#Jessie Bannister

[allthewriteplaces]

Magnolia In May ~ Chapter Two

So I was thinking we could post one chapter every Thursday. Would that be alright? I'm trying to create a consistent schedule, and if you know me, or are anything like me, schedules can sometimes be hard to follow. That being said, I will try my absolute best to stick to it. This is also my first time writing for the Peaky Blinders fandom, so if I get anything wrong regarding certain things, please let me know, also if you want to be added to the taglist, I will be happy to add you. :)

Chapter Summary: Jessie is upstairs keeping her cousins out of trouble while her aunt and uncle speak with the mysterious visitor downstairs, but when adventure comes calling, she must choose between the life she's always known, or taking a chance.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3214

Chapter Two

Twenty or so minutes had passed and still no sign of the guest or who they might be. The children all sat quietly and obediently on the floor, reading or playing with toy horses and dolls. Violet, however, was starting to get a little bit fussy by now and was expressing her frustration by tossing her book onto the ground and letting out unhappy noises.

“Shh, Daddy says we must play quietly,” said Alice in a coaxing manner, attempting to hand her back the book, only for the baby to throw it halfway across the room. Considering the fact she was only three months old, she had an impressive throw. She could be a brilliant cricket player when she grew up.

“GAAAAAH!!!!” she screamed.

“Mama doesn’t like it when you scream like that,” said Marie.

Her bottom lip trembled and she looked like she was about to cry. I bounced her on my knee in an attempt to stop her from crying.

“Look what you did, you made her cry,” William frowned.

This made Marie wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I didn’t mean to make her cry.”

“Papa said to play nicely,” Alice tutted, “This is the opposite of nicely.”

“You sound like Mama,” said William, rolling his eyes.

“Good, at least one of us does.”

“It would be easier if it weren’t so boring!” Marie groaned.

“Why don’t we play a game together?” I suggested. That seemed to lighten up the mood a little bit. I got down from the rocking chair and sat on the floor, crossing my legs and holding Violet on my lap.

“Like what?” asked Alice.

“Soldiers!” Henry suggested.

“Dolls!!” Marie said at the same time.

“No way, dolls are for girls,” said William.

Marie was outraged by his comment.

“No they’re not, right, Jessie?”

“Let’s combine both ideas,” I said, not wanting to get into the whole debate regarding toys and societal gender roles today.

Usually, I was always good at coming up with solutions to problems on the spot and this time was no exception. After doing a bit of brainstorming, bouncing ideas off of each other as well as coming up with a beginning, middle and ending, as if we were inventing a story rather than a nursery game, we were ready to get started.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Henry put a hand up.

“Hear what?” asked Marie.

William stood from the floor. “It sounds like wheels scratching.”

All at once, the rest of the kids followed suit and clamoured by the window.

Henry’s eyes widened. “That’s a really fancy carriage!”

“It’s a car,” Alice corrected. “There’s a man coming out of it.”

Marie jumped up and tried to get a good look. “Is he handsome?”

“He’s got a funny haircut,” remarked Henry.

Even as the noise of the kids spiralled through the room, I could hear the front door opening, and a few cheerful voices blending together downstairs, but then as the door shut again, it all went quiet, which only piqued my curiosity further. Who was this person? Were they dangerous? Royalty?

“I wanna go downstairs and see who it is!” William went to the door.

“But Papa said we have to stay up here, remember?” I reminded him, even though I wanted to stand up from the chair, press my ear against the white door or sneak outside to the bannister and listen, but instead, I stayed where I was, doing as I was told, staying in the nursery with the children.

“Yeah, Papa said to stay here,” repeated Marie.

“Besides, they’re probably talking about boring stuff,” said Alice.

“Like money,” William said.

“Money is good,” said Henry, “You can buy fancy cars.”

“And horses.” Marie jumped up and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Can we play our game now?” asked Alice.

“Yes,” I said, “Let’s get started.”

We all sat down on the floor and played for about an hour. Violet had a role in the story, too. It was getting quite interesting.

“Steady, men! The enemy is approaching!” Henry declared.

“Guns at the ready!” William announced, lining up the soldiers.

“Where are they?” I spoke in a deep, manly voice.

“Sir! I don’t hear anything!” Alice whispered.

Violet pointed ahead to the enemy troops on top of a stack of books.

“BAAAAAH!” she hollered.

“Look out!” cried Henry as William mimicked the sound of a gunshot.

“Man down!” Alice shouted.

“Medic! We need a medic! Now!” I called.

“Coming through! Make way!” Marie commanded, moving her doll to where the pretend soldier laid and put him onto the stretcher.

“He has a broken arm!” I said.

“Be brave, soldier. We’ll make you all better.”

Hearing the door opened, we all turned to see Eliza standing there.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“Mama! Look! We’re playing soldiers,” said Henry.

“AAAAAA!” Violet squealed, holding onto one of Henry’s toy horses.

“Jessie, can I steal you away for a moment, love?”

Fixing me with a look, Eliza waved me over to her. The kids’ eyes all shifted to me and I stood up, following her out of the hallway and to her bedroom. As soon as we were inside, she closed the door softly behind her and sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to her in a gesture for me to do the same.

I did what she asked and then folded my hands in my lap. “Am I in trouble?”

She sucked in a breath and shook her head. “No, no, it’s not that.”

Knots formed in my stomach, tightening as her eyes quickly shifted to the brown leather suitcase in the corner of the room against the wall and then back to me. Last time I was in this room, she told me that Albert and David had to go away to France to fight, and that they might not come back.

Did he have to go back again? The thought terrified me. My heart was pounding and my mind was panicked.

“There is a gentleman downstairs,” she said, placing her hands on top of mine and looking down at the carpet, “who wishes to meet you. I said I would need to bring you in here first so that I could prepare you. Make sure your hair is set right. Go and change into those clothes.”

Pointing to the closet, she stood up again. I slid off the bed and walked over, opening the two wooden doors and pulling out the only clothes inside: a long black dress and a white blouse with a frilly collar. “Shall I change here?”

“Yes. Meet me in the hall once you’re finished. I’ll inform the children.”

Nodding, I watched as she left the room and shut the door.

Questions formed in the back of my mind as I came out again and she ushered me down the hall, not saying a word. Who was this man she was speaking of? Was he nice? Was he dangerous? Was he royalty? Did they know him?

Everything downstairs was quiet. I could hear the grandfather clock ticking, which was not something I thought I could hear. Then again, it’d never been this quiet in the house before. Something was definitely not right. I searched Eliza’s face, she was calm.

Finally, as I rounded the corner and peeked into the living room, I stopped in my tracks. Sitting on one of the armchairs and wearing a heavy, black overcoat, was a man who I was positive I had never seen before. Eliza stepped behind me so that I was once again in front of her, placed her hands on both of my shoulders and then, still in the calm tone of voice, said. “That’s Mister Thomas Shelby.”

Shelby. The name was quite familiar to me. My aunt and uncle spoke quite frequently and highly of the family, including this member in particular. I, on the other hand, had not known Mister Shelby like they did, so I couldn’t form an exact opinion on him. From what I knew, he was born into an English Romani family and spent most of his life in the Small Heath neighbourhood of Birmingham. I had never been there before, but Albert had been there a few times.

Up close, I couldn’t deny the obvious fact that he was quite handsome. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. His dark hair was slicked back and it looked like it was shaved at the back and on both sides. The most fascinating part about him though, were his striking blue eyes that crinkled up as he smiled while he and my uncle were engrossed in conversation, and downed the last of the drink clutched in his hand.

“Shall we go in and meet him?” she asked.

Wordlessly, I allowed her to escort me into the living room, though my legs felt like they were made of jelly. The smell of cigarettes hung in the air. Normally, no one was allowed to smoke indoors, it would damage the children’s lungs, but looking around, I could see no ashtrays on the coffee table, so maybe the scent had carried itself into the house.

“Another drink, Thomas?” asked Albert.

“Need to have a clear mind today, ya know?” he said with a slight smile as he set his drink down on the table. His voice was deep and rich and it sent shivers down my spine. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a watch.

“Suit yourself.” Albert chuckled and poured some of the tub into the glass for himself. At the same time, Thomas’ eyes turned to me. I could feel myself melting under his gaze, like the sun burning its light into my soul. I could do nothing but stare at him in awe, too stunned to even speak. “Ah, there she is! The girl we’ve been telling you about. Isn’t she a pretty sight?”

“Quite a vision, I must say.” It was as though every word he spoke was some sort of forbidden incantation, enchanting me and enthralling me.

“Come and sit down, sweetheart,” Eliza brought me to the sofa and the two of us sat together. Her hand rested on my knee, which was bouncing uncontrollably, something that always happened when my nerves got the best of me. Today was no exception. No one had given me any clues as to why Mister Shelby was here in our living room. Clearly this wasn’t a social visit, there was still tension in the air, though perhaps I was the only one who could sense it.

Not only that, their continuous glancing, as though they were engaging in some sort of secret code, did nothing to ease the growing anxiety or to loosen the knots in my stomach.

He sat back in the armchair, his imposing presence and commanding figure dominating the space around us. I felt small, like a puny little mouse. His eyes burned into mine and I could feel my heart racing, but I could not look away. I was drawn in by his masculinity and his aura of confidence and power.

“See? I told you he would make an excellent husband,” she said, looking at me. If she had told me that the earth was flat after all, I wouldn’t have been more surprised than I was when I heard her words. I barely knew this man, despite hearing my uncle talking about him. I watched the exchange with growing concern, the sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach slowly intensifying.

Husband? Was this what the two of them were so tense about? I thought. Am I being tricked into an arranged marriage, with a man I only know by name and by reputation?

Mentally and subtly, I scanned the room for any possible means of escape, the window, the back door, and I tried to plan how I would get past the three of them. Her hand found my back and she rubbed it gently. “Darling, do lighten up! It was only a joke.”

“Look at her, she’s as pale as a ghost!” Albert remarked. I saw a humorous glimmer in his eyes. He set his glass down on the table next to the one that Thomas was drinking from and looked toward the front door. “You think we would marry you off to someone you don’t know?”

“Wow, I didn’t think being engaged to me would be that frightening.”

Even Thomas seemed to find humour in this situation.

Frankly, I didn’t think any of this was funny. Not in the least. I was genuinely scared and fearing for my life and the fact that they were all making a joke out of it was enough to make me want to dig myself a deep hole and bury myself in it. I exhaled deeply, hoping to stay calm, and not get angry.

The sound of creaking wood made all of our heads turn to the staircase. No one said anything for a few minutes, though I could hear a few small voices whisper-shouting for everyone else to be quiet. Shaking her head, Aunt Eliza laughed nervously. “Children, am I right? Speaking of, we were just discussing your qualifications and your experience, Jessie, and the three of us agree you would be a suitable choice.”

“Choice for what?” I asked, confused.

“As a governess,” she clarified. “Albert, where are the papers?”

“In the top middle drawer,” he answered.

“Perhaps you can help me find them.” She fixed him with the same look she fixed me and he stood up, set down his glass and then followed Eliza upstairs, leaving Thomas and I alone in the living room. “I thought I told you all to stay in the nursery!”

“We were bored of staying in the nursery,” William complained.

“We were waiting for Jessie to come back so we could finish playing, but she was taking too long!” Henry added.

My mind was spinning as I tried to take it all in. A governess? For the children of this powerful man, who could easily crush me under his heel without even thinking about it? I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or terrified.

On the one hand, it was a huge honour and I was grateful for the opportunity. On the other hand, there was something about him that was deeply unsettling. He seemed capable of anything, of good or evil or anything in between. I was at once curious and scared, wary and drawn-in.

He towered over me as he stood, his dark coat looking more like a cape now and I swallowed thickly. He reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out his watch. At the same time, I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was half-past noon, though the sun had disappeared behind the clouds again, making it seem later in the day than it actually was.

Marie came running into the room and boldly approached with a beaming smile. “Alice was right, you’re really handsome.”

Thomas laughed and knelt down to her level, his eyes glowing with compassion and warmth as he looked into hers.

“Why, thank you, little lady,” he replied. There was a soft, gentle quality about him now, completely different from the dark and brooding aura that he had exuded just moments prior. I could see that he was a man who truly cared about children and had a soft spot for the innocent. It only added to his already staggering appeal. “And who might you be?”

“Marie?” she answered. She was never shy when it came to strangers. This was something that often concerned Eliza, Albert and I, who knew that there were plenty of people in this messed up world who would take advantage of such innocence. But from what I gathered, Thomas seemed harmless and didn’t have any clear intentions of doing her any harm.

“Jessie! Come upstairs and pack your things, love!” Albert called.

Watching the two of them with a fond smile, I moved over toward the bannister and went up the stairs as the other children came down to meet this interesting stranger. I could hear them all laughing as I started packing my bags, as best I could, my hands shaking slightly as the nervous energy in my body built up.

There was an excitement in addition to the fear, like when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, staring out into the abyss. Deep down, I knew that this was a risky and potentially foolish decision, but there was an allure about it that was impossible to resist. It was like the call of the wild, the tug of the unknown. I had to do it, I had to know what it was like in the depths of this unfamiliar world.

I took a good look around my bedroom, striving to memorise the details of it and commit it to memory: the beige-coloured walls, the cream-coloured sheets, the window-seat where I would spend rainy days losing myself in books. It wasn’t much, but it was comfortable, and it was home.

One last glance and I went down the stairs, still gripping the handle of my suitcase as though someone might snatch it from me. Mister Shelby was waiting for me. My aunt and uncle and cousins all stood in the hallway.

“All set?” he asked as I approached. Even though I was nervous, the warmth of the sun and compassion in his eyes made me feel a little bit more at ease. He extended his hand and I took it, my skin tingling with a rush of electricity as our hands met and I was swept away by the powerful presence that emanated from him.

We stepped outside where a 1921 Ford sat waiting for us, recently washed and quite comfortable by the looks of it. Without hesitation, I climbed inside and settled into the soft, leather seats and I was amazed and impressed by the luxuries surrounding me. I had never been in such a beautiful car, or one that was so comfortable. It was clear that Mister Shelby spared no expense when it came to the finer things in life. I was instantly overcome by a sense of elegance and sophistication that I had never experienced before but couldn’t help but feel at home in, like I belonged here, as if I was finally where I was meant to be.

My eyes darted toward the window as the car drove away and the kids started chasing after us. A smile tugged at my face, knowing they probably wouldn’t get far.

As the kids raced behind the car, Thomas laughed and put the car in drive, speeding off in the opposite direction. But he didn’t completely ignore the little ones; instead, as he sped away, he stuck his hand out the window and waved back, his deep, rich laugh filling the air. It was infectious and I felt myself beginning to giggle, getting caught up in his laughter and his joy. He was like a child himself, a playful and mischievous man with such a zest for life that it was impossible not to fall under his charm.

[judgementdaysunshine]

Halloween movie masterlist 🧡🍂

Scream

Sidney Prescott

Stu Macher

Tatum Riley

Randy Meeks

Gale Weathers

Dewey Riley

Kirby Reed

Mark Kincaid

Sam Carpenter

Wes Hicks

Tara Carpenter

Hocus Pocus

Max Dennison

Allison

Dani Dennison

Thackery Binx

Cassie

Mike

Becca

Gilbert

Izzy

It

Eddie Kasprak

Richie Tozier

Bill Denbrough

Stanly Uris

Ben Hanscom

Mike Hanlon

Beverley Marsh

28 Days/Weeks Later

Selena

Jim

Sergeant Doyle

Hannah

Flynn

Scarlet

Tammy

Bodies Bodies Bodies

David

Alice

Greg

Bee

Emma

Max

Jordan

Sophie

Ghostbusters

Dana Barrett

Egon Spengler

Phoebe

Peter Venkman

Lucky Domingo

Ray Stantz

Callie

Winston Zeddemore

Janine Melnitz

Trevor

Nightmare on elm street

Glen Lantz

Nancy Thompson

Max

Kristen Parker

Spencer

Lori Campbell

Will Rollins

Kia Waterson

Gibb Smith

Wrong Turn

Jessie Burlingame

Scott

Carly

Jake Washington

Amber

Brandon

Nina Papas

Walter

Alex

Misc

Dan Torrance

Carrie White

Billy Peltzer

Grace Le Domas

Eric Draven

Clarice Starling

Kane

Lucy Lynskey

Ray Bronson

Eliza Esposito

Frank Bannister

Lydia Deetz

Rick O'connell

Emily corpse bride

Duncan Idaho

Regan Abbott

Duke Leto Atreides

Julie James

Seth Gecko

[speok]

Qué suerte... llegaron los parientes

Qué suerte… llegaron los parientes

Mark y Jessie Bannister son un feliz matrimonio de Los Ángeles. Ambos tienen unos buenos puestos de trabajo y acaban de adquirir una confortable casa, situada en un lujoso barrio. Su apacible existencia, en cambio, se verá alterada cuando Mark abre el correo y ve con estupor que su primo Fred y su esposa Bernice tienen pensado ir a pasar unas vacaciones con ellos. Fred solía ser un tipo bastante…

[mgmpluto]

John Larroquette and Kirstie Alley in 1990′s Madhouse

[saint-cecilias]

Fave Music Releases of 2021 pt3

30 by Adele

Poster Girl by Zara Larsson

What's Your Pleasure? (The Platinum Pleasure Edition) by Jessie Ware

Blue Bannisters by Lana Del Rey

Alpha by CL

Not In Chronological Order by Julia Michaels

Too Young To Be Sad by Tate McRae

Pressure Machine by The Killers

Sour by Olivia Rodrigo

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Bring your Daughter to Court Day and Dad Friends

Summary: Rafael tries to multitask, miscommunicating the date he direly needs a sitter to Lucia, which means Catalina has to accompany him to court last minute. He manages to maintain his serious demeanor as well as he can, rewarding the well behaved little one with ice cream and a trip to the park. Suddenly, Rafael realizes he doesn’t have dad friends, and the opportunity arises to gain one. 

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

First Part - Second Part -Third Part - Fourth Part - Fifth Part - Sixth Part

A/N: This installation also partially based off of @teamsladsandgents​ ask a couple weeks ago that Down A Sitter was based on.

How had his mother forgotten she was supposed to babysit? Apparently, it was because Rafael Barba sent March 18 instead of 8, probably while he was making Catalina’s lunch and thinking that was the time for an email. Now, his mother was in Florida with Enrique, and he was without a sitter because Rebecca, Al, and Rodney were on the trip together. He could probably take her to Olivia’s, have Lucy watch her, but there wasn’t time to do that and make it to the courthouse. Lucia lived too far away. That left him with one option, and it was one he wasn’t sure he liked.

It was another defense case, a pillar of the community who killed his daughter’s abuser. It was all heat of the moment; the bastard had shown up on his step looking for Brendon’s daughter, the one he’d raped and left nearly dead. The other women? The ones he hadn’t dated? They hadn’t been lucky enough for the nearly. In minutes, he’d shot him, calling the police on himself. Olivia had convinced him to take it. And now it looked like he’d have company.

“Mija, how good can you be if papi brings you to work?” Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him.

“I can be so good, papi! I’ll help.”

“I’d just need you to be very, very quiet. That’ll be the best.”

“But I want to help.”

“You have to protect papi’s briefcase,” he fibbed, thankful selective defense work meant he just needed the file within it.

“I can,” she nodded seriously. He fastened her into her car seat, kissing her forehead and getting to the courthouse. He was grateful he could transition the necessities to a less full suitcase, leaving behind spare pens and pads of paper and only taking the file, a couple of pens, snacks, a bottle, the ipad, and her coloring book and box of crayons. Consolidating made him feel less messy. Most people at the courthouse didn’t know the dad side of him, and even as he relaxed, he hadn’t quite shaken the reputation he earned as a prosecutor. Now, he was clad in one of his dark three piece suits with a bright tie and suspenders, just like everyone was used to, the same briefcase in his hand. What they weren’t used to was the little girl with his eyes settled on his hip, clad in bright pink leggings and a white sweater with her arms wrapped tight around her father’s shoulders.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, brow raised as he shifted Catalina to walk through the metal detector. Her blanket was clutched in her hand from the car still, and she held it from the floor, carefully walking through.

“Cute kid,” the guard asked. This was one who’d been here forever, and he seemed surprised. 

“Thank you.” He picked Catalina up again, briefcase by his side. He’d developed more muscle definition in his arms than he’d ever had since Rebecca went back to work. Catalina refused to walk, and he enjoyed fatherhood too much to make her. 

“If you’re good until we leave, we’ll get the biggest sundae you’ve ever had, mija,” he reminded her during an empty stretch of hallway. Catalina nodded seriously up at him, and he smiled more fondly than he intended, nodding to his client. He’d sent a text of warning, but the older man just gave him a grin.

“Taylor was a daddy’s girl too. Thank you, Mr. Barba. I know you could have tried to continue this.”

“I don’t want to draw this out for you anymore, I assure you. If it means unorthodox company, so be it. We may be waiting for a while.” 

He settled the coloring book on his briefcase, and Catalina sat on the bench beside it, using it like a makeshift desk. He entrusted Brandon to watch her while he stepped to the clerk.

“How long is the wait running for The People vs Aerie?” he asked, and he remembered why he didn’t like this one.

“Who’s the cutie?” she asked, popping her gum as she slowly looked at the docket.

“I asked a question,” he said impatiently. He didn’t want this day to be about his child. He wasn’t even sure he liked sharing her with work. The divide, save the friendships he’d made, was too deep. Fin, Amanda, Liv, and Carisi were one thing. Everyone else? He was fine without them. 

“Geeze, I’m just wondering if she’s your niece or somethin’. It’s hot seeing a man with a kid.”

“She’s my daughter. Her mother is out of town and there was miscommunication with the sitter.”

“I didn’t know you were married, counsellor.”

“Please just give me an estimate.”

“Couple hours. I’ll bump you as far up as I can.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to see Catalina chatting happily to Brandon, and he thought it might be a blessing she was here. Brandon hadn’t been handling things well. Sure, he was handling things better than Rafael had; he let his wife and daughter be there for him. But he was also treating himself as less worthy now, grappling with the reality that he’d ended a life even if he didn’t regret doing it. He’d confided in Rafael as they prepped that he worried he was never going to be good again. That’s when Rafael did something that confirmed the change in him: he was vulnerable with him. They talked about something not many people had in common. Ending a life changes you, and though they did it for different reasons, both felt they’d done what they needed. 

“She’s smart as hell,” Brandon chuckled, watching Catalina color. “And looks exactly like you.”

“I’m very fortunate. Her, not so much,” he joked, hand resting on her back as he sat back down so she was between the pair of them. 

“Cute co-counsel,” Carisi said, stopping by. 

“Mr. Sonny!” Catalina grinned, and Rafael almost grinned. Carisi, while Rafael would always give him hell, attended their church, was overall a good guy and attorney, and had become one of Catalina’s chosen few during playdates with Jessie and Billie Rollins. He’d even been babysitter one Saturday night to give Rebecca and Rafael a night off, so he was developing soft spot for the young ADA. 

“Cat!” he grinned, leaning down and hugging her. Catalina didn’t let go, and Sonny put his briefcase down to hold her for a minute. “What are you doing here?”

“Protecting papi’s briefcase!” Catalina spoke well for her age, but he was going to miss the staccato of her toddler chatter. Carisi and the abuelitas and the squad could all understand her easily. They all had enough experience with kids. There had always been a delay between her words and his replies at first. Words would break up or run together, and he’d have to process things. Now it didn’t matter how she strung the noises together; he got it as easily as Rebecca.

“Wow, big responsibilities, kiddo. I gotta go to court. I’ll see you soon, okay?” he grinned, ruffling Catalina’s hair before she climbed back to the bench and leaned against Rafael. He was proud that his daughter hurried to his side when she wanted protection from the strange place and people around them. It made him feel like he was doing something right. The clerk, as annoying as she was, did get them moved up, and Rafael carried Catalina in, setting her on the bench directly behind his seat. After a few moments, she got nervous, standing and leaning against the bannister as everyone got settled. Rafael quietly urged her to sit as everyone settled in, looking over the file before him. She didn’t, looking around at the busy courtroom, and he set his mouth in a line, picking her up and fighting the urge to smile as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head came to rest on his shoulder.

“Do you need a continuance, Mr. Barba?” the judge asked. He’d been in front of this judge before. Last time, it was as a prosecutor in the Martha Hobbs case. He supposed that was why there was a tone of amusement in his voice. There goes whatever reputation he had left, but it didn’t bother him like he expected. 

“Not at all,” he said breezily. Suddenly, he realized he’d perfected that parental stance. The one where fingers laced around the toddler on his hip, but he could still take back a hand to turn pages and write notes. He’d always thought it was some kind of magic when Liv did it with Noah. “Shall we move ahead with Mr. Aerie’s arraignment?”

“Of course. Nothing unusual here.” Rafael fought the urge to roll his eyes, cutting his eyes to the ADA for this case covering a laugh. He was just glad it wasn’t Carisi this time.

“He’s weird,” Catalina whispered, well aware of how to keep her voice quiet enough only her father could hear her. He squeezed her gently, the corner of his mouth tugging up. Soon enough, Brandon was being escorted to pay bail, and Catalina had commented on the whole affair. She’d done much better than he’d expected, so he knew he’d be taking her for ice cream. His biggest worry had been the courtroom with it’s crowded benches, but she’d settled in just fine on his hip. 

It was still strange to him the way he could be a source of comfort for her, and he felt the weight of responsibility in the best way. She trusted him implicitly, looked for him when she needed comfort. Sure, she’d leave his side for a friend, but she’d always want to come back and climb onto his lap. It struck him again how unimaginable his father’s behavior was. In fact, he’d thought about it a lot as he took care of Catalina, especially the past few days with Rebecca gone. His first instinct with her was never anger. Occasional frustration with a tantrum, but she was learning to understand the world and needed him to make some part of it safe and consistent, not scary and volatile.

“Bye Mr. Aerie,” she said softly as they parted ways, Brandon’s wife ecstatic to get him home. Taylor was still in the hospital, and they’d be spending the night by her side. This case made him wish he could keep Catalina with him forever, safe from the kind of people he’d seen in his tenure at SVU. She wrapped around his knees on the steps of the courthouse as he answered questions. Media moved on, and they didn’t want to examine him anymore. They just wanted the statement and to follow Brandon into the waiting car. He would’ve held his daughter close, but he didn’t want her face plastered on the news. Rafael didn’t leave the Aeries until the SUV’s door closed, Catalina’s hand held in his. Once they were gone, he scooped her up and started towards the ice cream parlor he knew was only a couple of blocks away.

“You were very good today, mija,” he smiled gently, kissing the top of her head. “I think we ought to go for a walk and get you some ice cream.”

“Really?” she asked, and her smile was wide enough he could not say no if he wanted.

“Really,” he nodded, laughing as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Gracias, papi!”

A long time ago, he would have tried to maintain the composure and seriousness from inside the courthouse until he was far from where anyone could see him this relaxed. Now he was adjusting his briefcase, as his daughter told him all about what she wanted on her ice cream. She wouldn’t take a nap that afternoon after the amount of sugar he was about to give her, but he had a feeling the grin he’d get, her face covered in melted chocolate and ice cream, would be worth it.

“Ms. Olivia!” Catalina’s voice made him follow her gaze, seeing Liv making her way to the courthouse. 

“So that’s how you got Brandon moved up the docket.”

“I added a one to the date when I texted mami to babysit while Becs is gone,” he said, mouth set in a line again. He didn’t like the fact this story was both unavoidable and going to be told forever.

“So Cat got to come to court?”

“Al and Rodney are with Becs. Mami is in Florida.”

“I was so good,” Catalina said proudly. “And Mr. Brandon got bailed.”

“Recognizance didn’t work?” she asked.

“He has the means to flee. But the bail is minimal. We’re going to get ice cream.”

“Because I was so good,” Catalina added, face serious as she nodded.

“You were, mija. Say bye to Oliva.” 

Soon, they were sitting at a table in the ice cream shop, and there was far more ice cream in front of Catalina than Rebecca would ever approve of. He’d originally said one scoop, any toppings, but then she asked with wide eyes if she could get three flavors. Normally, he’d try to say no, but not today. She’d been good at the courthouse, plus he was the one she inherited her sweet tooth from. They’d gotten four scoops and every topping she wanted with an agreement she’d share with papi. He’d almost teared up when she said I always share with papi. Almost. But now he was taking a picture of them together, trying to decide how much he hated that he took selfies now. But, he only took selfies like this, of him sitting in a low booth with Catalina beside him and the massive sundae between them. Surely, that didn’t count? He sent it to Rebecca anyway.

Guess who was an angel in court. We miss you, mami.

Certainly not the hot one. Proud of her. I miss you both terribly.

What time do you get home tonight?

Eleven. The boys are dropping me off. And I’m guessing that sugar means you’ll both be up.

I’ll be up either way. Te amo, hermosa. I hope the trip has been good to you.

I love you, handsome. It has been, but I miss my family.

“Should we video call mami when we get home?” he asked when sticky hands had been cleaned as they walked back to the car. He saw familiar faces passing them by, giving nods as they approached the courthouse they’d parked near. 

“Yeah!” she nodded eagerly, and Rafael could see the energy hitting her. 

“Or maybe we call her from the park? Then you can play! Run around and swing and slide.” He was humming each activity, pressing kisses to the top of her head. He hadn’t taken her to Central Park yet, and he’d been to the Billy Johnson Playground on the east side with Olivia and Noah when she’d needed a friend. It looked like an old part of the nature around it, making him think of the stories Catalina was so fond of. She liked gnomes and cottages in the woods lately, and the little park fit right in. Plus, the focus was more on what she could run on and climb, but still with the swing he could push her on when she got tired. When she did get tired, he could rest with her at the little gazebo and feel secluded and out of the city.

Maybe they needed a vacation.

“Yes!” she giggled, hugging his neck. He smiled, stopping at the car to order an Uber. To and from court was all the driving he intended to do. He traded his briefcase for the diaper bag, leaving his vest and blazer now that the day had warmed up and tucked one of the blankets Rebecca insisted was in case of emergency in the diaper bag. 

“We’re going to a really special park.”

“Why’s it special?”

“You know the pretty one the zoo is at?”

“Yeah?”

“Papi knows a cool playground there. It looks like gnomes live there.”

“That is cool,” she said, her excitement apparent. He loaded them into the car, ever grateful to not have to drive, and tipped generously when the driver was kind enough to drop them off away from the zoo. As soon as they were in the park, Catalina wanted down, her hand in his as they walked along the path.  When they got to the little gazebo, he stopped, and Catalina looked up at him quizzically.

“Want to call mami from here?” She lit up, pulling herself to stand on the bench he sat on. Rebecca was packing up, he knew, so he wasn’t surprised when she answered quickly, blowing her hair from her face. When she fully registered it was them, she grinned. 

“Mama!” 

“Catalina!”

“Becs!”

“Raf!”

Rebecca was relieved to see the day really must be going well. Catalina was giddy, blue from what Rebecca guessed was cotton candy ice cream staining the cuff of her sweater as she pushed her hair back. Rafael was smiling, the one that showed his teeth and crinkled his eyes. They still hadn’t been home, but the image of Rafael in the dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his tie and suspenders featuring the same shade of pink as their daughters pants was perfection. She wasn’t sure he realized how often he did it, but she didn’t want him to stop matching their daughter so she’d never tell. 

“You guys seem like you’re having fun! Maybe it’s good papi can’t type.” This time Rafael laughed because he was kind of thankful for his snafu. This weekend was only his third or fourth time out and about with Catalina for more than a trip to the park or run to the grocery store. This weekend, they’d gone to a museum and church on their own, and now they were having another daddy daughter day. He liked it. 

“Papi and I had...lunch....that wasn’t ice cream. And now we’re at a special playground!”

“The Billy Johnson Playground at Central Park. I’ll take pictures for you, mami.”

“You two will have fun. You’ll have to show it to me one day.”

“Secret park!” Catalina said seriously and his smile grew broader, arm around her middle. 

“Maybe we can show mami this part before?”

“Deal.” They said their goodbyes soon enough, Rebecca heading to the airport. He watched as Catalina walked just a couple of steps ahead, looking back over her shoulder to be sure he was there. Her eyes lit up when she saw the park, and Rafael was glad to see there were other kids her age there. They hadn’t quite found her a group of friends her own age; Fin’s grandson, Jaden, was one of only a couple, and Rafael didn’t know the other two well. He stayed close to her as she hurried to the climbing set, taking pictures and sending them on to Rebecca. Mostly, moms and nannies were there, and he felt slightly out of place. When he was in groups of parents, he always found himself wondering who knew. Shifting awkwardly, he nodded towards them and went back to watching his daughter with a fond smile.

She’d found two sisters, one her age and one who looked to be about five. The older girl was helping the younger two navigate the playset, leading them to slides and climbing nets easily. Each time Catalina looked unsteady on her feet, which was often given her age, he wanted to scoop her up, but apparently it was important to let her take a tumble or two. Rafael didn’t like that idea or the fact that they had to keep bandages in the diaper bag. Luckily, the time she did fall, landing on her rear with her legs out, the older of her new friends laughed and helped her up. 

“I’m guessing white sweater is yours?” a man asked, and he chuckled. 

“Yeah.”

“Her new friends are mine. Flower pants and leopard dress.”

“They made friends fast.”

“Is she into princesses and fairy tales?”

“Yeah. Especially gnomes right now?”

“Sarah is my eldest. She’s obsessed with Fairies.”

“Makes sense. Catalina like fairies too.”

“She and Megan look the same age?”

“Two and a half?”

“Right on,” he chuckled. “I’m Hank.”

“Rafael. I think we’re the only dads here today.”

“Yeah. It’s normally just me during the day when we’re here. I’m a writer, so I can stay home while my wife’s at work. You’re all dressed up though. I’m guessing this isn’t your normal day?”

“I’m an attorney, but I work from home.”

“How does that work?” 

“I work with the Innocence Project. Meetings with defendants are Mondays. I can do the paperwork and brief writing from home. Then court when needed. I take defense work on occasion, like today. Sitter fell through so Cat had to come. My girlfriend is a teacher, and she snuck off with her friends for a long weekend.”

“My wife’s a school librarian. We picked those educators, huh?”

“Apparently.” It felt so normal to be talking to him, and Rafael thought to himself maybe he could have a dad friend now. His friends from Harvard and the DA’s office and SVU had kids, but they’d always have been work colleagues first. There was no erasing what they’d seen together, the tension over cases, the Householder case. Hank seemed nice enough, and they had similar lives. At least they could team up on park trips since it turned out their usual stomping grounds overlapped. 

God, Hank looked like a writer though. He had on a thick flannel over a t-shirt, and tattoos peaked out of the rolled up sleeves. Slim fit jeans and black sneakers, the cool kind not the functional kind, just rounded it out. He was tall and lanky and younger than him, and Rafael suddenly felt he could be Catalina, Megan and Sarah’s grandfather. Hell, he technically could. Still, he was new to this, and he supposed most men in their fifties weren’t settling down with a partner for the first time and raising their first child. Besides, Hank was probably still a little older than Rebecca.

“Megan scraped her knee,” Sarah said, running over to the two men, followed by Catalina holding the hand of teary Megan. 

“Shit-”

“Dad, that’s a bad word.”

“Shoot,” Hank corrected. “I forgot the bag.”

“I’ve got bandages. Princess ones,” Rafael said, digging the box from the diaper bag. “There’s neosporin in there too.”

“Thanks.” 

Catalina climbed on Rafael’s lap, and he could tell by how she laid back against him that he had succeeded; she was tired out. Rafael didn’t want to go yet, able to hear Hank saying they’d head home once Megan was patched up. Was making friends as an adult always so much like asking for a girl’s number was when he was younger? He hadn’t been a dad for long, only a few months. Maybe having someone other than Rebecca he could call during tantrums and long days would be good?

“Hey, before everyone heads out, maybe we can all meet at the park again sometime? The girls seemed to really get along.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Hank said, digging out his phone and handing it to Rafael. “Put your number in. I haven’t made many dad friends who aren’t also writers or don’t have traditional office jobs. We’re both basically house husbands.”

“Yeah. And it’s hard.”

“Easier than it was two years ago though, right? Five’s even easier.”

“I actually only found out I was a dad in December. It’s a long story. But it’s easier now than in January.”

“We’ll delve into that at the park later this week?”

“Perfect. Do you take insurance?”

“As long as you’ve hit your deductible. Send me the pictures of the girls, okay?”

“Will do,” he nodded as they walked towards the sidewalk. He’d ordered an Uber to take he and Catalina back to his car. Soon enough, he was cooking her dinner, watching her dance around the kitchen to the soft jazz he was playing, and Rafael was grateful for the break from Disney. Not having Rebecca’s return each evening made him appreciate even more how much she’d had to do to keep their daughter happy and healthy and safe for the last two years. He needed the time he’d had to heal, but he often wished he could go back and be here to help sooner. It was his own fault. Instead of pressing the guilt down like he used to, he let himself acknowledge it, tucking it to the side instead as he settled a bowl of macaroni in front of Catalina. Once she was tucked in, he put his feet on the coffee table, working on his laptop and only pausing to send Hank the pictures he’d snapped of the girls playing. He heard Rebecca at the door at eleven, just like she’d estimated, and he hurried to meet her. 

“Heya, handsome,” she grinned, and Rafael could feel the stupid grin split his face.

“Welcome home, hermosa,” he beamed, pulling her in and kissing her deeply. 

“Missed me?” she teased as she smoothed his hair.

“Terribly,” he nodded. “I’ve been spoiled to see you every day.”

“It seems like you and Cat had a good time though?”

“Yeah. We went to the Children’s Museum Saturday. Then Sunday was mass and lazy movies. Today was hectic, but good.”

“Yeah? You two seemed happy at the park. And ice cream for lunch.”

“We had a lot of fun at the park. She made friends with two girls, Sarah and Megan. They have a playdate Thursday.”

“Oh yeah?” she chuckled. “You finally click with the playground moms?”

“Hank. He’s a writer, and his wife is a school librarian. His girls are two and five. He’s home with them most of the time.” Rebecca couldn’t help but grin at how he tried to pretend it was just convenient. 

“That’s cool. I bet it could be nice talking to non-police or court affiliated people, hm? Maybe you two could grab a beer sometime.”

“We’ll see. He’s surprisingly nice to talk to. Sarah and Megan have the same tantrums.”

[unicyclehippo]

I'd love to see 31 in that prompt list you just reblogged with beaujester!

oh i bet u would What A Surprise

31. “Can I kiss you?”

//

she’s been thinking about it for a long time. since it happened, really, and constantly for a while after that. and then, at some point she can’t quite place...she had thought less and less about fjord kissing her.

saving her life?

saving her life via kiss.

the thought had come back in a big way for reasons she’s not ready to think about yet so here she is—standing with burning cheeks and trembling hands in fjord’s room, waiting for his answer.

he was clearly polishing his sword—not a euphemism, though now that she thinks about it she giggles. the laugh takes on a hysterical note and that’s what gets fjord up on his feet, breaking out of the stunned fish look. with a flick of his wrist, the new sword is gone and he crosses the room in a few long strides. hesitates for a second before settling his hands on her shoulders.

‘hey,’ he says, so gently, so kind, in the way he always is when it is just the two of them, ‘what’s wrong?’

she shakes her head. ‘nothing. just—you can say no, if you want, i just thought—‘

‘jester,’ why does he sound sorry? pitying? is she pitiful for asking? his hands are calloused, warm, as he lifts them to her cheeks. ‘you have to give me a second to catch up. you want—‘ he flushed a little. ‘you want me to kiss you?’

‘i—‘ she leans forward until her forehead knocks against his sternum. enjoys the way his arms settle around her shoulders, hug her. there’s something not quite right about it, he’s being too careful about it like he’s not sure he’s doing it right, or that he should be, and it makes jester itch all over. is it too much to ask that she can be held? hugged? kissed? why does it never feel right? ‘you saved me,’ she says. it’s easier when she can’t see his face. ‘you kissed me.’

‘i—yeah. i did.’

‘were you just saving my life? or were you kissing me?’

she can almost hear his heart, beating away steadily beneath new muscles. maybe that’s why it feels wrong. she knew him, met him, when he was slimmer, less muscular, and she wonders if that’s why it doesn’t feel quite right. if it’s something she has to get used to again.

‘i was saving you,’ fjord says. ‘i couldn’t let you drown. you—we’ve been a team from the start, jes, i couldn’t.’

jester nods.

fjord’s hold lightens a little as though he expects her to leave. when she doesn’t, he hugs her a little tighter and that feels better. more comfortable. she shifts so her cheek is pillowed on his shoulder and sighs.

‘i think...i knew that.’

‘are you upset?’ he asks quietly.

‘a little, maybe.’

‘okay. can i...do something?’

‘answer a question?’

fjord’s hold tightens a moment, then relaxes. ‘yeah. anything,’ he says, and he sounds like he means it. really means it. it can be hard to tell with fjord but even as jester thinks that, she realises that she trusts him with the deep, unshakeable faith she allows for very few people.

‘do you want to kiss me? do you want—‘

‘do i want you?’ fjord asks. she knows what the wildmother sees in him; the warm, the gentleness of the waves on the beach. the sting of salt in a wound. ‘not like that. i love you, jester, i—i hope you know that, i hope i’ve done well enough to show that. but no. i’m sorry.’

she has a lot of questions but mostly they boil down to: do you want someone else? or do you just not want me? but she hasn’t the energy to ask it, hasn’t the fortitude now to hear the answer. it isn’t that she’s upset that fjord doesn’t want her—which is new and novel of a thought, because she was sure, sure that she loved fjord in those big grand romantic ways and to feel very little more than disappointment is...confusing. she’s just tired. tired of not being wanted.

‘okay,’ she says, and hugs him tighter.

‘okay?’

‘yeah. okay.’

it takes a little while but eventually the tension runs out of fjord like a tide, pulling away bit by bit until it reveals the covered shore and she thinks despite the faint hurt and disappointment she might be happy with what she has found in its place. happy with the fjord that hugs her tight and presses a kiss to her hairline, gentle and full of a love jester thinks she’ll always need.

eventually, she steps back. wipes at her cheeks where a few tears have spilled over. fjord offers her a handkerchief—‘such a gentleman,’ she teases, and accepts it.

‘you want...tea? or a nap? or...’

jester smiles, not quite her typical brilliant smile but a good one nonetheless. ‘no, it’s okay. i’m gonna...i’m gonna go read under the tree or something. draw something for the traveller.’

‘okay.’ fjord opens the door for her, walks her out to the landing. he starts down, toward the kitchen, before stopping a few steps lower than her. ‘jes?’

‘mhm?’

‘what—made you come to me? and ask?’

can i kiss you? jester remembers saying to him, almost frantic with the request. it had felt like life or death in that moment, like she was chasing after something vital, something she needed.

jester’s eyes slide down past him, down to the room where she had been before. the training room, packed down hard with sand, and the training dummies. where she had been watching beau fight with potent focus, where she had sat beside her friend, and where they had somehow been drawn closer and closer on the bench as they spoke and plotted how to prank nott or maybe caduceus, he’s a solid good sort, in an effort to get yasha to laugh—or maybe smile, jessie, beau had said, with an awkward tilt of her head, seeing as laughter might be like a second step or something. break the proverbial emotional ice with some light smiles first. the smile beau had offered up was small and sweet and ripe with mischief as she talked about what a really bad fucking idea it’d be to prank caleb, and jester hadn’t been able to look away. how had she not noticed—

‘jes? did something happen?’

jester’s attention darts back to fjord, looking like he’s about to climb back up to her.

‘nothing bad,’ she tells him. ‘i don’t think.’

‘do you wanna talk about it?’ he offers, scratching at the back of his neck. ‘i don’t know if i’m the right person for it but—‘

‘would you be upset if i asked someone else?’

fjord’s expression shifts quickly—the concern washed away by surprise, and then a momentary dark glimpse of something she can’t place, so quick that jester thinks it hardly belonged to him at all. finally, calm settles and she can see nothing but curiosity glinting in dark eyes, like light off capped waves. he smiles a crooked smile, the tip of a tusk peeking above his lip.

‘someone got you in a tizzy,’ he deduces. ‘and you came to me.’

guilt hits her like a tidal wave and jester grips onto the bannister, pulls her bottom lip into her mouth to worry at it.

‘i—yes, but i didnt know, i didn’t realise—i wasn’t using you, fjord, i wasn’t—‘

‘jester,’ he cuts her off, ‘i know.’ he loves her too. she can see it. the deep affection, the adoration, has never been more obvious. ‘i don’t think you’re capable of that. nah, that’s not true. you could do anything you wanted. but i reckon you’d never do it.’ he appraises her silently, then adds, ‘i’m here for you. whatever happens.’

jester smiles, this one trembling. ‘thanks,’ she says, a little choked.

//

she gets a peaceful half hour or so in the garden before someone raps on the door, presses it slowly open. she’s only a little surprised to find that it is beau peeking into the space, blue eyes lighting up when she spies jester seated by the traveller’s shrine cad had made for her.

‘hey. missed you at dinner. fjord told us you were up here, didn’t want to be disturbed.’ she steps in cautiously, ready to leave the instant jester asks her to. ‘i brought up something—just some stew, it’s weirdly good, cad’s a great cook. and,’ with a flourish she produces something that looks like a blueberry but is the size of an eyeball. ‘xhorhassian sweet. it’s a berry, i think.’ she looks at it a little nervously, before shrugging. ‘i’d offer to try it first, but i’m immune to poison and shit like that. i can make nott eat one first, if you want.’

jester laughs. ‘i’ll risk it,’ she says, and beckons beau over. it only occurs to her when beau is approaching that maybe it isn’t a good idea when everything is so close to the surface of her thoughts. but beau is already sitting and handing her the bowl. she lays down next to jester, easy and relaxed, folds her hands behind her head and stretches her legs out long, sighs happily.

‘i love these lights,’ she admits. ‘they’re beautiful. and not just because everyone else around here can’t figure out what the fuck we were on when we grew a tree outta the top of the house.’

jester grins. ‘yeah.’ she glances down, eyes flicking over the play of the light over beau, over her oddly serene face, over her lovely brown skin, the shining flicks of brocade to her new uniform. ‘beautiful.’

beau tenses.

jester lifts her eyes to see her friend watching her intently, but though the tension doesn’t ease, beau says nothing.

jester eats. pretends to doodle in her journal, trying to decipher the warmth in her gut at feeling beau beside her, the warmth of her skin, the slow even breathing, the occasional odd murmur as she shifts, pulls an annoying pebble out from under her back.

‘can i kiss you?’ jester blurts out after she has finished her dinner and set it aside.

beau’s knee jerks in her surprise and then her abs are bunching and she’s sitting bolt upright. she opens and closes her mouth a few times and then says simply, ‘yeah.’

‘yeah?’

‘if that’s what you want.’

jester frowns. ‘what do you want?’

beau looks like she doesn’t know what to say again. her shoulders press back—less of a shrug than a nervous shift. ‘i want...you to be happy.’

‘beau.’

‘i’m serious. i’d—do a lot to make you happy, jes.’

jester ducks her head, unsure of what exactly she’s feeling. happy that she got a yes, but everything else beau says makes her wary of taking it. it isn’t quite appeasement, but...

‘i’m not good at talking,’ beau says. shifts not closer but so she’s turned toward jester. ‘i’m—not great with wanting things. i’m kinda...a selfish asshole.’

‘beau, that is not true,’

‘i mean, it kinda is though.’ beau puts her hand over jester’s mouth so she can’t disagree. it’s silly but all jester can think is that even this small contact is right, is good, is terrifying but in this weird, nice, bigger-than-nice, fizzing, and did she mention terrifying kind of way. ‘hold on, i’m trying,’ she continues, and jester forces herself to settle. beau kinda looks like she’s going to puke, or maybe panic. ‘i’m—fuck, okay, i guess we’re doing this—i’m into you, jes. in a big way. and i’m okay with having that in, in whatever way you want. i’ll be your best friend, your roommate, your—protector,’ she says in an oddly stilted, awkward way jester realises is shy. it makes jester want to scream all of a sudden because she doesnt know what this is, where all of this is coming from, how she didn’t know that beau could be like this, be so endearing and warm and noble. she wants to scream because it feels like too much and too little all at once—beau is right there but it feels like she’s too far away, like there is this great yawning chasm between them and jester doesn’t know how to close it, how to cross it.

jester reaches up, slowly, and peels beau’s hand from over her mouth. turns so they’re seated alike, cross legged, knees to knees.

beau looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, holding herself so firmly in place that she’s buzzing with the effort of it. she looks peaceful and terrified, and it’s strange to see her own feelings reflected in beau, who sometimes seems entirely alien—brave and strong and brash and, and lovely.

‘i don’t know everything i’m feeling,’ jester whispers.

beau nods quickly. ‘yeah, yeah, of course, it’s fine, i’m okay with—‘

jester doesn’t know what she’s okay with because she sets her own hand over beau’s mouth. ‘i’m not finished.’

beau rolls her eyes. settles. ‘that’s fair,’ she says, words muffled.

‘i don’t want—‘ jester gulps. ‘to ruin anything.’ she thinks about the chaos crew and girls night and late nights with beau in their room and reading her romance novels together and shopping and thinks about fjord and— ‘can i kiss you anyway?’ she asks, feeling the bite of being selfish instantly, and beau’s eyes lose that little bit of tension in the corners, go sky blue with warmth.

jester’s breath catches in her throat as beau lifts a hand and instead of taking jester’s hand away as she had done, beau holds it close for a moment, kissing jester’s palm before she lifts it away. the touch of it feels like a burning brand, like somehow her hand is buzzing with life, with energy, like beau has made it—jester’s brain stutters over the analogy for a second, because it’s too big and too much, surely, but the words come anyway. beau’s kiss makes her feel divine, worshipped.

jester is still trying to wrap her head around that when beau leans in, traces her fingers down jester’s cheek.

‘yeah?’ she asks, holding back.

jester nods. closes the distance. so that’s how she does it, she thinks, and then she is kissing beau—beau is kissing her—and this, this feels... this feels. she can’t say right, she can’t say too much, she has nothing to compare it to, the way her heart feels to beat too fast and stop altogether, both at the same time. the way she goes hot and cold, and all her world closes down into where she is touching beau and being touched by beau. a hand on her cheek, the still-burning kiss on her hand, her own hand on beau’s neck, the skin so soft and the short wispy hairs that escape from her top knot tickling against her fingers, and beau is kissing her.

[peaches-of-1]

Phantom of the Opera!AU (Pt2)

Masquerade until the end (for easier reading)

Fireworks went off as people of all shapes and sizes arrived in costumes. Animals, humans, alternative, nothing was off limits for the masquerade.

Junjin noticed his friend even with a mask on his face, “Monsieur Andy!”

And his friend noticed Junjin even with visible horns on his head, “Monsieur Junjin!”

Andy was dressed as a rooster, and his business partner and friend as a ram. Both preferred the hand held masks instead of ones that stayed firmly on one’s face. The men laughed and hugged before returning to the women they had come with in matching costumes, hanging on their arms. Chorus girls to be more specific, who the managers had won over in one way or another.

“Dear Andy, what a splendid party!”

“The prelude to a bright new year!”

“Quite a night, I'm impressed.”

“Well, one does one's best!” Andy exclaimed, smiling brightly.

The men grabbed drinks for both them and their dates and held up their glasses, “Here's to us!”

“The toast of all the city--”

The taller man added, “What a pity that the Phantom can't be here!”

Junjin, Andy, and their dates posed for one of the party photographers, smiling and experiencing true joy for the first time since they started working at the opera house. True, the Phantom had not been seen for months. No mishaps. No other murders to be written off as accidents in the newspapers.

Hundreds if not thousands of gown and suit covered bodies whose faces were obstructed with a mask either attached to the head by adhesive or ribbon with the alternative of simply being held in one’s hand with a stick danced in beaded and shining secrecy.

Everyone cheered, “Masquerade! Paper faces on parade Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you! Masquerade! Every face a different shade Masquerade! Look around—there's another mask behind you!”

And not to mention the colors which were brought into the room. Flash of mauve. Splash of puce. Fool and king. Ghoul and goose. Green and black. Queen and priest. Trace of rouge. Face of beast. Faces…Take your turn. Take a ride. On the merry-go-round which had been brought in and set up just for the occasion!

Eye of gold (in an inhuman race) Thigh of blue. True is false. Who is who? Curl of lip. Swirl of gown. Ace of hearts. Face of clown. Faces…

Drink it in, drink it up ‘till you've drowned in the light, in the sound.

But who can name the face?

“Masquerade!” Loud voices hollered as the less financially stable said from their own party in the backstage area of the theatre.

Younger ones not internally scorned by the signs of flaunting wealth gazed through cracks while the older ones drank and danced, looking on in awe.

“Grinning yellows, spinning reds. Masquerade! Take your fill—let the spectacle astound you!” They gasped and acted out the affluent manners, “Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads. Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you!”

While those in the masks kept some thoughts to themselves, Masquerade! Seething shadows, breathing lies. Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you! Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes…Masquerade! Run and hide—but a face will still pursue you!

However, that did not stop the opera folk from having a good time.

“What a night!” Jessi exclaimed, beaded mask held up to her face with her bosoms nearly touching her chin.

“What a crowd!” Her love Psy added.

The managers looked at each other with the shorter one saying, “Makes you glad!”

His friend couldn’t help but agree, “Makes you proud! All the crème de la crème!”

Jessi added with a smile behind her mask, “Watching us and watching them!”

Soyeon bowed to a potential suitor, “And all our fears are in the past!” and was pulled into a dance with them.

There was the shared relaxation even before having drank any alcohol that there had been three months of relief, of delight, of Elysian peace! And they could breathe at last since they believed there would be no more notes, no more ghost! To add more liveliness to the party and to quell her own doubts, CL grabbed a pipe of bubbly.

“Here's to health!” She said, raising up her glass.

“Here's a toast: To a prosperous year!” Andy grinned at her.

Junjin and their dates did the same, “To our friends who are here!”

Psy and Jessi said in sync, “And may our ​splendour ​never fade!”

Three months!

“What a joy!” Soyeon said in her white and blue gown.

“What a change!” Her mother said, keeping a close eye on the blonde headed young woman.

“What a blessed release!” The managers cheered.

Madame CL smiled at them and went to find her own partner to dance with, “And what a masquerade!”

You entered in a pastel pink gown which made it appear as though you were simply floating into the room with Chan on your arm. Both of you had smiles on your faces. The two of you had grown ever closer to one another during these three months without Taehyung brooding over you and the theatre.

Your hand covered in white opera gloves played with the high carat ring which rested on a silver chain around your throat and whispered to your militantly clad fiancé. The ring was one which he gave to you when he proposed.

“Think of it! A secret engagement! Look—your future bride! Just think of it.​” You spun around in joy.

Chan smiled but voiced his confusion, “But why is it secret? What have we to hide? You promised me…” he leaned in for a kiss.

You pulled back before lips could graze, “No, Raoul, please don't, they'll see…”

“Well then let them see. It's an engagement, not a crime! Y/N, what are you afraid of?”

“Let's not ​argue,​” You said.

“Let’s not argue.” He repeated with a nod and held your hand.

“Please ​pretend. You will ​understand in time ~”

I can only ​hope I'll ​understand in time, the Aussie thought to himself.

Part of you worried that Taehyung was still there. Even though you yourself hadn’t even seen or heard any trace of him since you and Chan confessed to each other on the snowy rooftop. Even though you wanted him gone, and you were appreciative of his absence, he was still there in a way. Inside your mind while the grinning blonde man in front of you had your heart. Within his smile, he held no worries. He was safe and in love with you. Anyone could see that.

Why did you worry? With Chan, everything would be alright.

A few performers put on a show using golden fans and danced upon the stairs, “Masquerade! Paper faces on parade…Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you! Masquerade! Every face a different shade. Masquerade! Look around—there's another mask behind you! Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads. Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you!”

Some soloists even had their time to shine. You giggled and looked up at your fiancé to see if he was having just as much fun as you were, and he was. He was!

“Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds. Masquerade! Take your fill—let the spectacle astound you!”

Suddenly, the candles went out and gasps filled the room as attention was brought to the top of the staircase. He was there. Taehyung. V. The Phantom of the opera. Not a sound was heard other than his boots clicking against the marble floors.

He looked around, draped in red with a skull mask covering his own face, “Why so silent, good Messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me, good Messieurs? I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score—” He took it out of his cape. “‘Don Juan Triumphant’!”

You stayed fixated on him as he threw down the manuscript on the bannister and took our what was without a doubt, a real sword before gazing around at all the startled faces looking on in awe.

“Fondest greetings to you all! A few instructions just before rehearsal starts.” He approached the couple of the theatre first.

Chan touched your back affectionately to denote his leave before going off to get word to the cops.

“Jessi must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting 'round the stage~”

Taehyung gave a fake pout and stuck his sword into the feathery accents atop her head, ruffling them. Psy began to charge forward to protect his love before the sword was pointed at his stomach, making him stop short.

“Our Don Juan must lose some weight…” He tilted his head slowly to the side. “It's not healthy in a man of Jae-sang's age. And my managers must learn…” He said as he walked towards them. “That their place is in an office, not the arts.”

The Phantom booped them each on the nose before he sheathed his silver weapon and simply stared at you with fiery eyes.

“As for our star, Miss Y/N, no doubt she'll do her best. It's true, her voice is good. She knows. Though, should she wish to excel, she has much still to learn. If pride will let her return to me, her teacher…Her teacher…” he motioned to himself to make sure everyone knew who gave you your voice.

His eyes burned your skin as it searched it for an answer. You approached him…seeing the adoration behind it all. Wanting to be wanted so strongly. As you were mere inches away from each other, his eyes flicked down to your sternum to see your engagement ring around your neck.

Red gloved fingers grabbed it and ripped it from your throat as he said, Your chains are still mine. You belong to me!”

In a flash of fire and a flourish of his cape, Taehyung went down a trap door beneath the grand staircase. HOW MANY SECRET DOORS WERE IN THIS PLACE?!?!

Chan jumped down a moment later to find him. However, the blonde man found himself in a maze of spinning mirror with his sword already brandished to fight the nightmare haunting the one he loved. He swung wherever he saw the masked face, but it turned out not to be him each time.

All he could do was stare and try to track down this demon, not noticing the noose that fell from the ceiling. A hand on his shoulder. Madame CL. She had come to rescue him before certain death.

The two climbed stairs back into familiar territory.

“Madame CL--” Chan beckoned.

“Please,” The older woman said. “I know no more than anyone else.”

He called out her bull, “That’s not true.”

“Chan-ssi, don’t ask. There have been too many accidents already.” She began to unlock her bedroom door.

“Accidents?” He scoffed. “Please, Madame CL…for all our sakes.” The young man grabbed her by the arm.

She sighed and waited for him to release her, “Very well…”

CL put her hair into a ponytail as he turned on a lamp. She stared into a portrait of herself in younger days. Right past her 16th birthday.

Years go, there was a traveling fair in the city. CL had been studying to be a ballerina, one of many living in the dormitories of the opera house.

“Come, come, come inside.” A bearded man called. “Come and see the Devil’s Child.” he called to the young girls.

Devil’s Child was written on one tent in red lettering while the tent itself was pitch black. Several people crowded into it to see a young boy, probably not even ten years old inside a cage with a flour sack over his head with two eye holes cut in the. He played with a monkey doll which had cymbals on its hands, making it clap.

The man knocked it out of his hands before beating him and ripped off the mask, making others in the tent laugh and point fingers in mockery. Not CL, though. She had seen the sadness in his eyes just a moment before the man approached. They threw their coins inside before the so called ‘show’ was over and people began to leave the tent.

She was the last one to leave, feeling pain in her heart for the boy. As the bearded man began to collect the coins, he used a stray section of rope to asphyxiate the man to his death. CL had lingered too long, or just long enough. As another man came in to make sure his fellow worker was ready for the next group, he yelled out.

“MURDER! MURDERER!”

CL took the boy’s hand and took him to the catacombs using a secret entrance once they were out of sight of the cops and fair folk.

“I hid him from the world and its cruelties. He has known nothing else of life since then, except for this opera house. It was his playground.” CL said, choking up. “And now his artistic domain. He’s a genius! He’s an architect and designer. He’s a composer and a magician, a genius, good sir.”

She tried to make her case to Chan who in return gave her a compassionate yet defying gaze.

He responded, “But Clearly, Madame CL, genius has turned to madness.”

The woman sighed, knowing it to be the truth but not wanting it to be all at the same time.

In the week following, Chan did not leave your side except to sleep outside the door. As if Taehyung didn’t have countless ways to get to you. However, there was something you needed to do alone and waited until he was fast asleep to sneak out. You wanted to go see your father’s grave, paying a coachman handsomely to take you there.

Meanwhile, Chan woke with a start and became frightened when he did not find you in your bed enjoying a restful slumber as he had left you to do. You reminded the coachman where you wanted to go. The cemetery. Off you went, not knowing that your love had hopped onto a horse once he found out where you were headed.

With your father’s favorite roses, you recited the poem he had taught you long ago, “Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her father promised her that he would send the Angel of Music. Her father promised her…her father promised her.”

You spoke out loud to your father as to make the graveyard seem less scary, “You were once my one companion. You were all that mattered. You were once a friend and father. Then my world was shattered.” You took a deep breath of freezing cold air.

“Wishing you were somehow here again. Wishing you were somehow near. Sometimes it seemed,​ ​if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here. Wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never would. Dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could.”

You passed by different formations of tombstones and memorials and continued to sing into the vacant air, “Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental, seem for you the wrong companions. You were warm and gentle. Too many years, fighting back tears. Why can't the past just die?”

Among other questions that had nothing to do with him, but you wanted your father more than anything at this moment as you walked towards his resting place slowly in the snow.

“Wishing you were somehow here again, knowing we must say goodbye. Try to forgive, teach me to live. Give me the strength to try. No more memories, no more silent tears. No more gazing across the wasted years.” You sat on your dress, too numb inside and out to feel the cold ground. “Help me say goodbye…help me say…goodbye…”

It was as if a light had gone off inside your father’s mausoleum and a voice came from inside?

“Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance~”

You were scared to believe, but were too hopeful not to try, “Angel or father? Friend or phantom? Who is it there, staring?”

In his ever enchanting voice, the voice sang out in a curious tone, “Have you forgotten your Angel?”

Taehyung.

“Angel, oh, speak. What endless longings echo in this whisper…”

You stood, having set the roses at the bottom of the stairs, and simply watched the unmoving scene before you. Why was it so easy for him to control your mind?

“Too long you've wandered in winter rar from my fathering gaze~”

“Wildly, my mind beats against you,” You replied.

He seemed to have almost a giddy joy in his voice, “You resist, yet your soul obeys.”

“Yet the soul obeys~” The words flew from your mouth in time with his as if you had known them all along.

Again, the two of you sang with each other, changing pronouns respectively. Even in a hypnotic trance of affection, grammar was important.

“Angel of Music! I denied you, turning from true beauty. Angel of Music, my protector…”

“Do not shun me. Come to your strange ​Angel.” He sang before you fell silent and he once again whispered into your mind. “I am your Angel of Music. Come to me: Angel of Music.”

As he beckoned you with his deep melodic voice, you became more and more transfixed, forgetting everything except him. Craving his dark embrace. Not sure if the voice of Chan calling for you was real or false audio. Again, the call of you name rang out in a warm timbre.

You looked back to see the blonde haired man hop off of his white horse and draw his sword.

“Y/N! Y/N, listen to me. Whatever you may believe, this man—this thing—is not your father!”

A sword fight broke out with Taehyung getting the jump on Chan. Though your love fell to the ground, the Phantom missed his body by getting his rapier momentarily stuck in the bark of a fallen tree. This gave your heart time to get himself back onto his feet. Although you wanted it to stop, you had to stay back. You’d be harmed or worse if you were to get any closer.

The two men circled around a rather large above ground tomb until Tae ducked down and Chan lost him for a moment. However, with fast reflexes, he defended himself against the onslaught of quick sword movements. However, red blood stained white sleeves before the Phantom was knocked to the ground, letting go of his weapon. The blonde man went to strike the final blow until you screamed.

“CHAN, NO!” You were breathing heavily. “Not like this.”

Because his heart could not betray you, he put away his sword even as Taehyung mockingly begged him to come back. He watched as you two mounted the white steed and rode off.

His eyes seared the back of your head, “Now let it be war upon you both!”

The morning of opening night, Chan tells the others the truth of what had happened and how they could potentially stop it from happening ever again.

“We have all been blind—And yet the answer is staring us in the face. This could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend.”

Andy nodded, “We're listening.”

“Go on,” Junjin prodded.

Chan continued, “We shall play his game, perform his work, but remember we hold the ace. For, if Miss Y/N sings, he is certain to attend.”

“We make certain the doors are barred!” the shorter manager said.

“We make certain the police are there!” the taller one added.

“We make certain they're armed.” Chan said, wanting to be the very last time the devil was seen alive.

All agreed and were sure that when the curtain fell, his reign would end!

And then your lover went to find you, knowing where you would be. He found you praying--no--worrying in front of the candle you lit for your father as cops surrounded opening night. You looked at the source of intruding footsteps that you knew so well, eyes red and swollen from crying.

“Chris…Chan I'm frightened. Don't make me do this. Chan, it scares me,” You admitted as you stood up from your spot.

He held you in his arms as you practically begged, “Don't put me through this ordeal by fire. He'll take me, I know. We'll be parted forever, and he won't let me go!” You felt your stomach churn something awful at the thought of never being able to see your love again.

Your Bang Chan.

“What I once used to dream…I now dread. If he finds me, it won't ever end.” You stepped closer to the stained glass window. “And he'll always be there, singing songs ​in my head. He'll always be there, singing songs ​in my head…” you sat on the ledge and leaned against the wall.

“You said yourself—he was nothing but a man.” Chan reminded you. “Yet while he lives, he will haunt us '’til we're dead.”

He held your hand and touched your cheek softly, but you felt nothing but fear.

Your eyes looked into his brown orbs, “Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought. He murders all that's good. I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could.” You gave a shuddering sigh. “Oh God, if I agree, what horrors wait for me, in this, the Phantom's opera?”

Chan shook his head and held your hand tighter, “Y/N. Y/N, don't think that I don't care, but every hope, and every prayer rests on you now.” he spoke in his straightforward way full of affection.”

He hugged you tighter than ever, making sure you knew he’d be there no matter what happened.

It began. Chan was in Box 5 because it was his. He could not give anything more to this Phantom man. Not a seat and not Y/N. He had a policeman standing in the doorway for extra security, however.

The chorus sung, “Here the sire may serve the dam. Here the master takes his meat! Here the sacrificial lamb Utters one despairing bleat!” with Jessi singing the same lines louder than them all. “Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets. You will have to pay the bill Tangled in the winding sheets! Serve the meal and serve the maid! Serve the master so that, when tables, plans and maids are laid. Don Juan triumphs once again!”

Soyeon who was playing a prostitute of sorts danced around Jae-sang before having a coin purse tossed at her before she caught it and left.

Psy said his lines as Don Juan, “‘Passarino, faithful friend, once again, recite the plan.’”

The comedic relief known as E’Dawn in the role of Passarino replied, “‘Your young guest believes i'm you. I, the master; you, the man.’” and laughed.

“‘When you met, you wore my cloak. With my scarf, you hid your face. She believes she dines with me in her master's borrowed place! Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff Stealing what, in truth, is mine. When it's late and modesty, starts to mellow, with the wine~’”

E’Dawn nodded, “‘You come home! I use your voice, slam the door like crack of doom!’”

Both paraded around the stage as Psy sang, “‘I shall say, ‘Come, hide with me!

Where, oh, where? Of course—my room!’”

“‘Poor thing hasn't got a chance!’”

Don Juan put on Passarino's cloak and went into the curtained alcove where the bed awaited.

You took a deep breath before singing your part as Aminta, “No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!”

Don Juan returned to stage, but, er...thinner than when he left. Voice much different as well.

“Master?” Paassarino E’Dawn asked, noticing the change.

“‘Passarino—go away! For the trap is set and waits for its prey~’”

Those were the lines, but said more sinerstirly than they ever were in rehearsals.

He sang louder and more confidently, “‘You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent…Silent. I have brought you so that our passions may fuse and merge. In your mind, you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me. Now you are here with me, no second thoughts, you've decided…decided.’”

You looked back and knew right away what had happened.

But his voice. Taehyung’s voice threatened to pull you in once more as he sang the lines you had never heard him sing before. It did things to you that Psy’s vocals just did not do.

“‘Past the point of no return. No backward glances. Our games of make-believe are at an end~~”

News spread quickly as everyone knew that it was not Psy in disguise on stage playing this Don Juan. The voice, it was obvious so the wings became flooded and whispers stirred about who it could be. CL knew it had to be Taehyung, the Phantom.

“Past all thoughts of ‘if’ or ‘when’. No use resisting~! Abandon thought and let the dream descend~ What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?” His familiar flame cloaked in black and white walked around the false flame and towards you. “Past the point of no return. The final threshold~ What warm unspoken secrets will we learn beyond the point of no return?”

His voice enraptured you once more. Even though you had just shot Chan a nervoice look as you made your entrance, you now gave him one of warning. Hoping he got the message before Taehyung could hypnotize you once more.

“‘You have brought me to that moment when words run dry, to that moment when speech disappears into silence…silence.’” You sung, “I have come here hardly knowing the reason why. In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. Now I am here with you, no second thoughts. I've decided…decided.”

Your legs brought you to meet him center stage as you continued to sing what you had practiced.

“‘Past the point of no return, no going back now. Our passion-play has now, at last, begun. Past all thought of right or wrong. One final question: How long should we two wait, before we're one? When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames, at last, consume us?”

Beautiful unison contrasted the harsh cacophony in the other parts of the play. He held you and touched you in ways you had never felt before. If you were in your right mind, you’d be embarrassed, ashamed. However, you were not, and this was theatre. Taehyung held you tightly from behind as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“‘Past the point of no return, the final threshold. The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn. We've passed the point of no return~’”

V’s words came easy to him, “Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude.” as his hand caressed and gently grabbed at your throat. “Say you want me with you here, beside you~”

These were not in the script. These were his own words, a perverse and personal alteration to what you and Chan had told each other. Had he heard them? Of course he had. You looked at him in shock, no longer in character but not letting the crowd know. You put both hands on his masked face.

“Anywhere you go, let me go too. Y/N, that's all I ask of—”

You removed the Phantom's mask to show the world who he really was. Groans and screams and gasps of disgust. As the police began to charge the stage, he grabbed you around the waist and cut the rope for the main chandelier. Taehyung then pushed a lever which opened a trap door through which you both fell. The chandelier crashed into the pit as people fled every which way, starting a fire in the theater.

Jessi searched for her lover who was on the floor with a noose about his neck. She was so distraught at the thought of him being dead, sobbing and crying so loudly atop his body that she didn’t hear his faint but consistent heartbeat still going in his chest.

“Oh my God! Jae-sang, my love!” She cried.

In their own balcony seats, Junjin wailed, “Oh my god. We're ruined Andy—ruined!”

Chan raced backstage to ask Madame CL, “Where did he take her?”

She grabbed his wrist, “Come with me monsieur, I will take you to him. But remember, keep your hand at the level of your eyes!”

“I'll come with you!” Soyeon said in her blouse and pants.

CL refused, “No Soeyon, no. You must stay here! Come with me monsieur, do as I say.”

The two raced down into the depths of the theatre. Everyone was so used to following the teacher, that they tried to do so now. However, the blonde young lady stretched out her arms to stop them.

“No!”

Though you tried to free yourself, Taehyung’s grip was too strong as he took you down a different path.

“Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair! Down we plunge to the prison of my mind! Down that path into darkness, deep as hell!” He demanded. “Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place? Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!”

You could hear the mob from above, “Track down this murder, he must be found!” and again.

“Hounded out by everyone! Met with hatred everywhere! No kind words from anyone! No compassion anywhere! Y/N…Why?” His voice broke. “Why?”

He asked as if you knew, pinning you against a wall as a warning. You were pissed! Why was he doing this? Why was he treating you like a cheap toy when he claimed to have loved you? Not to mention, he had killed so many people with the crystalline light fixture. Your mind raced with the irony of the musical he had you put on. The disguise, him having you say what he always wanted to hear from you. Disgusting. Him. The way he made you feel!

He was looking at the engagement ring he stole from you, but you didn’t care.

You screamed at him, “Have you gorged yourself, at last, in your lust for blood? Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?”

He screamed back, “That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood. Has also denied me the joys of the flesh! This face—the infection which poisons our love” He tried to reach out for you.

But you turned your head away, disgusted more by his actions than anything. No longer wanting anything to do with him. So he wallowed in his despair and strengthened his resolve by getting the wedding veil from the mannequin version of you and placed it upon your head before forcing you to stare at him.

“This face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing. A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing.” Taehyung adored what he wanted you to be, his. “Pity comes too late—Turn around and face your fate: An eternity of this before your eyes!”

He placed the ring back into your hand as a gesture of peace. You wanted peace, but you didn’t want this. Not him. No longer him. You took the veil off and uncovered a nearby mirror since all of them were covered. Why did he even have them if they went unused?

You did not sugarcoat a thing for him, “This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It's in your soul that the true distortion lies…”

Taehyung’s head suddenly turned towards the entrance, “Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest!

Your eyes saw the soggy and exhausted form of your love, “Chan!” you exclaimed.

“This is indeed, an unparalleled delight!” your captor said. “I had rather hoped that you would come, and now my wish comes true—You have truly made my night!”

Chan grasped the bars of the closed gate, “Free her! Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?”

V rolled his eyes, “Your lover makes a passionate plea!”

You responded, “Please Chan, it's useless!”

But he would not give up, “I love her! Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion…”

The Phantom snapped back, “The world showed no compassion to me!”

Your love sang your name in his familiar way, “Y/N, Y/N~ Let me see her…”

“Be my guest, sir…” he shrugged and opened the gate with a lever.

You wanted to run and go to him, but you were scared of what might happen to either of you if you moved forward at all. Especially when Taehyung was already in the water walking towards the one you loved.

“Monsieur, I bid you welcome! Did you think that I would harm her? Why would I make her pay, for the sins which are yours?” He tripped the gate to close.

The sound of the lock taking away the Aussie’s attention just long enough for the Phantom to toss a hidden rope around the unwelcomed guest, binding him to the cold iron of the gate.

True horror struck through your veins.

“Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now—except perhaps Y/N…” the Opera Ghost looked at you with that burning gaze. “Start a new life with me—Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice—This is the point of no return!”

Moisture rolled down your cheeks as you replied, “The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!” you spat out the word.

Chan spoke to you past the Phantom’s form, “Y/N, forgive me, please forgive me. I did it all for you, and all for nothing!”

You steeled your heart and spoke your mind, “Farewell my fallen idol and false friend--”

“Too late for turning back!” the ghost said.

“We had such hopes and now those hopes are shattered.”

“Too late for prayers and useless pity!” The demon spoke while trying rope around Chan’s neck.

Your love who cried out, “Say you love me, and my life is ​over. Either way you choose, he has to win!”

“All hope of cries for help, no point in fighting! For either way you choose, you cannot win! So, do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave?”

“Why make her lie to you, to save me?”

The rope was pulled as a threat and an attempt to make the male victim become quiet.

“Angel of Music~” you tried to plead once more.

But he cut you off, “Past the point of ​no return. The final ​threshold. His life ​is now the prize which you must earn!”

“For pity's sake, Christine, say no! Don't throw your life away for my sake!” Chan told you, willing to lose his life for your freedom.

You couldn’t stop the tears that came from your eyes at seeing the one you loved in such pain and torment, “Who ​deserves this? Why ​do you curse ​mercy?” since he had no pity from you.

“I fought so hard to free you…” Chen sobbed, looking at your strained face.

“Angel ​of ​Music, you deceived me…” you said with everything now quiet. “I gave you my mind, blindly.”

The Phantom growled, “You try my patience—make your choice!”

You stood and looked at your options. It didn’t take too long for you to make your choice. If you chose Chan, he’d die and you’d be unhappy for the rest of your life, losing true love to this villian. However, if your lover went free, he’d be able to move on, to love someone different and have a life with them. Mayhaps even form a family with them.

Even though you were moving, you were making your choice as you did so. Mayhaps, mayhaps you could learn to love the Phantom once more.

“Pitiful creature of darkness. What kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone.”

And so you kissed him, deciding to save Chan even if it meant losing yourself, betraying your heart for your mind and locking it up forever.

V knew. You would always love the other man more than him. You loved the light he gave you so much that you were willing to snuff out your own flame to save it. The Phantom began to cry, knowing the mob was close by, knowing he could never have your heart the way he wanted it. He moved away back to land.

You began to untie Chan, allowing him to breathe properly once more.

“Take her, forget me, forget all of this!” He cut you off as you began to speak. “Leave me alone. Forget all you've seen…Go now, don't let them find you! Take the boat, swear to me, never to tell the secret you know, of the Angel in hell!”

He noticed the care you took with the other man, and it hurt him so much more.

“GO NOW! GO NOW, AND LEAVE ME!” he went to his only place of comfort, his monkey with cymbals.

His music box to which he sung along in a voice choked with tears, “Masquerade…Paper faces on parade…Masquerade…Hide your face, so the world will never find you…” he sniffled.

You let Chan get the boat ready as you had one last thing to do with the Phantom as he looked up at you with teary eyes, letting you see a glimmer of Taehyung.

Alas, it was the soft hearted man who spoke, “Y/N, I love you…”

Without a verbal response, but you took off the engagement ring he had given you and put it in his hand before leaving back to the one your heart could openly love.

“Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime~” you sang to him as he pushed the boat off and began to row.

“Say the word and I will follow you~” which he did, down here.

You smiled at him, “Share each day with me, each night, each morning…” and took one last glance at the Phantom’s lair.

He sang with a shaky husk, “You alone can make my song take flight—It's over now, the music of the night!”

He was alone, truly alone now in his world of night. He smashed all the mirrors still left covered, having long forgotten the one which was an exit as well. V knew that he could no longer stay here. AFter finding the right one, he dropped the golden candle holder and left, only looking back to have the doorway hidden by its original curtain.

Soyeon, with cops and fellow employees of the theatre treaded the water and went through the already opened gate to come across the lair now abandoned yet full of conflicting warmth and coldness. Still, the young woman was the first on dry land and saw the Phantom’s mask near a peculiar music box. Had he left it behind, or was he still here?

She took it, leaving the monkey music box behind and to continue her search for the Phantom of the Opera who she began to find rather endearing despite all he had done.

Now, in the world of today, Chan was rolled to the graveyard in which he had battled the Phantom V all those years ago. However, he was not there to see your father’s grave, no. He was here to see you…or your grave that is. He refused help as he slowly walked with the music box in hand towards your tombstone which had your name up top and [Countess de Bang] below a faded photo of your face. He walked the remaining feet to lay the box in front of you.

“Beloved wife and mother.”

Tears fell from a wrinkled face before noticing a red rose with a black bow. A ring around the stem as well. Taehyung had been here recently.

The Phantom was always there.

A/N: I will fix all spelling mistakes later! Just wanted to get it out today.

[rachelvanbora]

CAST: Sir Oliver Surface ….. Hugh Bonneville Mrs Candour ….. Joanna Lumley Crabtree ….. Roger Allam Sir Benjamin Backbite ….. Mark Gatiss Lady Sneerwell ….. Lisa Dillon Lady Teazle ….. Susannah Fielding Sir Peter Teazle ….. Martin Jarvis Master Rowley ….. Nigel Anthony Joseph Surface ….. Joe Bannister Charles Surface ….. George Blagden Maria ….. Amy Morgan Snake ….. Ifan Meredith Mr Moses ….. Jon Glover Trip ….. Kieran Hodgson Careless/William ….. Simon de Deney Sir Harry ….. Richard Sisson Lucy/Jessie ….. Daisy Hydon

[esteliel]

As rehearsal begin, full casting is announced. Joining the previously announced Killian Donnelly as ‘Jean Valjean’ will be Nic Greenshields as ‘Javert’, Katie Hall as ‘Fantine’, Martin Ball as ‘Thénardier’, Sophie-Louise Dann as ‘Madame Thénardier’, Harry Apps as ‘Marius’, Tegan Bannister as ‘Eponine’, Will Richardson as ‘Enjolras’ and Bronwen Hanson as ‘Cosette’.

Completing the cast will be Joseph Anthony, Helen Aylott, Jamie Birkett, Keoni Blockx, Michael Burgen, Nicholas Carter, Mary-Jean Caldwell, Danny Colligan, Nicholas Corre, Megan Gardiner, Zac Hamilton, Jessie Hart, Teleri Hughes, Brian James Leys, Ruby Lyon, Leo Miles, Shane O’Riordan, Lee Ormsby, Jordan Simon Pollard, Corrine Priest, Aaron Pryce-Lewis, Janne Snellen, Ruben Van keer and Emma Warren.

(x)

[bippot]

Joyride

Story Summary -> There are three things Jakes loves to do at work. None of which are work. One: eating. Two: flirting with his girlfriend. Three: annoying Kevin. At first, he only thought he'd only get to do two of those three options.

Tags -> Smut, Arcades, Car Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Gym Sex, Idiots in Love

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

There's only so many times Jake can run those simulations without getting mind numbingly bored. It's the same tracks over and over again. He knows them like the back of his hand, he's sure of it. Well, it's his job to be sure of it.

Taking a break would be great for him. He could get some food, maybe some of those healthy kettle chips that Catherine brought in (he wouldn't admit to anyone, especially Kevin, but he actually quite likes them), maybe he'd wander over and flirt with his girlfriend while she was helping fix the car with Chuck and Amir, maybe he'd go and annoy Kevin by telling him how he'd got his head stuck in the bannister of the stairs at his house earlier this week. Yeah. He should do that. He should take some time to himself.

First up, the chips. That was easy. He walked up and grabbed some without anyone noticing. If anyone asked, he'd claim he'd intended to reach for the BBQ ones but 'accidently' picked these up and opened them without realising. And, shit, now they're open. He can't waste food now. What would the children in Africa think? Exactly. That's why he has to finish the bag. Not because he likes them, but because he's a good person who loves the environment and the people who inhabit it. He's a humanitarian, if you think about it.

Next up is Y/N. She's got to be around here somewhere. Jake confidently walked up to the car and suavely asked, "How is it you still look beautiful with a car on top of you?"

"Boy, I am not your girlfriend," Chuck warned back. Fuck. Of course. He should've noticed that Y/N doesn't have that big of feet. Oops.

Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, Jake cleared his throat then added, "Uh, do you know where Y/N is?"

"Having her daily girl talk with Catherine."

Great, just great. Sure, his girlfriend being buddies with his boss was helpful. Y/N often aided when he got in Catherine's bad books, which was all of the time. However, it always felt like Y/N was conferring with the enemy. Strangely, Jake thought he'd be more comfortable with his girlfriend talking to Blaney or any number of his actual competitors rather than their boss. 

That totally wasn't true, he was incredibly protective on race days and made sure the other racers knew for a fact that Y/N was his girlfriend, and his only girlfriend at that. He'd make a big show of snogging the hell out of her before he got into the car and after. The message was clear to anyone around the track.

Still, he'd have to move on to step three: annoy Kevin. He just started out with small talk in the beginning, nothing too in depth. Then he'd say, "Did I tell you where I got my head stuck this week?"

"If you say Y/N's thighs again, I'm going to replace you with Jessie."

"No. Well, yeah, always," he replied with a chuckle. Kevin looked exasperated, so Jake continued, "Have you seen the first episode of Modern Family?"

"Years ago, yeah."

"So, Luke, the little boy, got his head stuck in the bannister and I thought, 'he's a kid, that's why. I'm an adult, I could definitely get my head back out.' You'll never guess that I-"

"Go back. You saw a fictional child do something stupid and your first thought was 'I'm going to do it too?' "

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake clarified, "Pretty much, yeah."

"Honestly, sometimes I have no idea how Y/N puts up with you."

"Other than my sparkly eyes and charming smile - her words, not mine by the way - it's probably because I spend most of my time between her -"

Covering his ears childishly, Kevin ordered, "Get out before I fire you."

While Jake was busy with Kevin, Y/N had walked back to the car, only to get told that her 'dumbass of a boyfriend' was looking for her, so she walked into the gym, expecting to find him in there. Nope. Nowhere in sight. 

Yet, he had left one of his hats on the seat of the simulator. He'd probably want that. She made her way over and picked it up, placing it on her head for safekeeping. Safekeeping and the fact Jake always got that goofy big grin whenever she would wear his clothes. That grin that made her feel all warm inside.

As she was about to walk away, the simulator made a noise that attracted her attention towards it. It wouldn't hurt to have one go, right? She'd always been curious. After a quick glance that Jessie or Kevin weren't around, she sat in the driver's seat and began playing.

Being a mechanic meant that she was pretty good with cars, nowhere near as good at driving as Jake, of course. But, better than the average joe. And it wasn't rocket science, it was just pedals and wheels, and she knew how to do that.

Jake opened the gym door to see his girlfriend in his hat in his driver's seat. That man could've exploded on the spot. He quickly shut and locked the door behind him, made his way behind her as she drove and placed his arms around the back of the seat, watching her as she went through the course. She made a few mistakes, but she was having a blast.

'Hey, baby."

"Shhh... focus."

She did as he said and continued the simulation, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on the screen, which was hard because she could hear his deepening breaths close to her ear. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, making her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply.

"Jakey, is this turning you on?"

"Uh-huh," he groaned. Jake was in his own world, lost in his fantasy of Y/N, which actually was a reality. So, he had a big grin on his face and an erection.

When her race was over and the time popped up on the screen, he cheered, "That's only 5 seconds more than Jessie, you're almost a pro, babe."

Turning to face him, she flirted, "Learnt it by watching you, hot wheels," and tilted her head so he'd peck her on the lips. But, he didn't.

Instead, he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip and instructed her to, "Take your trousers off."

What did her little submissive Jake Martin just say to her? Y/N took her time before slowly standing up, unbuttoning her trousers and shimming them to the ground as she watched as he sat down in the driver's seat. Oh, she knew what was about to happen.

She flashed back to a couple of weeks back when they had gone to an arcade for one of their dates. It had been really sweet. Jake had tried his hardest to win a large stuffed penguin for her, but because the games are rigged, they ended up with a mid-sized sloth (which she thought was even cuter but he wasn't having it). They'd happily shared some overpriced dirty fries.

Then he noticed the racing game. Only one of the machines was operational. Still, he wanted a go. "Babe, sit on my lap and we'll both be able to play."

Did she have any reason to decline? No. Why not? If it made him happy, she'd do it.

"I'll do the pedals and gears. You steer. Good?"

"Great."

Things went great. That was until she moved slightly, shifting a little in her seat, and heard him deeply exhale. Then she felt him poke into her.

Because there were children around, she quietly inquired, "Are you hard right now?"

"Rock."

Just that would've been enough. It was unfortunate, it was that moment a fan recognised the famous Jake Martin and asked for a picture. Holding in her chuckle, Y/N took off her cardigan and handed it to him, so he could hide himself behind it, and got off him to take the photo.

"Did you lock the door?"

Nodding, he reached for her hips and pulled her to sit on his thighs, her back to his front. He pulled his joggers and underwear down, then shifted her backwards so she could feel him against her entrance as his hand slipped down the front of her underwear, flicking his index finger against her clit, making her jump.

"Got to be quiet," he warned, before kissing her neck and taking no time to prep her. His hands felt familiar on her body. She'd been with him so many times, so many times this morning already.

"You're so wet, baby," he whispered in her ear, making her shiver and moan. It felt so good, so right. 

And, felt even better when he removed his fingers, pushed her panties to the side and guided her onto his cock. She let out a low, lustful moan as he entered her and his hand immediately clasped over her mouth. 

"Hold onto the wheel" She did as he said and gripped onto the steering wheel before them. Y/N cried out his name into his hand whilst he fucked her with long, hard strokes. It was a good thing that she had something to help steady herself because he began to pick up the pace, pushing her hips down onto his like a madman. The friction was incredible, every nerve ending firing her closer and closer orgasm.

Breaking her mouth free, she breathlessly asked, "What the fuck, dude?"

Chuckling, he cheekily responded, "Did you just dude-zone me while I'm fucking you?"

"Yeah, I gue- ...Oh fuck, Jake," she whispered, taking one of her hands off the wheel and bringing in to the back of his head, intertwining it with his hair. He pounded up into her harder as she did this, and she loved it. The feeling of his hair tickling her palm and his hands gripping her hips for dear life caused her to push his head closer to hers so she could smush her lips against his.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby," he grunted into her mouth, his hand moving back down to play with her to ensure she finished on his cock before he came inside of her. The pressure was building and he needed to release. "Cum for me," he pleaded into her ear.

Loving his voice as he said that, she nodded vigorously and did, releasing his hair and arching her back as she came hard for him, her body shaking on top of him so he had to restrain her hips. Jake's orgasm was so intense he nearly blacked out. It was one of the most powerful he'd ever felt. Y/N smiled and patted his thigh, her breath still staggered, "Good job, stud."

A few minutes later, they were fully clothed and pretending that nothing happened. The door had been unlocked and Jessie walked in. 

"Hey, Y/N. Y/N's boyfriend," she greeted, suspicious but not catching on to anything. "Mind if I use the simulator?"

Smugly smiling, Jake responded, "Be my guest." Y/N didn't even try to hide her smile as she pecked him on the lips (which got a disgusted groan from Jessie - luckily, she had no idea what just happened on the chair she was sitting on) and got back to work.

"What did Jake want?" Amir asked when she arrived back.

"He wanted to talk about going to the arcade."

*Click here for my Adrian Chase masterlist (including Jake Martin), or here for the entire masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

[eduardomarin90]

OF COURSE from Magali García on Vimeo.

One question: what makes you, YOU?

If you had to choose one thing about you, the one thing that is left when you remove all the daily concerns that occupy our minds... what would that be? Would you have something deep and transcendent to say?

Direction: Magali García Music Design: Aimar Molero Clean Up: Serge García 3D Assistant: Nacho velasco Voices: Laura Lockwood, Bob Taylor, Jessie Rae, Jan R+B, Alex Morris, Ezequiel Acosta, Eileen Moreno, Magali García, Eric Bannister

[kartikdutt]

OF COURSE from Magali García on Vimeo.

One question: what makes you, YOU?

If you had to choose one thing about you, the one thing that is left when you remove all the daily concerns that occupy our minds... what would that be? Would you have something deep and transcendent to say?

Direction: Magali García Music Design: Aimar Molero Clean Up: Serge García 3D Assistant: Nacho velasco Voices: Laura Lockwood, Bob Taylor, Jessie Rae, Jan R+B, Alex Morris, Ezequiel Acosta, Eileen Moreno, Magali García, Eric Bannister

[emzeciorrr]

OF COURSE from Magali García on Vimeo.

One question: what makes you, YOU?

If you had to choose one thing about you, the one thing that is left when you remove all the daily concerns that occupy our minds... what would that be? Would you have something deep and transcendent to say?

Direction: Magali García Music Design: Aimar Molero Clean Up: Serge García 3D Assistant: Nacho velasco Voices: Laura Lockwood, Bob Taylor, Jessie Rae, Jan R+B, Alex Morris, Ezequiel Acosta, Eileen Moreno, Magali García, Eric Bannister

[whatrureadin-blog]

In THE PERFECT WIFE (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book One), Criminal profiler-in-training Jessie Hunt is sure she's finally put the darkness of her childhood behind her. She and her husband, Kyle, just moved from a cramped downtown Los Angeles apartment into a Westport Beach mansion. Kyle's promotion has them swimming in money. And Jessie is on the verge of getting her Master's degree in forensic psychology, the last step in her dream of becoming a criminal profiler.

But soon after their arrival, Jessie begins to notice a series of strange developments. The neighbors—and their au pairs—all seem to be hiding secrets. The mysterious yacht club Kyle is desperate to join is rife with cheating spouses, and with troubling rules of its own. And the notorious serial killer being held at the psychiatric hospital where Jessie is completing her degree seems to know more about her life than is normal—or safe.

As her world starts to unravel, Jessie begins to question everything around her—including her own sanity. Has she truly uncovered a disturbing conspiracy buried within a sunny, wealthy Southern California beach town? Does the mass murderer she's studying really somehow know the origin of her private nightmares?

Or has her tortured past finally come back to claim her?

If you want to read it’s free on Apple book platform (i don’t know what it’s called. iBook maybe) or you can try on google store

For those who want the audiobook this is the audible link: https://amzn.to/3mNUiA3

If you don’t have an audible account yet try it for free here: https://amzn.to/388cy3a

[theblacktie]

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Fitness

Ramin Karimloo: The Broadway Actor Who Method-Acts in the Gym

BY JESSIE MOONEY

PHOTOGRAPHS BY TAWNI BANNISTER

http://www.gq.com/story/ramin-karimloo-the-broadway-actor-who-method-acts-in-the-gym