His first attempt at speaking was a shocked splutter of unintelligible questions. His eyes darted about nervously, ensuring that no customers had heard over the buzz of their own chatter. He leaned forward a bit, keeping his voice low.

“Soos, I– no. I can't.”

“What?” Soos’ bottom lip wobbled. “Why not?”

He could practically see Soos’ heart snap in half right in front of him. He felt like he just kicked a puppy. And those big, brown eyes of his looked so sad, it nearly broke his heart.

“Look, I– we can't–” Stan cut himself off with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. How the hell was he going to go about explaining this? 

“Is the card not good enough?”

“Ugh, no, the card's great. You did a great job on… Wait,” A chill ran down Stan's spine. “Did you tell your grandma who you were giving it to?”

Thankfully, the kid shook his head. “I wanted it to be a secret.”

A secret. God, he felt grimy. He could only imagine how Soos’ grandma would feel if she found out. He'd prefer being locked up with the key thrown away if it meant she didn't get her hands on him first.

Hw tried to hand the card back only for Soos to cross his arms over his chest, blocking it.

Sighing, Stan chose his next words carefully. “Look, I'm really flattered, but I can't be your Valentine.”

“But why not?”

Stan glanced back once just to check no one was listening in. “I'm too old for you. I'm sure one of your classmates would want to be Valentines with you.”

Soos shook his head again, expression forlorn. “Nobody else really likes me. I'm too weird. I didn't even get any cards or candy or anything at school.”

Something in Stan's chest twinged at that. He could remember being his age, being the outcast in and outside of class. He never really got anything for Valentine’s Day, either. Not until Carla, at least. And, Hell, at least he had a brother to commiserate with. Soos had hardly anyone. He had family, true. But most of the kid's cousins were from out of town. There was only so much a grandmother could do.

Still, he had to put his foot down.

“Soos, no, I can't.”

He'd been trying to keep his voice down so others couldn't listen in, but Soos clearly hadn't gotten the memo.

“Please!” Soos stood on his tippy-toes again, palms pressed together as he begged. “Please, please, please, Mr. Pines!”

“Soos, no–”

“Pretty please! Pretty please be my Valentine!”

“Kid, keep it down–”

“I won't ask for anything ever again! I promise, dude! Just, please, let's be Valentines! Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaa–”

“Okay, fine!” God, the kid drew a hard bargain. If it made the kid shut his yap, so be it. “I'll be your Valentine.”

“Yuss,” Soos pumped his fist in the air, victorious. He beamed up at Stan. “Thank you, Mr. Pines!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Stan kept glancing around, thankful that his patrons and cashier were too self-absorbed in the mild chaos of the giftshop to focus on them. “Don't expect us to do anythin’. We're Valentines in name only.”

“That's okay, dude. That's all I really wanted,” a blush lit up the kid's chubby cheeks. “Thank you for being my first Valentine, Mr. Pines.”

Stan rolled his eyes. With a grunt, he rose to stand. “Alright, well, I got customers to deal with, so scram.”

The words were harsh, but Stan's tone was anything but. Soos turned to leave.

“Hey, wait,” Stan stopped him. He turned to the nearest shelf, spotting heart-shaped lollipops wrapped in pink foil and dotted question marks. He grabbed one and dropped it into Soos’ hands. “Here. Happy Valentine’s, kid.”

Somehow, Soos smiled even brighter, eyes crinkling with joy. “Thanks, Mr. Pines!”

And with that, Stan watched as the kid practically skipped out of the joint. 

“I'm takin’ it outta your paycheck!” Stan called out after him. He made a mental note to forget to remember to dock the cost of the lollipop later.

Looking down, Stan realized he'd been holding the card in his hand the entire time. Warmth filled his chest and a soft smile rose to his lips once more.

Soos was a good kid. A little sweetheart. Terrible taste in men, though. Ah, but he'd get over his little crush soon enough, surely.

Giving it one last glance before returning to bsuiness, Stan folded up the card and stuck it into the inside pocket of his coat.

Close to his heart.

[tealeavesandtrash]

🎄 Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon: Part 11 - 1 Day Until Christmas 🎄

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 10 || Part 12

Work is miserable, worse than normal but Sirius can’t tell if that is just because of the pressure they're under at the moment, or because he’s just come back from he isn’t starting to realise that might have been the best month he’s had in years. 

He’s up at six in the morning after barely sleeping the night before, kept awake with a carousel of questions. 

How did he let Reg talk him into this? Why didn’t he put off coming back for another few days? How much more fun are they having in Scotland right now? Is he okay to do this shit for the rest of his life? Was Teddy upset he didn’t say goodbye? Did he ever actually enjoy working for Orion? Is it too late to go back?

The moment he’s fully awake, he’s on the phone with various stakeholders. Everyone is running at a hundred miles an hour and every call is a new amendment, a different figure floated, or another document that needs chasing down. 

The only respite he gets is during the commute into the office, and that’s only because of the lack of signal in the tube. The second he steps into the office building, someone’s PA is herding him straight into a conference room and he gets thrown head first into back-to-back meetings with representatives from the board or legal or accounts.

He doesn’t particularly care who he’s meeting with or what’s being discussed - Regulus is there to handle the majority of the workload while Sirius can sit, take notes, and pick up anything that gets forgotten or needs chasing. The facade of a united front while they bend over backwards on Orion’s whim.  

Someone is debating the wording of subsection whatever, throwing around legal jargon that Sirius has no hope of following. Even Regulus looks like his eyes are about to roll into the back of his head. Instead of paying attention, Sirius doodles absentmindedly on the notepad in front of him, wondering about what’s happening in Hogsmeade - what James and Lily are doing for last-minute Christmas prep; how excited Harry and Teddy must be for tomorrow; whether or not Remus is working today and what he’s doing if the bookshop is closed. 

Remus has been on his mind a lot over the past couple of days, more than he ever anticipated. 

‘Do whatever you want.’

Those words keep circling in mind as they take a quick fifteen for lunch. Because he doesn’t want to be here; he never went out of his way to work for his father in the first place but fresh out of uni in a volatile job market and no clue what he wanted to do - working for the family company was the easy option, it’s been the easy option for the past few years because he hasn’t been put in a position where he’s had to think about what he really wants to do or what makes him happy and what his purpose in life is. 

He always just figured this was what he wanted - the big corporate job with the big paycheque, central London apartment and vibrant social life. But, as he sits and tries to listen to someone drone on about cost projection analysis, he’s starting to realise that the only place he wants to be right now, is in some tiny town way up in the highlands. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Sirius says over coffee, his fifth cup of the day. They have about ten minutes until a string of late afternoon/early evening meetings. Someone’s arranged a small buffet of snacks and tiny sandwiches to keep everyone going and Sirius is making quick work of it. 

Regulus peers over at him, slight frown present on his face. “What do you mean this .”

Sirius sighs, staring into his mug as he swirls the last dregs of coffee. “All of this, Reg. The job, the meetings, it’s all bullshit. We’re working round the clock for what? So one corporate dick can stick it to some other corporate dick?”

“We just need to get through the next few weeks. Things will ease up in February. ”

“And then what? We relax for a few weeks and then there’s another deal to push through and we’re bending over backwards for Dad again.”

“It’s what we do Sirius, it’s what we both signed up for?”

“But on Christmas, Reg?”

“So what? Since when did you care? We get out of Mother’s dinner party and this gets pushed through quicker because most of the people who want to stop are out of office.”

Sirius lets out a slow breath and lets his head drop back. “I can’t do any of it anymore,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can last any longer. I just - I just need out of this.”

Regulus swallows, glancing away. “I need you here,” he says quietly, pointedly not looking at Sirius. 

There’s a moment of silence that settles over the pair of them before Sirius steps closer and bumps their shoulders together. “No you don’t,” he says softly, and when Regulus finally looks back he gives him a small smile. “You’ve been fine all month without me, you’ve smashed these meetings. Christ, the only way this merger won’t go through is if you decide it won’t happen.”

Regulus studies him for a minute until his face finally relaxes and he lets out a low sigh. “If this goes tits up I’m blaming you, I hope you realise that.”

Sirius huffs out a laugh, “Yeah that’s fair.”

"And father will literally kill you if it does."

Sirius nods.

There’s another beat of silence. “So what are you going to do instead?”

“Go back to Scotland I guess?”

“Right now?”

“Why not? I can get the sleeper up, I'd be there by lunchtime.”

“Sirius, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“So what?”

Regulus fixes him with the ‘you’re an idiot’ glare which he’s had pinned down since he was about thirteen. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he repeats. “How many trains do you think are running right now?”

Sirius pauses to think a moment. “Well, then I’ll take the bike.”

“You can’t drive all the way up the Scotland overnight.”

“Says who? I’ve driven further before, and if I need to nap in a service station then I’ll have a nap in the services.”

Sirius is on the way back to his flat before the next meeting starts. He grabs a couple of handfuls of clothes and shoves them into a bag, along with any other essentials he can think of in the moment. 

He shoots Reg a text on his way down the garage - thanks him again for watching over the flat and covering work, and lets him know where his present is. He gives his bike a quick once over, making sure she’s ready for the long journey.  She doesn’t get as much use as Sirius would like in London, but his regular tinkering keeps her in decent shape.

The sun has long since set by the time he finally makes it out of London and onto the endless stretch of motorway that paves the way up north. 

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 10 || Part 12

@annaliza999 @marigold-hills @veganbutterchicken (If you do/dont want to be tagged in the next parts lmk <3)

[blood-darkened-moon]

@antaxzantax Honestly, I’m not happy with how the story turned out, especially the second half. But I can’t think of a way to improve it right now. My brain ran out of ideas, and this was the best I could come up with at the moment. I hope you still like it a little bit and it’s not a complete disappointment. Thank you very much for your request.

Request: Alfred and Alexia’s 10th birthday (AO3 Link)

10th Birthday

Alfred read the letter for the fifth time. The content had not changed since the first time, the same birthday wishes, the same stories on the latest events, the same offer for the twins to spend some time in England. An offer that his father had already declined before handing Alfred the letter. Alfred had also looked at the photo enclosed with the letter several times before, showing Uncle Andrew, Aunt Theresa, Grandma Nora, and his cousin Mary[1] smiling happily at the camera. They probably took the photo at their Christmas party last month.

Alfred threw the letter on the table and looked at the watch. It was now 6.37 pm. Alexander had already wished the twins a happy birthday in the morning but wanted to wait until after work to give them their presents officially and celebrate. He said he wanted to be ready on time at 5.00 pm this year. An hour and a half later, there was still no sign of him.

Alfred had rushed through his tasks. He had thought that today, his 10th birthday, would be different, that his father would actually take his time. But he should have known better. Nothing but empty promises, like every year.

However, it was different. He had always spent these days with Alexia. The two had played together from morning to night every year on their birthdays. Even when Alexia had started her studies, she hadn’t let that get in the way, and if necessary, she simply took the day off. But his sister had also disappeared.

Since she had started writing her thesis, Alfred rarely saw her. Alexia lost track of time while writing. She appeared less and less often at mealtimes and stayed up late into the night. By now, she had lost several kilos, and her ribs and spine were clearly visible under her skin. And when she made some room in her schedule for Alfred, she usually fell asleep within half an hour. Alfred was worried about her, but Alexia didn’t want to hear about it, and Alexander didn’t even seem to notice her condition. Alexia wanted to hand in her thesis in mid-February. Then everything would be better, so she said.

“More tea?” a maid asked, interrupting Alfred’s thoughts. He held the cup out to her wordlessly; she poured him some and gave it back.

“Shall I cut the cake for you now, young master?” Alfred’s stomach growled, but he didn’t want to start without Alexia. The tea had to be enough until his sister was ready. “No. I’ll wait.”

“Should I perhaps ask Lady Alexia if she could spare a little time now?”

The question infuriated Alfred. He would have preferred to go to Alexia’s study himself and pick her up, but he knew how much finishing this thesis meant to her. And if it was more important to her at the moment than celebrating her birthday with Alfred, then so be it. How could that cunt think of wanting to disturb Alexia?

“If she has time, she’ll come here herself,” he snapped at the maid. Alfred also wanted to hurl a few insults at her but held back at the last moment. That would only lead to another discussion with his father about his behavior, and he wanted to avoid that, at least today.

The woman then bowed briefly and left the room. He was alone again. Alfred thought about what else he could do while he waited. Previously, he had tried to pass the time by drawing and reading, not very successfully, though. But the more Alfred thought about what he could do now, the more he realized that he didn’t really feel like doing anything. Instead, Alfred simply put his head down on the table, wiped the tears from his wet eyes, and pulled the letter towards him again.

---

Alexia typed the last word of the page on the typewriter and removed the sheet. This time, it had taken her seven attempts to type out the handwritten page without any mistakes. Her concentration was noticeably waning, and the coffee was no longer enough to counteract this. But all in all, she had made good progress. Alexia flipped through her handwritten work, still about a quarter remaining. If she kept up her pace, she should be able to meet her self-imposed deadline.

She stretched and yawned. Alexia was tired. No wonder she had rarely slept for more than a few hours per night recently. But she couldn’t allow herself a break, otherwise sleep would overtake her. Besides, it wasn’t that late yet. She should certainly be able to finish a page or two before the birthday party was about to start. Alexia just hoped that she could last longer today without falling asleep. Alfred had been looking forward to spending more time with her again. Alexia longed for it, too. She missed playing with her brother and felt guilty that she was constantly leaving him to his own devices.

But there was still some time before 5 pm, so Alexia inserted a new sheet into the typewriter and took a quick glance at the clock to confirm her assumption. She felt sick to the stomach. No. That can’t be right. The stupid clock is broken. Yes. It has stopped. But as if to mock her, the second hand moved incessantly. It was 8.54 pm. She was much too late.

Why hadn’t she realized how late it was? Why didn’t anyone come to get her? Her father. Alfred. Someone. She jumped up from her chair and ran to one of the cupboards. There she rummaged around in a box until she found what she was looking for – Alfred’s birthday present.

As they spent most of their time at the South Pole, the twins rarely had the opportunity to choose or buy themselves anything for festive occasions. Their father usually did this, or rather had it done for him. Apart from a handful of gifts, most of the things they got were pretty much garbage. Things that were apparently popular among children somewhere, but were either intended for a different age group or didn’t match the twins’ interests. At least the absurdity of some of the presents amused them both. However, presents didn’t matter that much. Spending the day together was the most important thing for them anyway.

This time, however, Alexia had begged Mary during her last visit to get her a present for Alfred that she hoped he would like and asked her to box it in such a way that Alexander wouldn’t find out what it was. As compensation for her absence, her brother should at least get some entertainment. Her father didn’t want Alfred to watch horror movies. He always said it would excite Alfred too much. Alexia didn’t think so, so she got Alien as a present for him.

---

Alfred was lying face down on the table. He didn’t react when Alexia entered the room.

“Alfie?” No response. “Alfred?” she said louder now. Her brother slowly raised his head, still sleepy and slightly disoriented.

“I’m so sorry, Alfred. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long. I didn’t even realize how late it was. You could have just let me know.”

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” Alfred said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“You’re not bothering me. Stupid.” Alfred still looked distressed, so Alexia hugged him. “You’ll never bother me.” At least he was smiling a little now.

“Where’s Father? Hasn’t he been here?”

“I have no idea. I don’t care either.” Alfred sounded bitter. Alexia didn’t want to let it show, but she was no less disappointed. Her father had promised. At least he could have spent this one day with them. Although Alexander was very interested in her education, he rarely spent the free time with Alexia. It was even worse with Alfred. Alexander was only really interested in him when he had done something wrong again, or he simply dragged him around as Alexia’s appendage.

“Oh, Alfie. We don’t need him. We’ll just celebrate on our own. Do you want some cake? I want a slice now. And when we’ve finished eating, we’ll open the presents.”

---

“Looks like that was the last one,” Alfred said as he rummaged through the mountain of wrapping paper.

“No, not quite yet. I’ve got another present for you too. Here it is. And this time, I chose it, not Father.”

“Alexia. Thank you. But you...”

“No. Don’t say anything, Alfie. Think of it as an apology for not being able to play with you so much lately. And now unwrap it already.” Alfred tore the wrapping paper and pulled out the VHS tape. Mary had put the movie in the empty Disney movie case.

“Sleeping Beauty?” Her brother looked confused.

“Just watch the movie, but when Father is not around. I’m sure you’ll like this version of Sleeping Beauty.” Alfred grinned.

“So, what is it really?”

“That’s a surprise.”

Suddenly, the door opened, and their father entered the room.

“Did you have fun? Good.” The twins didn’t answer and just stared at him skeptically.

“I know I promised I’d be here today, but there were problems with the ventilation system. All hell broke loose in the labs. I couldn’t leave. Everything’s back up and running now.” Alexander waited a few seconds for a reaction from his children. As there was no response, he continued. “Well, I’ve taken the day off tomorrow. So, what do you say if we catch up on the party tomorrow?”

[1] Andrew is Edward’s half-brother (Alfred and Alexia’s granduncle). He is only 2 years older than Alexander, though. His daughter Mary is 5 years older than the twins. Nora is Arthur’s 2nd wife and the Andrew’s mother, not Edward’s.

[vodika-vibes]

Fox can’t resist PA we all knew that 😏

He can not. He's a little pathetic when it comes to them. But that's okay because every strong man needs someone they're a little pathetic about.

It must be a kind of funny thing to see, Fox decides after the first few interviewees look between him and Yuu in absolute bewilderment. Yuu, after all, it tiny. The top of their head reaches his collar bone, and he knows they come by it honestly because Yuu's dad barely comes up to his chin. They're just a petite family. But with Yuu sitting on his knees and dealing with the majority of the interviewing, he has to wonder if the men and women that are being interviews think that Yuu is their boss rather than him. Stars, he hopes so. He doesn't need more people to manage. "What do you think, little bird? Anyone catch your eye?" Fox asks during a short break while they wait for the next batch of applicants to arrive. "Mm. They're all very...young." They say slowly. Fox releases a laugh, "Says the person who became the most influential person on Coruscant when they were 18." "Yeah, but..." There's a line between their brows, "My job isn't dangerous, all things considered. This is." Fox reaches up and lightly rubs the line off of their brow with his thumb, "It's not like they're going to be out there on their own. They're going to be working with some of my brothers." "...Mm...that's true..." Yuu pauses, "Honestly, I'm more concerned by the fact that not a single one of them has questioned that I'm the one doing the interviews." Fox grimaces, "I don't mind if they think you're in charge, because you are. I answer directly to you and no one else, but-" "But there's a difference to you calling me a 1 am because you need me to deal with a problem, and one of them calling me because they don't know the chain of command." Yuu finishes. Fox opens his mouth to reply, but stops when the door clicks open and an older man walks into the room. He pauses, looks at Yuu, and then at Fox, and then at Yuu again. He's a human man, probably in his early 40s, with his hair starting to gray, "Good morning," He says slowly, "My name is Robert Dayne. I was told that all current Fire Captains need to speak with the new Commander." His gaze flickers over to Fox, "That would be you, sir?" Yuu and Fox share a look, "That would be me, yes." Fox says, "You're the first Captain to come and visit, Captain Dayne." "Yes Sir, Today's my day off." "Ah, apologies then." Fox replies, "Yuu-" "Mm...Maybe virtual interviews?" They offer, "I'll think on it." "Have a seat captain," Fox says as Yuu hands him his resume, "I just have a few questions. You needn't worry, this isn't an interview, it's just me making sure I know the men who do work under me." Captain Dayne relaxes, "Yes sir."

[rook-writes-empty]

1902, Kentucky.

The fire’s gone out.

Turn a little deeper into the cotton quilt your mama made in some other lifetime. Blink slow against the dimness, steep deep in the stillness as the night stretches, yawns, gives way to a blessed new morning. You are alive again.

Cold and hungry. Feel the stiffness in your bones. Feel the heavy in your flesh. The tired, the lonely, the longing. But there’s a heart thumping under your ribs—feel it sing, slow and steady, at the sight of sunbeams. Sunbeams, again, like every morning that’s ever been. Sunbeams—new every day to a heart like yours, a heart that says: sunbeams, they’re a goddamn wonder.

Lead with it—that steady little drum of joy. Grab hold and let it pull your feet to the old floorboards. Little heart, pattering out a plea to see the sky—what shade of blue today? The question is as good a reason as any to commit to another day.

Dress in the gray light. Pull on the flannels and linen and denim that will keep the cold at bay. Keep your body safe. You know what’s at stake, kid. You know what it takes—to keep your body safe.

Breathe deep, cough against the rush of the cold—your breath hangs in the air. Little ghosts. Water from the bucket by the window, splashed against your face—close to frozen, stings against your skin. You’re awake. You’re alive.

Pull on leather boots, hope the laces got another day in them. Walk out into the wide world—see the slope of the clearing you made, the way the high grass meets a wall of trees—trees bigger than god, and maybe older, too. They hug in tight around your slice of paradise, your hard-hewn home. They form a cathedral of green—and brown and gold and flashes of deep, dark red. Like old blood, dried in a smear under your heavy, swollen lip after your Pa had finally had enough of you.

There’s a quiet here so deep you can feel it in your bones. Quiet like the moment after the preacher asks for bowed heads, but before he starts praying for hell to swallow all the sinners like you. Quiet like the first girl you ever loved, in that moment after you spilled that soft, silly confession to her—but before that foreign hardness took her face, before the slow panic and repulsion made her a stranger you’d never met. Quiet like that moment when you learned your first lesson in self-preservation: love is for other people. Better people.

It’s a real shame, kid—the way the world kicks around beautiful things.

But you’re alright here, ain’t you? You’re alright. You feed the bleating sheep in their little pasture, and the chickens, too, and you love that there’s life in every inch of this place. The sheep, the sun, the seeds in the ground—they don’t give a shit who you are or what you’ve done. What you look like, what you own. You give to them, they give back. You’re alright here.

You go down to the crick for water, just as the sun starts pouring proper down into your little dip between the hills. You can feel it, warm and easy against the back of your neck. The cold can’t hold you forever. Nothing can hold you forever.

The afternoon brings a visitor—a boy, a horse, an empty cart, trundling up the holler path. You split one more log, let the pieces fall, lean the ax against the same post where you’ve hung your shed coat. The boy hops down from his saddle, raises a hand in greeting.

Brought your saw back.

He lifts the tool in question for you to see.

Pa sends his thanks.

You take the saw, and he dives into his bag to bring out a small parcel wrapped in a bit of an old flour sack.

Cornbread from Mama.

You thank him for returning the saw, and for the cornbread. He’s tall and lean—maybe a little underfed. His shoes are two sizes too small. His coat’s missing a few buttons. A boy still, pushing at the seams of what will come next. His parents can’t keep up.

You ask if they need any firewood. He refuses, says his Pa won’t accept charity. You eye the empty cart his Pa sent along with him.

You tell him he can take whatever he can split—ain’t charity if you’ve sweat for it. By the evening, he has a full cart, and you split the cornbread with him on the porch.

And maybe it’ll all count for something someday. Maybe it’ll all count when hell finally swallows you up.

Before he leaves, he stops there on the creaky old steps, looks back up at you.

Pa says you’re a good, Christian man, sir. He thinks mighty high of ye. Just thought you oughta know.

Maybe it’ll all count, when his Pa has to help put you in the ground someday.

When the evening comes, you retreat inside. Feed the fire, warm the place up. Cold dinner, ‘cause your body’s awful tired, kid. Your mind, too. You dig up a box of tobacco, take a pinch and pack it into a pipe you won in a game of cards—maybe one of the finest items you own. You sit on the porch and watch the last of the burnt bronze evening melt back into the trees. You’re alright here.

Just as the darkness of the night swells up, you see the flicker of a lantern up yonder on the hill—a soft, yellow star moving through the trees.

Could be anyone. Could be the boy, come back for more wood. Or this could be the moment everything unravels. Could be the night they drag you behind a horse, put you in a tree, bury you as someone you’re not.

You aren’t scared, but you’re ready—you fold your fingers around the rifle leaned next to the door and wait for hell to open up and swallow the sinners like you.

A quiet knock.

You open the door.

It’s her. The widow from over the next holler. She stands silent in the doorway, and her dark, tired eyes meet yours. She’s dry as a bone, but in the empty pools of shadow cast by her lantern, you could swear she was a drowning woman.

You let her step inside and you exchange pleasantries, as you always do on these visits. She asks after the book she loaned you—have you been enjoying it? You confess you haven’t had much time for reading. She offers to read a chapter or two aloud for you.

That’d be real nice, ma’am.

But neither of you moves to retrieve the book. Her hands cling to the black linen skirts of her dress, knuckles gone white with it. You can feel the empty, howling grief that came in with her, followed her like a roving spirit. You wish you knew how to help.

She cuts the space between you in half a step and touches her lips to yours. She tastes like tears and uncertainty and so many sleepless, heartsick nights.

It’s not proper. It’s not the way things ought to be. It’s not what either of you imagined, back when you were small and the world told you what your hearts should want. But no one prepares you, do they? For the weight of it all. For the sadness that creeps in between the boards, settles into your chest like a cough you can’t shake. For the way the haints and hurts hollow you out, slow and steady, until you wake up one day feeling like maybe you ain’t even a real person anymore.

You know she’s just lonely. You know she misses her husband and that you ain’t him. Don’t wanna be him. But when she pulls off your clothes, all those layers of the day—when she sinks in against you, meets your skin to hers—you remember, for a moment, that you’re wonderfully, terribly, brilliantly human. And that’s enough.

Later, in the deepest part of the night, she does read to you. Her voice dips and lulls through the bare little room, until you can’t really distinguish the words themselves—all you can hear is low, lush birdsong, and the content thumping of your own heart.

You sleep the sleep of the safe and relieved—heavy, deep sleep—and by the morning—

—the fire’s gone out.

You watch as she dresses silently in the first sunbeams of the day. As she leans in toward your dusty little mirror and pins her hair back into place. Hasty, but careful. She gathers her things, prepares to leave.

She hesitates, turns back to you in your bed. Maybe you could pretend to be asleep, but—you’ve been seen now. There’s no going back.

There’s a long, soundless moment that stretches out in the space between you. She says:

You aren’t a man.

Statement or question or accusation—you can’t be sure what she means. Can’t be sure that it matters. You give no response.

But underneath your mother’s quilt, your hands begin to tremble with fear.

She leans down, kisses your forehead with reverence, the way folks kiss the statues of saints. Or maybe it’s with pity, the way folks woulda kissed the corpses of those saints before they put them in the ground.

She leaves you there with your trembling hands.

And the fire’s gone out.

[melissamasakari]

Confessions you didn't notice

Chapter two. Birthday mess.

Sam's birthday went according to plan. In the morning I managed to catch her on the way back from training (and I even managed to cover my ears and not go deaf from Paulie’s screams!) and gave her a gift.

“Wow! Is this a ’snakebite’?! I didn't even dream of it. You're an angel!”

“Glad you like it. Evening plans are still valid?”

“Of course. That will be me and you only. Phyllis is on duty today, but I'll take her out for lunch. And Cap,” she turned around, looking at the dust slowly settling after her boss flew past, winding another circle, “had let me go early today”.

“What a generosity!” I deliberately clasped my hands. “Are we sure we’re there will be no one else?”

“I didn’t plan it. Remy is on Patrol around the abandoned ruins, Arlo, as usual, has carloads of papers and reports for the evening. And he also was talking about a bunch of commissions for materials. Well, he probably just came up with an excuse,” she shrugged with annoyance.

“Oh... that will be mine commissions, it seems. The poor fellow will completely drive himself away at this rate.”

“Don’t worry, he’s crazy like this every autumn. Just another week and he will calm down. He’ll just become an ordinary grumbler again.”

“With some itchy feet,” I couldn’t help but add quietly. Sam burst out laughing and ran off.

We had a great time in the evening as expected, collecting a ton of tokens from Django’s. I think we even emptied his entire prize pool till next year. He looked annoyed at first, but then he expressed his joy out loud and called us walking advertisements for an arcade.

Two days later I was persistently reminded that it turned out to be my birthday. Even pa sent a postcard from somewhere in his wasteland. Just amazing! He should have dispatched it at the beginning of summer for it to arrive in time. Ginger sent me a great necklace by the mail. I don’t usually wear this type of jewelry, but she will definitely be pleased if I come to a party in it. Gust sent... what is this, an umbrella? And with my signature stamp? He is crazy or something? By now the whole city should have noticed that I really hate umbrellas! And those hats are also dumb! And just then it started to rain, how predictable!

From time to time appearing at home between trips to work, I was surprised to observe the endless flow of townspeople at my fence gate. They looked around very funny, leaving boxes and parcels at the mailbox. Many gifts were without signatures or cards, but it was not difficult to guess the giver. In the mailbox there was even a note with threats and a demand to sell my workshop and get out. Probably Higgins...or those loser scammers. Well, let's see what kind of loot I’ve got. There is food from Emily and Martha, a cool warm jacket from Carol (I've been meaning to order it for a long time!), a carpet from Gale, another carpet from Sonya, a cool pot of flowers from Alice. Oh, what else is there? The box contained exactly the same black dress as I wore on that ill-fated day. The sweepingly and beautifully signed card read: “Shine bright too! I love you. Antoine!” Wow. ‘Black glow’? That’s unheard of. Well, okay, so there will be a spare one if I screw up somehow. And this is where the boxes end. And letters, too. Oh, wait. At the bottom of the box was a letter from Petra with blueprints and congratulations. And a very official paper from the Civil Corps with an apology for the delay of my commission and hopes for patience and calm. Damn red-block-head! But at least he definitely didn’t eavesdrop.

Sam found me late at night diligently threshing punching sacks. We had a nice chat and exchanged news. She handed me a cool roomy bag with the logos of Flying pigs stitched over as decorations. Hand sewn, that’s amazing!

“Do you like it? I wasn't sure since you didn't answer my question.”

“Amazing!” I couldn’t contain my delight and hugged her tightly. “Where did You get it? There are so many pockets, you are a miracle!”

“I bought the basic one from Carol and spent a long time fiddling with the decorations. It turned out a little clumsily, but I...” She drawled guiltily.

“Are you kidding?! In fact, it’s hard for me to imagine you doing needlework and here it is! When did you found time? No one has ever bothered like this for me before. Well, mom, maybe. And it was very long time ago so I almost don’t remember her.”

“I'm glad I guessed right. Cheer up, kid, I need to run further along the route before anyone notices that I’m skiving.”

Having assured that all the urgent work was going as it should I crawled away to rest. The weather was pleasant in the morning; the mud from yesterday's downpour had even dried out. After reporting on the projects to the guild, I decided to take a leisurely jog around the pond to relieve some turmoil from my head. Relieve, however, did not happen – obsessive thoughts followed me around. We even didn’t have a proper conversation. It's a pity. Maybe I should seek him out again? Come on, that's bullshit. I have much more important things to do. Gale has generously piled me with interesting work again, so I’ll try to throw myself into it and just wait till the rest of the fall. Apparently I made the wrong wish on the Day of Memories when I was releasing a flying lantern into the sky.

Until next Friday I honestly kept my promise to immerse myself in work. I fulfilled several large orders, took inventory, went through a bunch of paperwork, and, while making another small commission, decided to beat up my training dummies.

“Are you training?” out of surprise, I jumped abruptly high in the air and in a turn stroked the visitor with my knee in the shoulder.

And Arlo didn't even wince.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that sneaking is bad? And you have to knock!”

“Somebody once told me. And I knocked. Your fence gates are always opened anyway. Great shot, by the way!” He rubbed the bruised area, shook himself off and continued. “So just how busy are you?”

“It depends on what do you need me for. Are we expected to save the world again?” Remembering the last episode with the sewer repair I asked cautiously. I really didn’t expect that he would show up in person! Finally!

“No, it’s not that bad. I just got a little carried away and broke my training dummy. Can you make me a new one?” He nodded towards my equipment for blowing off steam. “I see you already know how – you don’t even have to look for blueprints. Will you take my commission?”

“Wait a minute. I made one for you recently. What did you hit it with, a hammer or something?”

“As it turns out I need something sturdier.”

“Okay, just how urgent is it?” And why do I keep thinking that I’m missing the chance to ask questions that are of much more interest for me?

“Can you have it done before the Snowball Battle? I don't want to miss my training for so long.”

“I have one condition. No, two.”

“I'm hanging on your words!”

“You still need to have a break from your training. You have been delaying my orders for the third week a row!”

“Sorry, something happened,” he shrank guiltily.

“I know what could have happened to you!” I blurted out, shaking my fist at him. Is it just my imagination or is there someone giggling there from behind the fence?

“What is the second condition?”

“I want to challenge you to a snowball battle. I have already beaten you in land run, but in the martial arts tournament I consider it was a technical draw.”

“A draw? You knocked me out of the finals! I didn't even understand how it happened. Twice.”

“So, you remember. And then Russo almost broke all my ribs. I should have left him to you. Or at least get some proper sleep before that fight...”

“Come on?! No preparation and you just rushed to thrash the butler. And if it’s of any consolation I didn’t have a chance against Russo either. He used to be a Civil corps leader after all.”

“Don't change the subject. I still have to invent an arlo-proof dummy, you know.”

“Yes, sure. I don't usually do snowball fighting, but why not? I haven’t done anything other than work and training for a long time.”

“Well, before I forget. How did your exams go?”

“It’s better not to ask,” he immediately drooped. Was it really THAT bad? He was running around like crazy all month.

“It's a pity. Sorry. So my lucky fist-holding didn't work. Next time I'll cross my fingers for you. They say it works better,” I made an appropriate encouraging gesture.

“It’s okay, I’ll survive. Looks like I'm still not good enough.”

“Then they are all blind there if they think so.”

Putting on an air of importance he cheerfully said goodbye and disappeared again into the landscape behind my fence gate. Just like deja vu. Looking for clues for the task he had given me I decided to visit Petra. We spent all day brainstorming and finally came up with a plan. There's just a little bit left to do – I have to get everything done in a week, unless urgent problem is rushed onto me. I had to hang around in the ruins all weekend and replenish supplies of materials; if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to start testing my arlo-proof-something by Wednesday.

On Tuesday morning Arlo reappeared on his own out of the blue. Sure, I don’t usually immediately notice if someone is looming around the fence, since it's such a common thing. There is always someone running around my place as if it is some tourist attraction. And almost half of the heads usually sticking up over the fence here are all red, well, including my own. I perfectly fit into the picture here, nothing more to say.

Why is Arlo acting so strange? So very weird. He just walks back and forth in front of my fence gate but for some reason he doesn’t try to come in or knock. So I decided to hail him myself.

“Arlo? Hey, come in, don’t circle around there or you’ll trample a hole in the road!” I shouted from the height of the second floor of the assembly station. Zero reaction. What's wrong with him? “Sky to the Captain, do you copy?! Captain Arlo, confirm the operation status! Repeat: confirm the operation status, Captain!”

“I asked you not to call me so!” He pouted, but at least he restored his touch with reality. I'll save this feat for the future.

“Come in, I said. I’ll come down soon,” I pointed with my hand into the yard, “or, if you’re not in a hurry, you can wait for me in the house.”

At the second offer he somehow stretched himself out with some nervousness, shook his head negatively, and in a couple of jumps found himself near the workbench. Having finished assembling another very important thing, I went to find out what was going on felling intrigued.

“Are you’re looking for your dummy? I planned to finish it tomorrow, well, Thursday at latest. I still need to test it, at least minimally.”

“Are you going to hit it with a pickaxe?” Hinting at the obvious difference in strength, he nodded towards my rather battered punching sacks hanging near the stable. “But no. That's not what I'm after.”

“Then what's up?” I wiped my hands with a rag and inquired.

“I was thinking. Maybe we can go somewhere together? Tomorrow.”

“Are bandirates invited to this party? Or maybe an ensemble of jumping dancers? An honor guard from the city administration? We seem to have agreed on a fest on Friday.”

“The festival is still valid, of course. But I would like to do something, well, more tranquil.”

“For example? Just don’t offer to go jogging and training!” I wonder if I’m daydreaming again, or is this a date? Judging by what I know, it’s definitely not his promotion party.

“How about we go to Django's? Then we can book an arcade hall or take a walk to the beach.”

“Beach in winter? Your tastes are little specific, you know.” I pointed out slightly sarcastically as I was trying not to show my excitement.

“I would suggest a haunted cave instead, but it’s slippery there now. And also cold. The atmosphere is the best, of course. It's creepy and disgusting. You may get sick, and instead of having fun you'll end up with a full pack of new problems”.

“Fair point. So tomorrow, a restaurant. In the evening?”

“Yeah, let's go in the evening. In the morning the hall is packed. At lunchtime there are always some of the bosses present. This will be no rest either.”

“Then where do we meet and what about the dress code?”

“I can come to fetch you. By seven. Is it fine?”

“Are you ignoring the second question on purpose, or is there some hidden meaning?”

“On this matter I am only a so-so adviser. I'll leave it you. Just make sure you're warm and comfortable enough. I know you’re still not very used to the snowy winter.”

“Acknowledged. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow,” we bumped fists in goodbye.

In joyful anticipation I cheerfully completed most of the work planned for the whole week. I even managed to go and report on everything urgent. All that was left was that arlo-proof dummy. Sam caught me finishing it the next morning.

“Wow, what a monstrosity you are building here!” Her delighted voice came from behind the fence.“Can I check it out?”

“Come in, just don’t touch anything yet. It's not really bolted. I still need to tighten it up a little more and check it. And just then it will be ready to be screwed to some fairly heavy stand. So I just drove it into the ground so far. For tests.”

“Did you call a tester?” Sam inquired busily and patted her boxing glove with her hand.

“Let the owner test it himself. I really hope that at least he won’t hurt himself in the process”.

“This thing will be moved to the headquarters?”

“Bingo! Certainly. I'm already working on the second design.”

“What a colossus!”

“Yeah, I’m very interested to see how he’s going to get this thing uphill. I have never seen any transport usable to moving up the ice slide that the ramp in the park has turned into.”

“He'll figure it out. For the sake of resuming training he will do just everything. I was surprised that he even cleared away all the papers! Has he sent you all your materials? Or was I running around for nothing?”

“As far as I remember I still need leather and fur. I managed to get some for urgent orders myself. So, I'm not worried yet. But if there’s some lying around at the headquarters, just whistle and I’d better come and pick it up. Oh, by the way. Your order is ready too, I was going to catch you tomorrow. Wait a minute. And pass me that metal thing, please.”

“Oh, great. Glad I dropped by.”

“Are you in a hurry? I could use your help.”

“Not too much. What’s what you need?”

“A trivial girly thingy. I've nothing to wear.”

“Now that is interesting. People don’t usually come to me for something like that,” she laughed.

“I’m not going to ask Antoine for help and then be unable to get away from him. He gifted me a dress, can you imagine? And even signed a postcard.”

“Come on?! Show me!”

As we entered the house together I opened the closet and invited my friend to rummage through it while I washed myself off after the dirty work.

“So how do you like my booty?” I went out in my usual home attire, preparing to inspect my scarce selection of clothes.

“Here is plenty to choose from. So what’s the occasion and plan of the event?”

“I would have liked to know the occasion myself. I've been told it will be a restaurant and a walk. The sequence is arbitrary. Also I don't want to suffer from frostbite. And I don’t want to look like an unwashed miner either. As such, everything is as usual.”

“Okay. Then let's try this out” Sam surprisingly quickly put together a cool set for me. Then another one. And another still. How come I’ve got so many clothes?

As I’ve tried out everything offered, we looked at the clock and found that lunch was almost over. So we had to finally choose and we settled on a practical classic. As result two almost identical girls, a blonde and a redhead, looked at us from the mirror, smiling provocatively. The difference was in the details and some little things. My jacket was warmer and longer still, bright blue – made of Slurpee leather. And the jeans were perfect – gray, with a lot of pockets. My only warm and non-slip boots also fit well. I’ll even wear my new necklace with these. And also I’m going to take with me my current favorite bag.

“You are my savior! Drop by on any weekend – I’ll treat you to home-cooked lunch.

“Splendid! They say you almost beat Django in the Cook off. Sorry I missed everything. Usually that competition includes a lot of my favorite dishes.”

“Let's catch up then. And here's your order.”

To pass time til the evening I decided to tinker with the paperwork that I usually do on Saturdays. However, Arlo did not appear at the appointed time. Nothing new. I was about to go “test” his order, and I even got to made a couple of test kicks when I heard noise from behind the fence.

“Look what the cat dragged in! You can arrange transportation for your new toy,” I began instead of greeting and waved my fist invitingly.

“Oh can I try it out?”

“Just without zeal. I already thought you wouldn't come at all.”

“Sorry. I was sorting out complaints from one workshop. It turns out that you are accused of stealing a pickaxe. A bronze one!”

“What kind of jerk took a risk? I have had only iron ones for a long time. You know that.”

“Yeah, well enough. That's why the investigation took so much time. I had to collect evidence in the first abandoned ruins in order to prosecute him for libel. He will be an eyesore for me until the end of the week in the jail now,” he said indignantly but rather threateningly, and made a couple of test blows at the dummy.

“It was Higgins, wasn’t it? Ugh, I'm sorry. Consider yourself forgiven. And as such you already punished yourself for being late.”

“So generous. And this toy turned outto beexcellent! I had no doubts, of course. You’re a great builder after all. But you managed to exceed all expectations.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a basement anywhere? Otherwise it might, uh, break through the floor or something.”

“Don't worry. I won’t put it on the second floor, but it’s the clinic where there is a basement, not our place. Are you ready?”

“If you are ready to give up trying to break this monstrosity. At least until Sunday.”

“Yeah, sorry. Let's go. We should practice together sometime.”

“No way.” I closed the house and checked the gate.“I won’t spar with you anymore.”

“And why is that? It was great! I enjoyed it very much!”

“Because I still plan to beat you in the tournament next summer, of course!”

“And just how will joint training interfere with this?”

“You will be ready for my surprises that way. That's not very interesting.”

“Do you have any other strange techniques up your sleeve?”

“Just you wait and see.”

“We've arrived.” Arlo opened the door, letting me in first. Well, that's nice.

Oh, a cozy little fenced-in nook. Seems like a good spot, not too close to tables intended for large groups or business meetings, but, to my sorrow, uncomfortably close to the entrance and also in a draft. That's where we headed. Why am I so nervous? Well, I only dreamed about this for almost a whole month. Cheer up, girl! So, I allowed myself to be pampered a little tint bit, and we sat down opposite each other. The distance seems to be decent. Calm down, Melissa, breathe. Nothing is happening yet.

“You said that you come here often.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Then explain such abnormal excitement around.”

“You think so? It seems like it's always like this.”

“I don’t know how to put this. Usually when I get here, that’s either Sam who pulls me out into a noisy crowd of people or I just hang out alone at the counter and sometimes discuss new recipes with Django if he's not too busy. And now it feels like as soon as we entered the entire staff dropped what they were doing and began circling nearby.”

“If you hadn’t pointed this out I wouldn’t have noticed. For some reason such a stir happens every time I come in.”

“So it's clear. This means that in an hour at most the whole city will already be gossiping about seeing us here together.”

“And so what? Just let them say and think what they want. This doesn't bother me at all. Does it disturb you, maybe?” To my surprise he really guessed it! It’s unlikely that he’s always hanging out privately with the girls here. Otherwise Sonya would have already told everyone. Now she’ll definitely talk about this little visit of ours, oh crap.

“Not that much. Maybe on the contrary it will be beneficial and yield more orders,” I said, putting on an overly cheerful appearance. It’s also quite possible that those Nora of his will bite me in the face later. Who knows what these church apprentices are up to?

“By the way about orders. I mean what are we going to order?”

“Let me think. Will we have separate account? I'm quite happy with today's dish of the day, a couple of crepes for dessert, and some hot tart drink like tea or coffee.”

“If it’s more comfortable for you, let’s have separate.”

It is not at all surprising that Sonya was hovering somewhere nearby and instantly materialized as soon as Arlo waved his hand. We said hello again I told what I wanted and discussed the conditions. Then it was my companion’s turn and he immediately ordered a total five of his least favorite dishes. I was terribly surprised and immediately tried to talk him out from this dumb idea.

“Wait, you don’t like sweets. And you’ve said SO many times that you can’t stand steamed potato fruit. Are you sick by any chance? There are also three sweet dishes and even a dessert. Arlo, what's wrong with you?”

The waitress chuckled softly. Really, she knows better than anyone in this small town each persons preferences in food. There is nowhere else to go here to be honest.

“I was quite healthy this morning, thank you. I don't know I just wanted to try something new. Or give this food a second chance, something like that.”

“Okay, we’ll always have time to add something else.”

Sonya accepted our orders and finally left, smiling mysteriously and gracefully swaying her hips.

“So, how it is? Do you regret moving here yet?”

“No way. Apart from this cold winter and an excessively humid, rainy summer, I am quite okay. I'm not swallowing sand each time I need to go outside. And the skin does not crack if I forget to hide it from the sun. And my job is really interesting. I even have made some friends! And there is a small but pleasant bonus: my aunt can’t reach me here and has finally stopped trying to micro-manage my life.”

“How‘ s that?”

“Well, you know. She breathed down my neck all the time with her advice. Don’t talk with these people – they’ll teach you all bad things! Just tie the knot and be fixed for life. But you’re not allowed to be friends with this guy and that gal. Blah-blah-blah and stuff like that. She was so overbearing that she even distracted me from studying and working normally.”

“Understood. Sorry for asking.”

“Come on. Here I can at least breathe normally and be myself. Do what I want. Talk to everyone I like, and not with those who passed Kendra’s selection.”

“Do you think I'd pass?”

“Well, it's a good question. I didn't even think about it this way. Besides, I just don't give a fuck anymore. If she’d not like you, that would be her problem! It’s quite enough that I like you. But if you insist I can speculate what it would look like. Just for fun.”

“Try it, I’m curious, if it will not make you sad.”

“Well considering what I've heard about you from others... Hmm. I suspect she would be over the moon that I have a friend like you. Kendra would brag to all of her friends, driving away their ugly, boring momma's boys. But I just won't let this happen, okay? I only recently stopped receiving trainloads of letters from her demanding to account for every step. “

“Well, I haven’t seen something like this before, and it’s hard for me to comprehend it right now. I won't ask again, I promise.”

“Agreed. It’s like we came to have fun, not to pick at sores.”

“Exactly,” he was still noticeably saddened, even hovered a little. Somehow the conversation wasn’t going well, and I started to get even more nervous.

Our order arrived. Predictably, as Arlo never liked sweets, he turned even sourer. And he also flatly refused the offer to order something tastier or at least filling. Oh, damn it, what to do with him? I should have confessed to him near the house and found out everything! There are too many extra ears here, and it feels like they are all crowding around. I can’t ask about exams as he would have told me about work himself. In a fit of panic I fidgeted with my bag, I don’t quite understand what I was trying to find there except for keys and a set of tools. A first aid kit, maybe?

“Wow, what a cool bag do you have here. Did you do it yourself? I want one too!”

“No, it was not me. And there will be no repeat, this is a one-off.”

“Why is this?”

“It’s a present. Handmade. So it’s really hard to repeat.”

“It's a shame. Wait, a gift? From whom? Was there an occasion?”

“I won’t say from whom. But there was an occasion, yes.” I tried not to dwell on my disappointment from that day about how my “best friend” didn’t show up and didn’t even congratulate me with a postcard.

“I missed everything, right? How long ago?”

“In the fall,” Sonya came to put away the dishes, eavesdropped and tried not to giggle. I'll discuss it with her later. At least not in front of Arlo.

“Sorry. You were probably waiting, right?”

“Let’s just say, I hoped. At least that we could just meet up and chat. I definitely didn’t expect an apology for the delay of my order that arrived by mail. I missed you, by the way!” Oh, that was too loud. It seems like a couple of plates broke somewhere near, just a little short of reaching the kitchen.

“Can you pinpoint a date? I understand that I should have known this myself, but it has had totally washed out,” oh, what a guilty tone his voice has. I almost liked it.

“Not surprised. You were completely absorbed in the upcoming test. Twenty fifth.”

“Exactly. That was the last three days of preparation and run-up for the training ground. I utterly screwed up,” he hit himself on the forehead with his palm.

“Do not worry. I usually don't celebrate. This was I think the first year in the last... ten, or such that I had some festivities”.

“What kind of gifts do you like? Well, for the future,” have he perked up or something? It's nice.

“It’s hard to tell right away. I usually like something practical. The girls gave me a whole bunch of warm clothes. Now there is something to wear for work in and something fancy for special occasion. Just in case, I’ll tell you right now if you haven’t figured it out yet. I DO hate umbrellas! Anyone who dares to bring me an umbrella or any other thing that resembles it as a gift is at risk of getting it back, stuck up their ass and opened!”

I heard the door opening and the completely indecent laugh of Sonya and her group of friends three tables away. Antoine cackled louder than anyone, even the chandelier above them swayed. Well, guess who got here... I think I have problems. It's probably too late to leave. I shrank all over in my seat and tried to pretend to be a decoration on the wall, checking the situation with my peripheral vision. The laughter can still be heard, but it seems that the storm had passed. Gust walked past with a poker face and disappeared somewhere at the entrance to the arcade hall. His pig jumped funnily after him. Now it was I who had to hold back my laughter. Arlo without any reaction to Gust calmly continued:

“Do you have any wishes?”

“About gifts, or about this evening?”

“Both.”

“I’m not going to the arcade now, okay?” I nodded towards the person who came in. “I don’t want to see him with his sour face. It will ruin the whole mood for me.”

“Understood. Let's bug out then? “He winked conspiratorially and helped me to get ready to leave. Just in case I left a generous tip for my part of the order. I hope my hint will be taken.

We walked out into the refreshingly cool, clear night. The city had not yet begun to decorate for the winter festivals, it was quiet and calming. The yellow lanterns shone comfortably. I was really proud of making them! The shops had long been closed, and on the way to the Central square we didn’t even meet anyone. Sam's light wasn't on – she was most likely on duty. I was very relaxed so I didn’t even notice how we ended up at the swing near the school. But why not?

“Do you want to swing? New competition?” Arlo perked up noticeably and cheerfully sat down on the second swing nearby, as soon as I sat down on mine.

“You wanted quiet leisure time. Don't overexert - you'll fall out. Or wind will inflate your head,” I slowly began a test swinging, “I have a light form of motion sickness.”

“Then why did you do such tricks at the land run?”

“I had to quickly dust off my rusty skills. I have a complicated relationship with horses. And that stallion, moreover, was rented and too nasty. But it was fun!”

“Never DO that again. No one would even notice in time that something went sideways! You looked so confident.” I can hear rising anger in his voice. “And for your skills, we’ll come up with something if you wish.”

“Personal riding instructor? Sounds tempting. But first I will have to fix the issue with the stable and look for an opportunity to buy a horse. I need to wait until that tame filly I noticed at McDonald's grows up,” I said and then immediately imagined how ridiculous it all would look. Crap.

“Maybe you can start with something more trivial? Llamas are quite good for taming.”

“I hope this isn’t a veiled insult about my petite size. It's enough that Sam teases me about it regularly. But she's allowed to.”

“Why should I tease you? I like the way you are. And, by the way, why should Sam tease you? You two are almost of the same height.”

“It’s not really about height,” I jokingly pushed him under the elbow with my palm, slightly disturbing the balance of the swing. “We quickly befriended, and I got tired of her calling me builder. It was too formal. She called me “little fella” or “kid” one day and it stuck. Strange, because it’s not much shorter than my actual name. But I didn’t argue anymore.”

“Understood. Don't push me, or we'll get swings twisted.”

“Come on, I don’t have the strength to move you.”

“But you still managed to win a spar.”

“I’m still convinced that you gave in.”

“I wouldn’t have thought,” he got from the swing and walked around me from behind and grabbed the chains of my swing right above my hands. Satisfied, he looked down at me and offered to swing me. Starting to blush deeply, I nodded in agreement. For some time, only the rustling creaking of the rig was heard from above. I need to come back here sometime soon and oil all the bearings.

“Is it okay? Not too fast? Not frozen yet?”

“Fine. And what?”

“You look so good with such a blush on you, you know. It's getting late. Do you want me to lead you home?”

“Only if you come up for tea,” the swing gradually stopped.

“I don’t want to abuse your hospitality. Let's leave the tea for another time, okay?”

“Deal,” I got off my seat, and we headed towards the stairs.

Having climbed a few steps up, Arlo turned around, waved his hand at me and said: “See you Friday, sweetie!” and sped up the hill.

I'm looking forward to it. Wait, how did he call me? I definitely misheard!

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Content Warning: 18+

This story includes explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship (MC is 26, Javi is in his 40s). Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 7

Wait.

That is all I did this weekend. Wait and try and catch my breath. When I woke up on Saturday morning, I had all but convinced myself that Friday night had been a dream. But I could still feel his lips on my neck, and my wrists still tingled from his hands binding them together. Come Monday morning, I had now taken a total of three cold showers.

Lana had called Friday night, Saturday morning, and Saturday afternoon. It wasn't until she threatened to get the authorities involved that I called her back. I love Lana, and I tell her everything, but a part of me liked that this was just between Javi and me. Truthfully, I hadn't even had the opportunity to have any secrets from Lana. And I liked having a secret life for once. Even if I only kept the secret for about twenty-four hours.

I didn't give her all the details. The suspicious side of me wondered if he could sue me if he found out I had spilled all of our dirty laundry. Not that we had a lot of it. And I know Lana wouldn't tell, but we all work together. Surely it could get back to him somehow. In the end, I decided to tell her the facts, and leave out the dialogue during our kiss. The only person I wanted to confess my lust to was him.

That part had really been nagging at me. I confessed that I wanted him, and he said he felt the same way, and then he left. Kissed my forehead, and left. After I had my breathing back under control, I wondered if I had done something wrong. But I'd pushed that thought away as much as possible. I didn't want to be that person. As much as I was attracted to him, I wasn't going to let him make me question my confidence.

That is, until I stepped on to set.

It's not that I'm not acting confident, it's just that I can sense that I'm acting differently. Evidenced by the fact that I wore a dress today. Never in my life as a PA have I worn a dress to work. The amount of bending over and hustling we do just doesn't allow for it. But when I woke up today, and I remembered how good it felt to feel Javi's slacks against my bare legs, I pulled out this green wrap dress first thing.

I've now made it almost half the day without seeing him. Apparently over the weekend, Lloyd had some sort of epiphany and decided to shoot things in a different order than we'd scheduled. I don't think Lloyd understands that epiphanies are supposed to be rare. Now, the entire crew is in shambles. I've been assisting almost every department today, and by the time we get through with lunch, I'm starting to regret my choice of attire.

"Dwayne to Ava." My walkie croaks.

"Go for Ava," I say, out of breath from carrying several pounds of wiring almost a mile across set.

"Hi Ava, Gutierrez is asking for you in his trailer."

"Really?" I squeak, "I mean, did he say what I should bring him?" I tried to recover from my excitable first response.

"No, he didn't say. Just go check it out, would you? And then we're going to need you on soundstage one."

"Copy!" I hope he takes my excited tone as a frantic one. Today of all days, that wouldn't be surprising.

I take my time walking to his trailer. I wish I had seen him in the beginning of the day before everything got so hectic. I'm sure the chaos was written all over my face, and my dress was all wrinkled now. Even so, nothing would prevent me from knocking on his door.

"Come in!" I hear him call and my stomach lurches.

When I enter the trailer, I'm surprised to see another man standing next to Javi in front of the kitchenette. In my startled state, I blurt out, "Mr. Gutierrez!" as if it's him I'm surprised to see, in his own trailer, where I was called to meet him.

He looks amused. "Mr. Gutierrez? So formal, Ms. Cohen. I thought we were better acquainted than that," he takes a slow sip out of the mug in his right hand. "Ava, this is Jonah Elrod, my lawyer."

"Oh," I blink before holding out my hand, "Nice to meet you."

Jonah takes my hand, smiling, "Likewise." He must be early thirties or so, but his smile is a bit crooked, giving him more of a boyish charm. He is tall, with light brown hair slicked neatly back to match his suit. "Javi, I'll be in touch," Jonah turns to the table, picking up a messenger bag before moving toward the door. "Ava, it was good to meet you," he smiles another crooked smile.

"You too," I say, and then he is gone. The sound of the door clicking seems to echo in the room for a long time. It takes me a moment before I can look at Javi. After everything on Friday, the tension seems to pull these walls tighter around us.

"Hi," Javi laughs lightly, his voice filled with the suggestion that he is feeling the tension too.

"Hi," I smile at him, feeling shy. "Why were you meeting with your lawyer? Or, wait I'm sorry I probably shouldn't ask that."

"You can ask me anything," he leans against the wall, "But I'm a little worried about scaring you off."

I think on that for a moment. He doesn't elaborate, he just keeps watching my face change from confused, to more confused.

"Oh my god," realization hits, "You need me to sign an NDA. Was I supposed to do that before our date? I mean, before...Friday happened?"

Javi's eyes widen. "What?" He puts his coffee down on the table, moving closer to where I am by the door. "No. You don't need to sign an NDA. And that wouldn't be your responsibility, it would be mine."

I just nod, and Javi takes a breath before continuing.

"Look, I'm not trying to insinuate anything. I don't want you to think that I'm asking for your hand in marriage after one date. But with your career, I wanted to make sure all of our bases are covered." He waits, looking to my face for reassurance. Honestly, I feel a lot better just knowing that he didn't summon me here to legally commit to not talking to someone about our date after I definitely already talked to someone about our date.

"Basically, I wanted to ask Jonah about paparazzi rights. See if there would be any legal ramifications for someone if they were to post a photo of us together without your permission. I'm free game, I signed up for this. But you didn't," he takes another step closer to me, his eyes sincere, "I want to apologize, Ava. I shouldn't have done what I did out in the open where anyone could have been lurking with a camera."

After a brief pause, I ask, "So that's why you asked me here?"

Javi nods.

"And here I thought you were going to apologize for not coming in for a night cap."

Javi chuckles, visibly relieved. "If I recall correctly, you didn't invite me in for a night cap."

"Well, my apologies. I was...preoccupied." If the air was thick before, that comment just added about twenty metric tons of tension on top of it.

"Jonah seems like a nice guy," I feel dumb saying it, but I can't let my last comment hang out in the air any longer.

"He's pretty great. I'm thinking of getting rid of him, though." Javi takes another step toward me. Thanks to the general small scale of trailers, he's now close enough that I have to lift my head to look him in the eye.

"Why's that?"

"He totally checked you out when he was leaving."

I half-laugh, half-snort. "He most certainly did not."

Javi ignores my comment, reaching his hand out and taking the tie at the waist of my dress in his hand, twisting it around his fingers.

"Can't blame him. It's this dress..." his gaze flickers up to mine. Hopeful. Hopeful and heated. "It's a very good color on you."

"I might have..." my cheeks blaze with my omission, "I might have picked it with you in mind." Javi's expression grows possessive. "Is that so?"

"Mmhm."

Javi leans forward, bringing his lips to my ear. "Did you think about me while I was away?"

My breathing hitches. I nod slowly. His free hand moves to the other side of my waist.

"Tell me." His voice is low and commanding.

"I thought about you all weekend," My voice trembles with excitement.

"Mmm," he hums, placing a featherlight kiss to my neck. A shiver runs down my spine underneath his hand. "What exactly did you think about?"

Tentatively, I look up and meet his gaze. The look in his eyes shoots straight to my core. His lids are hooded, his deep brown eyes wanting. I place both of my hands on either side of his face and pull him down to me. I kiss him gently, trying to remind myself to breathe. He is gentle too, though now both of his hands are on my back, inching their way down toward the hem of my dress. Before I know it, we're moving backward. I don't open my eyes, but Javi's embrace spins me. We continue to step backward until I make contact with the table in the kitchenette. His hands travel to my thighs as he bends down slightly, lifting me just enough so that I'm sitting on the table. The movement breaks us apart, and he takes the opportunity to grab my chin. He leans in so close that his lips brush mine as he speaks.

"Use your words," I feel his other hand on my knee, his fingers lightly skirting up under my dress, "Tell me what you wanted then."

With his hand firmly on my chin, there is nowhere else to look as I say, "I wanted you to come upstairs."

"What else?" His hand continues up my thigh.

"I wanted you to help me out of my dress." I have no hope of hiding how quickly my chest is rising and falling.

"Mmhm. That one was a bit shorter. I think it stopped...Here," he cuts a line across my upper thigh with his finger, "Is that right?"

"No," my eyes flutter shut, "It was higher."

He chuckles, low and gravelly. He moves his grip from my chin to the back of my neck.

"Look at me, Ava."

And I do. I look at him even though my face is on fire and my hands are shaking. I feel so exposed and still so secure. There is not a trace of apprehension in my nervous system. Looking at Javi right now, I feel so bare, yet so protected.

"Tell me where to stop." He commands. I nod in response, open-mouthed and unable to speak.

Eyes boring into mine, his other hand still on my neck, securing me in my place, he continues to work his hand up my thigh. He stops in a few places, pinching gently, drawing slow circles in others. Then he reaches my hip bone, where the side of my thong rests. I mentally thank my past self for having the decency to pick something other than Hanes this morning.

He toys with the fabric, sliding his fingers through it and out of it. His gaze keeps questioning, waiting to see when I tell him to stop. But I don't plan on ever making that request. As he realizes this still isn't too far, he hooks his finger underneath the lace, and slides his finger along until it rests in between my legs. I gasp now that he's not simply touching my leg. And even that was far from simple.

His movements still at my gasp, anticipating resistance.

"I didn't t-tell you to stop." My attempt at a seductive tone is hindered by my excited stutter.

He gives me a small smile, his eyes moving to my lips.

It distracts me for a moment, so I don't realize right away that he has now slipped his hand completely between my thong and my sex. His middle finger swipes upward, quick and unexpected.

"Oh!" I gasp once more, placing my hands on the table beneath me to steady myself. I toss my head back as far as it will go with Javi's hand still securing me in place. He does the motion again, and I stifle a moan. He continues this, and I can hear the wetness pooling between my legs with each stroke. Wanting the strokes to grow harder, I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. But that makes him stop. I snap my head up, eyes wide with panic.

He chuckles again at my bewildered expression, before moving his thumb to my clit.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not done with you yet." His calloused thumb starts to move in slow, delicious circles.

"My...god." I whisper, my legs starting to shake around his waist.

He leans forward, kissing my neck and collarbone as he continues. In between kisses, he says, "You said you'd never been kissed like that until the other night. What about this?" he gently bites underneath my ear, "Has anyone ever made you feel like this before?"

I bite my lip, shaking my head as I stifle another moan. My eyes are closed once again.

"I believe I asked you to use your words." He practically growls.

But I can't. I can't, I can't. It's too much. It feels too good. My hand flies up to his shoulder, grasping for support. I don't need to be steaded, rather I'm grasping at this feeling. I need more. His slow movements are driving me crazy.

"I want you to make me..." I don't even recognize my own voice.

"Keep talking."

"I want to–"

"Dwayne for Ava, Dwayne for Ava." My walkie stutters to life from its position around my waist. I had completely forgotten that it was there.

"Shit." I cry, "No."

But Javi's fingers had already left my thong, and he's now leaning his forehead against mine. "You need to answer it," he pants.

"I..." Don't want to? Can't believe how shitty this timing is? Can't believe how good I just felt?

"Ava, are you there?" I hear Dwayne's voice again, slightly more irritated. The heavenly feeling I was just experiencing had dulled the fact that today has been one of the more chaotic days on set. I take a deep breath, grabbing my walkie from my work belt that was now much higher on my waist than it had been when I entered the room.

"Go for Ava."

"Are you done with Gutierrez?"

Well Dwayne, I was close. Javi smirks at Dwayne's question, pulling away from me and leaning casually against the doorframe by the table. The table where I was still sprawled out on, flushed.

"Yes. What do you need?"

"You're needed on soundstage one, like I said before. We need as many hands as possible to get organized in here."

I push my hand toward the receiver to reply, but I gasp when I see Javi slide his fingers into his mouth and suck. The same fingers that had just been giving me so much pleasure. He hasn't taken his eyes off of me, and now I'm starting to think he relishes in this specific form of torture.

"Ava?" Dwayne is definitely irritated now.

"Copy. On my way." I secure the walkie back on my belt and scoot off the table, rearranging my dress so that there are hopefully no signs of anything nefarious happening in here.

"You're evil for that," I jab my hand in Javi's direction.

His eyes turn exceedingly innocent. "I mean I had to have one taste before you go."

My mouth falls open and I just shake my head. "I just...evil."

He just looks at me and shrugs, still leaning against the doorframe.

"See you soon, Ms. Cohen." He winks.

I let my wobbly legs guide me out of the trailer, back into the brilliant sun. It is very, very difficult to wipe this dumb smile off my face. A PA running around on a day like today with a ceaseless smile plastered was sure to raise some eyebrows. As I head toward the soundstage, I try to come up with a reason to drop it.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't have to wait long to find one.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

[fleuriry]

you never forget your first patient.

or in my case, my first patients—plural. scattered across like fragments of a memory i'm still trying to hold gently.

today is my last day of ICC! that sentence doesn't quite sit right on my tongue yet. how do you wrap something that unraveled you in all the right and wrong ways?

when i was answering our comprehensive exam this year, somewhere between the first circle i shaded and the last one i erased three times before settling, i felt a soft unfamiliar ache: nostalgia, the kind that hums softly when you realize that you're standing at the edge of something—not an ending, just the super slow turning of a page.

my usual ritual? answer everything in one go. mark the tough ones. double-check. only then do i start shading the scantron.

but this time, every question felt like a doorway pulling me back to bedside somewhere. to faces. names. voices. like i was flipping through a secret diary i didn't know i was writing these past three years.

Entry #1: the smiliest 6-month-old baby with a metabolic condition caught early through EINC. asymptomatic. soft cheeks. no teeth. eyes that didn’t understand the gravity of the diagnosis but smiled anyway. he’d grab our fingers with that unexpectedly strong baby grip. and somehow, that made the world feel softer.

Entry #2: the boy in the wheelchair. hemiplegic cerebral palsy, but louder joy than any textbook definition of his condition. he couldn’t speak in full sentences, but he spoke in laughter. in sounds that filled the opd like music.

Entry #3: the tito with psoriasis. talked like we were long-lost friends, cracked jokes as if humor could soothe the flare-ups. and i laughed—genuinely, not out of politeness but because he reminded me that life doesn’t pause after a diagnosis, it just rewrites itself, a little differently.

Entry #4: the teenage boy with hemophilia: he needed a knee surgery, but couldn’t get the transfusions. not because of money alone, but because the treatment simply didn’t "exist" here. while we were doing our history and pe, he was playing on his phone—the “only way he could have fun,” he said and i remember thinking, how do you carry so much pain and still sit so still?

Entry #5: the lola in her nineties: sharper, warmer, stronger than me on most days. she’d call us “anak” even if we was just standing near her. “mas malakas pa siya sa inyo,” our blockmate joked once, and funnily enough, i believed her. she reminded me that aging isn’t the opposite of youth. it’s proof of survival. of choosing to wake up again and again, no matter what.

and so many more.

faces i may never see again but whose names are tucked somewhere inside my chest. stories i kept quietly, not out of duty, but out of reverence. not all moments were big, of course. some were just silent nods, quick chats with the mommies in the pedia ward. but for me, they mattered and they changed me.

my last rotation this year was pedia and it drained the hell out of me. every round of monits made me feel like a malfunctioning checklist machine. tick. tick. tick. repeat. then came the exams. the grand OSCE. i was tired. uncertain. i kept asking myself: is this still what i want?

but now that it’s over, now that the noise has quieted a little, i hear it again: the small voice that always brings me back to my why. the reasons i started. the reasons i stayed. the love that kept finding me—even when i forgot to look for it.

i hope that love continues to find me: in busy wards and quiet call rooms, in morning endorsements and late-night monits, in the warmth of shared meals with my blockmates. may it find me in the middle of chaos, and make a home in me again.

i’m scared, yes. nothing will ever truly prepare me for clerkship. but for me, fear is not the absence of readiness: it’s the echo of hope. and i am hopeful!! for new names, new faces, new lessons. hopeful that my hands will grow steadier, my eyes sharper, and my heart wider.

and i know i’m not alone. i have people who will walk beside me, who will hold my hand when i hesitate, who will help me with my prox and fix me breakfast when i forget to eat, who will remind me that i am not my grades, not my failures, not the one mistake that still haunts me. people who will say: you’re doing okay, and mean it.

i think that's what makes this all bearable, so far. not the prestige, not the glamorized lifestyle. but the people. always the people.

so here’s to remembering. to forgetting and remembering again (hehe). to turning the page, gently. and realizing on the next one, that i still want to keep writing.

even if my hands shake, and most especially if they do. :)

[casspurrjoybell-23]

Friday Night - Chapter 11 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

It started in the morning.

Hunter Dannings and his assistant Joshua Jennings were walking through the office halls for his daily rounds, Joshua bumping into Hunter's right shoulder with every other step.

Walking towards the finance offices, Joshua had outlined every time block and meeting until 12 pm when Hunter asked...

"So what meeting is after 12?" and Joshua stopped, finger hovering over his phone as he said...

"I don't know."

Joshua, the king of punctuality, the master of memorization, had forgotten one of Hunter's meetings.

Luckily, when checking an older draft of Hunter's schedule for today, he found the missing meeting and corrected the mistake but Hunter never forgot that.

Especially when it wasn't the last time that day.

Joshua was forgetting several details, mixing up names and statistics, forgetting to ask for utensils in Hunter's delivery and so on and so forth.

Hunter didn't necessarily mind the slip ups.

Joshua made so few of them so Hunter saw it as the man 'cashing in' after being perfect for so long.

What concerned him was 'why'?

Joshua just 'did not' get distracted, so what brought on the sudden change?

Hunter left for lunch, pondering the question but assuming he wouldn't get the answer and coming back from lunch, the effect had doubled.

Returning from a peaceful lunch at the bar, Hunter had to watch Joshua panic over losing a big client's contact file.

He spent hours trying to recover the document before realizing that he'd just named it wrong.

Even if Hunter did want to let this fall under the rug, for the sake of his company, he had to say something.

Later in the afternoon, when the light from Hunter's window was enough to illuminate his office, Joshua walked in.

"I need to get these additional contracts for the movie signed by you," Joshua told him, walking closer to place a short stack of papers beside his computer.

"I already read all of them, you can just sign the bottom."

Hunter grabbed his pen and picked up the first sheet.

He trusted Joshua implicitly and was willing to sign whatever he needed but when he quickly scanned the paper, he paused, his frown deepening.

"Josh, why are you giving me this?"

"I told you, you need to sign..."

"Josh, I signed these papers two days ago," Hunter interrupted, seeing some of the color drain from his PA's face.

"I thought you already scanned them and sent them off."

"Oh, I didn't realize..."

The shorter man trailed off, glasses shifting down just slightly as he stared confused at the floor.

"Sorry, I'll get out of your hair."

Joshua rushed to snatch the papers back and leave the office but Hunter shot out of his desk, making the black man stop.

"Wait, are you okay?" he asked.

"You've been acting strange all day."

Now Joshua seemed caught off guard, hands wringing together in front of him.

"It's nothing. I just... well you see... I just..."

Josh's eyes moved back and forth frantically, his mind struggling to come up with the right words.

Finally, he sighed and plopped into the chair in front of Hunter's desk.

"I shouldn't be letting it affect me like this but I'm going to propose. To Kellie."

"Wow, man. Congratulations," Hunter exclaimed, rushing around his desk to pull Josuah into a fierce hug.

"Thank you. I've been planning it for a couple of weeks but now that it's only a couple days away... I'm getting in my head."

"Did you already talk to her about marriage?"

"A little," Josh shrugged.

"We've mentioned hypotheticals and stuff like that but we've never definitively said if we want to marry each other."

Hunter hummed, crossing his arms while raising a fist to his mouth.

"I can see why you're nervous."

"Thanks, that made me feel a lot better," Joshua drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he sunk back into his chair.

"It's the truth," Hunter shrugged.

Seeing how dejected Joshua looked, he sighed, leaning against the front of his desk so he could look Josh in the eye.

"Not having the answer is tough but Kellie loves you, that much is obvious. I'm sure you'll be telling me about the good news very soon."

"Thanks, Hunter."

After giving Joshua a few comforting pats on the shoulder, his mind wandered.

He knew plenty of people that had gotten married, the concept wasn't foreign to him.

What 'was' foreign was the certainty his married friends all seemed to have.

Of course he'd imagined his married life and the comfort he would find in a husband of his own but to be so confident that the person you're with can be that, your life partner . . . how strange.

Yet Joshua had found his and Hunter couldn't be happier.

"So, what are the proposal plans?" he asked eagerly, hands cupping his own cheeks in an oddly cute pose.

Joshua laughed at the off display Hunter made before getting into the explanation.

It was going to be an elaborate proposal but classic for the most part.

Dinner at a nice restaurant and returning home where she would find rose petals guiding her to the couch.

There she would see the slideshow of their best memories as a couple before Joshua got down on one knee and while Joshua shared his excitement about the plan, he also mentioned all of the prices associated and checks he had to sign to put it together.

Checks on top of the engagement ring price.

Turns out paying someone to create a custom song for your slideshow can become quite expensive.

So while Joshua spoke, Hunter came up with the perfect solution.

He would just pay for it.

Hunter was the boss after all and covering the costs of the proposal was a great wedding gift.

When he brought this up to Joshua, however, the man was vehemently against the idea.

It was something about pride and knowing he had set up the proposal himself, he argued.

Hunter didn't agree, since he had no part in the planning, just a part in the payment.

However, he relented knowing that arguing over money was pointless.

He let Joshua think that he won.

In actuality, Hunter mentally organized to give Joshua a bonus on top of his next paycheck for the exact amount of the proposal costs and the ring.

Hunter was the CEO after all.

He called the shots.

[yourreddancer]

Heather Cox Richardson

February 17, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Feb 18

Today is Presidents Day, a somewhat vague holiday placed in 1968 on the third Monday in February, near the date of George Washington’s birthday on February 22, 1732, but also traditionally including Abraham Lincoln, who was born on February 12, 1809. Some states celebrate Washington’s birthday, some celebrate Washington’s and Lincoln’s, some celebrate all presidents, some celebrate none.

Washington looms large in our understanding of what it means to lead a democratic country, in large part because in the early years of the republic no one knew how a democratically elected leader should act. Washington knew that anything he did would become the standard for anyone who came after him. “I walk on untrodden ground,” he wrote in 1790, the year after he assumed the office of the presidency. “There is scarcely any part of my conduct w[hi]ch may not hereafter be drawn into precedent.”

Famously, minister and writer Mason Locke Weems, more commonly known as Parson Weems, wrote down for the citizens of this new nation the qualities they should require in a leader. His The Life of Washington, published in 1800, the year after Washington’s death, was written not to reflect the facts of Washington’s life—biographies would not focus on facts for almost a century—but to show virtues the nation’s youth should imitate and to establish a set of attributes against which future voters could judge those vying to lead the nation.

Weems’s Washington was generous, reverent, studious, athletic, martial, hardworking, and beloved by his comrades. To be a good citizen and a good leader meant living a moral and industrious life. Notably, though, the story that generations of Americans remembered and repeated to their children, the story of a young George Washington and the cherry tree, was not in the 1800 incarnation of Weems’s biography. It didn’t show up until a new edition appeared in 1806.

The story is only about a page long. Weems—who clearly made up many of the scenes in the text—wrote that he heard the story “twenty years ago” from “an aged lady, who was a distant relative, and, when a girl, spent much of her time in the family.” Weems claimed it was “too valuable to be lost, and too true to be doubted.”

According to the account, when George was about six years old “he was made the wealthy master of a hatchet, of which, like most little boys, he was immoderately fond, and was constantly going about chopping every thing that came in his way. One day, in the garden…he unluckily tried the edge of his hatchet on the body of a beautiful young English cherry-tree…. The next morning the old gentleman finding out what had befallen his tree…, came into the House; and with much warmth asked for the mischievous author…. Nobody could tell him anything about it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. ‘George,’ said his father, ‘do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry tree yonder in the garden?’

“This was a tough question; and George staggered under it for a moment; but quickly recovered himself: and looking at his father, with the sweet face of youth brightened with the inexpressible charm of all-conquering truth, he bravely cried out, ‘I can’t tell a lie, Pa; you know I can’t tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.’

“‘Run to my arms, you dearest boy,’ cried his father in transports, ‘run to my arms; glad am I, George, that you killed my tree; for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an act of heroism in my son is more worth than a thousand trees, though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest gold.’”

The years between the first appearance of The Life of Washington in 1800 and the edition with the cherry tree story in 1806 had seen a dramatic change in the nation’s political fortunes. The Jeffersonian Republican Party had risen to stand against Washington’s Federalist Party. (The Jeffersonian Republicans, also known as the Democratic-Republicans, were something entirely different from the modern-day Republican Party, which formed in the 1850s.) Federalists distrusted Thomas Jefferson, the party’s leader, who was elected president in 1800 after a bitter and vicious campaign. Federalists thought Jefferson was sneaky and underhanded—a liar, even—and they worried desperately about what would become of the new nation under such a president.

Parson Weems was a Federalist who believed that public greatness depended on private virtues. The insertion of the cherry tree story in the 1806 version of his life of Washington highlighted that honesty was a key virtue for a democratic leader.

In the 1830s, William Holmes McGuffey reproduced the story of Washington and the cherry tree in his wildly popular McGuffey’s Reader series used across the country as textbooks. The story’s message of guilelessness and honesty as a central virtue for a president served Abraham Lincoln in the 1850s after more than a decade in which northern voters felt they had been repeatedly sold out by presidents who abandoned campaign promises and caved to the demands of southern elites. Lincoln brought his reputation as “Honest Abe” into his political career, and his supporters, who had grown up on McGuffey’s Readers, highlighted it.

For all that presidents hid things from the American public—especially information about their health—and spun things to their advantage, there was an expectation that the president wouldn’t lie brazenly to the people. It came as a shock when, in 1960, President Dwight D. Eisenhower publicly supported a complicated story that a U2 spy plane shot down over the Soviet Union was a weather research aircraft only to have the Soviets produce the pilot, Francis Gary Powers, and state they had captured the remains of the craft, along with a camera and footage of Soviet military installations. The embarrassment of the lie reportedly led Eisenhower to tell an aide: “I would like to resign.”

President Richard Nixon did resign after recordings proved he was lying about his role in the coverup of the 1972 break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Washington, D.C., Watergate complex.

When given the opportunity to paint any scenes he wished in the U.S. Capitol Rotunda as it was being rebuilt after the War of 1812, fine artist John Trumbull chose to portray the moment when Washington resigned his wartime commission after negotiators had signed the Treaty of Paris ending the Revolutionary War. Trumbull told President James Madison he had chosen that moment because “I have thought that one of the highest moral lessons ever given to the world, was that presented by the conduct of the commander-in-chief, in resigning his power and commission as he did, when the army, perhaps, would have been unanimously with him, and few of the people disposed to resist his retaining the power which he had used with such happy success.”

The portrait of our first president voluntarily giving up power rather than becoming a dictator will always be foundational to the true principles of the United States of America and is certainly reason enough to celebrate him. But in 2025, as we navigate an ocean of disinformation under a president who won office thanks to what is actually called the “Big Lie” that he won the 2020 presidential election, there is also reason to honor the idea that a democracy depends upon citizens’ ability to make informed decisions about their leaders and their policies. That ability, in turn, depends on leaders’ honesty—a lesson taught more than 200 years ago by a parson who wrote about a future president, a hatchet, and a cherry tree.

Happy Presidents Day.

—

[flanaganfilm]

Good morning/ evening! My name’s Sam and I’m currently a film student hoping to get into freelance writing. I’ve got a couple questions if you don’t mind (hoping you haven’t already answered them and I just missed them).

When you first starting making your own films, did you have already have thick skin for any critics/ bad reviews? Or is that something you grew over time?

Also, for your production company, do you hire interns and PAs or do you prefer filmmakers with more experience?

Thank you!

To your first question, I do not have a thick skin in that area AT ALL and never have. I don't know many people who do.

I'm often approached by fans who will talk about what a project of mine means to them, or I find a review or think piece online where the author really connected with my work. I want to let that feedback in, because it's validating. But letting it in means letting ALL of it in, even the negative. I don't really get to pick and choose. Once I decided to let myself react emotionally to other people's feedback, those gates are open I've got to accept whatever comes through.

I take my work very seriously, and tend to pour my heart and soul into it. We make these things because we love them. It can literally take years of daily work to do. When people love it, it feels great. When people don't, it hurts. There's really no way around that.

Film criticism has, like a lot of things, devolved over time. I was a massive fan of Robert Ebert, who was thoughtful and sophisticated in his critiques (most of the time), and tried to approach each movie he watched on the film's own terms - from the perspective of "how successful was this at achieving what it set out to do?" I see a lot of criticisms today that don't do this, and instead are lamenting what a movie is or isn't, saying things like "I wish this was more..." or "This isn't good because I wanted it to be something else."

"I wanted a ________ and what I got instead was ______ so it sucks."

The other issue is that loud, sensationalized vitriol gets more clicks. Negative reviews, especially brutal and callous ones, get more attention than positive ones. I've gotten to know and befriend some professional critics over the years, who have all told me that the positive reviews don't generate the audience reaction quite like the negative ones. People enjoy watching things get beat up. We reward the wrong kind of discourse, and that isn't unique to film criticism - it's everywhere. That's just a symptom of our culture.

One of my great frustrations is how we assert our opinion as objective truth. There's nothing more dangerous than tweeting "I liked ______ movie!" The comments flood in about how you're wrong, how it sucks, blah blah blah. People think their own taste is somehow factual. If someone says "I had a fantastic steak dinner last night and I loved it," we don't say "you're wrong, steak sucks". We understand the concept of taste when it comes to other things we consume, but when it comes to entertainment each one of us thinks we're the ultimate authority.

For myself, my producer and my wife have long discouraged me from reading reviews. I still can't help it. It's not healthy though. I can scroll past a dozen positive ones, and they evaporate in my mind, but I read one scathing thing and it sticks with me for days. There is one particular review of MIDNIGHT MASS that is one of the most baffling and frustrating things I've ever read, as the author appears to have misunderstood just about every aspect of the series, and drawn the angriest, most misguided, most erroneous conclusions. I read it with my jaw on the ground... "but they're objectively wrong. That isn't what happens, and that isn't what the show is even about." But what can I do? Who am I to say their experience of the show is invalid? They feel how they feel, and that's fine. That's okay. It has to be.

So your skin doesn't get thicker, it is a bizarre emotional experience to put something personal out there into the world and see the gamut of reactions. But at a certain point you have to remind yourself that it's impossible to please everyone, and that these projects don't belong to the filmmaker - they belong to the audience, and each and every one of those experiences is unique and valid. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned, and perhaps the critique can help you grow as a filmmaker.

I have similar feelings when I see someone trashing someone else's work I happen to love - for example, I remain baffled by people who didn't like EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE, but that doesn't mean anything. It didn't work for them, that's all. Nothing works for everyone.

I have found over the years that I respect and appreciate analyses and criticisms that take this more personal point of view, and talk about their own interaction with the work as opposed to just dismissing it outright. When someone says "this movie didn't work for me," or "I didn't connect with it," or "It just wasn't my cup of tea," I have a much easier time taking it seriously. It's changed how I talk about my own reactions to movies or shows that I didn't respond to. And I found that it's made it much easier for me to enjoy things even if they aren't quite for me. Instead of being reactive and saying "it sucks" or "I hate this," I've gotten better at realizing it's not a binary experience - I can look at what DOES work for me, and I can appreciate it, even while other elements might not.

It makes for a much more nuanced discussion, and helps me grow. Sometimes, though, it's just the wrong thing to watch on the wrong day, and that's fine too. Maybe that makes it a little easier. If I step out of something and just really don't enjoy it, it helps remind me that it's not personal. Clearly, other people DO enjoy these things, sometimes I'm very much in the minority. And when that happens, I can say "oh, it's not so bad if someone hates a movie I made, or a show, or whatever. Life's too short."

But I long ago decided I'd never say anything negative about someone else's work in public. I know too much about what it takes to make a movie, and I'm not a critic. I'm a filmmaker. This town is too small, and there is zero upside in dragging another filmmaker's efforts. On the rare occasions when I do see another filmmaker indulge in that behavior, it is always a terrible look. And it can have real-world consequences - there are a few filmmakers who I've seen publicly slag off other people's work, and I quietly decided never to hire them. Like I said, it's a small town... and most of us read what people say about our work.

We should get back to that work, remember how lucky we all are to do this for a living, and leave that kind of thing to the critics.

[amane-by-together]

school bag || teru minamoto

genre: fluff

pairing: teru minamoto x fem! reader

summary: in which teru and [name] went on a lunch date before classes start

author's note: based on the true story and my offering to the gods to bring back teru bc i miss him :') idc if u hate him ya all can unfollow me for liking him 😗💅

[Name] placed a hand on her cheek while twirling her pen as she listened to her teacher’s lecture. She crossed her legs, letting out a small sigh from her lips. All her teacher’s words start to sound slow and blurry because of how tired [Name] is—despite the morning sun, she still feels sleepy. [Name] was in verge of zoning out until she heard the school’s speaker’s announcement.

“Attention to all teachers, we will be having a meeting around 9:00 AM. All classes will be dismissed for today, students are now allowed to leave and come back after lunch, thank you.”

There was silence, then all of a sudden, majority of the class started to cheer at the early cancellation of the class. [Name] whispered a small ‘yes’ under her breath now that she can go home and do the things that she wanted to do. “[Name]-chan, are you going straight to home?” Yashiro asked as she already wore her school bag. “Or do you have other plans?”

“I can’t stay at school to clean Hanako’s bathroom since I’ll get shoo-ed off by teachers since the PA system deadass said that all students are allowed to leave.” [Name] explained, pretending to be sad that she won’t be able clean the bathroom for today, she’s sure that Hanako will understand unless he needed an explanation.

“Aren’t you supposed to borrow a book from the library?” Yashiro tilted her head in confusion. [Name] blinked for a couple of seconds, then putting a hand under her chin to think about it, and realizing that she needed to borrow a book from the library.

“Fuck—! It’s supposed to be my free day!” [Name] cussed.

“[Surname]-san, mind your language.”

“Sorry Sensei.” [Name] apologized before grabbing her bag from the side of her table. “I gotta go now Yashiro, you go ahead and go home—stay safe.” [Name] quickly told Yashiro as she quickly went to the library to borrow a book, which is about Rocket Science, something that she had been interested in after she took the key with a rocket keychain from the doors that lead to nowhere and everywhere.

[Name] ran to the library and went to the receptionist to ask for books related to Rocket Science. “Hmmm, I’m afraid that you needed to go to the old building department, most of the books are there. The library is still under renovation so until then, you have to go to the library by the other building.”

“Thank you…” [Name] bowed slightly. She opened the door and let out a frustrated sigh that she had to walk her way to the old building which is like a six minute walk since you have to cross the courtyard before reaching there. [Name] clutched her bag, trudging her way to the old building department. “Do I really have to go to the other building? Can’t they just comb through every bookshelf to get a damn book. Goddamn it.”

“[Surname]-san?”

[Name] flinched, thinking that it’s probably one of the student council patroling the hallways and that they caught her saying a cuss word, but it’s weird because every student should be home right now, unless? [Name] turned around to see Teru waving his hand with a kind smile on his face. “Minamoto-senpai? Eyow, what you doing here?”

“I was with my friends but then I spotted you from afar so I decided to excuse myself and stop by and say hi.” Teru explained while scratching his cheek sheepishly. [Name] nodded at his response, she doesn’t seem to mind it if her seniors approach her and it’s like a normal thing for her. “By the way, why are you heading to the old building department?” Teru bounced back the question to her.

[Name] explained to Teru that she needed to borrow a book from the library so she first went to the newly established library to the new building but they lacked source materials and they are currently under renovation and that she was recommended to go check by the old building. “But it’s tiring to go there to be honest. You should probably head home by now, I bet Kou-kun is worried sick right now.”

“Don’t worry, I told him that I will be going home soon.” Teru reassured [Name]. “Are you heading home after getting your book?” Teru bent down a little to take a better look at [Name] since she was shorter than him, which he thinks it’s cute, as they start to walk their way to the old building.

“I mean since we have to go back after lunch, I guess I could stay home for a little bit.” [Name] shrugged in reply. She and Teru already established the friendship level after that late night incident where they both encountered each other in front of the convenience store and talked about themselves while making candy by the park. “It’ll be boring if I stay in school for three hours waiting for my classmates to come back.”

Teru stopped walking which made [Name] halt as well. She turned to look at the blonde haired male next to her. “Is there something up, Minamoto-senpai?” [Name] asked, getting slightly concerned as to why he randomly stood still. Teru needed to tell his true intentions as to why he approached [Name] in the first place and this is only his one in a million chance to do so before it won’t happen again.

“I can come with you to get your book…” Teru reached over to scratch the back of his head. [Name]’s eyes widened a bit as a small blush appeared on her cheeks. Teru gulped, looking away from [Name] as he continued. “And if you don’t mind, wanna go out and eat lunch together? Just the two of us?” This sounded more like Teru is asking her out on a date—and out of all girls, he just asked [Name] and it shocked her.

Yashiro will be needing all the details of their date if [Name] agreed to come with Teru. Aoi will be happy for [Name] because first, the most popular guy in school asked her friend out on a date, and second of all she’s a sucker for romance like Yashiro. [Name] cleared her throat to cut herself from her train of thought, thinking about possible ways to avoid this scenario because she felt guilty if she were to accept his offer and there’s like a hundred of fangirls who wanted to be in her shoes.

“But like, I don’t think I have any money left if we were to go out to eat lunch since this is for school purposes.” [Name] winced. “Plus I owe you one for helping me from that creepy guy on the convenience store and even paid for my things.”

“I never said you will be paying for this one.”

[Name] was caught off guard. “Ha? No way—you’re serious? You’re going to treat me lunch…?” Teru stiffled a laugh at her reaction, nodding that he was serious about it and that he was not bluffing. There was wind that passed by which carried the strands of [Name]’s hair a bit as she smiled at Teru. “Alright then—but make sure it won’t be far.”

“We’re just going to a nearby fast food restaurant, don’t worry.”

“Okay, now let’s go to the library to claim my book, then we can head to the fast food restaurant to eat lunch and if we have time left, we should go to the library to stay for a while, I have a quiz later.” [Name] slumped her shoulders with a sluggish laugh, if only the whole day was cancelled but they have to come back after lunch to continue classes.

Teru laughed as well. “I’m sure you’ll do well later.”

“Thanks.” [Name] gave him a closed eye grin. Teru’s heart skipped a beat. For the record, he was quite nervous considering that this situation looked like a date rather than a hang out as he wished to engrave in his mind. He was the one with the lack of experience and [Name] went through a few dates with Souho back when they were still together.

“Is your bag heavy?” Teru asked while pointing at the bag that [Name] is carrying.

“Well—it’s heavy not gonna lie.” [Name] showed her school bag.

Teru held out his hand. “I’ll carry it for you.” [Name]’s heart is definitely doing flips of joy right now because she’s experiencing every fangirl with a heavy bag’s lifelong dream which is for someone to carry their bag. And this type of stuffs happen in romance animes and kdramas. She gave her bag to Teru for him to carry as they entered the old building department.

They went for the second floor since that’s where the entrance of the library is located. [Name] had a quick flashback about her discovering the 4PM Bookstacks in order to find out Hanako without having to ask him about it. “Minamoto-senpai, is it okay if I go ahead? You can wait for me here.”

“Sure, I’ll be waiting outside.” Teru told her. [Name] entered the library to borrow a book while Teru, on the other hand, was strolling around the area checking his phone every ten seconds. [Name] went outside with a big smile on her face, waving the book at Teru. “You’re quick, [Surname]-san.” He praised.

“Yeah finally—since I’m the only one in line anyways.” [Name] sighed in relief.

“Then, shall we go?” Teru gestured to the other direction which leads to the exit of the old building. [Name] nodded in agreement since she was getting hungry. The two went outside the gates of the Academy on their way to a nearby fast food restaurant. “So…have you ever been on a date?”

“Hmm, yeah I had.” [Name] replied. “But it was with my ex for the first three dates—then a movie date from a certain guy, how about you?” Teru sweatdropped, must be nice to be in a date, he was always busy with student council work and exorcism to the point that he almost had no time for himself and that’s why he’s missing out a lot.

“I never been to a date…” Teru embarrassingly admitted. “Unless you consider what we are doing is going on a date.” He mumbled—but [Name] heard him loud and clear.

“So, is this a date then?” [Name] leaned forward with a slightly teasing smile on her face.

Teru inched away with an obvious blush on his face. “Maybe?”

[Name] giggled. “Let this be your first one.” Teru may be calm right now but he’s feeling butterflies and his cheeks warming up so he covered that up with a soft smile on his face. When they arrived at the fast food restaurant, they placed their things on the table and sat down.

“I’ll order for us.” Teru gave [Name] a quick wave before he went to the counter to order their food. [Name] pulled out her phone to play some games to pass the time, until she made a big mistake by turning to her side. It was an old lady, but she was familiar because she lived in [Name]’s neighborhood. [Name] internally panicked so she quickly disguised herself so that the old lady won’t recognize her.

‘I didn’t expect her to be here! I’ll be fucked up if that old lady recognized me and she will tell my mom that she spotted me on a date and then she’ll question me as to why I didn’t tell her and I’ll be doomed for eternity, the thing with Souho is already a high blow for her what more if I’m eating lunch with my senior.’

“I’m back~!” Teru cheerfully sat down next to her after placing down their order which is weird, isn’t he supposed to be sitting in front of her, but it’s fine anyways at least he’s covering her from the old lady’s vision. “Are you okay [Surname]-san? You seem to be paranoid.”

“Oh, don’t worry—I’m just letting my guard up, who knows some student from Kamome Academy might spot us and create an issue about us and that ‘Minamoto-senpai’s crush is from the Astronomy Club’ is gonna happen again.” [Name] explained, half of them is true but she’s more worried about the old lady by the neighboring table. [Name] gestured Teru to come closer to whisper something to him. “There’s an old lady next to us and she’s quite familiar and that’s why I’m hiding.”

Teru glanced to his side, then turned to look at [Name]. “[Surname]-san, the table next to us is empty.” He simply said.

“Eyow—what the fuck?!” [Name] blinked once she saw that the old lady that was on the other table was now gone like a popped bubble. “I swear, she was there before!” [Name] tried to explain. Teru only chuckled at her panicked attitude which he found it adorable.

“Maybe you’re seeing things that I can’t see~” Teru cooed.

“Whatever, at least I don’t have to hide anymore.” [Name] took a scoop of her ice cream and ate it gratefully. Teru chuckled as he started to eat his food. [Name] and Teru had a couple of conversations during lunch until they finished up their food. “Waaah—I feel so full.” [Name] remarked while stretching her limbs.

“[Surname]-san, look at me.”

[Name]’s heart was about to leap out from her chest at the sudden command. Teru tilted his head on the side as he leaned in to take a closer look at her. [Name] quickly whipped her head away from Teru as she proceeded to wipe her lips. “Let’s go back now.” So [Name] and Teru took their belongings as they walked back to Kamome Academy and they’re just in time because students are just entering the school.

Teru was still carrying [Name]’s bag, this is starting to look like the two of them are going out but then again nobody cared as they continued heading to their classes. [Name] and Teru chuckled at their oblivion as they headed to the library to review for their upcoming lessons. “[Surname]-san, if you’re going to study, put away your phone.” Teru smiled as he tried to take [Name]’s phone.

“Ehhh, I need my phone.”

“Do you really need your phone in a daily basis.”

“Of course—!”

Teru covered his mouth to chuckle. “You’re really cute, [Surname]-san.” [Name] tried to tell him not to blurt out cheesy words because she is easily flustered but then Teru proceeded to tease her because of it.

“Minamoto-senpai…I swear…” [Name] covered her face with her palms.

“Which reminds me, I have to go back to the Student Council room, I’m sure the others are there by now.” Teru stood up from his chair but then [Name] grabbed his sleeve. He slowly turned to look at [Name], who was now smiling shyly at him. “[Surname]-san?”

“Can you stay here for a little bit? I mean—don’t go, my classmates aren’t even here yet.” Teru’s heart skipped a beat, [Name] looked so adorable begging him not to go, not what you think of course. This school crush of his is making his feelings go haywire because out of all girls in Kamome Academy, why does he have to be crushing on [Name]?

Teru couldn’t simply say no, so he obliged. “Why not come with me to the Student Council room, you can stay there as long as you like.”

“I mean, sure.” [Name] agreed. The two teens went downstairs to the first floor to exit the library, and Teru is still carrying [Name]’s bag. Along the way, they chatted for a while that is until when [Name] reached for the door, Akane was there to reach for it too. “Tomato Head?!”

“Aoi-kun?—“ Teru added with a hint of confusion as to why the Vice President of the Student Council is right in front of them. Akane stared at them, trying to connect the dots as to why the two of them are together.

Akane coughed, gesturing to at the bag that Teru’s carrying. “So it’s [Surname]-san, huh President?”

“It’s not what it looks like—!” [Name] tried to explain the situation. “He’s just carrying my bag because it’s heavy!”

“Then why are you two together?”

“Because we had lunch together.” Teru smiled forcefully. “Now Aoi-kun, meet me back in the Student Council room and we’ll have a nice discussion about it.” Teru threatened Akane, then he switched the mood by smiling as he gave the bag back to [Name]. “By the way [Surname]-san, thank you for today—good luck on your quiz later~”

“Thanks~!”

omake:

“Have you heard? That if you carried someone’s bag, you’ll end up with that person for the rest of your life…at least that’s what I heard.” Aoi told the girls the week after [Name] and Teru had lunch together. Many students have been carrying each other’s bags, mostly the girls wanted the boys to carry their heavy bags. “I wonder who started the rumor…”

[Name] flinched. “Bruh—Minamoto-senpai just carried my bag and now everyone’s doing it? What the actual crumbs—?”

[dietmountaindewbae]

x. dracula teeth

alex turner x reader

requested by @malina-33 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

word count: 4371

summary: A few months in a romantic relationship with (late AM) Alex has made you realize how secretive he is, but you never expected to find out how horrifying and profound was his secret

warnings: wax play, pa!n, degradat!ion, roughness, bl00d, sharp objects.

music recommendation: wax and wane cover by deftones

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The door squeaks open as you head downstairs to the poorly lit basement, you made a list of chores while Alex was away, he was gone touring,  you never acknowledge how overwhelming the silence of his absence made you feel, you missed his loud records bright and early in the morning with a cup of coffee and a cigarette trapped between his fingers, his morning kisses, his pillow talks, casual naps, and gifts from just being there by his side. You spend most of the day cleaning his dark and humid basement, it was very badly illuminated but the only thing that kept your mind out of this was that he returned today, you were more than excited, there were no words in any language to express how happy you were to see him.

Cardboard boxes were scattered everywhere, and big shelves were stacked with more boxes, books, clocks, and notebooks, you were doing good by cleaning out that basement before everything got covered with fungus and nothing could be saved, you were almost done with the shelves, soon enough you moved to the boxes.

Each had books, old cassettes of music, vinyl, clothes, and shoes, they were antique, very old, even a bit yellow now that you looked at them closer, but how come did he have all of these clothes? Maybe it was from someone in their family but you awfully doubted how a person could stay the same size every year, and not only that but with each box that you opened the clothes only seemed to get older.

Questions were flooding your mind, but that was until you ran into another box that had no name, no label, forgotten in a dark corner of the basement, something inside you tells you to open it, and another voice asked you plenty of times if you really wanted to know what was inside of the box, but you didn't want to stay like this, you wanted to know the reason it was sealed with three layers of grey tape, and disguised as a normal box in plain sight.

You grabbed a blade and slid it down the middle of the box, and you opened it, it was an old red leather box, and inside there were pictures, but not just any kind of pictures, it made your blood go cold, and your face got paler as you saw them up close, your hands shaking, could you believe a man that never gets old? were all of those fiction movies and books actually real? are you in danger? what should you do? of course, you don't know what to do when your boyfriend of two years could have this major secret, and you were so dumb to believe the lies he told you, why he couldn't take that death ramps to ring out of his finger, why was he so pale, why did he disappeared for a whole night, why the news was never on TV, no newspaper, nobody tells you what to do when you're with someone like Alex.

It was madness, maybe this was just a joke, maybe it wasn't real, maybe your mind was just being paranoid. You didn't know what to do, who could you ask about this without being called crazy, you had no other way out of this, but then you heard the front door slam shut loudly.

The first thing you grabbed was the blade in your pocket, your hand was shaking, your ears were ringing, and your eyes were wide open, you slowly approached the living room, and then someone whispered to you.

"Boo" You turned around in the blink of an eye, about to dig the blade into their leg, "Woah! calmed down babe is just me" The relief of hearing it's me was bittersweet, you looked at him differently, and you backed away instead of kissing him or hugging him, "Look's like a vampire has drained all of your blood," You were silent, "Are you alright?"

"Mhm" You wrapped one arm around him to give him a short hug, but he spun you around too happy to see you, "I-I missed you"

"M-Me too" He mocked, "What's that?" He asked about the box sitting on the counter.

"Nothing!" You said immediately, "I-I mean, it's just a little surprise I got for you, but you can't see it yet!" You tried to cover your lie but for how long could you keep that up, you should ask the expert, "How was your flight? I saw you guys on the TV you were amazing"

"It was great, I drank the best margaritas ever, and for me to say that you know they were delicious" You faked a laugh, "Anyways... what about you?"

"Me?" You began to get a little nervous, "Nothin' just cleaning the place up" He nodded his head dropping his bags and slowly approaching you, you walked back, your body against the countertop, he smiled pressing the palm of his hand on your cheek, kissing your lips softly, his mouth was eager for more, his kisses felt the same, tasted the same, but you weren't the same, something inside you had changed, a part of your didn't know what to do with all of these questions, no answers, strange behaviors, now you didn't know how to act, how did you get into this, did he had powers? was he reading your mind right now?

"Babe?" He backed away, he felt something with you wasn't right, "Is everything ok with you?" You didn't notice you never returned the kiss.

"Yeah, I just need to run some errands... I'll be back"

The whole afternoon you were from library to library, the things on the internet, and the images seemed to get more violent with every tap you opened, and every page you flipped, murder, immortality, blood, flesh, holy water, crosses, the sun, fire, wooden daggers, hypnosis, speed, and the lovers, tragic lovers, could you end up like one of them? After two years of strange behavior, why hasn't he done anything to you? what's stopping him? Your phone buzzed.

my man 🎀 | 20:30 Are you coming back soon?

A bitter taste in your mouth formed, your insides twisting, and the only thing that you wanted to know was the truth, only the truth. Still, you didn't know if maybe your mind was fucked up enough and you should get something to protect yourself, and even if you wanted to you could never hurt him, he has never done anything considered violent towards you, he would never do something like that.

You took a cab on your way home, how did this ever happen to you? maybe he spend years in relationships with other girls, telling them the same excuses as you, he never lied, he didn't tell the truth.

He greets you at the door, waving his arm, his face shining in the moonlight, you smiled and kissed his cheek, once inside the whole place is dark, lit by warm candles that lead to the dining table, it had flowers, wine, and a meal for two.

"What's all of this?" You asked.

"I know I haven't been home in a while, that you've stayed here longer than we expected, so I made us this..." Steak with pasta, and potatoes, some homemade bread as well, Jesus he made all of this himself, "To show you I love you and very much"

"Thank you, baby, this looks great" You smiled at him, and he pulled a chair out for you, and when you saw that smile, it was like everything had been erased from your mind, when you saw that smile every cold-hearted word you wanted to say had slipped away, but you wanted the truth, and that smile could never make you forget about that, "Does the pasta have garlic?"

"Yes? And plenty... a pasta isn't pasta without garlic babe" He chuckled while you faked another laugh, "The steak has some too" His sharp knife cut the meat, and you watched how his medium rare steak with its juices spilling onto the plate with blood, the joy in his face as he eats it, your appetite had shrunk, and you took a big sip of your wine serving more, and the delicious food on your plate was your enemy, you couldn't process everything.

"Last time I checked you didn't like it that much" You joked, "Right, Alex?"

"That's ridiculous" He stopped eating for a minute as he stared into your eyes, something was out of place, "Why are you asking?"

"Why aren't you telling me the truth?" You confront him, why was he still acting like he didn't understand you? He whipped his mouth slowly, his hands forming fists, "You're not gonna say anything?"

"I don't know what you're talking about" He answered.

"I want the truth!" You demand, he didn't know what to say, what to do, how to explain the unexplainable, never in his life had he been caught, and whenever he was about to confess the truth he withdrew, but there was no way of escaping this.

"For the millionth time, I don't know what are you talking about, stop!" He yelled, the veins on his neck popping up.

"I'm leaving... I just can't" It was getting out of hand, and you weren't getting answers, hell, did you even want them? He couldn't take that at all, if you left that was like hell to him, he moved faster than you, too fast, your eyes were shut for a moment and when you opened them there he was in front of you stopping you from getting out, "How-" He held you down, putting his hand on your neck.

"Don't go" His eyes wide open staring at your soul.

"What are those pictures in the box Alex?" Your voice quivered, "Tell me they're fake" He couldn't answer that to you, he couldn't, his brain couldn't form a smart way to get himself out of that situation, you turned pale, filled with too many questions that frustrated you so much, all those secrets he couldn't keep anymore, "Tell me the truth" His jaw tensed.

"You know the truth, you know the word" That was his answer, and you felt like you could pass out at that moment from the shock, but it can't be, it's impossible, or could it be?

"Get off of me" You ordered, "You can't... it can't be..." You took a step closer to him, running your warm hands thru his cold skin, and dark brown hair, he had no wrinkles, no marks, not a single flaw, "You're a vampire" It sickened you to say it because you hoped it was all made up.

"You're not leaving me, are you?" He asked you, now more than ever you didn't want to go anywhere, "I love you, if you leave I'll die" He so desperately says.

"Not even vampires can die from love" What you didn't understand is the feeling of not being scared of him, not being scared of what he could do to you because if he wanted to he could do so, what did you have? what was it that stopped him?

"I can if you go," His all-black outfit made his skin shine in the pale moonlight, "I would never hurt you, my love, I would never... all of this time I cared for you because you're all I need, you're all I yearned for, you're all I want, you're the only thing that keeps me here, and God when I see you... I wish I had more control but I lose it so easily" The curves of your body were made for his hands to grab, just like a puzzle, the spirit he missed, the joy, the spark that lights his fire, "You my love are all I need now, and forever" His fingers ran thru your hair pulling it back, aiming his lips to yours, now you were the one with no self-control when it came to the way he kissed you so slowly, so gently, passionate raw love, it was setting you on fire.

"Show me how much you can love me" He grabbed your thighs, sprinted to the bedroom, and lay you down fast, your clothes were slowly discarded from your body as he kissed down every inch of it, his rough fingertips like feathers against your flesh, his nails digging very gently on your skin.

"You don't know how far can I take you, babe" You watched him stand up just to grab one of the red candles on the table, approaching you just like he was ought to get you, ought to destroy you like he had been watching your every move, he hovered your body, "Close your eyes" His voice so hunting, your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest, you didn't know what he could do, he promised to take you far, but how far? how deep? He created new limits, and everything you once knew was changed, took a 360, and now all you knew was that even if this man hid his true self for years, he did it out of love for you.

He shushed you, his fingers running down from the middle of your chest, creating goosebumps along the way, to your sensitive spot, you unconsciously tensed up, "Relax," He whispered to you, his rough hands laddered your body in oil, your arms, neck, collarbone, chest, down to your stomach to your legs, he did this with such adoration and love for what he calls his, and you were more than willing to follow whatever he asked you to do.

When you least expected it, a trace of warm wax was spilled on your body, it didn't burn, it didn't hurt, it was sickeningly enjoyable, you gasped when those first few drops were spilled on your chest, the flame of the candle shined against your body, as he spilled a few more down your arm, "A-Alex..."

"You love it, don't you?" His fingers coated in the essential oil slowly descended to your sensitive spot, "Mmmm you do" There was no way you could deny it when your pussy was soaking wet from the hot wax against your skin, the shivers that ran up your skull when he whispered to you, "You love how warm it feels on you, right?" He demonstrates his tolerance, but not only that, he demonstrates how much he likes it by pouring some on his chest, it was a sight to see, his chest raising up and down fast as he drips more down his veiny arms, he makes fists with his hands as he breathes thru the pain, "You're as twisted as me, do you want more?" His breathy voice asked you, but he needs no answer from your mouth, your eyes were the ones that shined when he asked you, he poured more drops down your belly, the heat, pleasure, and pain mixing together to make you feel ecstasy.

"Oh fuck me-" You said, his fingers lazily grazing your clit dipping the tip of his fingers inside you, you trembled pushing your hips forward to get them to sink further in, he took his fingers away, looking at you frustrated, you did something wrong, you shouldn't have moved, and you would regret it, he stood up from the bed, you tried to stop him but he put your hand away, "Wait-" He left the room.

Your heart shrunk a little, you waited like a puppy waving her tail hoping he would come back soon, and when he did he came back with two short ropes, "Do you trust me?" He asked you, you locked eyes with his as you nod.

"Yes... of course I do" He grabbed your right hand, tying your wrist to the headboard as he kept that intense eye contact, figuring out what he could do to you next, there were so many ideas on his mind, twisted, evil, he just wanted to tear you apart.

He caressed your face with the tip of his finger, you were delicate to him, like a sculpture, a painting, a porcelain doll, he could sit and adore you for hours and with each minute that passed he would still be mesmerized by you, once your other hand was tied up he hovered you over, kissing your face as he sneaked his hand to grab the candle, he poured the hot wax between your tits, the flame grazing your skin in a hot breeze, you gasped, short on your breath, for the excitement of the danger, "You're a masochistic fuck, even if you don't say it... you can't hide it from me," His fingers went down to your cunt, which he so blatantly touched forcing his fingers inside your pussy that was contracting around nothing, you were desperate for more than just fingers.

"I need you inside me, please... I need it" He covered your mouth with his hand shushing you.

"Don't cry, you'll get it once I'm done with you" He comforted you, just the hope of hearing he'll eventually finish you up very nicely had you convinced to settle down for his fingers at the moment, but you were almost drooling by thinking about him inside you, just going all feral, he always measured himself to not hurt you but this time you didn't care, you just wanted everything, all of it. You felt everything at its highest peak, the pain, and the ecstasy, such a sweet combination, he takes the advantage of your eyes closed, finally relaxing a little bit, while giving in to his fingers, pouring wax on your lower belly, and on your hips.

You covered up your weeping, your body twisting as the hot wax ran down your sides, you knew the burn was gonna be over soon but his fingers worked wonders between your legs, it made you want, and need, but you felt pathetic to admit it, "I want more" You groaned, "I-I want it"

He was awed, you felt ready for more, it turned you on, it set you on fire and it was hard to change your mind, you felt addicted to the rush and once it was down you wanted another try, he poured wax on your tits and in your hips, you hissed and tried to relax as the pain fades, "More, babe?" You hummed as a yes, he drips more on your inner thighs, and you moaned instead of groaning, "You sick little fuck, you're making a mess on the blankets you know that? and oh... you taste so fuckin' good" He put his two fingers inside his mouth, tasting you so lustfully, taking in a breath, he had never tasted something so good, "Taste yourself" He slipped one finger inside your mouth, and you sucked it butting the tip of his finger before he replaced it with his mouth, he was eager, you felt him hard against your thigh, you couldn't handle it any longer, you wanted his dick way far up inside you, as he pulled away he trapped your lower lip between his teeth, he nibbled on it way too hard until you felt the taste of your own blood, his heart began to speed.

He sucked on it so gently, your heart beating out of your chest as he kissed you deeply, the taste of the red wine, and blood mixing together on his tongue so deliciously, but he stopped leaving you winded, "It's so easy to lose control for you," His eyes bloodshot red, his teeth fighting the urge to dig themselves on your neck, your flesh was so nice, and when you saw his sharp Dracula teeth you weren't scared, you weren't afraid, you felt wanted so badly he could even consume you, every last drop, you smiled at the sight, the blue moon rising, painting his cold skin like soft snow.

Just like a piece of meat he opens you up, positions himself between your legs, shoving his hard cock inside you, his rough hands tying your legs on his hips, pumping your pussy so roughly, going crazy, and it hurt but you didn't want to take it slow either, your knees high up as he lifts his hips up and down, burying his cock inside you hitting the spot that made you see stars, "Oh fuck... right there please!" You screamed holding on to the ropes, "Fuck...Alex!" You scream from the bottom of your throat, it was probably the loudest you've screamed.

"Oh fuckin' hell you just get tighter... are you gonna cum for me?" He pounded your pussy nice and loud, driving his hips forward and back, the bed frame hitting the wall as he kept fucking you, tears rolled down your eyes, he was a feral beast, while you were tied, forced to submit but you loved every minute of it, his cock strokes your walls just right, while they tighten around him, only getting wetter making it easy for him to fuck.

"Yeah... cum with me... cum inside my pussy... please" You gasped, "Please I want it... I want it so bad" You whined as your stomach contracted, "Ah! shit" Sweat, oil, tears, and wax covered your whole body up, Alex groaned taking a much deeper pace, burying himself inside you, your legs wide open as he thrusts his hips, only three more pounds, and he came inside your pussy just like you wanted, his hot release coating your walls, you hummed content.

He giggled, "I could love blood but you love cum," You nodded your head, it was like your addiction, every since he did it that one time, you loved it so much you desperately begged for him to finish inside you, "Cum junkie"

"Kiss me" He took a deep breath in, and you came alive after that raging orgasm, he was so pleased with the way you felt the whole night, but you still had something that was bothering you, "Al" You whispered, and he broke the kiss.

"Yes?" He pecked your mouth.

"I want to be with you," You said to him, he smiled at you so in love.

"You have me for as longs as you want" But he wasn't understanding you, maybe it was too much to ask, and it was serious business.

"Always, forever... until my last breath," You said, his eyes changed, you weren't really asking him that, right?

"Babe, this is not something I asked for" He pulled out of you gently, you felt empty but pleased at the same time, he was worried you were taking this choice by impulse without thinking it straight, it would be selfish if he just turned you because he wanted you, quite the contrary, he would stay with you until you weren't young and beautiful, he would stay as long as he could, "You gotta understand that, it's serious shit"

"I know! But Alex... I don't know if I'll ever be the same, I want to be with you until the end of times until the stars fall from the sky, and the sea dries, until then I'll stay with you... turn me please, I love you now, and forever"

"I adore you, you're my girl, my love, heart, mind, soul, you're everything" God that man was just like poetry, "But I can't... you're not thinking straight, love, this is permanent... this is forever"

"Just like my love for you, I loved you the first time, and I loved you the last time, and I'll love you forever... you'll do this because you love me... not out of selfishness or some sort of whim, this will set our love on stone," He sighed, there was no way he could change your mind, no way in talking you out of it, and he was scared, "I'll be ok... I swear I'll love you until the end of times, and pain only lasts for little" He was speechless, it was his take at the end of the day, you made the statement but it was his choice whether or not to make it real, there was a lot of reasons as why he thought being a vampire meant being miserable for a whole lifetime, watching the people you love the most die, and not being able to protect everyone you love from the world, but he was not capable of just turning people because he could, but you were more than sure you wanted this, and for many many years, he never felt this amount of love for someone, he fought thru the need of digging his sharp fangs into your skin because, above everything, he loved you, and if this was the way he needed to show you how much he does, then he'll do it.

His mouth slowly inched closer to you, he tried to be as gentle as possible, leaving a kiss on your neck before whispering in your ear, "I love you forever" He dug his sharp fangs into your tender flesh, and you screamed as he sucked out the blood from your neck, your heart beating so fast at the beginning until sit fell down to a slow rhythm, your vision got blurry, your heart pounding on your ears, the venom burned on your blood, but when he was over, he bit his own arm, the bite mark shaping perfectly with your mouth, "Drink it, now" He ordered, you sucked on his own cold blood, and you kept drinking until you blacked out from the unbearable pain, feeling your heart sink slowly on your ears, he comforted you humming into your ear as a song, telling you everything was going to be fine, holding you for the rest of the night.

From the black, you saw a white crack, your eyes slowly opening, blinking away some tears, you saw everything differently, you felt different but when you looked at him watching you in awe with a smile nothing had changed about him and you, and that was the last normal thing you knew it would never change, your love was more alive than ever.

"Until the end of times," Both said, wrapping yourselves in a deep kiss.

A/N

Sorry, the chapter was taken down by the community guidelines, i had to change the image because it appears to be very inappropriate, but i hope you enjoyed this chapter i worked extra hard on it, stay tuned for more, it’s easier for me to post during the weekend, forehead kisses to you.

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