#and while i told my bosses months ago i would not return in august

[lazyspeedy]

what she said 🫡

[feuqueerfire]

Wandee Goodday Ep 1 - 5 Live Blogging

When I watched the GMMTV 2024 Part 1 announcements, I was still going through my show slump/apathy phase, so wasn't super hyped about this show. However, as time went on and my interest in series and BLs reignited, I started anticipating this more and now I can't wait to watch this show until it finishes airing because people have been liking it so much.

I've seen Great in Manner of Death and I watched NetJames' side story in Catch Me Baby, so I didn't actually see Great much for that. I know Inn was in Miracle of Teddy Bear but I didn't watch that.

I tried watching 23.5 while it was airing but was terrible at keeping up with it weekly, I ended up practically just doing 2 small binges. BUT it's fine if I can't keep up weekly with this because I'm in the middle of some other cool show when this releases or whatever, I'll just... catch up on 2-3 eps at once when I have the chance. It's fine. I'm just watching it because it seems fun and I wanna be in on the general conversation since everybody seems to be watching and enjoying this one. I hope it holds up until the end.

Fun to see this post on reddit r/GMMTV that highlighted how Great and Inn used to have shippers back in the day lmfao and now a decade later, a main lead in a BL. The post is literally from August 1, 2023, months before the Wandee trailer, I think Inn joined around that time (while Great joined earlier).

Also fun to see them talk about how they actually became a pair. Interesting to see that Great was promised Beauty Newbie (side) and Wandee Goodday (main) if he signed and was told Inn would be the partner if he signed; I wish Inn spoke a bit about what he was promised if he signed, was it just Wandee since he's not in any other 2024 series.

Long preamble because I'm stalling until it's 12am and the new month starts so that I can finally start this because I don't wanna start it in May lmfao, 10 more minutes. I'm browsing reddit wandee posts before release and they seriously posted some cute photos from when they were shooting.

Ep 1 (June 1)

1-1

ah, Wandee's character is the one who doesn't wanna kiss?

3 Days Ago

Wandee means good day

asexual Drake (Kao) yayyy

heroic Wandee

Are Yak and Cher the same age? With Oye being older than them?

oh, Yak and Oye are brothers fr?

aw, Yak secretly meeting a girl behind his brother's back but Cher knows, that's cute, I like their teasing dynamic that still has space for them to share stuff with each other

Dee is soooo in love with Dr. Ter lol, he's wide-eyed like this O.O

is ter purposefully torturing Dee lmao does he know about Dee's big big crush

8 years?! he's had this crush for that long?

Wandee's supposed to not be the original doctor but is being asked a favour

ah, their first meeting

Waited so long to watch it that I have to go to sleep but great start

1-2

antagonistic start

Yak is so rude, please

ah, fast beating heart

"I hope we don't have to see each other again, Dr. Wandee" well

scholarship to study abroad: Dee vs Ter

Wandee's so cute with this boss Doctor too lol

waittttt Yak's definitely several years younger than Wandee right? hehe. because Wandee's a full doctor and doesn't seem he's a new one either while Yak's in his final year (may have been taking longer than graduate than usual, so maybe older than 22 but not that much older?)

Taem being paid by Yak to do his homework lol

lol Taem rejecting Yak before he even finished asking. "I'm yet to finish my delivery to your doorstep. You returned it before it reached there."

Yak getting rejected and Wandee will be rejected

1-3

I will Need Kao to get a boyfriend by the end btw

8 years ago he was a freshman, so Wandee is ~26 years old? If Thai uni starting age is also ~18

please, not Wandee literally letting out an exhale-laugh and saying "I'll let you say it again" when Ter says he likes girls

ah, the Too Vanilla comment

and chasing after Dee to ask for the scholarship lmfao

wild Dee is so embarrassing at the club, idek how I'll make it through the convenience store scene (I'd seen clips/gifset of it before but I didn't have the knowledge of their antagonistic initial meeting back then)

a chance meeting and Dee following Yak

1-4

pleaseeeeee I can't loll

the condom is actually sending me, the audacity omg

the cashier being like oh condom only? lube is essential too

ah, drunk with the trash

Room 609 (Bedtime Story? Another P'Golf show)

ah, Yak's into it as soon as he steps through the door. Wandee's embarrassing display actually worked lmfao though I guess he was attracted to him before then too

it's like 2am

Yoryak means giant?! pls

loll The Eclipse cameo

so much talk about Yak's dick goddamn

the shaking causing "Ordinary days that will never be the same again" book to fall

this part had me pausing and holding my head so much ahhh

Inn as Wandee has such wide sparkly eyes, feels like glitter effects should be on screen sometimes when he blinks. Reminds me a bit of Triage's Tol played by Tee. Also JamFilm To Sir With Love/Laws of Attraction's Film kinda.

But also Wandee's so... him being pushy like why don't you like me >:( at Ter (though he dropped that quite quickly) and then just openly following around and harassing Yak was wild lol

Ep 2 (June 1/2)

I'm trying to only watch 1 ep a day so that I don't have to wait too long for ep 6 but I also just want to binge what's out, so we'll see how long I do 1-1.25 eps a day

2-1

oh, we're picking up right where we left on - in the middle of the sex on the couch with the Eclipse playing

Wandee's insecurities + being mad about being called vanilla lol

my Akk and Ayan witness to all this

"once is enough" they keep saying things like let's hope we never meet again and once is enough, like don't you two know you're main leads in a romance drama?

Dee not giving Yak his contact

Dee fr locked that man out

they're antagonistic again

I like established Yei and Cher

lol ofc Yak spending the night is apparently uncharacteristic for him

wtf did Ter try to speak on behalf of Dee to forfeit the scholarship? let's kill him

2-2

omg let's fucking kill Ter, him using Dee's feelings for him to be like give up the scholarship for me? please? and we can def talk about your feelings after I come back <3

lol Yak really waited and schemed until he got Dee as his doctor

ah, Yak saw the convo between Ter and Dee

ahhhh Yak redirecting from almost holding Dee's hand to pretend he was curious about the pen

plssss this cow costume for his school project video

oh yeah, Yak likes Taem

I like Taem

Yak thinking of vulnerable Dee even when he's with Taem

are these two people sinister? wait, are they gonna drug Dee?

agh, scary. Personally not a fan of attempted sexual assault/rape/noncon recording or whatever else being portrayed just so our ML can sweep in and be the hero because these are serious and scary things and make me feel other emotions than just <333 yay I'm glad our ML is here to help <333

2-3

Less Expectations More Satisfaction neon lights over the bed kills me every time

pls not the freaking sponge bath at 1:30am

Yak's like already so into Dee, whelp

cuddles

I kept noticing the clock; I don't think it should've been at 1:38 by the end, maybe 1:4_

SEVENTY PERCENT?! not on the written part but on the campaign for the department that'll be voted by other doctors/nurses/etc?

hehe the cafe and P'Golf as a server, is it the same cafe as The Eclipse? Does both The Eclipse and the cafe in it exist in Wandee Goodday lol

and even in the show the character is named Golf

ah, here's the grandma

damn, Dee's parents are dead?!

2-4

okay, I'm back in the morning after having slept

Does Yak still like Taem? does he just wanna hang out with her as a friend? Does he realize that he's falling for Dee? Is he just in the habit of asking Taem to things?

oh, he's wistful so I guess he does indeed still like Taem

Dee taking care of Yak kinda and wanting to know what's wrong

woah, Direct

[Linguistics] Yak refers to Dee as Maw/Khun Maw/Doctor and Dee refers to Yak as boxer guy but right now, he used 'Nai.' I think they also use Khun with each other

the FWB proposal and establishing rules

first kiss? oh, Dee

[Linguistics] oh, Yak doesn't like that Dee refers to him as with Nai 2nd person pronouns and wants him to use his name.

omg I am so shy when watching them but have so much fun. Yak being like i like you moaning :) let's have another round and Dee being like okay but this time you have to play with my dick longer like okay, let's go, talking about what we want

loll the costumes come about because of the concern about Yak getting into a scandal?

Kao and this security guard?

the A/C service one when Ter's also in the elevator is sooo good

[Linguistics] cleaning fridge = rimming euphimism in Thai, I've learned. how fun

oh my god i love how puppy Yak is when Dee's wiping his head

damn, the mood is so romantic. almost kiss from Yak and giving him the necklace and kissing his chest. different than the more fun/sexual-tension-filled vibes of their other scenes

When I binge, I like episodes to be 40-45 mins but when I watch weekly, I'm mad that it's not 55 mins at least lol

I wanna know how old Yak is because he referred to himself as a grandpa student.

Sometimes this BL touches on interesting topics and just the whole aspect of FWB-while-we-both-have-other-crushes to kind of get over their crush and battle their loneliness is engaging on its own. It feels somewhat mature in its discussion around sex and what they each like or want. Still, it also sometimes feels immature, like the spiking (+ planning to take noncon videos of him?!) that's only there so that Yak can rescue him (the topic itself is really dark but the way they deal with it feels so... handwavy) or the scholarship being 70% popularity contest.

I don't know, I hope the narrative is coherent throughout the whole 12 eps and I continue to like it. Unfortunately, I can't hope for "Less expectations, More satisfaction" because I'm only watching this on-air because I'm expecting to love it, so I hope I don't regret that. I'm having fun so far.

Also, I guess it was indeed AJ who was also in the Eclipse because this is so funny: "I also appreciate that P'Golf's determination to make AJPloy happen is so great that she turned one character into a girl and completely created another one out of thin air."

Their short Ep 2 reaction

Look how puppy

Ep 3 (June 2)

2nd episode of the already oof

3-1

oh yeaa, i saw the 69 gifs

such a cute su su na

Yakalso has deceased parents?

cheek sniff kiss

ahh the lack of vs the acquiring of the necklace being noticed. it's like they're leaving their marks on each other (though they told their friends/family that they're just FWBs)

omg Yak is a known generous person when dating

just realized Dr. Kwan is Emi

office gossip

voice message about missing Yak... video of him doing situps to Dee... girl.

why does Yak look so confused when confronted with his own video that he sent lmfao

Dee's apparent flaw... he loves to win

Dee likes to order Yak around lol being like say you miss me and also change my lightbulb

Dee's nodding when Yak's like let's see if this works is very cute, very puppy also

3-2

oof, they mentioned last ep 2 the costs of running this gym and now they're bringing up financial troubles again

ah, and Yei doesn't want to let on how much things aren't okay + doesn't want to borrow from Cher's (presumably rich) mother

Dee the fucking clown

oh noo this kid has cancer

is the not having enough skilled physicians gonna come back?

aw, video call

the nurses all being women and feminine gay men is interesting ig

anyway ig it's fine that they're also gossipy/mean(?) since there are several other non-villainous gay/queer people in the show, although none are quite as feminine as these 2. though there aren't many women, just Taem and possibly Kwan but they both have small parts

and this is how the fake boyfriend thing starts

3-3

Dee's thinking of getting Yak to be his pretend boyfriend but like, didn't Yak not wanna get caught?

[Linguistics] I have no idea if Yak's saying "then take back your paper kha" but I wish I knew if he was or if it's just part of the word

no fr how is Dee even asking this of Yak and it's not even a real relationship!! "Please come out for this fake boyfriend stint even though you're afraid it'll affect your career"

Dee is at the gym?! girl

Yei notices Yak's necklace

[Linguistics] Okay, Yak definitely used kha when he says Doctors are rich

Dee is a menace, let the man alone!

Cher calls Yei Phi, Dee Phi, but not Yak. so he's same age or older than Yak but younger than Dee, which confirms that Dee is older than Yak (in the novel Yak's apparently 20 while Dee's 29 but that's not happening here lol)

lol cute, Yak teaching Dee how to box. i wanna take up boxing too

3-4

the way Dee grabs Yak's hand to place it on his own thigh is so good somehow

man, Dee being sad is pitiful but like Yak was extremely clear that he won't do it and Dee's the one who's chasing him and keeps asking him

oh, we're suddenly getting Dee having flashbacks to his parents' death

sharing food <3

[Linguistics] Yak using Rao as 1st person pronoun with Dee

CCTV in his room where he fucks would be crazy lmfao

not the fireworks as Yak is sufficiently convinced to be fake boyfriends. i imagine something will go wrong for him down the line though, oof

bro why are they acting like taking up the scholarship competition is some sort of challenge against the senior specifically when they were both offered the chance to compete for the scholarship by higher-ups

why are they doing all these dramatics in front of patients waiting too, bruh

naurrrr not public flower bouquet gift to show people that Dee indeed has a bf T.T I don't wanna press play, I actually cannot with anything public esp when it's not fake and played up like this T.T

Yak is instantly recognizable to the patients, girl I hope this doesn't have a blowback on your boxing career, you know the traditional and masculine field which I expect has homophobic tendencies (and Yak knows it too). but also Yei has a legit boyfriend and mans was a world champion or something too, right? or are they a secret?

please, their acting

why are we doing PDA I'm skimming, finger on the forward button bc ahh embarassing

going from fake boyfriends in public to domestic FWBs cooking together in private lol alright

I kept wondering if the necklace was going to be given back when they weren't speaking and Yak was like this is over but that never happened. interesting ig

I muted the tag after episode 3, so eps 4-5 will mostly be new stuff for me, though I know some general stuff too

Ep 1: Yak saves a pathetic Dee from the trash cans. Ep 2: Yak saves a drugged Dee from those fuckers (I still don't like that they used this plot point). Ep 3: Yak saves Dee by agreeing to be his fake boyfriend after his genuine pathetic monologue about why he needs a bf and why it needs to be Yak.

I hope Dee also helps out Yak or initiates things, especially because I think the last thing he promised Yak was that the boyfriend thing won't get out of the hospital but uhh I don't think that's gonna be possible. Dee's insistence on the fake-BF thing as he ignores Yak's nos for most of the eps is blagh, but I guess it stems from his need to win. So we'll see whether he can ever "lose" to Yak or be there for Yak when he needs him or what.

Ep 4 (June 3)

55 minutes long, fun

4-1

they were pretty grown when Yak's mom died, I'd thought he'd be younger

Ter doesn't like to see Dee move on but is it for sinister reasons or for hidden feelings reasons

Dee and Yak running into Kwan dropping food off for Ter early in the morning. them living in the same condo allows for such shenanigans

[Linguistics] Dee using Ai'Yak

Ter room#: 666 lol and he's imagining the good times when Dee used give him food

eating tons of food in the show while Great was dieting/starving/dehydrated af while filming with all these shirtless scenes

Yak telling Dee about Taem, interesting. but does that mean he really wasn't jealous of Dee possibly still liking Ter? they're literally discussing Taem and Yak's crush on her now.

[Linguistics] ahhhh Dee said "You don't know how to flirt, do you? Do you want Phi to teach you?" and Yak defff uses kha with Dee sometimes, especially in a teasing moment

goddd they're practice-flirting

omgggg and Dee getting into the fake-confession as he thinks of his time with Yak

and Yak is OBSESSED with wanting to kiss Dee bruh

omg and now Dee's the one who's like fuckkkk as Yak's excited about asking out Taem

ah, Yak probably doesn't want to be a boxer and that might be why he's wanting to finish up his degree? but also mans does not do work for that degree, he pays Taem to do it lmfao

Cher being like well, idk if you still like Taem but Yak's like I'm not somebody who changes his mind easily. is that why he's still holding onto (past?) feelings for Taem even as he's falling for Dee?

plsss horny thoughts during situps

Yak is literally dizzy with horniness, that's so funny lmao

ohh Taem appears. and Yak's like :D while Dee's like :(

4-2

the music and mood change between Taem/Yak's convo vs Dee's angry boxing (but he can't even box properly so his hits are weak)

hints that Taem likes Ohm and Yak knows that Taem likes Ohm

oh nvm not even just hints lol he calls and then appears and they're coming and going together and Taem is eager in a way that she is not with Yak

i love her little 2-finger salute she does to say hi and bye

Taem also notices the Yoryak necklace lmfao everybody clocking them

"A jealous man has been sighted at the boxing club" Dee, girl... make that 2 men

Dee being speechless and uncomfortable knowing Yak's planning on hitting on Taem fr

plsss Yei and Cher spying on them in the hot spa or whatever

oh yeah, what does Kao work in again? I assumed something with sexual health because he talked about his patients sometimes going from ONS to FWB or whatever. i love you, our asexual sex and sexual health doctor

plsss her listing stuff out they've tried

her: "i tried everything, even if it's not me." him: "should i try having sex with somebody else?" i actually can't

Dee at least realizing he's getting jealous over Yak

I'm nervous that somebody at the hospital's gonna overhear their convo and know that it's a fake relationship

aksdjfl;kasdfj Kao smiling and wanting to strangle Dee when he says he promised Yak he'll help pursue his crush

ah, Kao telling Dee to hold off on his heart and not fall deeper or whatever and that def makes sense to not fall for your FWB/fake-bf who you're helping pursue his "real" crush but wrong advice for a romance drama lol

neither Yak nor Dee have armpit hair (from the sauna scene and swimming scene).

4-3

the thumbnail has them with faces really close but I don't think they've kissed actually

Yak almost kissing Dee once againnnnn girl

Ter saw them at the pool...

at least Ter has enough brains to realize it's fake lol

oh, apparently everybody at this hospital goes on break at the same time lmfao

Ter wanting Dee to wait and saying he was just confused before... stfu

glad that even though Dee kinda goes in a daze sometimes, he hasn't yet given in to Ter's manipulative tactics at all

physiotherapy lol

idek why they need to sleep in the same room or why they need to mention it in front of everybody instead of just Yei or Cher lol

oh, they're certainly orchestrating some IG stories lol it's clearly so planned bro, could've at least made it seem more casual by like having a sliver of Yak in the shot when pretending you're focused on some cool food or smth

Dee hanging out and having dinner with Yak, Yei and Cher

4-4

is him graduating Yak's mother's dream?

Dee tutoring Yak, somewhat of a parallel to Taem tutoring him

pls, even Kwan catching Ter looking at Dee's story lmfao anyway ig I feel bad for her if she likes Ter. I hope she gets over him quickly and finds somebody better

Yak boxing and Dee also cheering him on through the screen at work

and bragging about Yak to Kao lmfao

Kao being like girl... you two aren'ts fake boyfriends anymore, y'all like each other

Kao's Sleepless Sleepwear lmfaooo hey friend, can you try on these costumes for sex that I made and lmk how it goes?

Yak has a little bunny tail awww cute

Yak getting mad that Dee doesn't consider him a close friend cuteee

i love Dee sniff kissing Yak's cheek like Yak's always kissing Dee, so I like it the other way around too

okay, extra post-credit scene

omg talking about HPV vaccine and how just condoms can't prevent all STIs, we should be aiming for safer sex

Dee gets me when he calls Yak Big Doggie, I keep calling them both puppies

It's not just for Dee, it's for Yak too, we're all protecting ourselves

Yak apparently is recognized by everybody, including the nurse. and dee did say hundreds of thousands of people watch the matches live

Grandma coming over to visit next ep, heheheheheh

Ep 5 (June 3)

i'm so excited to see the grandma but not excited to be all caught up and have to wait weekly for 7 more weeks eughhhh

5-1

damn, Yak's also here with Dee to surprise the patient child? Isn't Yak himself Dee's patient too lol

they're quite familiar with each other, so I guess they've met the patient several times before

lol peeking at birthday. Also Yokyak knowing down to the minute how long they've been together... okay

P'Golf plsss "I watch [boxing] for the eye candy"

Dee being Baffled at P'Golf wanting him to take the photo of her and Yak lmfaooo it's like P'Golf has brought the two of you together and she can also tear you apart

since they've been together for 1 month (I'm assuming since the fake dating began? or around then), there are 3 months left of their deal?

I think straight up half of Kwan's lines are just saying Wandee and his bf are cute together

Kao conducting an Interview about his animal pyjamas for sex

he's giving them sex homework i'm crying

Dee loves to win and losing bothers Yak

damn, what's Yei thinking about at night? money problems?

it's strange to see them fighting and to see Yei be kind of apathetic since he's always all up on Cher

I like this because it's like even though Cher puts up a (typical in BLs) perfunctory fight and says to stop when Yei kisses up on him and hints at sex, it's not real protest because they're just playing lol and Cher's desire for Yei to initiate it when he hasn't for a few days shows that

aww Cher's 2nd time asking if Yei has somebody else or is bored of him already :( the second question seriously reminds me of LITA Sky to Prapai

they're so cuteee Yei being like how many nights do I owe you

they're wearing fucking bunny and tiger ears after presumably having sex looking at outfits for Yak that will impress Taem

Yak boutta change himself for Taem (and she still will continue to like Ohm) while Dee likes him just the way he is

grandma is so fun hehe

AND THE EARS ARE STILL ON

"keep pulling the pants up" plssss

5-2

a dick plush pillow pls

bro i'm so confused with the use of the word faen, like I thought it included Exclusivity? but the way Dee talks about Yak having a faen during that breakfast convo before finding out about Taem or here when he tells his grandmother than Yak has a faen, it doesn't seem to imply that Yak's literally cheating on his faen but nor does he mention any polyam situation or anything. why doesn't he say crush instead of faen?

Dee being like I shouldn't develop any deep feelings for him but they getting up to watch Yak sleep and crosses the invisible line...

aw, they've gotten used to cuddling

cuddling in couch and bringing up Taem, it's almost like Yak brings Taem up whenever he feels like he's liking Dee too muchor something

don't give your grandma the bunny ears you wore for sex!!

introducing your fake boyfriend to your parents when you take him to their graves while he wants to be introduced just as regular real boyfriend

5-3

ah, Yak's already implementing the outfit changes. that's legit what Ohm was wearing lmfao

not Cher following Yei

aghhh I know we're not getting answers for that this episode though because I saw somebody guessing what Yei's hiding, meaning we don't find out. and i'm not gonna just have the next episode available alksdjfkladsf >:((

gathering votes

5-4

legit laughed at the huge ass banana right after them eating the hotdog sausage thing

pls i get so embarassed/shy watching this show

they're baking together, how cute

got stressed thinking about cleaning all this flour everywhere

oof, Ter taking Kwan to the restaurant Dee took him to... He's just using Kwan right? They don't want us to like Ter right?

fitting lyrics... it's an OST right?

Yak wants to kiss on the lips and Dee's ready for it too

Yak's been taking videos of grandma and Dee and now even posting a Gooddy photo on his IG

sudden position argument WandeeYoryak vs YoryakWandee like it's a funny moment but girl y'all are already fucking, how is it a question? you know the answer

Very fun so far, I'm really enjoying it. I do wish these Thai BLs were like the het dramas that release 2x a week so that I don't have to rely on getting less than one hour a week for 2 more months.

I'm curious about their first kiss, what the Yei secret is, how they'll deal with their growing feelings, and I really hope it's all explored well and coherently pleaseeee. I can't watch a show as it airs, wait for many weeks to get to the end and have it be bad, I'll lose my shit. Wandee Goodday, I believe in you!

[softlenaluthor]

Would somebody be available to offer some advice?

(Long story short: I got fired bc of mental health costs, my boss didn’t follow procedure during my reintegration so that could be a problem for him, and now he might be asking me if I want to come back)

In August, I called in sick for work due to stress caused by the workload, and I worried I was going to get burned out. I’ve requested to speak with the company doctor, but after our initial conversation I’ve had to wait seven weeks for a follow up meeting. In the meantime, I returned to work with less hours, verbally agreeing to do so with my employer. In the Netherlands, this is supposed to be done in collaboration with the company doctor to monitor the progress.

Three weeks ago, my boss informed me that I had to think about what I wanted to do in the future as my contract would expire by December 31.

Two weeks ago, we followed up on that conversation. I felt better and insinuated that I was interested in getting back to work fulltime. He informed me that the decision has been made that my contract would not be extended due to the risk of my mental state potentially causing another sick leave next year. It would cost the company a lot of money. I was told that I could stay home immediately and was not required to come in at all. My vacation hours (which I have never taken) would be used for my last two months of pay. My accounts were scrubbed that same day, and he sent out an internal message to colleagues that I would not be coming back to work. I was “allowed” to speak to the company doctor, since I had that appointment planned anyway.

Considering the fact so much has changed since the beginning of September, I informed the company doctor that I was basically back to work for three scheduled hours, while I more often than not worked my full contract hours. I also took on nearly all the same responsibilities during that time. It was only the first two weeks that I didn’t take on much work and tried to focus on my health. After those two weeks I felt guilty and started taking things on again. I also mentioned that my missing hours were paid with my holiday hours.

That is not how re-integration works in the Netherlands. They have to pay me sick pay instead of using my vacation hours, and my reintegration has to be documented. The company doctor advised that she needs to sit down with me and my employer to have a chat about it.

Thing is, I was never a bad employee. I took on too much work and nobody stopped me, and I got burned out. The way they tried to erase me does not sit right with me. I told the doc I’m not interested in seeing him again, nor do I feel comfortable just going back to work. But I do have a responsibility to actively work on my reintegration, so I will do it. It’ll likely be 2x a week 3 hours only.

You’ll be inclined to think, but why? If your contract expires in December anyway?

We’re gonna sit down and talk about it on Thursday. My employer called me this morning though, asking about what I said to the company doctor. I didn’t tell him what I said, he doesn’t have a right to know. I just told him that the doc advised I need to sit with him and talk about it. My employer asked me what I wanted. If I still want to work for the company. He told me that he can’t have me sitting at home unless I’m using my holiday hours for it. Do I want to come back? “Not really,” I thought to myself, “not after how you treated me for having a mental illness.” Of course I didn’t say that out loud, because everybody needs work.

What would you say in this situation?

I don’t want to lie and say that I want to come back, but I do need a job. But do I want it there? He’s lost a lot of credit for how I was shoved aside after I worked tirelessly for this company. (It was my stupid mistake, I understand, to work so many extra, unpaid hours. Sometimes I’d come home at midnight.) In the Netherlands, if you’re not responsible for your firing you’re entitled to transition pay in most cases. I need to be careful how I thread in order to soften the financial blow that might be awaiting me.

[biscuit-buddy]

kuzumochi. (18+)

Endeavor x Reader (Smut, Birthday Fic, 3.1k)

A/N: holy shit guys this got so much longer than expected i’m sorry if it drags at all i just had so much i wanted to get out! Also its 11:22pm so its technically still his birthday. ha. 

What do you get for the man who could already have whatever he wanted at the snap of his fingers? Being the number one pro hero meant that Enji already received truckloads of expensive things, tickets to exclusive events, and the newest technologies simply because of his status. You knew this because everything he received went through you after being thoroughly checked at security. Eight months as his personal secretary offered you a glimpse into his extravagant world and honestly left you with a small bite of bitter jealousy. Some of the things that passed over your desk could pay the rent in your measly apartment for the next year, and you were sure he never gave most of it more than a second glance. 

Your pen tapped lightly against your bottom lip as you stared at the pad of sticky notes on your desk, nothing more than illegible lines, dots, and scribbles covered the top one. With a sigh of frustration, you detach it from the stack, crumple it and toss it in the trash. Today was the first day of August, and the mental countdown to your boss’ birthday plagued your thoughts. While your job was comfortable as is, the cold treatment from the man you worked for grated on your every nerve. You’d think after nearly a year in his employment he’d begin to warm up to you, maybe even bother to remember your name. This was your chance to finally stand out to him if only you could think of something that the hero could possibly want for his birthday. 

As much as he’d probably like a break or a vacation, you were in no position to provide that for him. He obviously didn’t want for anything material either. Does he even have a sweet tooth? You wondered silently as the tapping of your pen resumed against your face. I can’t even imagine a guy like him eating a cupcake. You know what? Actually I can and it’s hilarious. I bet his mustache would burn the frosting and-

“Ahem” Well, speak - or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Endeavor himself stood at your desk with an impatient look on his stern face. The goofy smile you’d been developing at the thought of the massive man eating sweets was quickly wiped off and your back straightened at an uncomfortable pace. 

“Daydreaming on the job?” he asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t really want an answer, so you just bow your head in apology. In an embarrassed mumble, you replied, “Sorry sir, won’t happen again” and he gave a huff in response, not unlike that of a great dragon. You held back another smile at the fleeting thought of smoke puffing out of his nose in discontent, as he handed you a manila envelope stuffed to the brim with some kind of paperwork. 

“I need this hand-delivered to the Hawks Hero Office immediately. This is sensitive information I’m trusting you with.” You gingerly accepted the packet, but couldn’t avoid the brief touch of his massive hand sliding past yours. You noted briefly just how warm they were, though you shouldn’t really be surprised. Courier work isn’t exactly in your job description but lately, you’ve been desperate to suck up anyways, plus some fresh air couldn’t hurt. You stood and gave one more quick bow, “of course sir, I’d be happy to deliver it” He seemed content with your answer and turned to walk through the frosted glass double doors that led into his office without so much as another word. 

Honestly, that had gone better than most of your interactions in the past. Pleased with the slight development in your relationship you gatherers your purse and the envelope and headed for the elevator. Floors passed monotonously as you continued to float gift ideas around in your head, this was looking to be harder than you initially thought. 

Once the lift reached the lobby you made your exit, pushing past a crowd of workers who seemed to just be returning from lunch. They laughed boisterously and made no notice of you squeezing around them. Finally, you made it to the front door of the Endeavor Agency and swiped your employee ID  badge on the terminal next to the front door alerting the system that you had left the building. Fresh warm air tickled your skin as you made your way onto the sidewalk and began the trek to Hawks’ Agency. It wasn’t particularly far, only a few blocks away and the route was dotted with storefronts boasting all kinds of wares from cake to clothes to flowers.

In theory, one of the displays you passed should have given you an idea but once more you found yourself coming up blank as you approached your destination. The young man at the front desk smiled politely when you entered  “Hi there, do you have an appointment?” his eyes flickered between you and the computer screen in front of him. 

“Actually I’m here on delivery for Endeavor” you waved the yellow folder a bit to accentuate your statement “something about sensitive information?” This really wasn’t part of the job you signed up for. Face to face interactions with strangers is so damn awkward. Luckily the receptionist probably dealt with people like you all day and didn’t bat an eye before saying

“Of course, his office is on floor 22 but if he’s not in there, try the roof. I’ll let security know you’re heading up” and he began tapping at the keyboard with one hand while making a ‘go on’ gesture toward the elevator with the other. You thought about boarding but instead made your way to the staircase. I already walked this far, might as well make it a cardio day, and give myself a good excuse to order takeout for dinner. You were truly a genius, maybe it was time to apply at NASA instead of working your ass off for Mr. Hothead. 

Twenty-two floors was a bit more of a workout than you thought it would be, and when you finally arrived at the top you were mildly sweaty cheeks ruddy and more out of breath than you’d like to admit so you take a moment to calm down before opening the doors and walking past the security guard. He gave you a sideways glance but kept his mouth shut as you knocked twice on the office doors. 

The lack of a verbal response clued you into the fact that he was likely on the roof just as the receptionist had said, so you hung a left and let yourself sprint up one more flight of stairs. Once you made it through the door marked ‘rooftop’ you spotted the winged hero perched near the railing. You announced yourself so as not to startle him,

“Excuse me, Mr. Hawks? I’m here on behalf of Endeavor, he asked me to deliver this to you as soon as possible”

He wheeled around at the sound of your voice, and his eyes lit up with amusement at your disheveled appearance. “Hey, thanks! I was kind of expecting the big man himself but you’re certainly a nice surprise” he winked and took the folder from your hands “Nobody told me Endeavor hired such a cutie to be his secretary, ya think I have any chance of poaching you from him?” Despite your earlier thoughts about NASA, you had no intention of leaving your current position so you just laughed. 

“I’m flattered but unfortunately I’ve got some oddly placed sense of loyalty for him” 

“Oh I get it” he cocked an eyebrow “I would too if I was you, the guy’s a size queen’s dream after all. Gotta love the whole naughty secretary dynamic too”

You sputtered at his bluntness “Oh god no nothing like that I-”

“Aw, I’m just teasing kid, how couldn’t I when you come up here looking like that” He gestured to your flustered appearance and you immediately regretting taking the stairs moments ago “Besides, I’d be surprised if you got him to warm up to you enough to remember your name let alone bend you over his desk” He was spot on, you had to sigh at that. 

“You’re right there, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice if there was an entirely different person sitting at my desk tomorrow” 

“Heh, yeah, sounds like him. But you know, his birthday is coming up maybe a gift will put you in his good graces” another effortless wink was shot your way and despite him being the one with wings, the attention really ruffled your feathers. It’s like he had a secret mind-reading quirk or something. 

“I thought of that, but I have no clue what a guy like him would even want. It’s not like shopping for your mom, where you can just give her a picture frame that says ‘Live Laugh Love’ and she cherishes it forever ya know?” Hawks snorts in amusement at your comparison. You’re right and you’ll defend that if he asks, but he doesn’t. 

“In that case, I’d be willing to let you in on a little secret, some little known Endeavor lore, a true exclusive if you ask me”

“I’m not a tabloid Hawks, just tell me already” this guy messes around a lot for being the number two hero, its an incredibly stark contrast from his only superior.

“Okay, okay, you gotta lean in though, he’d kill me if I leaked something so personal” you lean in closer as instructed and he whispers into your ear, “his favorite food... is kuzumochi” You pull back in visible disappointment. 

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, he goes crazy for the stuff. Honest to god I’ve seen him inhale an entire batch in like five minutes. You want him to notice you? Then this is the best possible way, trust me.” and for some crazy reason you do. This could actually work, if it’s really as much of a secret as the blonde claims, you’d certainly stand out among the other gifts he’s sure to get. 

You thank Hawks and turn to leave with a newfound confidence in this new plan, but not before he makes you promise to tell him how it goes after the big day. As you exit the winged hero’s agency building the work phone you were assigned chimes with a new email letting you know that you can go straight home after the drop-off, and your grin widens. Even better, now you have time to stop at the grocery store on the way home, the decision already made to go big or go home. You were bound and determined to make the kuzumochi from scratch, and it was gonna be the best damn thing your boss had ever tasted. 

*******************************

The rest of the week dragged on in a painfully average way, the only thing keeping your mood afloat was the surprise dish you had been working on every night. You’d gone through multiple test batches, determined to get the flavor and consistency just right. The work paid off on the night of the 7th, just in time when you completed your best batch yet. With a content sigh, you washed your hands and packaged up the kuzumochi like a damn professional. Finally, you were able to take a long hot shower and climb into bed early with the anticipation of tomorrow bubbling in your chest.

Morning came quickly and your daily routine was done with care, then you grabbed the gift and began the short commute to work. Brain on autopilot, it seemed like no time at all until you were seated at your desk and logging in to the company’s computer system. The pristinely packaged gift was nestled into the corner of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment. 

This moment came just before lunch when a mildly scuffed up Endeavor breezed past you in a huff and headed straight into his office. This is it you thought Sure, he’s a little pissy at the moment but this’ll cheer him right up. And with that, you knocked once on the office door and peeked in. The sight of him slumped in the leather office chair in front of the massive floor to ceiling window, eyebrow cocked at your intrusion made your heart jump just a little. How can one man be so damn intimidating? You cleared your throat and began to speak with entirely false confidence.

“Sorry for barging in sir, I just wanted to give you a birthday gift. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll accept it” the whole situation reminded you of confessing to your crush with a box of chocolates in middle school, and it’s funny how some things never truly change. You presented the box to him and to your surprise he actually reached out to take it. 

His scrutinizing glare never let up as he untied the silky ribbon and lifted the lid, but once he recognized the contents his expression shifted quickly to one of surprise. 

“Is this... kuzumochi?” His gaze fell on you and it had nearly physical weight.

“Yes sir, I have it on uhm, good authority that it’s one of your favorites” should you admit that Hawks told you this bit of information? 

“Why?” 

“I’m sorry? Its… well, it’s your birthday, right? I wanted to get you something that would stand out.” It felt silly to admit to his face. 

“And why would you need to stand out, Y/N?” You had to keep your jaw from hitting the floor when he so casually dropped your name, the name you were sure he hadn’t even known. He decided to let you mull over the question as he took a bite of your carefully crafted treat, you could hear a small satisfied hum in his throat and it gave you chills. He beckoned you closer, “it’s delicious, would you like a taste?” when you hesitated he added, “it would be awfully rude to refuse your boss on his birthday, especially after all the trouble you’ve gone to making these”

A heavy step carries you over to his desk, like lead weights attached to your ankles. As you approach he rises out of the chair, a new unreadable look replaced the one of irritation you had been so used to all these months. “Come closer,” he said when you stopped just short of the desk. He’d never spoken to you like this before, and it sent chills down your spine. A few more steps took you around the desk to where he stood, and you barely flinched when he placed a large palm on the side of your jaw, the other held a piece of kuzumochi near your mouth. His intent was clear, he was going to feed it to you by hand. “Open” he commanded softly and you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to, so you complied.

The sweetness melted over your tongue, you truly had outdone yourself here. And once the piece was securely in your mouth, a warm thumb brushed over your bottom lip where his eyes also happened to be resting, completely content in watching you chew and swallow. The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on you. You recalled something that Hawks had said about a ‘sexy secretary dynamic’ and once again he was right. When the taste had completely faded from your senses, you looked up to finally meet your boss’ eye. The intensity in them shook you to your very core.

“I’ll ask you again, why do you think you need to stand out?” at this, his hand dropped from your lip down to your waist “Were you hoping for some kind of special attention?” the depth of his voice made your thighs clench, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. He noticed the action and quirked his lips into the faintest smile, one full of mischievous intent. One large step forward for him pushed you back onto the sturdy wooden desk. “I can’t possibly disappoint my favorite little employee then, can I?”

You barely had time to brace your arms behind you before his hand moved over again to res on the top of your thigh, and the one that remained on your jaw guided you into a kiss. It began soft, Endeavor was no fool. He tested the waters, your willingness, before jumping right in. The second you started to kiss back it was full speed ahead. The man was experienced for sure, he knew exactly how to coax your mouth into a dance with his own. Once his tongue pushed into your mouth it was all over for you, you’ve become a slave to the feeling.

All too quickly he broke the kiss, and you had half a mind to whine at the loss of contact. When you opened your eyes you noticed he was leaned over towards the box of kuzumochi that started everything. Odd time for a snack but okay. And when he returned to face you he did have another piece in his mouth, as well as the red ribbon you used to tie it in his hands. Your mouths met once again, this time he pushed the food into yours with his tongue. While you’re distracted with the odd sensation of kissing and eating at the same time you hardly notice the way he pushed both your arms up above your head and deftly tied your wrists together with the ribbon. When he was sure they were secure he let them drop and find a home around the back of his neck.   

You swallow the kuzumochi just as he turns up the intensity, completely claiming your mouth with his own. This time, he pushes you even further back until you’re laid completely flat on the desk. His fingers rake up and down your sides while his hips press against yours. You can feel his growing excitement pushed up against you and the feeling has you nearly moaning. Nearly isn’t good enough got the number one though, and he starts trailing kisses down your jaw and further until he reaches the junction of your neck where he bites and sucks like his life depends on it. This finally brings forth the noise he was chasing, and when you go to cover your mouth from embarrassment is when you finally realize that your wrists are bound. 

Your boss’ attention is directed elsewhere though, as he reaches a hand under your skirt, past you panties, and begins to stroke your folds. You both realized how wet you’ve become at the same time, and now it’s his turn to moan. One large digit enters you as his mouth travels further south, now nipping at your collarbones and chest. Your wrists slip from around his neck and his free hand strokes upwards from your side to push your arms up over your head. Completely exposed to him he continues to ravish your skin and curl his finger in and out of your cunt. Quickly you come undone around his finger and he removes his mouth from you long enough to drag the digit along his own tongue. 

“You’re even sweeter than the kuzumochi, here” he pushes the finger into your mouth and you diligently suck the rest of your juices from it. “Good girl.” The praise itself makes you moan once again. When he’s satisfied with your work he begins to remove his pants and you finally get a glimpse of what you’re working with. You nearly get up and walk out right then, because the man is massive.

“Just relax, I’ll start slow” he reassures and stays true to his word. After a long moment of adjusting he’s fully sheathed inside you and you swear this is what heaven feels like. The moment he begins to move you know you were wrong. If that was heaven you must have finally ascended even further, to wherever gods go when they die. Endeavor fucks you hard and slow against his desk until your eyes are rolling back in your head and you can see every constellation on your eyelids. And when it’s over, you’re shaking like a leaf.

He pulls out, not giving a second glance to the fluids leaking out of you and onto the floor, and begins to untie your wrists. Both of them are red and raw from the friction of the ribbon, and he places a tender kiss on each of the marks. One more kiss on the bruised patch he left on your neck, then he’s hoisting you upwards in a sitting position. Still unsteady but slowly coming back down to earth, you feel a soft tissue wipe at the mess between your legs while a strong hand continues to keep you upright rests at your side. 

When you look up to meet his gaze, your confidence is no longer an act. “Happy birthday,” you say and for once he breaks out a genuine smile that makes him look ten years younger.

As he rests his forehead against yours he replies, “It’s not over yet” but before you can question his meaning the intercom system next to his computer rings and a voice announces “Mr. Hawks is on his way up, sir” and you choke. You did promise you’d tell him how things went. 

[transgamerthoughts]

What I Found In The Leaves

Last August, as the lease to my apartment was about to end, the roof began to smolder until the place I lived was full of smoke. When all was settled and done, my apartment had no roof. My room was spared and most of my things were okay—this part of the story being set in late capitalism, I am required to assure you that the things I purchased were okay too—and I decided to leave New York City to return to New England with my family. One of the first things I did when I arrived was look at the sky and imagine I was up there. Falling or sailing or flying. It didn’t really matter. I wanted to touch a cloud, to feel the whipping wind.

I promise… this is leading to something. In the months since, in spite of comfort and proximity to my family… in spite of the arrival of my nephew into this world—a child I would climb a mountain and punch God for if I needed to—and in spite of a happy job… I have spiraled into depression. My solution was work and writing. To throw myself into my job and to, somewhat foolishly, take on the task of novelizing my favorite game: Skies of Arcadia. Because if you’ve read my work long enough, it always comes back to Arcadia. I am proud of that project but it sparked a yearning in me. To truly connect to the world I was writing. It lit a fire. Before we proceed, let me be clear that by depression I don’t mean the woes of pandemic living or some disaffection with the reality of entering my 30s. I mean a deep and painful darkness with all the implications therein. Regardless to say, my efforts to combat it drained me. To the point that I burnt myself out and with some prodding from my boss, took a vacation. Which I am currently on. This is not the first time this series of events has played out. I made a promise to myself when I started vacation: no writing. I am breaking it because I have found, yet again, a moment where I must desperately drain the wonder in my heart and attempt to explain to you that I think there are magical things in the world, and that I believe there is some type of magic in art—in that strange alchemic or shamanistic way—that transfers to us. This will be my second attempt to explain it, and to explain what it has to do with video games. (Forgive the indulgence of this introduction by the way; an editor would surely have cut it all but I need you to understand two things: I am in pain and there's a part of that pain which I think points to something important.) This is a story of ritual and tea. Of how my senses and imagination came together to send me on a journey around a fictional world, in search of heroes who both do and do not exist. As part of my love for Skies of Arcadia, I’ve become something of a paraphernalia collector. I bought an old light novel from ebay, I used my rudimentary Japanese skills to set up a warehouse dropbox so that two fan magazines could be sent there and then subsequently shipped to America, and I have drank tea based off the game. At the time, I wanted to collect the little tins the tea came in; they seemed excellent collector’s items. What I found with my first round of tea was art unto itself; balances of flavor and spice and blends that symbolized characters and connected me to them. These were crafted by a dedicated fan and fellow writer. I don’t have the time to sit and research all the ways in which tea is used in ritual. Because I am tired and older and depressed and writing a blog post that perhaps thirty people will read. Regardless, to my delight I found that the tea-maker had created blends based off the various moons that dot Arcadia’s skies. For those who do not know the game, which I assume is many of you: each nation of the world rests under a magical moon. There are six, with one—a Black Moon—theorized to have gone missing. Here was my opportunity for a journey.

I bought teas based on each moon, and one based on the world itself. I will post a separate collection of all my individual tastings and reviews later. The important thing is this: I had been given an amazing gift. With these teas, I had something of that digital world which was actual. When we play games, we hear them and see them. Perhaps with certain haptics we can feel them. But we do not smell them or taste them or literally consume them. Eight teas, eight chances to smell and taste that wonderful world. To touch the clouds. Quem quaeritis? This is a famous question asked by an angel to the three Marys visiting Christ's tomb: his mother the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, who is the sister of Lazarus—the man Christ brought back to life after his death. It means: “whom to do you seek?” I was journeying, one tea cup at a time, around Arcadia. From continent to continent, I tasted their spices and experienced hints of their values, their cultures as expressed through the tea. The question played in my mind: Quem quaeritis? Whom was I seeking? The answer is complicated. First, I was seeking something of myself. The part of me that understood magic and wonder. The part of me that believes in the soul and believes that art, in allowing the complex interaction of creators and characters with players, performs some type of soul-magic. It impresses upon us, real and actual changes. I was seeking that piece of me; that part of me that understood that each cup was a ritual that brought about a communion with a distant world. I was searching for the younger part of me that believed in wonderful things. 

I drank the teas in the order our heroes travel the world, and in doing so I was performing a sort of perseveration of their journey. I communed with some place distant and followed in their footsteps. Which answers another half of the question. Whom did I seek? I sought my heroes. I sought the adventurous Vyse and his dogged determinism, I sought the firecracker Aika and her swift rushes to action, and I sought Fina. The woman I wish I could be: feminine, slight, beautiful, kind, brave. Quem quaeritis? All of this sounds like nonsense and when I try to explain the nonsense, I feel a deep embarrassment. To care in the 21th century, particularly in America, is to be weak. To be publicly vulnerable is to make yourself a target. You must be hard and solid as a rock. You cannot believe in magic or else you are doomed. But here I was, chasing myself and my heroes one cup at a time. And I need you to know that it hurt to do that. 

I went to the corner store today to buy some energy drinks. When I got back home, my father asked: “did you find what you were looking for?” I told him “That’s a very complicated question.”

Let me explain. Let me do the thing that I feel I cannot do well anymore; let me do some game criticism. In the world of games, the entities we control exist as two things. They are actors; manipulatable bodies, guided by code and controller inputs, that we guide around as we see fit. In this way, players have extraordinary power. In some ways, it is a… fraught power. We can, as Soulja Boy did, leave Braid’s protagonist in a perpetual flux state: jumping and rewinding. Back and forth, forth and back. Eternal puppets for our amusement, avatars for our power fantasies. Sometimes, as in the case of a game like Skyrim, our controllable actors are little more than flesh suits But actors are, more than anything, just… avatars. Video game actors are also characters. Within their worlds, which are fictional, they have motivations and wants and desires and dreams. They want to live and grow and succeed. Cloud Strife wants to defeat Sephiroth and uncover the truth about himself, Joel wants to protect Ellie and survive in a cruel world. Arthur Morgan wants to find a calmer life and redemption for his sins. They are, as characters, people. But since they are also actors, we can deny them their hopes and dreams whenever we want. We can have Cloud while away his days gambling at the Gold Saucer and, if we want, we can force Arthur Morgan to murder to population of an entire town. The core truth of a player's relationship to the character is this: we decide if their dreams are fulfilled. I find that troubling and I will try to explain why. But first let’s be clear: I do not think the character in games are sentient entities. I outlined this relationship of players and characters in a GDC talk a few years ago, using highly rhetorical terms and my reward was the ridicule of countless gamers who questioned my sanity. Some made videos about my presentation. It was hell. To be a woman, perhaps especially a progressively minded trans-woman, in games is to know a very real hell. To this day, I cannot go a week without some type of horrid experience on the internet. Some judgment of my worth, some assumption about my competency, or in the worst cases some proclamation about my right to live. No doubt this is part of why I needed my vacation. But here is why I find the player/character/actor relationship troubling. It is not merely the abstract notion, the thought experiment that elicits fun but meaningless philosophical natter. The reason I find that relationship troubling or at least complicated is because for all of their fiction, the characters in games can give us real things. They can, through some type of power—a deep power found in the act of story-telling itself—impart aspects of themselves on us. For instance, they can teach us lessons which we then carry into the rest of our lives. My father, for reasons I can’t recall, once told me: “the meaning of life is to serve others.” Though he does not know it, that truism has been etched into my soul. It is a “thing” that my father has given me. But my father is not the only person who has etched something into my soul. Vyse, that dashing pirate, has etched many things into my soul. For instance: “impossible is just a word people use to make themselves feel better when they quit.” That is etched on my soul too. Just as much as anything my father has taught. So we come to the heart of it: what does it mean that Vyse can so alter my being and values, and that he can do it with the same strength and “realness” of my father? What does it mean for a character, who is also often an actor that I guide, to give me such a powerful gift? Because let us be clear: values are “real” things. When I tried to explain that I believe that certain things are actually true, for instance that looking at landscapes does mean that we are looking at something real…. I spent an afternoon with former Jeopardy! contestant Arthur Chu and a cohort of Twitteristas attacking my philosophical surety. So, again, fuck the internet… I digress.. Let’s explore: I believe in the realness of things because of the depth of the emotions those things make me feel, and I refuse to believe that life is just endorphins, hormones, and instinct. That music or games or anything else can make us weep for joy is proof-positive to me of the existence of a soul; of an ineffable thing that is “us.” Not necessarily all enduring but certainly extant. And if this thing exists, it can be acted upon. I know this because my father, with his truism, changed my soul. Changed the core of me. I know this because Vyse and the others did so as well.

I’ve written that games criticism is a kindness; that it seeks the good in art and attacks the banal explicitly because art is beautiful. I write today to suggest this: art is magical. It alters us, not metaphorically, but in the ways it can affect our souls. Which brings us back to character and actors. I control Vyse since he is an actor and I am a player; but he is a character with dreams and hopes and personality. And values. Wonderful values which he shared with me. So what does it mean now that I can send actors to their doom? What does it mean that I can control them utterly when I know for a fact that they can affect and change me? I do not have clean answers for this. Perhaps there are none. Perhaps all I have written is silliness, even as I beg you to please understand. Please. 

Understand the power of stories, understand it in the way that Tolkein did when he said: “Creative fantasy, because it is mainly trying to do something else �� may open your hoard and let all the locked things fly away like cage-birds.” Understand that I am telling you that the locked thing is your heart and soul, and that just as a lover or parent or mentor can open that thing… so can the people we meet in our fictional journeys. Vyse is not just the captain of a ship. He is my captain. That means something. Art is ritual and play is ritual. In creation, we place something of ourselves in another thing. In play, we allow ourselves to be transmuted and changed. This is magic, of a sort. I am left wanting however. I followed the path of my heroes in as literal a way as I could, pulling on new senses to understand the world they live in and touch their skies for a fleeting moment. But I cannot reach them; I am Tantalus in the mire. Ever reaching, ever chasing. For that moment I can be the person that my heroes trusted me to become. Note by musical note, word for written word, tea cup by tea cup, I am chasing my captain. When I went back to my apartment the day after the fire, I looked up at the spot where the roof used to be. All I could see was blue sky and I thought I might fall into it. Perhaps in superficial ways I have shared something with my heroes; I have tasted something they have, even though the tea is not actually from Arcadia. It was merely a conduit to my imagination, to the transformed parts of my souls. Yet, I did not find him and I could not find myself. Which is why it hurts, in spite of how wonderful it was. Quem quaeritis? He is not here. So I will keep sailing after him.

[fleckcmscott]

Bewitching Hour

Summary: October has been a blissfully busy month. With Halloween around the corner, Arthur and Y/N have some planning to do.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,665

A/N: Special thanks to @hhandley80​ for this request! You've been so supportive and sweet. I truly appreciate you and hope you enjoy it!

On a side note, my oneshots will be more sporadic. I'm still writing but life has been life. Also, I've finished the first draft of another multi-chapter featuring Arthur and Y/N. It's going to take time to rewrite the subsequent drafts and edit, edit, edit. The chapters will go up once the story is ready. Thanks for your patience and support! 🙂 I heart you all!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! 

Arthur's suggestion that they make plans to celebrate Halloween should not have been a surprise. He loved starting traditions with Y/N, and she prized adopting them with him. "It's been awhile," he'd said as they'd walked arm-in-arm to the laundromat. "I think it'd be nice."

Holidays had been a source of merriment most of her life. The beauty of red and green decorations at Christmas. Turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. An egg hunt and chocolate rabbit at Easter. The togetherness of family during them all.

Halloween, though, wasn't a favorite.

As a child, she'd had fun trick-or-treating, riding her bike from house to far-flung house. And she hadn't minded escorting her little sister as a teenager. Y/N's homemade witch costume had been passed down. She could still recall the sleekness of the ribbon between her fingers as she'd secured the pointed hat under Mabel's chin.

But the magic had fallen away. When married to Jeff, she'd had to attend his boss's annual party. After receiving an apologetic shrug and kiss, she'd be relegated to hanging out with the other wives. They'd included her in their recipe swaps, in their exchanges of mild gossip. Her natural friendliness made chit-chat easy, far easier than having a good time. Those evenings had been spent nursing a glass of wine and willing the clock to go faster.

During the period she'd cared for her father, she'd tried to hand out candy. She liked being a good neighbor and imparting kindness in the form of bite-sized sweets. As his health had declined, the porch light had gone dark. Random rings of the doorbell would result in shouting and swearing. Repeated attempts to explain the door's lock wasn't broken. Festivity would transform into drudgery. It hadn't been worth the trouble. Instead, she'd watched terrible TV specials while her thoughts wandered to a future far from Boonville. A future she'd doubted would ever be.

"I don't know if it's your thing," Arthur had continued, bringing her back to the present. "But you might enjoy it with me." The response he longed for was evident in the worrying of his pocket, outlines of his knuckles visible through the tan cloth.

Everything they'd experienced together had soothed the sting of those wasted years. The hesitancy lurking in her was silly. Unwelcome. Less than either of them deserved. She'd met his keen eyes and half-smile. The sudden mental image of him dressed as a cowboy or pirate, eyepatch and all, prompted a laugh. Convinced her as she dug out her dry-cleaning stub. "It isn't my thing," she'd said. "But you are."

Relief had relaxed his wrinkles, save for his crows feet, which had deepened as he'd returned her happy expression. A slender arm wrapped around her waist, drew her against his solid frame. Once the clerk disappeared through the swinging doors to retrieve their clothes, Arthur grasped her chin and kissed her. The tender explorations were soon sloppy, and she'd giggled, his enthusiasm becoming her own. Their noses had met, his lashes resting on his wide cheekbones. "I think you're the sweetest treat, Mrs. Fleck."

Currently, Donahue's Department Store, Gotham's number one retail emporium (if the ads were to be believed), was bustling with last-minute shoppers. Weary mothers escorted their babbling children through the aisles. Clerks swapped out displays for the changing blue light specials. Lines went for yards. Patricia and Y/N sought refuge at a corner table in the café on the top floor. The warm glow from the pendant lamps provided a relaxed ambience, one that matched the hot cider and pumpkin spice cake they were savoring.

"I've got my grandson on Sunday," Patricia said between bites. "My daughter's going to a party with a medical records tech from Gotham General. Met him when she missed the bus. They split a cab and hit it off." Chuckling, she lifted her mug. "Speaking of, how's married life been so far?"

Memories of the past week quickened Y/N's heart, until she thought it might stop. How Arthur had gripped her replacement Social Security card, just to read her new name. The way he'd grab her for a twirl whenever they were in the kitchen. The reverence in his gaze when they'd lay together after sex, a look that both thrilled and made her blush. "The bills for his medication and appointments will no longer make us cringe," she deadpanned. She lowered her fork. "When we met, I was kind of blindsided - I'm not the type to fall in love quickly." The corners of her lips tugged up. "Being married to Arthur feels like a habit. A habit I should have learned twenty years ago."

"I'm glad you found each other." Patricia reached across the light brown table and covered Y/N's hand, gave it a squeeze. Then she wiped frosting from her mouth and nodded in the direction of the escalator. "Now let's find a costume that'll drive him nuts."

Beyond the colorful cosmetics and pungent perfume counters, they sorted through racks of vinyl smocks and plastic masks. Pop culture icons and princesses. Vampires and spooks. Knockoffs of classic movie monsters. Most were poorly made and decidedly uninteresting. Y/N pawed through accessories in a nearby basket, a cigar here, a patched hat there. "How about a hobo? I could steal Arthur's tie."

"This was his idea. Give him something a little exciting." After a roll of Y/N's eyes, Patricia held out a plastic display bag. "Found it."

The white font on its blue label declared she should "Create a unique look!" A woman in a leopard-print leotard and bow-tie wore black cat ears and a tail, the only two items included in the set. Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I don't think so, Patricia." She rummaged through another bin and examined a hockey mask. "I don't show a lot of skin."

"You show Arthur." Patricia ignored Y/N's glare, continuing to shove it at her. "Every man loves a woman dressed as a cat. Our next lunch is on me if I'm wrong."

Patricia could be relentless, but Y/N had to admit she was usually right. She arched a brow as she eyed the costume. Maybe she could find a solid body suit instead of animal print. The kit was only $2.98. And her friend had made it a challenge. "You're on. But I'm not wearing a bow-tie." She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her mouth. "Your turn. Would Robert like you as a French maid or a go-go dancer?"

~~~~~

It was a busy season for performers. Arthur remembered HaHa's talent agency being booked solid for October by the end of August. Myriad functions at nursing homes, parties, and children's organizations took place throughout the city. Amusement Mile had a series of special events, allowing Arthur to work extra hours before the slowness of winter dragged in. Once the holiday was over, he'd buy make-up and props on clearance.

He'd always assumed he would like Halloween - if he'd had the chance to celebrate it properly. It was about connection, something he'd never managed. The customs gave him a pretense, a template to meet people, rather than leaving him wondering how to go about it. Provided a hiding place for his seeming inability to act normal.

Recollections of the day were few but vivid. When he'd been around eight, there'd been a party at school. The teacher had made brownies and given the students a half-hour respite from lessons. (A welcome relief, since he wasn't very good at most of them.) But he hadn't had a costume. Hadn't known how to reply when the other kids asked where it was. Not wanting to be left out, he'd pocketed a watercolor pallet and sneaked to the bathroom.

The teacher (he wished he could remember her name) had walked in as he'd smeared green and blue on his face, a pathetic attempt at a turtle. Fear of punishment had caused his laughter. But her kindness as she knelt, wiped away tears and pigment with a scratchy, brown paper towel, had calmed him. "Wait here," she'd instructed. It had taken all his courage not to run home.

After some minutes, she'd returned, an old white sheet in one hand, black marker and pair of scissors in the other. "The nurse won't miss this." She'd traced eyeholes, helped him cut them out. She'd asked questions. About his mother and what it was like at home. Questions he was at a loss for how to answer. Finally, she'd draped the cloth over his head. "There," she'd declared. "Gotham Elementary has its own ghost."

Even as he'd gotten taller and the sheet no longer went beyond his knees, that costume had remained his go-to. He'd venture out to the rest of his building, knocking on paint-chipped doors and pushing broken buzzers. Having learned to stay away from doors that yelling or funny smells emanated from, he hadn't gotten a lot of candy. What he had collected he'd shared with Penny. The wax lips became a free toy. He wasn't sure his memory of startling his mother and being tickled until he couldn't breathe was real or imagined.

At twelve, he was told he was too old to go trick-or-treating. He'd starting scrounging for change to buy hard candies at Helm's Pharmacy. They weren't particularly appetizing, but they'd been what he could afford. Only a few kids rang, a number that dwindled further every year. Most neighbors kept their distance, likely aware he was troubled. Cinnamon discs and butterscotch drops had loitered around the apartment for months. He'd sucked on them in an attempt to cut down on his smoking, just to save money. It hadn't worked.

Y/N hadn't spoken about the holiday, not the way she had other special occasions. At first, he'd thought it had slipped her mind. Work, planning their honeymoon, completing the red tape required to meld all aspects of their lives had taken up much of their time. But, given her reluctance to talk in detail about her past heartache, he'd come to assume her Halloweens had been unpleasant. He was certain he could change that.

Sitting on the dingy, dark green plastic seat of the train car, he giggled to himself, chest puffing up as he straightened. They'd been man and wife for eight whole days. Movies and songs said love was supposed to be somewhere between serendipitous and fated. A happy accident that was meant to be. Lying awake at night, he would find himself wondering where they were on that scale. If the emotions swirling through him - the excitement of belonging, the fear of fucking up - were what every newlywed felt. Then Y/N would snuggle closer in her sleep, murmur nonsense into his skin, and for a few minutes he'd be at peace.

Years had been spent trying to figure out who he was. Trying to find an identity, his role within the world. While he was still searching, it had been far easier to become accustomed to the role of "husband" than he'd dreamed.

Teaching his wife about events across the city had been a delight. Gotham Village's Annual Costume Extravaganza was a parade that went all the way to Gotham Square. He'd participated a couple of times, never formally registering but slipping into the clown section. It had been exhilarating. Had allowed him to pretend, for a little while, that he was being seen. That the crowds lining the sidewalks were cheering for him. Signs for extravagant balls were plastered on billboards and lampposts throughout the streets; he'd have gladly attended and shown her off. A haunted house was being held in a building in his old neighborhood, a fundraiser for the orphanage. He hadn't brought that up.

In the end, once he'd explained trick-or-treaters went from apartment to apartment, they'd decided on a cozy evening at home. The details had been left to her. Whatever she'd plan, he'd love it. He wondered what she'd disguise herself as. Would she be a sexy devil or nurse, like he'd seen on a sit-com? The notion sparked a fire in his cheeks.

Given how busy he'd be, he'd stay dressed as plain, old Carnival. Part of him regretted accepting two gigs, especially on a Sunday. He would have preferred her company. But he wanted to put the money towards the wedding band he'd put on layaway. (Even though they had one account, he wasn't going to let her chip in for it.) He should already be wearing it for all of Gotham to see.

The lurch of the subway prompted him to rise and grasp the pole grip. His stance widened as it came to a halt, knees bending with the instinct of a man who'd ridden public transportation since he was a boy. As soon as the graffiti-covered doors parted, he stepped out onto the platform and ascended the stairs, eager to share his new insurance information with Dr. Ludlow.

~~~~~

Scratchy violins and the hum of a theremin. Shrill shrieks and cracks of thunder. A cackle resounded, then a pipe organ, playing a melody in a minor key.

There was no doubt about it. Halloween spirit had saturated 4A.

NCB's Movie Marathon Mayhem had begun at 10:00 AM. Y/N had had it on since getting out of the shower, hoping to catch a horror classic while she decorated the apartment and prepared Bloody Mary mix. As she hung cotton batting between the television's rabbit ears, creating a long, narrow spider-web, she realized they were only playing cheesy B-movies. Giant insects threatening buildings. Science experiments gone wrong. Alien invasions. Oh well. At least she wouldn't have to pay much attention to get the gist of the plots.

The orange plastic platter, black bats along its edges, had been an impulse buy. She thought its array of sugary skeletons, candy bracelets, and Jolly Jack chocolate bars would be well received. But having seen only one or two kids in the lobby, she had no idea how many children lived in their building. She hoped she'd bought enough.

The cardstock window decorations she'd found were festive and matched Arthur's sweet nature. One portrayed a warted, green witch flying on a broom past a full moon. On the other, a ghost and mouse shared a pillowcase of candy and wished a "Happy Halloween." She held the tape dispenser between her teeth as she stuck them to their white front door.

Just then, the elevator dinged. Glancing to her left, she saw Arthur stroll down the cheerfully lit hallway. Buoyant expression on him, despite his white, blue, and red make-up being streaked from sweat. Striped prop bag on his shoulder and carved pumpkin cradled in his arms. "The store owner was going to throw it out," he explained with a half hug. "But he let me have it as a tip."

Classic, triangular eyes evoked the annual carving contest her parents had taken part of back home. Her father had been well-known in the community, being the town's only doctor. Entering the competition had been expected. They'd never won but enjoyed it all the same. Y/N had picked out the patterns and scooped out the squash's slimy innards. Her mother had baked the seeds. Peals of their laughter echoed in her ears, and a lump formed in her throat.

She swallowed hard against it. Dammit, Y/N. Get it together. This was supposed to be a special night for Arthur and her. She needed to distract herself. One of his curls peeked out from under his bald-cap and green wig. She twirled a strand around her finger. "With that toothy grin, it just might be your twin," she said. He pecked her temple, the kiss sticky from greasepaint. She lit the half-melted candles using his red lighter and put the jack-o-lantern just outside their door.

While he freshened his paint in the bedroom, she slinked into the bathroom to change. Arthur's and her routines were closely aligned; keeping her costume hidden had not been easy. The headband holding the furry cat ears was quite stiff, its teeth a tad sharp on her scalp. Once it was in place, she hid it under her hair. The lint on her form-fitting stretch top and leggings reminded her why she rarely wore all black. She retrieved her brown eyeliner from the nearby shelf and started in on her whiskers.

Arthur's footsteps neared, heavy due to his clown shoes, and Y/N turned to lean back on the sink. His thin lips parted as he scanned her body, forehead furrowed in pleasant surprise. His reaction planted a seed of bliss in her belly, one that bloomed every second they regarded each other. The lunch she'd have to spring for was well worth the pink shells of his ears. Eventually, she held out the fluffy, wired tail and a safety pin. "Would you pin this just below my waistband?"

Fingers grazing hers, he took it and sat on the toilet lid. He cupped her hips and pulled her closer, positioned her until the dampness of his breath hit a bare sliver of her back. "Hold still," he murmured, his voice sending a tingle through her. At his gentle ministrations, the spandex of her leggings felt snugger. "Did you- Did you read my journal?"

A faint click of metal as the pin closed. "No." She colored the tip of her nose, frowned at how lackluster the shade was. "I'd never do that. Even if I'm dying for a preview of your material. Why?"

"No reason." A soft huff, his shy smile clear in his answer. "I have an idea." He handed her a washcloth and hurried out of the room. She was patting her face dry when he returned, a fine tipped brush and pot of black greasepaint in his hand. "This'll look better."

Her brow arched. She'd only had her make-up done once; Patricia had invited her when they'd first met. Such an outing was not her preference, but Y/N had accepted, being new in town and wanting to learn about her colleague. There'd been champagne at the counter, which she'd sipped until she'd spent too much on eyeshadow and apricot scrub. The next morning, she'd put the products and a note on Patricia's desk: "I'll never forgive you. Thanks!"

The heat radiating from Arthur prompted her to close the gap between them. She craned her neck towards him, slid her palms to his yellow vest until she held him just below his ribs. His forefinger curled under her chin, lifted it slightly and angled it to the right. The cool, wet brush met her fevered skin. The dusty smell of the greasepaint blended with a whiff of stale cigarette smoke and traces of his sweat. She licked her lips.

The vibration of his chuckle was felt before heard. "I really like your costume," he said lowly. Two more ticklish caresses of the bristles on the apple of her cheek. "If you're not careful, I might werewolf and go wild."

She stretched closer to him, the fervor in his tone going straight to her center. Though he'd been growing bolder, his cocky side wasn't often revealed. She wanted it, thirsted to see more of the wild horse kicking inside him. Her touch ran over his chest, until she dipped under his black suspenders and pulled. "Are you going to gobble me up?"

Teasing strokes on her nose. "Maybe." Then his thumb whispered along her jaw and guided her face upwards. His kiss was supple, slow, a drag of his mouth as his tongue sought entry. She yielded, the simmer of anticipation bringing her to her toes. He groaned deeply and palmed her thigh, then fondled the curve of her rear-

The ding-dong of the doorbell halted them. He lifted his head and laughed, gaze sparkling. "I got paint on you."

She twisted in his arms and looked in the mirror. The whiskers caught her eye, embellished at the ends with dainty curlicues - his skill never ceased to impress her. Red brightened her lips and streaks of white were on her cheek. "It's all right. They'll just know I've been necking with a clown."

~~~~~

The sound of the bell continued. Over and over and over. More than it ever had in Otisburg. There were mummies, ghosts, a couple of skeletons. A superhero proudly displayed his red cape and blue tights, and a kid in her karate robe went on about her yellow belt. A tiny clown, too young to walk, was brought by her sister. As Arthur made funny faces, the baby cooed and tried to take his red, foam nose. Arthur parted with it gladly.

Only one member of the Wayne family appeared, slicked back hair and pompous pout making the disguise complete. The man accompanying the boy introduced himself as their upstairs neighbor and shook their hands. After one look at Y/N, he nudged Arthur's bicep. "So, she's the one keeping half the building up at night. Good on you, pal." Arthur blinked in confusion as she ushered the guy away, red-faced and muttering about his nerve.

Arthur was overly generous, giving out fistfuls of sweets while taking a few extra seconds to gather his nerves and compliment the costumes he liked best. It felt good to interact with strangers without constantly second guessing himself. Y/N would rub his arm or kiss his shoulder and tell him what a great job he was doing. "Kids are easy," he said, refilling the candy dish. But he reveled in her praises, anyway. And the knowledge that meeting the neighbors was going well.

Clean-up required little effort. The jack-o-lantern sat on their kitchen table, flames flickering as the wicks burned away. The door decor was packed safely for use next year. His plaid blazer was slung over the back of a dining chair and his wig was off. Y/N's decision to leave her whiskers on pleased him - she made a damn sexy cat. He pocketed the last few pieces of candy to snack on during the remainder of the evening.

The Sunday Night Special Presentation she'd picked out, a made-for-TV horror movie, began at 9:00 PM on GBC. Most of its airtime was punctuated by her tipsy snickers and legal wisecracks, which was typical when they watched something stupid. Yet, as the show went on, she grew quieter, barely speaking between sips of her third cocktail. As they sat on the sofa, her posture stiffened. Forearms crossed over her breasts. Her nails dug into her upper arm.

The change started two-thirds of the way into the show, when the plot about a doll running amok twisted into a story about a professional woman trying to assert herself against the demands of her mother. Against the expectations of availability. To fight for the simplicity of having dinner and peace and quiet. It resonated with him, which felt weird. Especially when the film cut to black, the implication being the mother would meet a violent end at the hands of her possessed daughter.

A cheerful jingle came on. Puerto Rico was a direct flight from Gotham Airport, it advertised, a flight that lasted "two hours and fifteen tropical minutes." They should get out while the weather was still good. The juxtaposition of mood broke him out of his ponderings. He flicked off the blaring television with the remote. Then he heard Y/N sniffling.

She set her glass on the coffee table, a slight tremble in her hand. "I need some air," she whispered as she rose, then went out onto the fire escape.

Arthur rubbed his thigh and pressed his lips together. He wasn't used to seeing her cry. Not from sadness. Should he follow her? Give her time? Both had worked previously, depending on the situation. But he wasn't sure what had upset her, what situation they were in now.

Exhaling sharply, he grabbed her glass and dumped the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink. Rinsed their dinner plates and put the slow cooker in the fridge. When he'd finished making decaf coffee ten minutes later, she still hadn't returned. He ambled towards the ajar glass door and stepped out.

Moonlight outlined her shapely figure and reflected off her hair, the silver a contrast to the orange glow of the streetlamps illuminating her face. Her stare seemed fixated on the street below. He followed it to see a group of ghouls and goblins spraying shaving cream on a shop window. A couple, one he'd see occasionally when out for a cigarette, walked down the sidewalk. A woman was half-carrying a drunk man towards a bus stop.

Upon clearing her throat, Y/N spoke. "I may not look like it, but I had a great time with you tonight. The movie just got to me." Relieved, Arthur sidled next to her, wrapped his arm about her back. Her head fell to his shoulder and she smoothed her hand over his stomach. "I don't mean to hide from you. Someday you'll know the details of my earlier life." She scoffed. "When I'm ready to think about them." He entwined their fingers and kissed her hairline, avoiding the wired tips of her cat ears.

Shivering, she took a shaky breath. "There are no skeletons in my closet. Only disappointments." Her voice cracked as she beamed at him, cupped his cheek, and pressed her face to his. "Knowing I'd get to have you would have made those years so much easier."

He held her tightly, massaging between her shoulders. She'd been speaking about herself, but he couldn't help thinking it was about him, too. His years with Penny. His stints in Arkham. The loneliness, the isolation, the endless anger and yearning to be more than a speck of dirt no one cared for. His journal was full of questions about where the hell his one and only was. If he'd known she'd be real, tangible instead of a figment, would existence have hurt less?

Wincing, he tried to push through those thoughts. To focus on her instead of himself. What mattered was that Y/N needed him. Perhaps a joke would cheer her. "I was thinking the other night of how easy it is to smile around you," he said. "You tickle my funny bone." Amusement bubbled in her throat, music to his ears. She released a contented sigh and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

Peaceful stillness ensued as the minutes passed. Though the breeze was chill, goosebumps forming on his pale skin, her affection kept his heart warm. His fingertips rubbed circles into her lower back, and she offered a pleasured hum. Across the way, footsteps pounded. He glanced to see a kid darting up the street, plastic pumpkin pail in tow. The boy's scream was filled with boundless energy: "Happy Halloween, Gotham!"

Snorting, Y/N took Arthur's hand and led him inside. The cheap tail she wore bounced with every exaggerated swivel of her hips. "I've behaved all evening, which your werewolf comment made extraordinarily difficult." She looped her arms around him and flashed a come-hither stare. "May I have a goodie?"

The scrape of her nails on his scalp coiled a knot in his abdomen. "Aren't you supposed to say 'trick-or-treat?'" he asked huskily.

"Your pussycat needs a petting or two." She closed the bedroom door behind them. "Maybe even a mauling."

His brows shot up on a hitched giggle. Then he palmed her hip while she started in on his buttons. Before she got too far, he traced a whisker with the pad of his thumb. Let their foreheads meet and pecked her eyelids. "Only if you give me something good to eat." He pressed into her, his enjoyment relentless, not waiting for her reply before devouring her mouth.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​, @howdylilflower​, @sweet-nothings04​, @stephieraptorr​, @rommies​, @fallenstarsabyss​, @gruffle1​, @octopus-plasma​, @tsukiakarinobara​, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​, @another-day-in-chuckletown​, @hhandley80​, @jokerownsmysoul​, @mrscarnival​

[papermoonloveslucy]

KATIE & ROSCOE

November 6, 1948

“Katie & Roscoe” is episode #17 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on November 6, 1948.

Synopsis ~ Katie, the Cugat's maid, has been telling her long-distance romance that she was rich. Can Liz convince Roscoe that she's the maid and Katie is her employer? It all depends on whether or not George finds out!

This script was partially used as the basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “Mertz and Kurtz” (ILL S1;E32) first aired on October 11, 1954. 

Note: This episode of “My Favorite Husband” was aired before the characters names were changed from Cugat to Cooper. It was also before Jell-O came aboard to sponsor the show and before the regular cast featured Bea Benadaret and Gale Gordon as the Atterburys.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cugat) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. “My Favorite Husband” eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cugat) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz, a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Hans Conried (Roscoe Miller) first co-starred with Lucille Ball in The Big Street (1942). He then appeared on “I Love Lucy” as used furniture man Dan Jenkins in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) and later that same season as Percy Livermore in “Lucy Hires an English Tutor” (ILL S2;E13) – both in 1952. The following year he began an association with Disney by voicing Captain Hook in Peter Pan. On “The Lucy Show” he played Professor Gitterman in “Lucy’s Barbershop Quartet” (TLS S1;E19) and in “Lucy Plays Cleopatra” (TLS S2;E1). He was probably best known as Uncle Tonoose on “Make Room for Daddy” starring Danny Thomas, which was filmed on the Desilu lot. He joined Thomas on a season 6 episode of “Here’s Lucy” in 1973. He died in 1982 at age 64. 

John Hiestand (Cory Cartwright) served as the announcer for the radio show “Let George Do It” from 1946 to 1950. In 1955 he did an episode of “Our Miss Brooks” opposite Gale Gordon. Cory was a regular character who was eventually written out of the series when the Atterbury’s (Gale Gordon and Bea Bendaret) were introduced. 

Bea Benadaret (Lucy, Party Line Gossip) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricarodo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Florence Halop (Bessie, Party Line Gossip) was cast to replace Bea Benadaret in a radio show moving to CBS TV called “Meet Millie” when she was hired to play on of the two women on Lucy Ricardo’s party line in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) also featuring Hans Conried. She wouldn’t work for Lucy again until 1974, when she played a Little Old Lady on a Western-themed episode of “Here’s Lucy.” In 1985, she replaced Selma Diamond (who had died of lung cancer) as the bailiff on “Night Court.” Coincidentally, Halop, also a heavy smoker, died less than a year later of the same disease.

Herb Vigran (Newspaper Collection Man / Bank Telephone Voice) made several appearances on “My Favorite Husband.” He would later play Jule, Ricky’s music union agent on two episodes of “I Love Lucy”. He would go on to play Joe (and Mrs. Trumbull’s nephew), the washing machine repairman in “Never Do Business With Friends” (S2;E31) and Al Sparks, the publicity man who hires Lucy and Ethel to play Martians on top of the Empire State Building in “Lucy is Envious” (S3;E23). Of his 350 screen roles, he also made six appearances on “The Lucy Show.”

THE EPISODE

Liz Cugat is in the kitchen doing dishes when Katie the maid comes in, worried about a boyfriend she hasn’t seen in 15 years: Roscoe Miller, a wealthy man from Kansas she’s been corresponding with. Katie has told him she was wealthy, too.  Roscoe is coming to town and now Katie is worried she will be discovered as a maid, not a mistress. 

To rescue Katie, Liz will pretend to be the maid, while Katie poses as Lady of the house!  To accommodate the deception, Liz loans Katie her wardrobe and perfume.  In the process, she tears the dress.

KATIE: “I’m just too fat for your clothes.” LIZ: “Oh, fiddle-faddle!”  KATIE: “That’s just it. My fiddle’s okay, I’m just too big in the faddle.”

The doorbell rings and Liz goes into action as the maid to answer it. She admits the man, but it is just the newspaper collection man (Herb Vigran). After he goes, the bell rings again. It is Roscoe Miller, who doesn’t match Katie’s description at all. 

Katie greets Roscoe, but instinctively doesn’t sit down, forgetting she’s no longer the maid. Roscoe is still single.  Katie says she is, too, but Roscoe spots a cigar smoldering in the ashtray.  Katie says it is hers!  Roscoe also sees a photo of a man (George) inscribed “to my wife”!  She says they are her ex-husband. 

LIZ: “Pardon me, ma’am. How do you get the cream and sugar into those little tea bags?” 

Katie asks Liz to explain about the ex-husband in the photo. Thinking quick, Liz says he left and has never been heard of since, taking the children with him. 

LIZ: “And he took her automobile with him.” ROSCOE: “The cad!” LIZ: “No, the Buick.”

Liz continues her story, saying that he developed amnesia and is wandering the world somewhere. Katie starts to cry. Liz says his name was Adolph Jensen. When Katie starts to chime in on Liz’s story, they tell conflicting tales, confusing Roscoe. They can’t decide where she met him: bank or country club or whether it was 8 or 10 yeas ago.

The doorbell rings. It is Cory Cartwright (John Heistand). Liz enlists his help by telling him the whole story on the porch:

LIZ: “Roscoe Miller is Katie’s old boyfriend who thinks she’s married to Adolph Jensen. Adolph has amnesia because he embezzled the bank and we’ve got to get rid of Roscoe before George comes home and he finds out the truth. Now, is that clear?” CORY: “Sure. You just condensed the plot of the last three years of ‘Ma Perkins’.”

“Ma Perkins” was a radio soap opera heard on NBC from 1933 to 1949 and on CBS from 1942 to 1960. Between 1942 and 1949, the show was heard simultaneously on both networks. The series is widely credited with giving birth to storytelling and content-based advertising.

Cory agrees to help Liz by taking Roscoe downtown and drop him somewhere. 

Later, the phone rings and George asks if he can bring a friend home for dinner - a new acquaintance named Roscoe Miller.  

LIZ: “We’ve been held over, Katie. We’ve got to give a repeat show for the West Coast!” 

This inside joke refers to the fact that live radio (and later television) shows had to be done twice to account for the time difference. Once for the East Coast and again for the West Coast. Technology would soon make such reprises unnecessary. 

Katie urges Liz to call George back and tell him the truth. When she tries, the phone is being used by a party line with Lucy and Bessie gossiping non-stop. 

A Party Line is a local loop telephone circuit that is shared by multiple subscribers. Party line systems were used to provide telephone service starting with the first commercial switchboards in 1878. Party lines provided no privacy and were frequently used as a source of entertainment and gossip. Objections about one party monopolizing a line were common and eavesdropping remained an ongoing concern. By the end of the 20th century, party lines had been phased out in the United States.  A party line would also be featured in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) where one of the gabby partiers is also played by Florence Halop!  

If she can just get through on the phone, Liz will tell George she has lockjaw and can’t entertain guests.  When Liz is finally able to get the women to hang up, George has already left the bank. 

Cory comes back to say he’s completed his task, but Liz tells him that they’ve met up and he needs to find them and head them off.  

When George and Roscoe pull up to the Cugat home, Roscoe realizes George is Adolph Jensen!  He tells George that he’s about to be reunited with his long-lost wife!  When he opens the door, Liz and Katie both pretend George is Adolph.  Roscoe asks about Adolph’s six (or seven, according to Katie) children. 

George insists that he’s George Cugat, not Adolph Jensen. Saved by the (door) bell!  It is Cory, answering the door Liz the maid has a moment to whisper in his ear to play along.

LIZ: “Why, Adolph!  Don’t you recognize him?  Your eldest son!” GEORGE: “Cory!  Say something!” CORY: “Daddy!” 

Later, George and Liz are relieved that everything ended well. George reports that Roscoe bought a lot of bonds from him. Liz reasons that then he can afford to buy her a new fur coat.  He suddenly fiens amnesia. She does too!

LIZ: “I’m not Liz. I’m Mrs. Jensen. Give me a kiss, Adolph.” 

End of Episode

[teamhook]

Two Chapters Today... Savage Heart CS AU

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the awesome @ilovemesomekillianjones

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 17: Revelations

David is thoroughly enjoying having Archie around. His presence provides a familiarity he's missed. He would have preferred a visit from one of his favorite girls but soon he will be home with them. That thought alone is the reason he doesn't let the guilt of Snow's declining health and the heartbreak his beautiful daughter must have felt at the ending of her betrothal kill him.

He will ask Archie about Emma once they get back to his little house. Today, they have gone to the office to ensure all the papers needed for Kristoff's power of attorney are signed. He will also introduce Archie to the rest of his adoptive family.

A couple of hours later Archie and David find themselves in front of a beautiful two-story, brownstone house. There are a few oak trees not far from the front door. The houses in Arendelle are built closely together and all look like replicas of each other because of the speed in which the town keeps growing.

David is about to knock on the door when a beautiful blonde woman opens the door with a smile on her face.

Archie blinks a few times because the woman is so beautiful and he knows he will be unable to put a sentence together once their eyes meet. He cannot help smile as he sees the fondness in which she greets David with and while they talk to each other with smiles on their faces, she suddenly turns to acknowledge his presence and with a similar warm smile says, "Hello," and waves them in.

Archie knows that not all love stories share the same beginning. Some are love at first sight, others start with a simple friendship and there are the rare ones that blossom from a little dislike of the other person and turn out to be some of the greatest love stories ever told.

He listens carefully, trying not to miss a thing; he has heard that story many times before from his friend. He is happy to finally be able to put a face to the tale of his friend finding a friend in his time of need. He could definitely listen to her retell that story over and over and never tire.

Soon Elsa and Anna arrive, and it is a big family reunion. They talk about all of the exploits of the two young girls and both of them blush.

David is hit with an old favorite. The longing he feels for his family. He smiles as the conversation continues and nod in response only when needed; he soon will be reunited.

Liam finds his way to the little get together at Ingrid's house later that evening.

"I know your brother," Archie shares with Liam conspiratorially.

"Oh, that is good. How is he?" Liam looks to the older man.

"Killian is a survivor. Your brother has had a hard life."

"I can only imagine the life he has had to endure. I hope you know that had I known of his existence, I would have gone looking for him. I would have never left him behind."

"I believe you, and I think Killian knows that your words you speak are true."

"Tell me, did he marry the woman he was so adamant about returning to?"

"He told you he wanted to get married?"

"I helped him so he wouldn't be apart from his love longer than he had to. I would hate to be apart from Elsa," Liam says as he glances to his love.

"I'm afraid not. He will soon be marrying. Sadly, I don't think we could make it back in time to make the wedding. He will marry Emma within days."

"Who is marrying Emma?" David looks at Archie expectantly waiting for an answer.

"David, I have been meaning to break the news since I arrived."

"Why haven't you? I ask again, who is marrying my daughter?"

Liam interrupts, "My long lost brother and the man marrying your daughter are the same man, Killian Jones."

"Your brother is the same man?"

Ingrid, Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff are looking between the three men in a heated conversation.

"David is everything okay?" Ingrid is the first to speak.

"Liam, what is going on?"

In a surprisingly out of character twist Anna and Kristoff are abnormally silent.

David answers first. "Archie has just informed me that my daughter will be marrying a Killian Jones within days. A detail he failed to mention when he first arrived and talked this Jones character up for a business merger."

"This Jones character is my younger brother," Liam adds a bit insulted at David's reaction and smiles at Elsa.

"Wait, is he the same man that was arrested all those months back? He is the man that was going to steal from me? The name sounded so familiar." David's anger is visible.

"David, I explained the reason he was released. It was a mistake. He had no idea what his men were up to. They confessed and indicated he had no knowledge of their plans." A little fact that no one in the group knows, Liam made arrangements with the crew to confirm his version of the events. The only goal was to protect his brother, and thanks to the loyalty the crew holds to Killian, he can.

"Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that he is your brother, as I just found out."

"I didn't mention it before because of your obvious reaction. I found out about the familial relationship around that time."

"Killian mentioned this to me too. He said it was a mistake. I believe he is telling you the truth." Archie interrupts.

"David, I know I should have mentioned this as soon as I got off that ship but I got distracted." He says while stealing a glance at Ingrid.

"I just feel like I keep missing out on my daughter's milestones."

"Once we return you will be there and never leave her again."

Elsa goes to reach for Liam's arm. "Hey, are you planning to make the trip back with them? That way you see your brother and meet his new bride."

"I don't know, David is upset and besides I would prefer if you went along on such a trip." He squeezes her arm reassuringly.

"So does that mean I will be seeing you soon on the Misthaven shores? I'm just happy everything is set and we can leave tomorrow." David smiles faintly as he looks at Liam and lastly confirms the plans with Archie with a slight nod.

Cora is ecstatic about the impending wedding between Emma and Killian. She has spent a good amount of money ensuring the union comes together. She sees it as an investment to get Captain Jones away from her son and his inheritance. A small price to pay but it is definitely worth it.

She had fired all the older workers when Jones had started working at the Estate in hopes to keep the secret in the dark. Just one last thing, erasing the existence of the letter Brennan wrote - all she needs to do is find it. Where could that damn letter be? It should be somewhere in this damn house.

Lost in her thoughts; she is wrecking her once organized bedroom in search for that wretched letter once again, that is the only thing that could stop the demise that surely would come. Then there is a light knock on her door, "Madam, there is a man here to see you."

Cora goes to open the door. "Enith, I recall telling you that I did not want to be bothered."

Enith had told the man as much but he had insisted, and now she was getting on her boss's bad side and no one should ever be there. "The man said it was very important and that he would not leave until he could speak with you. He said it was either you or Mr. Jones."

That comment caught Cora's attention. "Did he at least say who to announce?"

"He said to tell you that he is a Good Samaritan, once, a long time ago."

"Oh, is that all he said?" The only Good Samaritan Cora could think of was the one that found Brennan after his accident. This could mean trouble. She barely contains one threat.

She finally makes it to the office. It is a good thing she saw Emma taking a walk with Jones earlier.

"I hope you are not here in hopes of a reward for helping my dead husband home years ago."

"Please, allow me to introduce myself before you start berating me. Malcolm Peters." He offers her his hand, which she rebuffs. She notices a pair of bags next to him but doesn't waste her time in acknowledging them.

"Get to the point. What do you want after all these years?" She sits up regally in the chair.

"Well, after that mournful day I enjoyed success in a town not that far from here. Sadly, even with great success, a sudden bad luck streak can shatter even the most successful person." He is looking at the contents of the office, the wealth displayed is obvious.

"Please, explain, what does that have to do with me?"

"The explanation is actually very simple when I found your husband's body. I tried to assess his injuries before moving him and found a very interesting letter, do I need to continue?"

"What do you want?"

"I want a mere reward for keeping quiet. After all, it is a very interesting tale. Perhaps your steward would like to hear it? Isn't his name Killian Jones, or should I say, Booth?"

Cora turns pale; she thought maybe he was bluffing. "All you want is money?"

"I also want housing and a job." Malcolm smiles at her.

"I doubt you want to be a mere worker, but since the steward position is taken that is all I can offer."

"I'm sure you can think of something and you will if you want that bit of knowledge to stay hidden."

"Where should I put my bags?"

"I will have Enith fix you a room. At least my son isn't here and I will not need to come up with any explanation."

She gets up and leaves the room. She soon finds Enith and requests the room for Mr. Peters.

It doesn't take long for Milah to convince August that they need to head back to Misthaven. "I thought you would be happy with the pairing?" August smiles tightly at the comment. In reality, he honestly thought it would never happen; Emma was bound to the convent and Killian was a notorious womanizer. "I suppose you are correct, I just didn't think it was truly a possibility."

He supposes it is his fault, he did put them in the situation together. It bothers him and that is confusing.

"My aunt surely sounds distressed over the news." She lifts the message and rereads it for the millionth time. "Do you think we will make it in time?"

"I honestly don't know, the trip is long, I specifically chose this route because I wanted to take a long trip with my lovely bride. Now I'm afraid it may be counterproductive." They had rushed to pack their belongings and now finally found themselves back on the road.

Milah cannot believe that Killian would do this to her; betray her in the most heinous way possible, he knows of her distaste for her pampered, insipid cousin. How could he do this or even think about it? What of their plans?

She hopes they make it in time; she will not lose Killian to Emma.

Emma and Killian are enjoying a walk, heading towards her favorite spot, the flower bed. He has been so quiet lately.

"Love, what do you expect of our marriage?" He scratches the back of his ear.

"I don't know, I haven't really thought of it. I, uh-" She gets flustered." I suppose, I just want us to be friends."

"Friends, love? I think there will be some more intimate situations between us, which friends don't share." He raises his eyebrow and smiles.

"Oh, I know that, but I just don't want us to lose the friendship we have been able to build in such a short time."

They stop walking once they have reached their destination. He takes his coat off and arranges it on the ground and reaches for her hand to help her down. They lay on top of the coat and are surrounded by beautiful fragrant flowers.

He turns to her and cups her face gently as he slowly leans in to kiss her. Soon the kiss escalates as he finds himself on top of her slightly pushing her legs apart with a nudge from his knee. He can hear her breathing speed up to match his and it only fuels his need for more.

Suddenly, he feels her hands push him off and she is on her feet and running back to the house.

He lays on his coat and covers his face with his forearm. That was unexpected. He likes kissing Emma a little too much for his taste.

Emma is about to walk into her room and then she hears her mother's soft voice. "Emma, are you okay? You look flushed." Her mother is looking at her with such concern.

"Yes, I think the heat got to me." She doesn't want to tell her mother exactly which heat she is talking about.

"Oh, I could ask Enith to bring you some water to cool off?" Snow smiles at her.

"No, it's fine. I feel better now."

"Sweetheart, I am your mother and no one else knows you better."

"It is nothing." She avoids her mother's knowing eyes.

"I had asked for you but I was told you went on a walk with Mr. Jones. I was hoping to meet him."

"You want to meet him?"

"Well, you seem adamant in marrying him and he is going to be my son-in-law."

"Oh, I can arrange a meeting. I could go fetch him if you'd like." Emma's mind goes back to the kiss.

"Emma, you are blushing again. What is it?"

She takes a breath before answering. "Well, we kissed."

"Oh, then I do need to meet this man. No more kisses Emma. You know very well that it is not very appropriate behavior to be alone with him and now you tell me it has been more than that." Snow smiles and shakes her head in disbelief, her daughter has always been so proper and now she acts so differently. She doesn't know if it is to be applauded or feared.

"It was just a kiss mother."

"Yet you turn beet red every time you think of it."

"Emma, I'm willing to meet him. I would have preferred for your wedding to take place after your father's return but since I hear things are moving extremely fast; I will at least meet him." Maybe she can reason with Killian Jones and convince him that a long engagement would be better.

Emma and her mother are soon on their way to the living area and find themselves sitting while they wait for Killian to make his presence known.

Killian walks inside; the ring burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted to give her the ring at the flower bed she enjoys so much, but he had ruined the moment.

Emma stands up and clears her throat. He stops mid-walk and approaches them.

"Killian Jones, please allow me to introduce to you my mother, Snow Nolan."

He bows slightly. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady." He takes her hand and kisses it.

"Thank you. I will get to the point. I think you two are rushing into marriage. I think it would be better to wait for my husband's return to proceed."

"Mother, I thought you said you would be open to the marriage." She notices her mother studying Killian as if he were familiar to her.

"No, I said I was willing to meet him and I have. One more thing, Mr. Jones I hope you know that there will be no more kisses. No more walks without a chaperone. Nothing as such until the wed-"

Emma stops her from continuing. "Mother, you never put those restrictions on Milah and August. You will not put them on us."

"Emma! I'm only doing this on your behalf, for your protection."

"No, I will no longer be treated like a child. Please, be honest, if I wanted to marry any other man you wouldn't be so eager to enforce proper protocol."

Snow glances at Killian once more and that is the moment she realizes who he reminds her of, Brennan Booth.

"If Emma wants to wait, I will not oppose."

"Good, it shouldn't be long. I have sent a message to Milah as well."

"You did what?" Emma closes her eyes. "Killian, I thank you for offering to wait but we will proceed as planned. Mother, I will not be waiting for my father to arrive. It was his decision to leave the family after all. No one asked him to abandon us in the pursuit of money. Milah shouldn't have been bothered. Oh, but your intention was another wasn't it. You were trying to thwart the wedding. I will only say this, mother, I love you but you will not be changing my mind or delaying anything. In a few days, I will be Killian's wife." She reaches out for his hand and his automatic response is to entwine their fingers together.

Emma can only think that Milah knows of the wedding and she soon will have to face her. She looks at Killian for a reaction at the mention of Milah. The thought that he would change his mind upon Milah's return scares her.

Killian is reminded of the reason for his presence at the Booth's Estate and who truly holds Emma's heart.

Snow is standing there shocked at her daughter's attitude. She stands up with as much dignity as she can muster and leaves.

"Emma love, are you okay?"

"Sorry, I thought that she was coming along. Why did you say that, that you would wait to get married?"

"I thought it was the right thing to say."

She tilts her head and smiles. She had noticed a change in his demeanor at the mention of her cousin's name.

"Since you are so eager to be my wife, how about we do this properly?" He drops to his knee and holds out the ring. "Emma Nolan, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Emma gasps and she shakily puts out her hand so he can place the ring. "Yes, I will marry you." She laughs as he puts the ring on her finger. "You do remember that I asked first?"

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones  @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke  @superchocovian  @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers​ @imlaxdris71​ @therealstartraveller776​

[shapeshifting-wildcard]

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in late August. The heat outside was sweltering by all accounts, but Leblanc was considerably cooler. Standing right next to the kitchen didn't really help, though, as Joker could feel the residual heat at his back. The coffee makers to his right certainly didn't help matters, either.

Futaba sat in front of the coffee machines, with her knees pulled up to her chest. She didn't look directly at either Joker or Sojiro as they spoke, her gaze drifting around the room and only occasionally settling on them. But Joker could tell she was paying close attention as Sojiro regaled her about the disaster that was the fireworks festival.

"Not only did he get crushed in the crowd," he said, gesturing to Joker, "but he came home looking like some kinda drowned rat."

Joker rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed huff, the puff of air buffeting his bangs a bit. He half expected Futaba to laugh at his misfortune, but instead she adopted a thoughtful expression. She muttered something under her breath, before the conversation was interrupted by the chiming of the store's bell. Futaba quickly unfurled herself from her seat and dashed behind the counter, taking cover behind Joker.

He was surprised to see two familiar figures enter the cafe: one Goro Akechi and one Kotone Arisato. Akechi strode over to the counter, a briefcase in hand, wearing a smart sweatervest and button-down shirt combo that couldn't possibly have been comfortable in this heat. Kotone slipped in behind him, door chiming again as it swung closed. She had on a cute, orange-y sundress that seemed to match her sunny disposition (and the weather). Akechi stopped in front of one of the chairs and smiled brightly to the people behind the counter, offering them a friendly greeting. Joker felt the corners of his mouth twitch up, returning the gesture. He was pleasantly surprised to see the boy.

Kotone slipped past him and into her customary seat, coincidentally the one next to where Futaba had been sitting. Joker felt Futaba's hand on his arm and cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the girl. Her head was lowered, gaze focused on some spot on his back. He wanted to turn around and pat her on the head, but that would have taken some maneuvering to accomplish.

"Oh! You're..." Joker met Akechi's gaze as the spark of recognition hit. Joker's heart lurched in his chest as he realized that there were three people in this room who knew his real name, and one person who didn't. Any one of them could potentially give it away in casual conversation. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Hey," Kotone greeted, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Sorry for dropping by unexpectedly. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Joker smiled and shook his head, while Sojiro tried to puzzle out where he'd seen Akechi before.

"Ah, right, the one on TV and stuff," he said as it finally slotted into place. "So what brings you here, Mr. Detective?"

Joker's attention returned to the other boy as he continued to stand in front of the counter. He looked around, taking in the cafe's interior. "This place is more than I imagined it to be. The atmosphere is wonderful."

"It's cozy, isn't it?" Kotone chimed in. Akechi's gaze settled on her and Joker felt a vague pang of jealousy rise up in his chest.

"It truly is," he said. "No wonder Sae-san recommended it so strongly."

Kotone opened her mouth to say something, but Sojiro interjected, his tone sharp and defensive. "I already told her everything I know. There's nothing more I got for you people."

"You people...?" Kotone repeated, looking confused. Akechi shook his head, a pleasant smile returning to his face.

"Oh no, that's not my intention. I just came to enjoy some coffee."

Joker could see Kotone's expression change out of the corner of his eye. She was glancing between Akechi and Sojiro, a slight frown on her face. Sojiro, having discovered the boy's actual reason for coming, relaxed noticeably. Akechi's gaze wandered to the girl taking cover behind Joker, undoubtedly still finding the spot on his back utterly fascinating.

"And she is...?"

Kotone leaned a little to the side, fixing Futaba with a friendly smile. "Futaba-chan, right? It's nice to finally meet you!"

"Futaba...?" Akechi repeated, his free hand reaching up to rest on his chin. "Oh, you must be Wakaba Isshiki's..."

Joker caught Kotone shooting Akechi a raised eyebrow before Sojiro interjected again. "What'll it be?"

"I'll have whatever you recommend," Akechi replied. Sojiro nodded, before casting a glance towards Kotone.

"And you?"

"I'll have the house blend, please," she said.

"Coming right up."

Sojiro scurried off to the far end of the counter, while Akechi took a seat. He sat one seat over from Kotone, setting his briefcase down in the chair between them. Kotone glanced at it and laughed softly, apparently finding the gesture amusing. She got out her tarot deck as they both waited for their orders, which didn't take too long. When Sojiro brought their cups over, Akechi murmured a soft thanks while Kotone's was much more cheery. Akechi seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment, before he finally lifted his head and glanced over Joker and Futaba.

"It seems I'm unwelcome no matter where I go."

"That won't be true forever," Kotone chimed in. Joker glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. She was busy shuffling her cards as she waited for her coffee to cool off a bit. Akechi didn't seem particularly convinced, shutting his eyes and letting out a soft sigh.

"I apologize for bothering you." Kotone glanced at him, her expression unreadable to Joker. "Apparently, my mother was in a relationship with some low-life of a man. She was swiftly discarded when he learned she was pregnant. That despair would lead to her death. Thanks to him, I was passed from foster home to foster home."

"You too, huh?"

Both Joker and Akechi turned their attention to Kotone. Kotone glanced between them, her face slowly growing red as she no doubt realized they were both staring at her. She absentmindedly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, gaze falling towards the counter.

"...My parents died in an accident when I was little. It's just been me and my brother since then."

There was a certain irony to Joker's sudden realization that he was the only kid in the room who still had parents. Part of him felt bad about still being angry at how they treated him; at least they were still alive to be angry at. Part of him felt that it didn't matter. They abandoned him and shoved him onto a relative stranger because they didn't want to deal with him anymore.

"At least you had each other." There was an icy tone to Akechi's voice. Jealousy, perhaps? At least Joker wasn't the only one with mixed feelings.

"Yeah," Kotone said, returning to shuffling her cards. "I would have been lost without him."

The laugh that followed sounded forced to Joker. He narrowed his eyes, studying her closely. There was more to it than what was said, that much he could tell. Anything other than that was lost on him, though. He had to admit he was surprised. Kotone had seemed very straightforward to him. He hadn't thought she was capable of hiding something like this.

The topic drifted to Medjed, and then to the Phantom Thieves' recent victory over them. Kotone continued to quietly shuffle her cards and sip at her coffee as Akechi talked, seemingly lost in her own world.

"Many kids your age seem to be fans of the Phantom Thieves," Akechi said, addressing Futaba. "Do you like them too?"

Futaba stayed silent, still hiding behind Joker. Akechi tilted his head, some of his shaggy brown hair falling over his shoulder in the process.

"What's the matter?"

Futaba was quiet for a beat longer. "You're popular too, Ace Detective Akechi."

Akechi laughed. "Thank you. Though I'd rather not be compared to people like the Phantom Thieves, if at all possible." He turned his attention to Kotone, who was still busily shuffling. "What about you? What do you think of them?"

Kotone glanced up at the question, looking confused, before her gaze dropped back to her hands. She was silent for a long moment.

"Is... something—"

"...I think... that's the wrong question."

Joker and Akechi shared a startled glance. Akechi leaned against the counter, resting his cheek against one hand. "The wrong question? What do you mean by that?"

Kotone hummed distractedly, clearly thinking her words over. She set her deck down and started flipping through the cards as she spoke. The first card she flipped over was the queen of pentacles. "I think it's the wrong thing to be focused on. Are the Phantom Thieves right or wrong? Are their methods good or bad? Shouldn't people be more worried about the crimes they've uncovered?"

Another card flipped over. The queen of wands this time.

"Mm... well, their first target was a teacher who was sexually harrassing and physically abusing his students. The second was an artist who plagiarized his students' work. The third was a mafia boss who exploited students..." Akechi counted the targets off on his fingers. Kotone nodded again, flipping over the four of pentacles this time.

"A bunch of adults in positions of power who exploited those below them. That's just three people, outed over the course of what, a few months?" This time the five of swords. "How many others like them are out there, lurking in the shadows?"

Silence fell over the four of them as the question sank in. Of course they all knew the answer was "far too many." Kotone continued to draw cards, this time turning over the Hermit.

"An adult I once trusted said, 'this world is rotten.'" Kotone grimaced, an expression that seemed both ill-fitting and all too fitting on her face all at once. "It was one of the few true things he said."

"He mistreated you, too." It wasn't a question. Akechi's tone was remarkably soft though, not unlike the tone he'd used with Futaba mere moments ago.

Kotone nodded quietly. "I think, instead of going around and around about whether the Phantom Thieves are right, people should be asking, 'why is the world rotten, and what can we do to fix that?'"

Akechi fell silent, looking thoughtful. Kotone fussed with her deck, shuffling the remaining cards again and staring at the pile she'd already laid down. After a moment, Akechi picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip from it.

"Mm, this is delicious." He glanced over the rim and met Joker's gaze. "You get to drink this coffee every day? I'm incredibly jealous. I would never have thought you'd be boarding at this cafe." He leaned over the counter, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We seem to share some kind of bond."

Kotone snorted, turning away as she visibly suppressed a giggle. Joker pointedly ignored her and the little gremlin joining in on her gigglefit from behind him.

"I agree."

Kotone looked back to Joker, noticeably surprised to hear him speak. Thankfully, she didn't comment.

Akechi, meanwhile, just laughed and smiled. "Thank you." He glanced down at the cup again, idly tracing around the outside edge. "I believe that fate brings people together. It's strange, but talking to you," he glanced towards Kotone, "the both of you, is thought-provoking."

"Huh?" Kotone stared at Akechi wide-eyed for a moment, before frowning slightly. "Wait, you're not just saying that because you think I'm weird, right?"

Akechi half snorted as he laughed this time. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. "Not until you said that, no."

Kotone huffed and stuck her tongue out at him, looking more like an elementary schooler than a third year high schooler. Futaba snickered again, clinging tightly to Joker's shirt as she leaned against his back. Akechi finished off his coffee and flashed Joker another brilliant grin. Joker hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Well, I think I found my go-to cafe."

[ohmeohmayohmy]

With the Slightest Smile, Chapter 6

Taglist: @reedusteinrambles @juxt4p0siti0n @kurtnehhhh @singularpurplepansy @chlobo6

Notes: Tumblr was throwing a fit, so it’s taken a while to upload this bad boy. But good god, my heart is thawing out from that sweet, sweet Brian emotional turmoil. I love the man, and sometimes my heart aches for him. Maybe someday things will get better for him. I’d like to think so. Also, DAMN my boys are looking fine. 💕

Warnings: Implications of sexual nature (nothing in detail, no smut), a little bit of drinking, brief mention of body image issues, some F-bombs.

Words: 8.1k+

___________________________________

August 20, 1973

4:04am.

Again.

Only twenty four hours ago, you spent sweet time with Brian, together in the kitchen you shared, enjoying each other's sleepy company. Presently, Brian was alone, laying in bed, trying not to watch helplessly as the time ticked away on his bedside clock. Twenty four hours ago, it was as if you were all his, and he was all yours. No one outside of the confines of the flat existed. 

But life goes on.

You were still at work. 

And Brian had yet to fall asleep. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the nightclub mere hours ago. What transpired between you and John. It was cycling through his mind on repeat: the hope in Deaky’s eyes, how enamored he looked through the haze of intoxication; your response, how you held your hand to his chest before telling him no. What Brian couldn’t seem to move past was how you said it. You made it clear that you had no intention of saying yes to John under the influence of alcohol, but that didn’t mean you would still refuse in another situation. He wanted so desperately to convince himself it was the man, not the moment, but all that would come to mind were images of you and John laughing, with you sharing a smile that Brian wanted for himself. It was all too familiar, and he didn’t think he could endure losing you to someone close again.

Years ago, he came up with the rule that neither of you would talk about romantic interests unless prompted. You agreed. He never asked, so you never told. Now, it was all Brian could do to not ask you how you felt about Deaky. He was afraid to know the answer, but god, he wanted to.

Though the window was cracked open and the fan was blowing, Brian felt that the air filling his room grew hotter and staler with each passing minute. He tried to get out from the blankets, to rid himself of any excessive insulation, but in doing so he only managed to get tangled up more deeply in the sheets. Kicking and straining, Brian’s right leg broke free, followed by his hips and torso, then he wriggled his left leg into the coolness of the bedroom. He flung his tee shirt from his clammy chest, and stripped his boxers, throwing them directly at the hamper across the way. None of it seemed to help.

No matter how free he was, Brian still suffocated in sorrow.

_______________

September 27

“Nurse?”

You had your back turned to the desk, facing the center of the nurses’ station, your eyes closed shut. Strangely, the hospital lighting was giving you a headache. It seldom had that effect on you. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that you hadn’t taken a day off in a week, that you were sleep deprived. It didn’t matter.

“Nurse Y/L/N.” The person addressing you sounded more assertive. With a deep breath, you spun around to see whomever it was. 

Doctor Tead.

“Hello, sir,” you spoke in a chipper tone, hiding your weariness. “Can I do something for you?”

“Perhaps. Nurse Roberts said your shift ended twenty minutes ago, but discovered you sitting here. Can you explain that?”

“Oh, well I—”

“We are not in the business of paying overtime for those who just sit taking a doze, do you understand?”

You nodded slowly.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Doctor Tead relished in the moment. “Good girl,” he cooed in condescension, patting your hand, and began strutting off.

You watched the doctor disappear behind a patient’s door, fuming at his gross, patronizing comments. He wasn’t even the head of medicine; he was not your boss and had no real power over the nursing staff. Doctor Tead was the only person in the hospital that you harbored a sincere loathing for. He was a middle aged man who would hit on every new young nurse, and if one were to turn him down, he would make it his personal business to ruin her day. Needless to say, there were many recipients of Tead’s hectoring.

You grumbled as you slid from the seat, smoothed out your uniform, and grabbed your purse. Nurse Roberts, the head nurse, approached you after seeing that you were up. 

“Take a couple of days off, honey.” 

She was a stern, intimidating woman, but she cared for her nurses with intense compassion. You smiled at her before she could return to her other tasks. “I will see you on Sunday.” With a wave of the hand, she was gone.

You exited through the ward’s doors and began your descent downstairs. The main lobby of the hospital was fairly empty, there was only a visiting family and a few new admittances waiting to be brought up. A nurse standing by the front desk said goodbye before you walked outside. You exchanged some quick pleasantries, then continued on your way. Coming upon the parking lot, your attention was caught by someone walking toward you. He grinned at you. It was one of the younger doctors, Arthur Carlisle.

“Hello, Y/L/N,” he stopped to greet you. “Leaving so soon? Just when I arrive?” He teased you, as he often did, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Shift’s up.” You felt bad for being curt, but getting away from there was your current priority. “Have to get home.” When you tried to sidestep past him, he stuck an arm out.

“Are you alright?”

“I am tired.” You pushed his arm down and out of your way. “Have a nice evening, Doctor Carlisle.” You started to walk again, at a faster pace than before.

“Wait, Y/N,” the doctor called after you. You tensed at the sound of your first name being used. Only other nurses would address you as such. Never doctors. You didn’t take another step, but you didn’t look back at him either. Taking that as an invitation, Carlisle came up to stand next to you. “I’ll give him hell for you,” he said, referring to Tead. You gave him a tiny smirk, then carried on to the nearby stop for the Tube. “And it’s Arthur to you!”

* * *

Rides home were the few times where you could sit back and immerse yourself in your headspace without interference. People wouldn’t bother you in your nurse’s uniform if you appeared to be sleeping–they wouldn’t dare disturb you.

You leaned against the back of your seat, resting your head on the window to your left. You placed your legs up beside you, since your row was otherwise vacant. The rattle of the train was soothing, giving enough noise to make you feel not as alone as you did, but not enough to distract or interrupt your thoughts.

You hadn’t spent time with the band over the course of the last month, only barely seeing Brian when your schedules allowed for it. Roger stopped by once or twice to get things from Brian while you were home, but that was the extent of interaction. You wanted to distance yourself, give any drama that was bubbling up a chance to simmer down. What John had said on his birthday made you question how much time and attention you were giving to the group, and the implications behind it all. You didn’t mean to give anyone the wrong idea. You didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. So, you decided it best to stop hanging around the studio for a while. Brian concurred a little too hastily.

Stella kept you company on most of the nights when near-isolation became too much, and Brian was busy. Sometimes her girlfriend, Odette, would join in the festivities of the evening, bringing in pastries from the bakery she ran, but mostly Stella would come alone and let you rant as much as necessary. You found it easier to get riled up on certain days, especially those on which you had interactions with Doctor Tead. More often than not, however, you would sip on the champagne Stella brought with her and speak tipsy, teary musings about love and life. She found the spectacle very amusing, being the sober onlooker.

The screech of brakes echoed through the traincar, taking you out of your head. When you came out onto the street, you noticed the sky was still speckled with rosy-hued streaks and creamy clouds. The trees lining the streets framed the sight like a painting, and you felt like a piece of the art just by witnessing it. You slowly made your way home, passing several people. Some you recognized and others you didn’t, but you flashed a tired smile at anyone who came your way. With work behind you, you wanted to move forward in the day with happiness instead of resentment. The closer you got to your building, the bigger your smile became. Noting that Brian’s car was parked in its usual place, you quickened your gait. As you came up the indoor stairwell, you fished through your purse for keys.

I really do need to clear this thing out.

Walking through the hallway, you smelled something cooking. Making it to your door, you located the source of the scent and heard music playing. The light streaming through the gap between the door and the floor was faint. You hesitantly turned the key in the lock, hoping you weren’t about to interrupt anything. Pushing the door open enough to squeeze through, you glanced around the living room.

No one was there, but there were lit candles twinkling on every surface you could see. You didn’t think you and Brian even possessed that many candles between the two of you.

You tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to remain as inaudible as possible. The countertops were absolutely spotless, and there were two unused wine glasses set out next to a fresh platter of butternut squash ravioli and a bowl of simple tossed salad. You took in a whiff of the food, making your mouth water. It was one of your favorite dishes, and the only thing you had eaten since your shift started at 5 o’clock that morning was an apple. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the temptation, you left the kitchen to see if anyone was in the flat. You knew Brian’s car was downstairs, but you couldn’t know for certain that he was alone.

Inching down to Brian’s bedroom, you could make out a gentle whimper from behind his door. It was quiet, but as you got nearer to it, the more distinct it became. You grew worried, beginning to take larger strides. Then the soft whimpering was accompanied by some panting. It struck you. You didn’t want to barge in on him if he was with a girl, so you froze just short of the doorway with a hand in the air prepared to knock, stopped out of not wanting to intrude on Brian’s privacy. You felt stuck to the floor, unable to move your feet. 

To your horror, the door suddenly flew open, and you stood face to face with a sweaty Brian. Upon seeing you, his eyes widened and his expression was mortified. His face was red, possibly from embarrassment, but that was probably not the sole factor. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” you spoke first, and started babbling, “I didn’t know you had company. I would’ve made myself scarce or—”

“Oh, no no no no,” he shook his hands in front of his body with great fervor. “I’m, uh, I’m alone.”

You furrowed your brow, confused by the romantic atmosphere. The candles. The wine. The fancy food.

Wow.

You didn’t know what to say. 

Say something!

“You really go all out when romancing yourself, huh?”

Anything would have been better than that! Silence is better than that!

You clapped a hand over your mouth, ashamed. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. He towered over you, but somehow, he stood small.

“Sorry,” you whispered from behind your hand. Brian chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s alright, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, and could see his eyes screaming, but decidedly didn’t say anything about it out of gratitude for his understanding. Due to the sheer discomfort, you started laughing involuntarily, with your hand still placed over your mouth. Brian reached out a hand to put it on your shoulder, to calm you, but decided that wouldn’t be best.

You straightened up, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye. ���Did you wait for me to have dinner?” He nodded, his gaze intense but sweet. You weren’t paying enough attention to see that.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, exactly,” Brian played with his hair. “It should still be warm. At least, I hope so.”

“Mind if I clean myself up first?” You bit your lip, gesturing to your uniform.

“I was about to ask you the same,” he said, lighthearted. You beamed at his delicate face.

“After you,” you motioned to the bathroom door. Brian gave you a funny look, but you weren’t thinking about your words. He dipped his head and ducked into the room. 

You turned to grab clean clothes from your bedroom and kick the shoes off your aching feet. Brian came out after a couple minutes.

“All yours,” he peered into your room with a smile painfully plastered across his cheeks. You gathered up your things and went to turn the water on. A scalding hot shower was all you needed to wash the day away.

* * *

Brian felt foolish as he waited for you to finish your shower. You didn’t seem to understand what he was putting out for you, running around making the flat more presentable. Or the energy he spent trying to figure out how to make ravioli from scratch, and the time it took to ask for help from one of your neighbors when he broke down over his cooking failure. Even getting hold of and lighting all the candles was a larger undertaking than he anticipated. If you couldn’t see what he was trying to tell you, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring it up.

You finally opened the bathroom door, steam rolling out through the hall like a thick fog. Stepping into the living room, you radiated warmth. Brian watched you approach him in your purple pajama set, hair still wet but not dripping. The flickering of the candles reflected in the satiny fabric covering your body. Brian had to force his eyes to keep them from dancing all over your figure. He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Should I get down some plates for us?” You started for the cupboard.

“No,” Brian reached out a hand to touch you. “You don’t need to lift a finger, go take a seat. ’Ve got it.” He smiled genuinely, urging you to relax. You appreciated the sentiment, so you went to throw yourself on the sofa.

A few moments later, Brian set down a wine glass in front of you and one in front of the worn “study chair”, where he would sit. He popped open a new bottle of moscato and poured a generous amount into each of your cups. Placing the bottle on the far end of the coffee table, he spun around and marched back into the kitchen. You heard the clanging of some dishes, setting you on edge, but when Brian reemerged with two plates of ravioli and salad, you lazed back into the softness of the couch. He settled into his customary position.

“Cheers,” he held out his glass.

“Cheers.” You smiled into your drink as you took a sip.

Brian had some trouble getting a ravioli to latch onto the prongs of his fork. It was enough to entertain you, until he gave up and started on his salad. You were not met with the same difficulty, and smugly scooped a piece of the entree into your mouth, making sure Brian was watching. He stuck out his tongue, then with a stroke of luck, managed to get one to stay long enough for him to eat. 

Of course, it was all a show for you. He just wanted to make you happy. He had spoken to Stella earlier when she called for you, and she let it slip that you were having a hard time lately, between your problems at work and the sudden separation from her other friends, the boys.

“So, what’s all of this, then?” You glanced around at the candles and the cleanliness.

In that moment, Brian decided to put off any big revelations for another time. You were exhausted and needed some time to enjoy yourself, without clouds of worry. He looked down and grinned softly.

“Wanted to celebrate you,” Brian’s voice matched his expression.

You didn’t understand what he meant. You never did.

He perked up. “I mean, someone ought to. You’re one of our country’s finest healers!” His playful exclamation hit you with a wave of affection. You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and you could feel it working.

“Well, I don’t know about that—”

“I do.”

The conversation subsided as you both took a moment to eat the food before you.

“This is delicious,” you said in between bites. “Did you get it from Sicilian Cafe?”

Brian shook his head, mouth still full of salad. “No,” he swallowed, “I actually made it from scratch.”

You were awed. “Really?” He nodded, feeling slightly guilty for not including the part where the culinary student, who lived on the floor below, helped only after having him cry to her for several minutes, but he didn’t find it to be a necessary detail. He liked your amazement, it made him feel good.

“You’re quite impressive, Mister May.”

Brian took a swig from his wine, finishing off the contents of his glass. Noticing, you picked up the bottle and handed it to him. He thanked you.

“Would you mind topping me off too? ’S been a long week.” Brian complied.

In the middle of taking a drink, something occurred to him. “Oh!” He spilled some wine on the floor. You jumped up to grab a rag to clean it up. Brian took it from you and dabbed at the spillage.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be. I’m just amazed you’re actually cleaning something up,” you teased. “Anyway, what were you thinking about that caused such a frenzy?”

“Well,” he started, draping the rag over the arm of his chair. “The boys and I have been working with these great guys, y’know, Mott the Hoople?” You nodded, vaguely remembering talking to Freddie about them. “And they’ve asked us to tour with them!” Your jaw dropped.

“They what? When?!”

“It was made official a couple days ago, and we’re starting in Leeds in November.”

You got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around Brian. He pulled you onto his lap so he could hold you tighter. You stroked his hair.

“Oh, Bri, I am so proud of you.” As you whispered into his ear, you could feel some tears welling up in your eyes. You pulled back for a second, to look at him. “See? I told you, you were meant to do great things.” Brian gripped onto one of your wrists and brought your hand closer to him. Before he could stop himself, he laid a tender kiss on top of your thumb. Startled, you abruptly pulled your hand away, not expecting the action. He looked upset, or guilty, and you couldn’t decide which.

Maybe he’s getting caught up in the excitement, you thought, writing it off as an intimate gesture shared between good friends in an intimate moment. You got up from where you sat, but shot Brian a reassuring smile, and began to pick up the empty plates. He sprung out of the chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to do—” he cut himself off, “I made dessert, too.”

You put the dishes back down on the table, unsure what to do.

A pause. You hesitated for a bit while debating the notion, but gave into your cravings. “What did you make?”

Brian smiled devilishly. “Red velvet.” He knew you loved the cream cheese frosting, and he was proud that he could actually make it by himself.

You sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re too good to me, Brian May. God, what did I do to deserve you?” Brian blushed and turned to go into the kitchen. 

Once you were alone, you finally recognized that music was still playing on Brian’s old record player. It was a collection of Ella Fitzgerald standards, one of your favorite albums. Your father gifted it to you for your thirteenth birthday. Wishing you had paid more attention, you could tell you missed most of the tracks. The jazz swelling through the air had a physical effect on you, you found new energy to sway and sing along.

In the kitchen, Brian brought out a lopsided cake covered in lumpy frosting. The flowers that were originally envisioned appeared to be pink globs of disappointment. He frowned, thinking it was glorious before, but now, he only felt embarrassment at the idea of presenting it to you. With a sad sigh and a small shrug, he took out a knife and cut two slices. From where he stood, Brian could hear your voice softly carrying the tune of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” and the faint pattering of your feet dancing across the creaky wooden planks. The thought of you joyfully moving to the rhythm in your skimpy sleep shorts, and your damp hair twisted up in a messy ‘do was enough to jolt him from his pitiful mood.

When he came out with the small dessert plates in hand, Brian was overcome at the sight of you. You had your eyes closed, your hips swaying to and fro, your feet occasionally making steps from one side to the other. He leaned against the wall closest to him and began to sing along with you. You noticed the shift in sound and glanced at Brian.

He started to sing Louis Armstrong’s harmony, so you joined as Ella came in. You walked up to him to take the slices of cake and put them on the coffee table. As you did, Brian came closer and you turned to take his hand in yours. He laughed a little as you grooved more playfully, smiling at your touch. You let him go to show off some disco moves in slow motion, fitting them to the tempo of the song. Brian tried to mirror your actions, but to no avail. His own movements were clumsy and looked very unnatural for him, so you reached out to him again to take him into your arms. Brian was more comfortable that way. Since it was the last song on the record, you let it play through to a full stop. 

You released your friend from your grasp to adjust your top. Brian shyly moved to his chair to await your company before touching his dessert. You lounged on the sofa, dangling your clean feet over the arm nearest to him. He offered you the plate with your piece of cake on it, which you happily accepted. Grabbing your fork, you shoveled a portion into your mouth without studying the decorations. Brian felt a little relieved that you weren’t interested in observing the slice.

“This is delicious,” you said with half a bite still in the process of being consumed. Brian usually despised loud chewing noises, but he overlooked them, enjoying your delight.

“I do what I can.”

You were so grateful for this random little “celebration” he put on for you. You didn’t even question the candlelit meal for a second.

“So, how were the boys? Just as thrilled as you?”

Brian chuckled. “Roger and Fred were practically bouncing off the walls.” He intentionally didn’t mention John.

“Do you know the first date yet? I could try to request the day off.” You scrambled for another bite.

“I am not quite sure. I think it’s the fifth or sixth.”

“Well, I could come with you to the studio tomorrow to confirm. ’Ve been given a break until Sunday.”

Brian shifted his position. “We’re actually not in the studio tomorrow.”

You were disappointed, but tried to hide it. Brian could tell. He cleared his throat.

“But we are going to do some shopping, if you’d be interested.”

That perked you right up again.

“Yeah? All of you?”

“As if Freddie would let us pick out our own performance wear,” Brian scoffed. You nodded in agreement. “He says we’ve got to be more ‘glam’.”

You blew out, raising your eyebrows, and nodded again with more subtlety. “I wouldn’t say you or John have the flashiest of wardrobes.” Brian narrowed his eyes with indignation. “Now Roger…” You shrugged, indicating that you considered his fashion to be more adventurous. “But I think Freddie could only be described as ‘extravagant’, ‘glam’ is too mundane.”

Brian loosened up at the notion. “I think he would prefer that, too.”

You finished your dessert and stood up to clear the table. Brian got up to help you, taking the large dinner plates while you grabbed the wine glasses and dessert dishes. You directed him to put everything on the countertop, and turned on the water for it to warm.

“Stella could come too, if you’d like,” he tried to steer the conversation back to the outing.

You snorted, not looking up from the plate you were washing. “You know how she feels about Roger.”

“But she loves judging fashion.”

“As much as she despises him?”

“But she could judge his fashion.” Brian had a gleam in his eye, and it didn’t stem from the excitement that the promise of dish drying provided.

You stopped what you were doing to face him. “I think she’ll pass.” Brian threw his hands up to show defeat, waving the white dish rag in surrender. You returned to your task. 

The sound of the faucet was the only noise for a few moments.

“How was work today, Y/N?” He changed the subject, knowing only what Stella had told him over the phone about the past week. You groaned.

“Hellish.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Not really. Doctor Tead was a total rotter, as usual.” You thought about it some more. “Doctor Carlisle called me by my name.”

Brian was perplexed by the oddity of the interaction, until he remembered the complete division between doctors and nurses. But he hadn’t heard this name before. “Who’s that?”

“He’s one of the younger members of the medical staff. Strange. Great physician.” You paused. “The children adore him. He even lets them call him Arty.”

“Was he there when Tead was around?”

“No, he’d only just arrived as I was leaving. We have wonky timing like that. One of us is always going out as the other is coming in.”

“Does he usually call you that?”

You shook your head. “First time. He even tried to get me to call him Arthur.”

“Maybe he wants to recruit you to join him at the Round Table.”

You threw the sponge into its basket after finishing your cleaning duties. “I think I’d make a great Sir Lancelot.” You puffed out your chest.

“Lady Guinevere,” Brian considered.

“Because I’m a girl?”

“I was thinking I would be Lady Guinevere. You’re the handsome knight who steals me away.”

“Ooh, I don’t know,” you tutted. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of anything between you and Doctor Carlisle.” Brian looked unamused, but he didn’t really mind. He secretly loved the silly banter.

“We better blow all the candles out before we both forget and go to bed.” You shifted the topic of conversation again.

Brian’s face grew red at the mention of it. He wanted to forget where he had planned the evening to go. Before you could even make a step in the direction of the living room, Brian darted out of the kitchen. It was the fastest you’d seen him move in a while. You followed shortly behind, but most of the flames had been put out by the time you joined him.

“Brian?” You piped up. He looked up at you. “Why so many candles?”

So close. He was so close to avoiding the subject. Thankfully, he could think well on his feet.

“Just thought you might appreciate some softer lighting after a long day in the hospital.”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess?”

You accepted his answer, blowing on the last of the flaming wicks, and took a seat.

“I think I should go to bed,” Brian began rushing off to his bedroom.

“It’s barely even dark outside.”

He stopped. “Today’s been longer than you could imagine.”

You were unimpressed. “Is that a challenge?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“I’m simply saying I don’t have your motivation—”

“You were able to be at home all day, lounging like some lizard on a hot rock.” Brian laughed at your odd simile. You cracked a smile too. “Please? We hardly get to just sit and enjoy time without having to be anywhere, anymore.”

“If you insist, love.” He moved to return to his designated chair, but before he could sit down, you patted down on the cushion next to you. He acted nonchalant, taking his time before joining you.

“So, when are we going out on the town tomorrow?” You tossed your legs over Brian’s lap, and leaned back to lay on one of the throw pillows you had picked out years before.

“I know Fred will want to be up and at ’em early, but the rest of us probably aren’t planning to get out of bed until at least eleven.”

You were content with that. “I can do eleven.”

“Fortunately for us, he can’t drive. So he can’t just show up unannounced.”

“Unless he gets Roger to do his bidding,” you said dryly. You couldn’t forget the time Freddie had walked in on your floury wrestling match not long ago.

“I don’t think anyone could get Rog rallied and presentable before ten,” Brian joked, the thought going over his head.

“Then let’s hope for that. Nothing before ten.”

_______________

September 28

The morning came all too quickly. However, you and Brian were ready to go before you even got a call from the others, telling you to hurry yourselves. Out of the lot of them, Brian was notorious for sleeping in. However, Freddie was the one who was consistently arriving late. Unless he was the one organizing the outing.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine while waiting for Brian to locate his trainers.

“Did you look under the mound of laundry?” You shouted out to him. You could hear a grunt of umbrage, causing you to wrinkle your nose in response. “Well?”

Brian appeared through the entry, looking triumphant with a black pair of dirty Converse hanging by their laces from his fingers.

“And where were they?” You returned your focus on the images in front of you. 

Brian sighed. “Under the laundry,” he mumbled. He kneeled to lace up the shoes.

“Interesting.” You tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and set your feet on the ground. He stood at the same time. “Ready, m’lady?” You offered the crook of your arm to Brian. He scrunched his face in confusion. “Guinevere,” you elaborated. His mouth formed an O with remembrance, bobbing his head lazily.

“Did you call by Roger’s place, letting ’im know we’re on our way?”

“Yes, a couple minutes ago. Fred thought you should forget about those old things,” you sneered as you pointed to Brian’s feet, “but I told him to forget about that awful peacock hat of his, and it shut him up nicely.”

“Fred was there?”

“And John was too. I figure they spent the night.”

Brian brought his shoulders up slightly. “Convenient for us, that means we only have to make one stop.” He grabbed the keys from the counter. “Suppose we better go.”

You beat him to the door and swung it open, moving into the hall. Brian slammed it behind him, dropping his keys simultaneously. You both bent down to grab them, and again, you beat him to it. But his hand engulfed yours anyway, not fully thinking nor looking. You breathed softly, bringing your sights up to his eyes.

Hazel.

You smiled.

I always forget.

He returned the smile, his own breath hitching in his throat.

The stillness was interrupted by someone stomping up the stairs. It was the neighbor whose flat was across from yours. You never could recall his name. He looked down at the pair of you and blew air through his nose, humor crinkling around his eyes.

“How many people does it take to grab keys off the floor?”

“Two, apparently,” you sassed, still locked in your crouching position with Brian. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel that his gaze never left your face.

The humor faded and your neighbor scowled as he pushed his own door open, going inside and closing it without another look. With a sigh of satisfaction, you got up from the ground, bringing Brian with you.

“Lonely sot,” you murmured to Brian, who tossed his head back with silent laughter.

* * *

“Look who’s here,” Freddie chirped, widening the door to Roger’s flat for you and Brian to enter through. Brian spoke a quiet greeting, but Fred ignored him and wrapped himself around you. He pressed a kiss on your forehead. “How are you, darling?”

You sunk further into his grasp. “I’m alright, Fred. Missed you.”

He pulled out of the embrace to grab your shoulders, looking you square in the eye. “You can’t leave us alone again for that long, Y/N. We nearly strangled each other every chance we got.”

“Yeah, a medical professional would be helpful if one of us actually went through with it,” Roger chimed in, moving Freddie out of the way to get to you. He winked at you before pulling you into his arms. “Glad to see you.”

You giggled. “You’re all talking like I dropped off the face of the planet, or something. I was busy with work, you know that.” You pressed your palm into one of Roger’s shoulders, playing. You hadn’t said anything to him or Freddie about what they missed on John’s birthday, and highly doubted Brian or Deaky himself would bring it up. Work was your excuse, and they didn’t question it.

You swiveled your head around to find John standing alone, halfway across the room. He gave a small wave before slowly making his way over to the rest of you. “Hi, Y/N.” John looked down at his feet. You noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes. 

Is he not coming?

With timidity, Deaky pecked your cheek quickly, but not quick enough for Brian to miss it. 

He clenched his jaw.

“You boys ready to go?” You tore your focus from John to address the others.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been ready to give Brian a new wardrobe since the day I met him.”

Brian looked exasperated by Freddie’s remark, but you and Roger couldn’t hold back your chuckles.

“No Mary?” You asked Fred.

“She won’t be joining us. Has work to do, or some other nonsense,” he joked. You smirked.

In the brief moments of your reunion with Roger, John, and Freddie, you already felt more emotionally fulfilled. Brian saw the content on your face.

You turned back to John. “Where are your shoes?” He looked dumbfounded. You looked at Brian. “Maybe they’re under your dirty clothes, too.” He rolled his eyes, but all in good fun.

Freddie gasped dramatically. “Is it really that bad?” You gave an overexaggerated nod.

“It is not!”

“Ah, shut up, Bri.” Roger batted a hand at the taller man.

“You’ve got room to talk,” Brian said sarcastically, motioning his arms to the entirety of Roger’s flat. “At least I’m just messy and not dirty.”

“Is there even a fucking difference?”

“There is a very important distinction!”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“One involves messes and the other involves dirt!”

You and Freddie exchanged looks, amused by the childish tiff. He glanced at the clock on the table and cleared his throat.

“Dears?” Freddie spoke calmly and politely. Brian and Roger stepped back from each other and looked at him. “We should be going.” You were dazzled by his sunny behavior. The other two grumbled as they started for the door. Freddie put an arm around both of their shoulders, saying things you didn’t care to listen to.

You walked closer to John. 

“Hi,” you whispered kindly.

“Hello.” He spoke with a far away look in his eyes.

“How’re you?”

Deaky looked back down to his feet. You were discouraged, seeing him appear uncomfortable even after a month of evasion.

“I’m sorry.” He wouldn’t look at you.

Your heart broke a little for him. You reached for one of the limp hands hanging to his side, keeping it firmly in your own.

“It’s alright, sunshine,” you muttered. “I know you didn’t mean it.” Those words caused him to meet your gaze. John opened his mouth to object, but didn’t say anything when he saw the compassion in your eyes. 

He knew you were lying. 

You knew he had told the truth.

The door closed. You both turned to see what happened. Only Freddie remained in the flat with you. He had his arms crossed and a sly look scrawled across his face.

“I managed to get TweedleDee and TweedleDum out to bring the car around.” He sighed. “They even argued about whose car we were using.”

John looked horrified.

“Don’t worry, Deaky, I didn’t hear a thing.”

Neither of you could tell if he was being sincere or not.

A lull filled the space. You weren’t sure what to do, or say.

“Who are TweedleDee and TweedleDum?”

“Love, haven’t you seen that Disney film?” You both shook your heads. Freddie grinned. 

“It’s a fantastic trip.”

* * *

The ride into town was long.

You resented being squished in the back between Roger and Deaky. Brian had won the argument over who would get to drive, and Freddie insisted on riding up front next to him, claiming it was his “birthright as the oldest”. You relented, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go up against him.

John mumbled to himself, “Still think we should’ve taken the train.” You mentally agreed with him, but sat in silence.

Periodically, Roger would ask you something about the hospital, reminding you that he once was a biology student, studying to be a practitioner of dentistry. You were happy to engage in conversation, enjoying the chance to talk about it with someone you didn’t work with. Brian was a brilliant man, and understood the concepts you mentioned, but sometimes you felt as though he thought too much when you spoke to him about medicine; he would often respond with a tidbit about physics.

Brian glanced in the rear view mirror to see the back seat, and saw Roger’s arm resting on his leg, his hand cradling his chin. You talked with excitement in your voice and eyes, causing Roger to hang onto every word you said. John was staring out the window, unresponsive. Brian was so distracted by the scene behind him, he forgot about the world in front of him. Freddie tapped him on the shoulder, making him snap out of it, and pointed to the road ahead, full of traffic. Brian slammed on the brakes, causing Beatrix to lurch and let out a concerning noise. Roger, not paying attention, hit his head on the back of Freddie’s seat.

“Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “I thought you were supposed to be a good driver, May.”

“Still better than you, Taylor,” Brian huffed.

“Oh, stop it, you two.” Freddie sounded playful, but you all could tell he was growing tired of the bickering.

“So,” you spoke up, more cheerful than your company. “Where exactly are you bringing us, Fred?”

“Excellent question, Y/N! None of these simpletons even bothered to ask.” He glared into the mirror, pointedly at Roger, then to John. “There’s this lovely little shop where my friend Minnie works. She said she could get us good deals on the merchandise.”

“That’s great!”

No one else said a thing. Brian reached for the knob to turn up the radio, but Freddie slapped his hand away.

“I was also thinking we could go for lunch, but only if I see some spirits rise.”

“Eh, if they want to mope, maybe just you and I will go.” You patted Freddie’s shoulder.

John lifted his head from the window and sat up straight, the height difference between the two of you suddenly very prominent. “I think that sounds nice.” He hadn’t said much during the drive, except the occasional sassy comment made under his breath that only you were able to hear. You smiled at his change in demeanor.

* * *

There were velvet trousers in every hue. Satin shirts with zany patterns. Jewelry of varying designs. It was sort of what you imagined Freddie’s paradise to be like.

You dragged Brian by the hand to go through some tops you thought he’d be fond of. He was never hesitant about more feminine styles. He loved lacy things. You held up a black shirt with large sleeves up against your body, trying to get him to imagine what it would look like on a body. Brian had a moment of deja vu.

--October 25, 1961--

“Which one do you like better?” Brian asked you, holding up a flowy purple dress, followed by a longer blue one, then switching back and forth between them.

In your hands, you held a delicate white frock. The fabric glistened in the sunlight from the window behind you. You watched Brian twirl the garments around for your benefit, insisting it would help you “envision the silhouette” better. You giggled when he lifted the hanger of the purple one over his head, setting it around his neck.

“Well, I think that one suits you nicely.”

“Ya think so?” He craned his neck downward to get a better look at it from his angle. “Think it works with my womanly figure?” Brian shimmied for you, letting the dress swing around in front of his gangly frame. You put the white one back on its rack and gave him a cheer, accompanied by an enthusiastic round of applause. 

The other patrons of the shop glared at the two rowdy teenagers disrupting the quiet atmosphere. Neither of you cared, wrapped up in the fun you were having. Brian only stopped dancing when he noticed a young man, who appeared to be several years older than himself, smiling at him. He was with his girlfriend, at least Brian thought it was his girlfriend, who was sifting through a section of evening wear. She would hold up a glittering gown to see his reaction, and if he seemed to like it, she’d drape it over her forearm with the others he approved of. Everytime he said something kind, the young woman would gaze up at him with pure adoration. Brian hoped others thought you looked at him like that.

“I just don’t know if I could pull it off.”

Brian came out of his trance to focus on you. He hung the blue dress back where he found it. “What do you mean?”

You bit your cheek.

“It’s certainly beautiful, but I don’t think it would look as nice on me as is does on the hanger.” You lowered your eyes, feeling vulnerable. 

Being in a place full of gorgeous women with attire to match made you feel self-conscious. You thought that puberty hadn’t been kind to you, you felt like a stranger in your own skin. In fact, you only worked up the nerve to go in when Brian said he would try on dresses with you. 

For once, Brian felt like he wasn’t the frightened one.

“Oh, don’t be so fucking ridiculous.”

Your mouth was agape, you were shocked by the words that escaped his lips. He scrambled to find the words he meant to say, realizing that wasn’t a great start.

“A hanger’s only an object. Nothing can look beautiful on a hanger.” He shifted his weight into his right hip. “At least, not in comparison to the beauty it can reflect when it’s on someone.” He coughed, then lowered his voice. “On you.”

At this point, Brian knew he felt something for you. A little more than friendship. Or a lot more. He came to terms with the emotions some months ago, but he had hoped it would have subsided by now. 

A schoolboy crush on his best friend shouldn’t last longer than a few months, right?

Teary eyed, you reached up your arms to loop them around the nape of his neck. Brian ducked down a bit for you to get a better hold, letting you pull him closer to you.

“I love you, Bri,” you whispered.

He melted where he stood. Could it be?

“You’re the best friend I could ever imagine.”

Oh.

“God, what did I do to deserve you?”

The words rang through his ears.

“You came into my life,” Brian whispered back. “That’s all.”

--1973--

“And I think this would go nicely with that pair of velvets you own.” You could see that Brian was in a daze. “Well?”

He blinked slowly, bringing his drooping eyelids up halfway to look at you. “Hmm?”

“What do you think?”

He was brought back into the present.

“Oh, I think it’s great.” He wasn’t even sure what “it” was.

You beamed. “Good! Now, Roger’s trying some stuff on. You should go join him in the back.” You unloaded the items from your arms and transferred them to Brian. Then you pointed his shoulders in the right direction.

Brian marched to the fitting rooms, finding a half naked Roger flexing in a mirror. Brian stopped in his tracks, but Roger was unfazed. 

“Whaddya think?” He posed, showing off the obnoxious pants he was wearing, paired with nothing but a fringed vest.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Did Fred pick that out for you?”

“No,” Roger continued staring at his reflection. “This is all me.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” Brian scoffed as he pushed past the blond and drew the curtain to the dressing area. Roger came in behind him, not caring that it was meant to be a personal space.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Well, for starters, you’re in my fitting room.” Brian frowned.

“Oh, don’t start that with me.” Roger pointed a finger at Brian. “You’ve been moody all day.”

Brian snorted at the remark. “I could say the same about you!”

Roger stared at his friend with dispassion. Then something dawned on him. “Brian?”

The guitarist fell silent.

“Did you and Y/N get in a fight or somethin’?”

“No. We didn’t fight.”

Roger had a thought, but dismissed it with laughter. Brian’s scowl hardened, making Roger feel required to say it aloud. “Sorry, mate, I was just thinkin’ you were too angry to have fucked.” Brian’s nose twitched. Roger stopped laughing. “Did you and Y/N fuck?” His voice was at a much lower pitch.

“No,” Brian growled through gritted teeth. “It’s not like that between us. You know that.”

Roger had a gleam in his eye. “But do you want it to be?” Brian’s expression softened, giving him all the confirmation he needed.

“Not exactly.” Brian confided, shifting uncomfortably in the small stall made for one person.

“Then what exactly?”

Brian’s heart was pounding. In twelve years, he had only told one person what he was about to tell Roger.

* * *

Roger stood silent for a moment, taking in what he just heard.

“Twelve years?”

Brian blushed, bashful from the level of vulnerability he had reached with his bandmate.

“Twelve bloody years? Why haven’t you ever made a move?”

“I never seemed right. We were too young. Then she was with somebody. Then she moved away for five years. When would I have done anything?”

Roger was frustrated by his friend’s stupidity. “You’ve wasted a monumental about of time failing to do anything.”

Brian sighed. “I’ve never had the courage. And then I find out you’ve kissed her. Doesn’t she mean something to you, too?” He didn’t even want to think about John.

“Of course Y/N does. She means a great deal to me, but not like that. It was one moment. You’ve had a lifetime of moments.” Roger paused. “You love her, yeah?”

“Irretrievably.”

“Then do something about it.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Sad News Re: The Watchalong

It’s ON HIATUS Until November. But Don’t Worry, I’ll Be Back!

Alright guys, I’ve been meaning to pre-write this post because I knew the day was coming soon, I just didn’t expect THIS SOON. This post is mostly about the Watchalong, but also about where I’ve been for the past month. 

So here’s the Situation:

So I can’t go into über-details because of the nature of it, but a month ago I took on a new temporary position within a different branch of my employer to help the other branch out since they lost their graphic designer at a critical time and they were in a panic. This new position was going to gradually merge into a “long hours” and then, for everyone at both branches, a 24-7 operation, where we all have to work every day, holidays and weekends included, for long hours until November. 

Well, on Tuesday, we were pulled into a meeting and were told that we were basically on-call now every day (since we’re the main branch), including me who has the important job of making them look good. All by myself, LOL. All the embargoes were lifted over the weekend so now they’re allowed to order custom designs and rush orders. 

Because of this, I have done late nights every night this week, which in turn means I haven’t had time AT ALL to figure out how Kast (Rabbit’s replacement) works, since it’s an app-based streaming (instead of browser which they don’t have implemented yet) and as of RIGHT NOW, I just don’t have time to help my lovelies figure out Kast, because I literally get home now at 8:30PM, file my blog, and go to bed to get up for work again at 6:00AM (as I write this, it’s midnight on Thursday night, because I just got home at 9, had dinner, did a couple quick changes on my freelance work and THEN spent 2 hours filing my blogs).

This really bloody upsets me because August is my birthday month (*COUGH AUGUST 27 COUGH*) and I REALLY wanted to celebrate it with you guys SO MUCH before I knew that I was going to be completely unavailable on the weekends.

See, if Rabbit would have lasted ONE MORE MONTH in its previous state, I would have been able to at least squeeze in one or two more movies. But right now, learning a new program to ensure its safe for my lovelies, and writing down those instructions in my posts, I don’t have time for, ON TOP OF the freelance work I HAVE to get done before September.

So I am OFFICIALLY calling hiatus on the Saturday Night Watchalong until the first week of November due to work.

This isn’t something I wanted to do, but unfortunately, I CAN’T guarantee availability now on Saturdays when my boss basically said “you’re on call 24-7 until end of October”. This isn’t to say that I won’t try to squeeze a random one in here or there because I REALLY REALLY love my watchalongs because it’s the only social time I have all week, but that will be on the presumption that people already know how to use Kast. I’m HOPING that by November they’ll have their web version available like Rabbit’s was and we can go back to that, LOL, but I will, between now and November, test out Kast and see what I can do with it :)

Also between now and November, people seemed interested in me having a discord server for GO and Sherlock; I may also, in my limited free time, do that as well and set one up, and hope that they’ll also eventually allow Macs to host discord streams, LOL. Let me know if you guys still want that discord server... then I can at least still have that. I just worry because I’m barely on the other servers I’m a part of now, and I know that a “feature” of the discord is guaranteed chatting with Steph, LOL, when, you know, I’m garbage and am barely on it. I’ll see. It’s a lot of work to run a discord and I would need mods and content controllers.  I’m not THAT awesome, LOL.

Anyway, so the TL:DR of this is I Work too Much and Have no life, and I’m sadly having to disappear for awhile while my job’s future hangs in the balance. Oh yeah, I didn’t mention that little nugget: I may lose my ACTUAL job after October, so that’s awesome. You guys might have me a shit tonne after October LOL. I knew this was coming 2 years ago, so it’s my fault for being lazy, LOL.

So, the anticipated return date for the Watchalong is Nov. 2. November 9 if I have to clean my office on the Saturday, LOL.

Anyway, Lovelies, I’m still here, and I’ll still be running this blog as best as I can (I’ve stayed up until midnight every night this week to ensure you guys constantly have new content on both my GO and Johnlock blogs because I love you guys so much), but I also don’t want to burn myself out. If these two months are anything like the last time I did this, I’m going to be doing 14 hour days, and I’m... yeah. I need sleep. 

Love you all <3 I don’t want y’all to think I’m abandoning you, it’s just unfortunately my real life where I make money takes precedence. <3 Running this and my other blog to the extent that I do are full time jobs in of themselves, but I’m only one Stephie. <3

[my-salty-life]

The news of them made my stomach churn: the girl - a sophomore - left school after the rumors of their relationship spread, and I was left facing the sickening memories that seemed inescapable after receiving them a year ago.

    It began at the start of my junior year; my favorite professor asked me to be his new work study. The previous one had decided to set the school sponsors ablaze with his righteous fury because how dare the English department of a Baptist institution require upper-level English majors read The Catcher in the Rye, a book with one-too-many “GD’s” for his taste, all the while playing Skyrim and boasting about the talent of Marvel movies in spite of their own inclusions of the phrase. Needless to say, the boy soon left the school, ironically opting for a secular institution.

    The offer to fill the place of the English professor’s assistant seemed too good to be true. My previous assignment as the English tutor left me worn, and I was eager to try a different work study assignment. The semester started off well; while the job was not as quiet as I hoped it would be (my professor was very social), it was still enjoyable to assist in various research projects and grade papers. I grew to trust this professor, and he was one of the first people I told about my bulimia. He agreed to help monitor any food that I ate while working.

    My recovery from bulimia was a slow burn, but it quickly worsened during dress rehearsal week of a play I was in. I let the stress overtake me and was hospitalized due to low potassium levels the day after the play. It was during this hospital stay that I received a text from my professor. He asked that I visit his house so that he could give me some soup that he made to help with my stomach (after struggling with bulimia for nine years, my stomach had grown sensitive). I was foolish and agreed.

    That was the second step.

He hugged me when I arrived. It sent an uneasy feeling throughout my body, but I thanked him for the soup and words of worry before leaving. My face felt hot with embarrassment, and I told myself that nothing was meant by it; friends hug each other all the time, and he probably considered me such. 

More signs arose throughout the next few weeks, and yet I shrugged off each one - a hand on my shoulder, his moving my hand to his shoulder when he needed comfort over losing one of his older professors, his hands brushing over mine for a second too long whenever he handed me documents - I shrugged it off as my being too sensitive. I told myself he was just a touchy person, and I didn't understand most relationships, so it wasn't anything major. 

The final warning sign was perhaps the most blatant, but my mind was too set on the professor-student friendship. 

The date is still branded on my memory - it was the day of the second anniversary of my dad's death: December 12, 2017.  He said we should celebrate the end of the semester after my finals and offered to treat his work-study to dinner. I didn't read between the lines. He explained it as a boss would to an employee that he was treating to dinner. It isn't until after the fact that I realize how stupid I was. 

I realized what it was as soon as I sat in the car. His hand went to mine, and my senses turned cold. It occurred to me that this was a date, but I was far from assertive and couldn't find the voice to say no, so I went along with it. I let him hold my hand, I carried on a polite conversation, and I felt dirty the entire time. I remember asking myself how I could be such an idiot as I tried to will myself to speak up.

I failed.

By the end of the “date,” I felt ashamed. I let this professor eleven years my senior hold my hand. I wanted to leave, and yet I wanted no one to see me, so I told him I could walk home. He stopped by his house. I followed, though every bit of me felt sick. I could feel the sashimi trying to creep its way out of my stomach, and I went to the restroom as soon as I arrived. 

I returned, and candles were around his front room. He asked me to sit. I sat down, and his arm snaked around my waist, his thumb burning circles on my hip. It was clearly meant to be a sensual atmosphere. I still feel the guilt of being unable to speak up; I went along with the hand holding and, by the end of the sickening date, held my hand open for him as I saw it as what he wantwed. I didn't want to hurt him. Now I realize that the primary reason for this fear was because of my viewing him as a friend. I thought I had brought this on myself for not speaking up sooner; it was my fault for failing to tell him to stop, and I knew that if I said no, I would lose someone that I considered a trusted friend. I was trying to explain my way out of this situation.

Looking back, “trusted” was a load of crap.

It was not until he tried to kiss me that I gained my voice.

“I don’t want to kiss anyone unless I know I’m going to marry them.” It was and remains a true statement.

    He seemed shocked, and the sound of my phone moved him away. I felt relief at seeing my mom’s text, and I lied amd said that I needed to go because my sister was wondering where I was. He said something about dating, and I said I needed time to decide, only for him to respond by saying that I need to decide right away. I managed to give myself twenty-four hours of freedom, and he stopped me before I had a chance to leave, offering to give me a ride back.

I told him no, that I’d walk home, and that I needed some fresh air. He said okay, but gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving, and I had to keep from crying. It somehow made me feel even dirtier, like a part of me was being inappropriate while also being cruel for not speaking up. 

The smile he gave afterward still makes me anxious; the TV never stays on when a person makes that expression. It was meant to be a kind smile, but it only made me sicker. 

I remember going back to my dorm and crying in the shower before curling up in bed. My sister was my roommate at the time, and she recognized the negative emotions seeping from me. I didn’t tell her what happened, and she didn’t ask; she simply came up and rubbed my back as I shook silent tears. I found the will to tell an online friend that I’ve known since high school, and she was a huge help through that time; I fell asleep talking to her at around three in the morning.

The next day, I went to the professor’s office, going no further than the door frame. I told him no and left. He emailed me a few times and tried to approach me in the school lobby, but I never expanded on anything until months later, when I sent an email about how I couldn’t stand his touch. He began avoiding me after that. I chose to never report the incident, feeling like I was partially at fault due to my never telling him to stop. It wasn't until the situation with the student occurred that I was able to report what the professor did to me, and even then it wasn't until I had graduated from college, not wanting to report while a student out of fear of the rumors spiraling. The school had the professor removed from campus within 48 hours. 

 I still struggle with the Lord’s telling me to forgive him, and yet I’m trying.He married that student in August, and today marks two years since the incident involving me, and four years since my dad's death. May the professor somehow learn to grow closer to God through this, and may I do the same. 

[mystery-star]

Buddy - Fred Weasley (Epilogue)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of death

Words: 4211

A/N: This is a (long) list of events that happened after the end of the Buddy series because I still had soooo many ideas for the story and I wanted to share them XD. Hope you like this Headcanon-like style. Consider it as a very belated birthday present, @rochelle-the-ravenclaw^^

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 |  Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Epilogue

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

You almost had no peace in the following days because everyone came over to see Fred and celebrate with you

And it was a huge deal in the medias

Suddenly “The boy who lived” was snows of yesteryear

Now everyone spoke of “The retrieved Retriever”

You couldn’t go anywhere without people talking to you

And it was the best advertising for the shop

According to Fred, their sales were increased by about 220%

There was so much to do that you and Mrs Weasley had to come and help

Also Ron and Lee Jordan helped in the evening after they finished work

The twins almost couldn’t keep up with the production

In the end they hired two more sellers so that they could focus on producing new supplies

And experimenting with new ideas

But after two stressful months, the whole fuss about Fred died down anyway

And soon the flocks of customers stayed away as well

Not that the shop wouldn’t be crowded anymore

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes still was as popular as ever

Still it was a welcome change

-

But it seemed the twins weren’t ready do take a pass on the extra earnings

They bought Zonko’s shop in Hogsmeade anyway

Goodbye repose

During two days in which they let the shop in Diagon Alley closed, their new premises were equipped with everything they needed

Each twin would be a manager of one shop

George in Diagon Alley

And Fred in Hogsmeade

Your husband betrothed even bought the rooms above the new shop as well, as a place where you three (soon four) could live

George didn’t like that you’d live on the other end of Great Britain

“Stop whining George, We’re only a handful of floo powder or a portkey away. And we all can apparate”

But the younger twin still decided to pout about the decision

When you moved out from the flat in Diagon Alley, he didn’t even help you

And he threatened he’d never come to visit you

But it was George

He almost spent more time at your new place than at his own

Just in time for the next Hogsmeade weekend, the new shop opened

Of course the younger twin was here to help you while their employees would take care of the shop in London

Even Ron had come to help you in Hogsmeade

Better said to see Hermione

Fred threatened to throw both of them out if the snogging didn’t end anytime soon

The students LOVED the shop

And the twins, let’s be honest

Mostly Fred though

He was always surrounded by a group of kids that wanted to know everything about his return and what being a dog was like

If you were completely honest it made you a little jealous

This was so different from when they interacted with him in his dog-form

-

Speaking of dog-form: a little after the new shop was opened, the twins decided to start the process to become animagi

Since they had to keep a mandrake leaf in their mouth for a whole month, Fred almost never kissed you properly in fear he’d lose it

(Because then he’d have to start over again)

George would always tease him about it and tell him to make sure he wouldn’t lose the leaf

But funnily it was George who had to start over after he swallowed the leaf when he got drunk on his birthday

Needless to say Fred laughed him out of court

(Almost lost the leaf himself because of that though)

But he managed to keep it in his mouth from full moon to full moon and could continue by brewing the potion

Then he had to wait for the next lightning storm to complete the whole process and become an animagus

-

But first there was the anniversary of the battle

It was the first time in a long time you remembered that you had actually lost Fred a year ago

Making you even happier to have him back

Of course there was a memorial in Hogwarts and speeches were made

And someone forced or persuaded Fred to hold one too

The rest of the event was merrier

Although you were still surrounded by people who wanted to know more about Fred’s story or see Chris

It did good to be reunited with old classmates and catch up on your lives

Much to Fred’s dismay you talked a lot to your ex-boyfriend whom you hadn’t seen since Fred shooed him out of the shop almost two years ago

And typically Fred, he had to make it clear you were his

What made you angry

“But if I say something about the flocks of women that surround you while wanting to know everything about Buddy I am the jealous beast!”

“That’s something different. I never was in a relationship with them”

“Oh and what about Angelina? Shouldn’t I be concerned about her?”

“That was one date! And the only reason I asked her was because you’ve been in a relationship with someone else at the time”

You sighed and decided to drop it

Later in the evening, Skeeter barged in and wanted to know if she could write an article about the fate of people who lost someone in the wizarding war

Oh wonder, she chose you…

But Fred knew how to handle it

“Listen, I know you’re bitten by the bug with this whole story but if you don’t stop bugging us and don’t bug off right now I might let something slip the next time I’m at the Ministry. Which will be when I’m going to get registered as an animagus.”

It didn’t surprise you that she left

And it also was clear that her next choice was none other than Harry Potter

Who conveniently was sitting with the rest of the Weasleys

(Ginny)

A simple ‘Oi beetlebrain, don’t put a bug in his ear’ from Fred was enough to make her leave the Great Hall

-

In the middle of May Fred could complete the process of becoming an animagus

As you had almost imagined, his animal form was indeed Buddy

Even though Fred was happy about that, he also found it a shame that he wasn’t another animal

But after a while he saw the advantages in Buddy being his animagus form

“Now I can keep my clothes on and you don’t need to put me into ugly clothes before I change into a human. And I’m finally not depended on you to transform me”

(Because George had developed the habit to transform Fred into a dog when he was getting annoying over the past months

(Needless to say it pissed Fred off and made sure to get his revenge))

And after the registration he never let a chance to piss you off by using his animagus ability pass by

But mostly he transformed when he wanted something from you, to have more convincing puppy eyes

And it worked damn well

-

Mid-June George finally became an animagus too

The result was interesting

He was a brown haired dog as well

But not a Chesapeake Bay Retriever like Fred

(A muggle veterinarian told you he was a Flat-Coated Retriever and it made sense since the breeds were pretty much alike but not exactly the same, just like the twins themselves as humans)

But George didn’t believe your theory that he was a Retriever because Fred was one too

He made it his mission to find out why he was “just a dog and nothing cooler”

Fred transformed and peed at him for that comment in case you wondered

Then George transformed too and they were fighting each other

Chris was amused and laughing while you were annoyed, having an anticipation what you’d have to put up with in the future

And you were right

Their new abilities meant more possibilities for pranks

Like setting one up and being able to enjoy it as dogs without being suspected

At least as long as they did this in the Muggle world or around people that didn’t know them

But the Weasleys were so fed up with them after half a week

And probably even Fred wished his brother wasn’t an animagus

Because George’s fur was way, way more fluffier than Fred’s

In other words

Petting Fred = Nice

Petting George = Nicer

Which had the consequence you petted George more

Result of that:

A jealous Fred

(According to him, even Chris betrayed him by petting his uncle more than his father)

And George wasn’t helping

No, he even made it worse by constantly transforming in front of you

And how could you not pet him?

Inevitably you had two wrestling dogs almost all the time

Even when you went on walks with both of them (when both twins were in their dogform)

George always got more attention

“Poor thing. How did it lose its ear?”

Sometimes Fred pretends to be limping, just to get attention too

But always denying he’s jealous or doing it on purpose

Typically Fred

-

Or incidents like this: Since Fred was reborn as a dog he also enjoys being petted when he’s a human

One day, Chris sat on his chest after playing with his father

And fondles him

Fred let out content growls

“Oh yes that’s nice. Like that”

As if that wouldn’t be funny enough George entered right in that moment

He didn’t see what Fred was doing, only heard him

And leapt to conclusions

“Oi! No fucking when kids are around”

You left the kitchen to have a look when George grew pale

And Fred almost choked from laughing

Later on the younger twin told you he’d be distraught for life because of this

-

Fred’s and yours wedding was on the 2nd of August

The same date as your first wedding because Fred claimed then he wouldn’t have to remember two dates

At least the wedding was much better than the initial one

After all there were no Death Eaters who ruined it

But one of the best things was that you could reuse your old dress because your baby bump in 1997 had been about as big as it was now

Nevertheless Molly tried to persuade you to get a new one

A dress, not a baby bump of course

But you absolutely didn’t want to

You had too much to do anyway and let’s be honest, being pregnant wasn’t a bed of roses

But luckily your boss aka Fred gave you holidays for as long as you wanted

And Fred was very sweet with you and never wanted you to do too much

He helped you wherever he could

However he was still working 100%

And the seller that he hired to fill your job wasn’t the best as it seemed

For you, this wasn’t such a bad thing

Because in the evenings he’d always rant about the worker

And the best way to calm him down was to rake your fingers through his hair

Which you loved

At times he’d even transform and curl up in your lap, enjoying the thorough petting you’d give him

-

All in all the last month of your pregnancy was pretty much like two years ago when you were pregnant with Chris

Fred taking care of you and being extraordinarily sweet

But on the other hand you both are so worried

What if you hadn’t thought of everything?

What if something was missing?

Would Chris like his sibling?

Or would he get jealous?

(Fred thought that was impossible but given the fact he was one jealous man you weren’t that sure)

At least you now had some experience with taking care of a baby so one sorrow less

Molly gifting you baby clothes almost every second day

Getting a little nostalgic when digging through Chris’ old stuff to see what you could use again

Chris getting mad when you told him that he baby would get his old playsuits and baby bottles

Or worse, when you tried to throw some stuff away

Yelling around as if he was being tortured and kicking his foot against furniture

100% Fred’s temper

And Fred thinking it’s adorable how your son freaks out

-

Four days after Chris’ second birthday you went into labour

Fred grabbed your packed bag, told Chris to behave for a couple of minutes before he accompanied you to St Mungos

But as soon as you were taken care of, he left again to get your son to a babysitter

Namely George who only wanted to relax on his free day as you were told

Much to your relief this time the whole process was shorter than the first time

Then he healer placed the baby in your arms

Another boy

Your husband seemed overjoyed about that

(And again tried to persuade you to call him Fred, although you sad no so many times before)

Finally you settled on Fabian

After Fred’s uncle

He was sure Molly would freak out when she heard

But first George arrived with your firstborn

Whereas George seemed absolutely thrilled, Chris had no idea what was so special about his new sibling

As it seemed he was very disappointed

Because his brother would be too young to play with

“Hey! You’ve still got Uncle Georgie and me to play”

But Chris didn’t seem impressed

He pouted until the rest of the Weasleys arrived

George must have told them you went into labour

The delight was huge and to your amusement, Molly held her eldest son a lecture since Fred already had two kids and he still none

“He’s just more careful than Freddie”

The younger twin got hit for that comment

By both Molly and Fred

They all stayed until a healer told them to leave

Only Fred was allowed to stay for the night if he wanted

And hell he did

However, he wasn’t allowed to sleep in your bed

Of course he snuggled up next to you anyway once the healers left for the night

-

Back at home you had to realise that Chris could get really jealous

He thought you liked the baby more than him because you spent more time with Fabian

Then he got angry because he couldn’t hold his brother or got annoyed because he cried all night

It got better when Fred brought home a Pygmy Puff from work

So that Chris too could look after a living being and realise that there is stuff you have to do to make it happy

Now Chris had a task and dragged his pet everywhere

One day even on a walk

Not even a minute later, the animal dashed away, never to be seen again

Chris was on the verge of tears when Fred promised he’d go and find it

Two hours later he came back with a Pygmy Puff

Of course you knew it was a new one but Chris didn’t

But he did notice it behaved differently than before

Fred assured him that was because it was all alone and scared without your son

As much as he loved his pets, after three month he thought Pygmy Puffs were boring

He wanted a more challenging animal

Much to your chagrin Fred thought this was a good idea

A day later you owned a baby Niffler

Although you were mad at him you made it plain that Fred was supposed to take care of any mess it produced

-

One day after work Fred seemed quite excited

“He’s got a girlfriend!”

“Who?”

“Georgie. Met her on a walk”

After that Fred stuck to his guns until you got to meet her

She was a Muggle and seemed very nice

Suddenly George didn’t hang out at your place that often anymore

Although he never would admit it you knew that Fred was jealous of her because she spent more time with his twin than he did

Which often ended in George having his dates ruined by a certain dog

And you actually thought Fred had stopped using his dog form to mess up with people

Think again

Your husband would never act his age

-

When Chris grew older, he developed an interest in experimenting as his father

When Fred didn’t lock up the office door Chris would sneak in all the time to brew his own potion

Sometimes accompanied by Fabian who really seemed to enjoy the show

Luckily that was something Fred didn’t let him get away with

But oh, Chris had his ways to continue experimenting

Though not with potions anymore

-

Years passed by and before you knew it Chris was eleven and got to go to Hogwarts

Even though you lived in Hogsmeade, Fred insisted he’d take the train from London like everyone else

Chris hated him for it

The goodbye at Kings Cross wasn’t as tearful as you had imagined it

After all you lived in Hogsmeade

Chris was Fred Weasley’s son

And Fred and George probably had sneaked out to Hogsmeade more than they went to classes

So it only was a question of time before your son was home

Most likely to refill his stack of joke items

Although he already had one trunk full of them

Somehow you pitied the Hogwarts teachers

This might be a good time to mention that he still had Jingle, his Niffler

Which he wanted to take to Hogwarts

And he even wanted to take another pet

Though that wasn’t a pet

But his father

You had to explain several times that he couldn’t take Fred to Hogwarts as his dog

Among other because others knew it was your husband

After everyone said goodbye Chris got on the train

Everyone meant not only Fred and your kids but also, George with his kids Molly, Arthur as well as Harry and Ginny (who also came to see Teddy Lupin off)

And yes your kids

Plural form

Fabian wasn’t the youngest anymore

You had two other kids now: Virgina, who turned seven this spring and Ben who’d become six in three months

And another yes; George was a father too

Meet your nephews and niece: Gideon, Matthew and Nathan and Jennifer

Gideon was eight now, Matthew and Nathan (twins obviously) would turn six in a month and Jennifer was two

This meant George’s twins and Ben would start at Hogwarts at the same time

And this would also be the time Harry’s firstborn James Sirius would first go too

If you pitied the teachers now, what would happen then?

-

When the train arrived in Hogsmeade Fred made sure to “randomly” pass by the station

You didn’t want to go with him so you never knew what happened

However you were quite sure that a few students got more joke supplies than they already had

Especially your son

So it didn’t wonder you when there was an owl with a letter from Hogwarts on your window ledge the following morning

And in the evening your son showed up in your living room

To tell you he was sorted into Ravenclaw

And to tell everything about his pranks and what he learned

Your other kids and Fred were extremely happy and excited about it

But you didn’t think it was such a good idea when he always came here

Not only because he wasn’t allowed but also because it would do him good to be away from the family some time

Because somehow a part of you had the suspicion Chris could come here as often as possible

-

To your surprise he didn’t

Okay, he came home about ten times during the year, especially when he didn’t feel well

In a way you found that very cute of him, it showed how much his family meant to him

But he was a Weasley after all

They put family above everything else

-

Fabian was the next one to go to Hogwarts

When Chris started his third year

(Fred joked he wouldn’t sign the Hogsmeade permission with the words one never knew what kind of scum might be lurking there)

Since it was Fabian’s first year, Fred insisted he’d take the Hogwarts Express as well

(In his second year you just brought Chris to Hogsmeade station when the train arrived there)

And again you went through the same discussion

“No Fabian, you can’t take your Dad to Hogwarts as your pet. Besides you got your owl”

(He actually wanted a cat but Fred wouldn’t allow it because he loathed cats since he was reborn)

-

Although Fabian usually was more insecure than Chris, he only showed up at your place on Hogsmeade weekends

Or when Chris came to visit you

Most likely because he didn’t want to go alone and felt safer when Chris accompanied him to Hogsmeade

-

And also in the following two years you went to King’s Cross on the first of September

First to see your nephew, Gideon off

(He too sneaked to Hogsmeade a lot and somehow on that days George was at your place)

And a year later your only daughter started her first year

George laughed at his brother when you heard that she was sorted into Slytherin

But you had other sorrows

Since Fred was reborn as a dog it was likely he’d only life a dog’s life span

And now he already lived as a dog since 15 years

So every time he turned into a dog you feared he might would shorten his life even more

Of course you didn’t tell him

Or the kids

And somehow you knew that if he died, he would find you again if he was reborn

Worst was the uncertainty how long he still had

You decided to go and ask around

But this was a special case

No one could give an answer for sure

All you could do was make sure to make best of the time you had left with him

That was when he got suspicious

You told him the truth

He sighed and hugged you tight

“I promise that if I should die shortly, I will come back if I can”

“And what if you can’t? I mean what if you are reborn but you’re on the other end of the world? How are we supposed to find you?”

he chuckled and kissed you

“I’m Fred Weasley. I’ll find a way to stand out for you”

-

Another year later you were almost sure that somehow Fred would live longer than a dog

To say that you were happy about that is an understatement

Yet there always was the fear you had been right earlier

Or maybe Fred would age like a human if he didn’t transform into a dog that much?

You told him about your suspicion and he shared your thoughts

So you decided he’d stop transforming all the time

Because like hell was he gonna die if George’s twins and his son alongside James II would go to Hogwarts soon

He just had to hear what kind of mischief they got up to

And if that meant he had to give a source for his own mischief making (his animagus form) a miss, then so be it

-

Before you knew it you were at King’s Cross again

The kids were threatened with disinheritance if you didn’t get a load of owls from them soon

As if they needed anymore stimulation to cause mischief

Now it was valid to pity the teachers of Hogwarts

And Filch

-

Now George stayed at your place even more because he had frequent visitors

Not that you minded though

Or Fred

He eagerly listened to what his nephews and your son had to tell them

And even gave them new ideas

Or tips on how to improve their pranks

And the kids thankfully accepted them

You rolled your eyes

All you needed now was that Fred and George decided to go to Hogwarts to help them with a prank

But they did

-

One day after the Christmas break the kids visited you again

And hell, they seemed insecure

“What happened now? In what kind of trouble are you this time?”

you asked, feeling a little concerned

“Actually we need your help”

“For something mischievous?”

Oh sure, that’s all Mr Weasley can think of

Not some school project

The younger twins nodded

Their father asked what it was they needed help with

“It said that if we are who we claim to be our Dads could help us”

Your son nodded at his cousins

“Show them”

Nathan seemed reluctant

“What if they confiscate it?”

“Why should we?”

“Because maybe it’s a dark artefact. James found it in his father’s stuff”

Your husband and his twin exchanged a look

“Alright. If it is a dark artefact we will have to confiscate it because it’s dangerous

“If not, you may keep it”

“But now do show, why does it say we can help you?”

Nathan nodded and pulled out something from under his robes and put it on the table

An old piece of parchment

Fred and George exchanged another glance

“George?”

“Fred?

“You think what I’m thinking?”

“Definitely”

They pulled out their wands

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good”

-

And I made a little timetable about Fred and George’s kids for my own reference. Thought I could post it too, for extra information XD

1997 Birth Chris (Early September)

1999 Birth Fabian (Early September)

2001 Birth Gideon

2002 Birth Virginia (In spring)

2003 Birth Matthew & Nathan (October) / Birth Ben (December)

2007 Birth Jennifer

2009 Chris starts at Hogwarts (Ravenclaw) / Teddy Lupin starts at Hogwarts (Hufflepuff)

2011 Fabian starts at Hogwarts (Hufflepuff)

2012 Gideon starts at Hogwarts (Ravenclaw)

2013 Virginia starts at Hogwarts (Slytherin)

2015 Ben, Matthew & Nathan start at Hogwarts (all Slytherin) / James Potter II starts at Hogwarts (Gryffindor)

2018 Fabian graduates from Hogwarts / Jennifer starts at Hogwarts (Gryffindor)

-

Taglist: @ta-ka-shi-ma, @malindacath, @muggleborngirl

[peachymess]

The lawyer update

Well, as some of you probably saw, I had a little vent session a few days ago, about a lawyer. The most keen of you may already know I got a lawyer for something in October last year - but I suppose it’s an open secret to most of you, so I’ll just start from the top.

I’m a long time mentall health struggler, and due to this, I have ended up needing welfare for the time being. The plan is to build a solid foundation to stand and grow on. I can’t focus on recovery before my life has stability. And that’s what I’ve been working on. I went through a several years long process of applying for this and that - only to be ALLOWED to apply for welfare. It was made clear to me that it was not a matter of “if”, but “when”. I talked to my case worker about getting a loan to get a permanent apartment (moving once a year has really worn me out over the years and keeps me uprooted), and she told me it seemed like the natural progression. Long story short, I got a loan from the bank based on what I would get from welfare - AHEAD of actually GETTING welfare (yes, that is how confident my caseworker, psychologist and bank were that I’d get welfare; after all, I meet every criteria and then some)... and then I finally get my answer. I am granted welfare! Hooray! And they agree I’m 100% in need (you can be granted different %s based on how well/non-functioning you are. They gave me 100%, meaning they absolutely agree that I do not function well enough to maintain any kind of self-sustainable income.

HOWEVER... I am eligible for “young welfare” as well - basically a slightly heightened income, granted younger people on welfare. This is the same as regular welfare, just an extra 1.5k a year or so, since you tend to be sitting on less at the time of falling ill, if you fall ill early in your life. This is for people who fell ill before turned 26 and who are still “young” - criterias I meet. The only difference in criteria from young to regular, is that they are generally stricter with “young”; you have to be “like super seriously” ill, not just legitemately ill.

The loan I got at the bank was based on the income I’d get including the “young” bonus (that I was told I’d get because I am exactly the kind of person this kind of thing was created for)... but in the same letter as where they told me they’d granted me 100% welfare, they also told me they’d be denying me the young bonus. Because, and I (loosely, from memory) quote: “although we do not contest that you feel like your illness is hard to bear, we do not see that it affects you in your day to day life”. This is absolutely laughable to absolutely everyone involved, except them. I am definitely affected (as they even agree themselves, giving me full welfare). I won’t go into detail to prove I’m affected, because this is not about me defending my claim as ill because the base of this post is that I AM ill, and thus what the process has been to claim the help I need because of it. But let’s just say: I am ill, and my life consists mainly of just managing this illness. Not only did they ask me to write a several pages long essay on my day to day, in one evening, knowing full well it would be a mental strain on me, but then they proceed to not take it into consideration. I didnt know whether to laugh or to cry (- so I did both, lol). I have an inkling that they deny people young bonus on their first application because it’s more money out of their pocket to say yes, and because ill people don’t have the energy to do all the paperwork needed to complain. Not to mention, in addition to the bonus, if you are granted young welfare, they are supposed to reimburse you for the time between applying and being accepted too (which often takes up to 8 months) - and in some instances, from the time you fell ill, which in my case can potentially be a lot of money give the fact that I “fell ill” a long time ago and only gradually got worse so nobody quite knows where to pinpoint the start. But whatever, irrelevant, because I wasn’t granted young bonus anyways. Cute. I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with that.

Anyways, because of my situation, I was eligible for free justice aid. Which nobody, of course, informs you about because they don’t want you to know. But my mother stumbled accross a story about something similar to mine and so she contacted a firm and they said yep send that sucker over and we’ll help. So I got a mail from them saying I had the right to their help for free (save a 150 fee + the cost of them getting all my records from doctors, about 250USD in the end) so I signed and they set off to work... or so I thought. This was in October. I only had 30 days to send in my complaint to get a second review from the welfare guys - and the lawyers did indeed send in a letter telling them that a further complaint letter would be sent. But in November my lawyer told me she had gotten all my records and would need a few weeks to read through them... then she went silent until mid- March. Count your fingers, guys. Start of October till mid March is half a year. Minus the month she used to get all my records, she’s been leaving me on read for 5 months while my deadline for complaining ran out early November.

After calling her and mailing her a lot, she finally sent me a mail telling me she was sorry and that she had been home with sick kids and been sick herself. And you know. That’s fine. But not for half a year. Either 1. She took a sick leave, at which case she should have notificed me and/or assigned me to one of the others in the team, or 2. She didn’t transfer me because she didn’t take sickleave, in which case she should have been able to find the time to send a single mail updating me on why it was taking half a year.

In either case, thanks a lot for half a year of extra worry (why wont she answer? What if they won’t accept the complaint now since it’s been so long? What if she’s just gonna screw me over?). But whatever. What had me choking earlier this week, was that - after finally communicating with me again in March and promising to have the job done “this week” two weeks in a row - she contacted me again week 3, fishing about my job (the one I do for about 5 hours once a week and struggle to handle) until she had enough details to tell me that “oh that’s too bad, you don’t meet the requirements for rights to free justice aid now. So, you’ll have to pay me for the work I’ve done this half a year, and either do the rest of the job yourself, or keep paying me for my work going forward on top of what you owe me so I can complete the job - of which the majority still remains”. 1. I don’t have the money to pay her for half a year of jack shit. 2. If I don’t also then continue to pay her for the job I initially hired her for, I won’t win my case and get the money I’m entitled to either and this will have been a major loss, plus I’ll keep struggling to pay down my loan which is too big for me since it was based on higher income.

What’s extra bitter is I JUST blew all my savings on a vacation coming this August and I felt like an absolute ass for having spent what was apparently needed to be a buffer for shit like this, on tickets I can’t return. I had my priorities all wrong, and it made me feel like it was my fault for using my money so wastefully, even if I’ve been saving for years and going hungry a lot for when I run short. How could I complain about money to her or welfare for that matter, when I could spend my savings on a trip? I’m already feeling the consequences of my irresponsible actions and I’ll work to make up for them - however, I am making a consious choice to separate these two matters, as my rights still stand, bad prioritizing not withstanding.

The thing is, she was hired to contest the denial of money aid. She was aware from the getgo that I’d be receiving welfare (and exceed the limit of rights) come November. So she either should have not told me I’d have right to free help because she’d take more than a month to write a counter complaint (at which point my financial situation would change by about 300USD a month, which made all the difference), or she should have done the job within that allotted time. She told me I had this right going in. She did not tell me I needed to remain in the same financial situation throughout the entire case - nor did she tell me she’d use half a year and then some.

Instead of lying down and taking this beating like a dog, I have long since learned that institutions and the likes, will generally not go out of their way to help you. So I stay on my guard at all times, for better or worse. Had I not, I might be dead right now (throwback to that time I was severely siuicid and lost my right to a psychologist out of the blue because I was being transferred from one psychologist to another - que about a year and a half of “end of the rope Peach” writing complaints and making calls and working to deman that help back, I’m still so pissed that they apparently drop deathly ill patients like that; what about those not strong enough to contest this?!).

So I went to tumblr to vent about this shit situation of me suddenly oweing a lawyer an ungodly amount of money for half a year of “work” when I already only barely get by with my too big loan etc. and I was lured into it being told I would NOT have to pay. I found it hard to believe that she didn’t drag the days out just to make me enter into the new financial situation where I just barely exceeded the limit.

But while I vented, I also knew that once I was done blowing some steam, I’d get back on my horse and work until I found a solution. There is no other option. In the meantime, I sent that mail to my mother. She got in contact with my lawyer while I was having a cry, and the lawyer admitted that she didn’t know enough about the stipulations around this particular law/right, so she would send the case to her boss to have a look at.

The day after or so, she got back to us and she said that aha j/k you DO have the right to free justice aid! I’ll get right on the case and have it done within this week or the next!

See, this is the lesson, kids: don’t just lie down and take whatever people throw at you. If I had just said “ok guess I’ll just have to scrape together what I can throughout the year”, I’d have ended up in serious debt to a lawyer I didn’t even owe another penny. I’m not telling you to be difficult in every single instance (don’t become the “I want to speak to your manager about this slightly smaller than average chicken nugget”-woman); pick your battles - but do, indeed, pick some of them. The big ones. Because you don’t always have to accept all the shit you’re being presented with. Sometimes there is something in it for you to put your foot down.

TL;DR: lawyer hired to help me win a case of state withholding money I have the right to, suddenly demands a lot of extra money for her work, which would put me in severe debt. But I said um no and she retracted her demand. Bullet dodged, but oh man the unnecessary stress.

Or: the story of how I have the best mom in the world.

[nikkxb]

Ocean Blues

Inuyasha Pairing: KogKag Rating: Teen Summary: With her life crumbling down around her, Kagome's only moments of peace are spent on this quiet patch of sand talking to a creature that shouldn't exist.  Mermaid AU for AU Yeah August. Author’s Note: I decided to revisit my old Merman Kouga AU and finally write something to go with it. (And look at the artwork that goes with it, isn’t it fantastic?!!)

The salt hit her nose before she saw the water. It always did. Kagome would drive down to the quiet shore tucked away from the busier parks, leave her car next to one of the broken meters, smell the water as soon as she opened her car door, and then make her way across the boardwalk and over the dunes before the expanse of blue met her eye.

Blue as far as the eye could see. She’d never get sick of the sight.

The sand wasn’t hot yet. Still morning, the sand hadn’t had enough time to absorb heat from the sun. She quickly stepped out of her sandals to enjoy the cool temperature against her feet and made a straight shot down the beach until her toes touched water. The water was cold, but refreshing against the growing rays from the sun and she smiled out at the horizon.

One day, she might actually bring a couple friends and enjoy the water.

Turning to the left and away from civilization, she walked through the surf where no trace of her footprints would be left and hurried down the coast.

Kagome didn’t think he’d be there yet. She was a bit early and he said he might be free a little later that day, but she hurried anyway. Anything to get away from the mess that her life had grown to be.

It wouldn’t have been as bad if she hadn’t screwed it up. Granted, she could have done a lot worse than to be followed by Sango, but one discovery was one too many. It wasn’t Kagome’s life at risk if her secret got out and she absolutely refused to risk his. So with that, she had to adjust and if that meant showing up hours before they were supposed to so no one caught a whiff of a schedule and that she had to park her car nowhere near the boardwalk, then so be it.

Still dangerous. It would always be dangerous, but she didn’t know how else to make it work.

When she reached the rundown jetty, she couldn’t keep from hurrying faster over the dunes. There was a little cove, largely undisturbed thanks to being private property owned by a writer who didn’t like to be disturbed, and it was there her eyes were turning to as soon as she crested the hill.

Her heart dipped to see the cove empty.

Stupid, really. She knew she was going to beat him there and yet she still held out a small bit of hope that she was wrong. One of these days, she might actually learn to listen to reason.

With not much left to do, Kagome shed all but her bathing suit, tucked her clothes under some brush, and lost herself in the waves.

*

He didn’t show.

Not that day or the next and a week later, Kagome wondered if maybe she was wasting her time. She’d known from the beginning this couldn’t last. She had a life to get back to and he had an entirely different world to live in. Nothing had been said — no words spoken, no promises given, no futures planned — and it was only a matter of time before she had to put this little slice of magic behind her.

She just wasn’t ready to do that yet.

If she were honest with herself, Kagome didn’t think she’d ever be ready. Sitting on a towel on the sand, watching the unchanging horizon, she heaved out a breath. How many hours had she wasted on this spot waiting for the same thing that didn’t happen? Too many to even count. All hours she could have spent studying or putting together her appeal or even getting extra hours at work to help her save before the slow summer months took a chunk out of her paycheck.

Instead, she’d let her life drain down the toilet while she stuck her toes in the sand and waited for a miracle.

Still she sat. It didn’t matter that unpaid bills were piling up on her counter at home, still sealed in their envelopes. Or that the deadline of her appeal for financial aid was fast approaching and if she didn’t get the paperwork in soon, she wouldn’t be able to take classes the next semester. And it didn’t matter that her boss was getting more and more annoyed at her spotty attendance and her flighty attitude and her dwindling work ethic.

Kagome knew what this was, she’d recognized the signs for months. The only thing keeping her from spiraling into the depths of her depression were chance meetings with a mythical creature she was slowly falling in love with.

*

“Kagome?”

Ah, crap. She’d fallen asleep. And if it took Miroku to find her, she’d been out on the beach for entirely too long. Groaning and pulling herself up from sleep, the darkening sky told her just how long it had been. She was probably burnt to a crisp.

“Kagome?”

That wasn’t Miroku.

Turning, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Long, tan legs that went on forever, bulky muscle extending over the length of his thigh—

He was naked!

Squeaking, she turned immediately from the very tan, very human, very naked Kouga standing next to her.

“I’m dreaming. I’m totally dreaming.” Her heart raced and threatened to beat right out of her chest. “You’re naked and human and naked and standing and naked—”

“Well, it’s not like I walked out of the surf with clothes on.”

Oh God, that was his voice — that was his voice! — he was really there and he was really human and he was really naked.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh—

She peeked back up at him, still checking to make sure she was actually seeing what she thought she was seeing and breathed out a sigh of relief to note her extra towel now wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry. I just…” How do you tell someone you’ve been dreaming about them for months and those dreams have definitely not stood up to reality?

“I shocked you,” he finished, gracefully sinking down to sit next to her. “I should have covered before I woke you, I just didn’t think about it.”

Of course. Before this, that was covered by a tail.

“How—”

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone all week,” Kouga interrupted, turning those intense blue eyes onto her. She’d always attributed their depth to the reflection of the water, but with sand underneath them now, Kagome saw she’d been wrong. “I didn’t expect it to go this way?”

“It?”

He gestured to his outstretched legs and heat rushed up her face at the reminder of the cut of his hip.

“There have always been tales of a potion that gave us legs,” he explained. “Over the last couple moons, I’ve been hunting down the stories and found that it does actually exist.” Kouga’s gaze returned to her and Kagome’s breath caught in her chest. “I was hoping to surprise you.”

Her heart raced and a sudden fear bubble up. “Is it permanent?”

The happiness in his eyes dimmed. “No,” he whispered. “I’ll be back to the water in seven days.”

Relief swept through her, though she didn’t know why. She didn’t understand why. He was here, he was almost in her arms, he was in her life, and she didn’t have to leave him.

“Is there a potion to give me a tail?” she asked, ignoring the puzzling direction her emotions had gone and turning her attention to life beyond the next amazing, magical, unreal week.

He closed right up, his eyes darting over her face before they cast out over the water.

“Kouga—”

“There is.” His pause was weighted, heavy over her shoulders. “It’s permanent.”

No going back.

“Don’t worry about that,” he hurried, misreading Kagome’s silence. “Just spend this time with me. Enjoy this. Have fun. Let me see your world and let me enjoy you in it.”

Let me remember you.

She head the unspoken words and nodded, keeping her own surprising, swift, decisive plea silent as well.

Take me with you when you go.

When I first created this au years ago, I had no idea how it would end. Revisiting it here and exploring more of Kagome’s character, I was surprised to find a dark layer under her cheerful facade, all focused around this feeling of wasting her life away.

So when the idea came of turning her into a mermaid instead of turning Kouga into a human, the pieces suddenly fit together.

I love this addition. I love the lost Kagome looking for home. I think it fits her personality well, that she would leave her world behind to join his.

Kouga’s speech is definitely weird, but changing it seemed wrong. I think mermaid speech patters are probably going to be different considering they don’t interact with humans and their grasp of the language is going to come from books. I’m not going to think too much into it, though.

Let me know what you think!!

[rksungho]

It’s still early in the morning when you’re called into Katie Lee’s office at the Seocho facility. When you enter, you’re greeted by very serious looking men standing along the walls while the CEO stares at you from behind her desk. She gestures to the chair in front of her, and something in the way her eyebrow arches tells you that you shouldn’t make her wait. 

After you’re settled on your seat, the woman carefully studies your expression before beginning. “So,” she holds her gaze right at you. “I hear you’re displeased with your stay at my company.”

She lets her opening statement hang in the air a few seconds for the full effect. “Word around this facility is that you’ve been complaining behind our backs to other trainees. Some… Hwang Inho person has shared his knowledge with his own CEO, who has in turn passed it on to me.” Her lips purse into a thin line. “I suppose you don’t know this, but I really, really hate gossiping.”

“Now, I am a very busy woman and I’m already late for Mnet’s recording, so I will try to make this quick.” She moves an open manila folder across the table in your direction. “This is a mutual party settlement on the termination of your contract with KT Entertainment. If you sign this, your time with us will come to an end effective immediately, and these fine gentlemen will escort you outside.” She makes a brief pause, and her face softens a little. “I understand it’s not easy being a trainee. You may not always fit in; you get homesick; and you constantly second-guess all the choices you’ve made this far. Trust me, I know. I’ve been there myself, once upon many years ago. But I toughened up; I held my ground against all the difficulties because I believed in myself and in my dreams, and now… Well, now I can help make other dreams come true.”

A man politely interrupts the conversation to let Katie Lee know her car has arrived, and she stands up with a nod. “I believe in you, Sungho-ssi. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I can make your dream come true, but for that I’ll need to trust you, and right now I feel betrayed instead. I’ll give you a second chance to reconsider your attitude to this company, and I promise you there won’t be a third.” With a sigh, she picks up a pen, signs her name on the dotted line and then hands it back to you. “If you’re ready to commit yourself to your goals, just let these men know and they’ll file this folder away. Otherwise…”, she glances at the pen one last time, then leaves.

“The choice is yours, Jin Sungho.”

[ Should Sungho decide to stay in the company, the lawyers present in the room will escort him back to practice and instruct all of his trainers to be particularly harsh on him for all of August as punishment for his behaviour. 

Should Sungho sign the agreement and leave KT Ent, he will be immediately removed from the trainee roster and returned to the status of ‘rookie’, and his decision will be filed along with his records in Samsung’s archives for future reference. 

There aren’t any points to be collected for answering this prompt. You have until Sunday, August 11th, midnight EST to post your reply, or Sungho’s choice will be defaulted to leaving KT. ]

the moment he’s called to the office he knows something’s wrong. he’s had these moments before, the second a coach drags him aside or when they were talking about the kt rookies announcement. each time sungho was convinced that this is it, this is the part where they cut me loose, tell me i’m not wanted here. i get it, i’ve been here before. each time his anxieties have been immediately quelled, something different than what he expected being the cause for singling him out if just for a moment.

but this is different. he hasn’t been to this office since he signed a contract. this is wrong.

men in suits confirm his suspicions. this is the end. what had been the final straw? a fight with taemin that had become too loud? had news of his scrap with that royal kid belatedly made it to his ceo’s ears? or was it worse; did jaehyun actually tell someone important what he had seen in the supposedly haunted bathroom over a month ago?

“So,” she holds her gaze right at you. “I hear you’re displeased with your stay at my company.”

she makes it sound like a bad hotel review. a bad stay at her company? sungho doesn’t dare speak yet, his jaw clenched so tightly that it aches already. but he thinks. he thinks of all the times he’s been ostracized by trainees ( how many times he’s fucked himself over with his unlikable personality ), how many times he’s been criticized by coaches and asked to leave the practice room ( how many times he’s worked until he’s felt sick, and then worked through that, through literal blood, sweat and tears ). the literal bones he’s broken since signing her contract. a bad stay? what an understatement.

She lets her opening statement hang in the air a few seconds for the full effect. “Word around this facility is that you’ve been complaining behind our backs to other trainees. Some… Hwang Inho person has shared his knowledge with his own CEO, who has in turn passed it on to me.” Her lips purse into a thin line. “I suppose you don’t know this, but I really, really hate gossiping.”

sungho’s blood runs cold and the tightness of his jaw is joined by a tight grip of both hands. fists curl, fingernails dig into the soft flesh of his palms as he tries to keep his cool. inho had said something. to his ceo. hwang inho marched up to tiger jk’s office and told him that sungho’s unhappy at kt entertainment. the worst part is sungho can’t even doubt it. he sees it so clearly in his mind, that annoying confident saunter and that self-important air as he tells secrets that sungho had whispered in strict confidence.

this is what he gets for trusting someone with too much. he should have known better than to give someone his dreams, even the foolish ones, alongside his heart. his thumb presses over a ring on his finger, a birthday gift he had treasured at the time of its giving, as he fights the urge to rip it off and shove it in a pocket right now.

he still can’t speak as she explains the contract in front of him. he’s seen it before. he knows this part. he can’t talk around the lump in his throat, the memories of a younger self, hardly more than a child, being told very seriously how he had no place in the company anymore. he feels the aches and pains from then all over again, the bruises from a fight where he had won a battle and lost much more than a war. in a moment he’s nineteen again and regretting every decision, every well-meaning action that had lead up to his ultimate demise. it’s his worst nightmare come back again as it has many times in dreams. but this time he can’t wake up.

“I understand it’s not easy being a trainee. You may not always fit in; you get homesick; and you constantly second-guess all the choices you’ve made this far. Trust me, I know. I’ve been there myself, once upon many years ago. But I toughened up; I held my ground against all the difficulties because I believed in myself and in my dreams, and now… Well, now I can help make other dreams come true.”

how could she understand? doesn’t she know what he’s been through once already? does she know the way he feels other trainees’ eyes on him, the snide remarks and the pointed way they don’t approach him? yeah, he’s a dick. he tried not to be so unlikable when he came here, he tried to be the perfect little puppet for the company to mold into an idol. nothing had worked. here he is, after a year and a little extra of trying, being told to get out again.

but hadn’t he wanted this?

hadn’t the intention always been to finish out his contract and reject another from kt should it be offered? hadn’t he wanted to get away from the pink and taemin and the children and everything else he can’t stand about this place? this is an escape as much as it is a punishment. he could be freed, but at what cost?

he doesn’t mean to but he thinks of taemin. he thinks of how every fucking time he’s snapped, he’s yelled, he’s threatened violence against someone or something he’s been there. he’s been god damn awful to taemin, but he’s never given up on him. he doesn’t know why he thinks of it. sungho will deny ever having the moment of consideration later.

“I believe in you, Sungho-ssi.”

“can i have time to think about it?” the words are out of his lips before he can stop them. perhaps not the wisest thing he could have said, but it’s there. one of the suits shakes his head, telling him he has ten minutes to reach a decision. sungho can feel the sweat on his palms, cold. no phoning a friend or anything here.

he doesn’t reach for the pen immediately. he doesn’t so much as move. she said she believed in him. despite it all. despite how he’s given her literally no reason to so much as like him. after all the problems he’s caused, all the displeasure he’s made evident. why? he doesn’t understand. his own mother hasn’t put this sort of faith in him.

the plastic of the pen is cold in his hand when he picks it up, just holds it without going anywhere near the line he’d have to sign. he skims the words. if he signs this he doesn’t owe them anything, right? no debt to pay back, just an offer of freedom.

katie lee would be disappointed if he signed this. oh well, she’s already disappointed in me. would the other trainees be happy to see him gone? maybe. maybe relieved.

sungho can feel the minutes ticking by as he deliberates. they’re long, and too fast at the same time. he needs more time. how is he supposed to make this decision on the spot? he glances at the clock. he has three minutes. for just a moment he lets himself wonder how this would play out.

if he signs the contract, he gathers his things and leaves immediately. he goes home to an empty apartment. what does he do then? start searching for a job? beg his boss for his old spot back? sit at home and do nothing while inho goes to and from trc every day? sungho doesn’t like that idea much. he lowers the pen away from the document.

if he doesn’t sign, he goes back into a practice room. rumors spread, inevitably. trainees always talk. but how is that any different from before? sungho has endured it this long.

he drops the pen.

“i’m not leaving.”

a minute to spare.