#and either joe did notice and so he could get rid of the story

[cementcornfield]

good morning, ok time for me to be a little insane upon first waking up a little hungover on a sunday

we all know joe is in arizona for his friend's bach party/the little autograph signing thing yesterday. (i don't know exactly where that was but i know he was definitely partying in scottsdale because he is a basic bitch <3 <3)

and then last night ja'marr posts the most random blurry picture on his story

the only point of which seems to be establishing that he is now also in arizona. (in phoenix which is like 20 minutes from scottsdale). it's not a picture of ANYTHING!!! like it's just some blurry shot from the back of an uber. truly the only point of this is to say he's there.

and now i woke up and thank god i screenshotted it because HE DELETED IT!!!!!

i invite you all to draw your own (insane) conclusions

[shrinkthisviolet]

The Flash had a problem with story arcs after Season 1 didn’t they? Amnesiac Barry could’ve lasted a few episodes. By contrast Iris stuck in the Mirror-Verse was WAY TOO LONG. (Like there were obvious signs she was an imposter - she could cook, she suddenly knew foreign languages, and was more aggressive, etc and nobody either Barry or Joe realized that right away

YEP honestly s3 in general had this problem: the “ooh big bad Savitar” mystery was stretched out too long, throwing in metas of the week to pad the runtime, which got boring real fast…and the actual interesting stuff (Flashpoint, Savitar being a version of Barry, Barry losing his memory, Killer Frost*, Savitar & Iris) was shortchanged. And meanwhile, like you said, Iris is stuck in the Mirrorverse for WAYYY too long…and when her husband gets suspicious, her own father tells him it’s fine!! He doesn’t notice anything wrong!! And in the following season, when Iris is bouncing through time, yet again no one is concerned except in small moments here and there—Joe even plays D&D while his daughter is lost in time!!

*you may ask, “Lavi, wtf do you mean KF was shortchanged, she got the whole season too?” Well, anon, I say this because KF is incoherent as a character, and the problems start here!

Because…okay. There are two possibilities here. Either KF is Caitlin, or she’s someone else. The first was what they were going with in s3, the second was established later. So let’s ask ourselves:

If it’s the first one: why is she so willing to kill all her friends? Why doesn’t she care about them suddenly? Cisco included?

If it’s the second one: why is she allied with Savitar? He’s promising to get rid of her powers…aka get rid of her, to restore Caitlin!

Also, why didn’t Caitlin talk to…idk, Harry? Sure, he knew KF was Zoom’s lieutenant, but he spent all of s2 learning that the Team we’re not their E2 selves!! Cisco had a whole arc about it!!

Though ofc given that the whole Team also reacted poorly to her powers, acting like she’d suddenly turn evil…maybe Harry would too 💀 who knows (and the writers did not help this notion by legitimately making her turn evil for no reason)

Also…Savitar & Iris is self-explanatory. We’re told he cares about her, loves her desperately like Barry does, and yet he’s willing to kill her just to exist?? That doesn’t sound like Barry Allen ✋ he would jeopardize his own existence for her

(Savitar in general was boring pre-reveal, and I’ll die on that hill)

TL;DR: Yeah the Flash in general had a weird pacing problem where some arcs were too long, others were too short, and I’m convinced sometimes they just did not realize the magic they had when they had it (or, in the case of Savitar, until it was too late to do much with it).

[the12thnightproject]

Ok, bear with me, because this opinion is controversial. (Seriously, I'm a veteran of the Reddit 'said war'). In fact, it's so controversial, that feel free to ignore what I am going to write next, because plenty of people disagree with me, and they have valid reasons for doing so.

But the piece of advice I disagree with is the one that tells writers not to use "said" if they can avoid it.

But:

It's ok to use "said."

There are a couple of "words that you can use to replace said" posts that have been traveling through tumblr (and reddit, and other writing advice spaces) and every time I see one, I wince.

Why? Because (and I wish I could find an accredited source for this), when reading, the human brain tends to not notice the word said, and move on to the thing that is actually important, the words that are being said. When you start replacing every instance of said with synonyms (especially really colorful ones like '"quavered" "jested" "chortled"), the reader starts stumbling on the replacement, and stops reading with flow. Generally, as a writer, you want your reader to be immersed in the story. Too many 'said replacements' and you've lost the reader's suspension of disbelief. If a story is full of said substitutions, then when there are times (see below) that you really do want to indicate emotion with the dialogue attribution, it won't have any power, because the reader won't know if this is an indication of excess emotion on the part of the character, or an indication of excess use of thesaurus on the part of the writer.

Now, about, I don't know, maybe ten percent of the time, you do want the reader to focus on HOW the character said what they did, rather than the fact that they said it, or at least split the focus between what and how. That is the time to insert a more active verb. Sometimes you really do want to indicate that a character is so angry that he snarled his words, or so tired that they yawned. When you use these substitutions sparingly, they become more powerful, because now, you've caught the attention in a good way.

Now, of course the use of said can start to stick out, when you run across a passage like this:

"I don't want to go to school," Joe said.

"Too bad," Alice said.

"It's boring," Joe said.

"Sure, then you can stay home," Alice said.

"Really? Thank you," Joe said.

"I could use some help with the housework. You can start by cleaning the bathroom," Alice said.

And yes, this is an example where too many saids stick out. However, the problem isn't that the writer (er, me) used too many saids, it's because there's no action in this conversation. It's just talking heads. Replacing "said" with other verbs is not the solution, it's like pouring cough syrup on a broken leg.

"I don't want to go to school," Joe grumped.

"Too bad," Alice countered.

"It's boring," Joe whined.

"Sure, then you can stay home," Alice decided.

"Really? Thank you," Joe exclaimed.

"I could use some help with the housework. You can start by cleaning the bathroom," Alice proposed.

The replacements don't add much to the passage, and it still feels like talking heads, and now, the emphasis is even further away from the content of the conversation.

A better solution is to add more action, either around the saids, or since it will be clear who is talking, to get rid of the dialogue attributions altogether. Like so:

"I don't want to go to school." Joe plopped down in front of the door, arms crossed, pout forming on his lips. He kicked his boots off, and one of them went flying across the entry.

Alice ignored the airborne footwear. "Too bad." She placed his lunchbox on the stairway, and zipped up his backpack.

"It's boring." As if preparing to spend an equally exciting morning blocking the front door, he crossed his arms, and leaned back, wincing when one of the hinges dug into his shoulder. He didn't move though. He could wait his mother out.

"Sure, then you can stay home," Alice said. Without bothering to look down, she stepped over his legs and walked calmly into the kitchen.

Was victory that easy? Was it enough to refuse to leave the house? He took a moment to process before getting to his feet and following after her. "Really? Thank you!" Already, visions of a day for playing danced through his head.

A bucket full of rags and cleaning supplies was dropped into his hands. "I could use some help with the housework. You can start by cleaning the bathroom." At his horrified expression, Alice grinned.

Sighing a sigh of complete betrayal, Joe exchanged the cleaning bucket for his lunchbox. Like a condemned man, he replaced his boots and headed out for school.

This second revision still might not be great literature (nor is it intended to be), but it adds some movement and motivation to the scene. I left one of the saids in, but otherwise, I removed the dialogue attributions, replacing them with other action. It's the character's actions that inform the context and tone of their dialogue.

Anyway, that went on longer than I planned. Feel free to ignore. Like I said above, it's definitely not a universally held opinion.

Writing Wednesday Week #44

Is there a piece of writing advice that you totally disagree with, or one that just doesn’t work for you?

Event Details

[thisoneisbatter]

Holy: Chapter Four

This is a new fic that is completed but I think I’ll be rolling it out chapter by chapter because it is a long one. It’s brat tamer, jaded widower Sheriff Hassan in full effect. This fic does contain some very rough sex and consensual sexual violence in some chapters so please do not read if that is a trigger for you. Otherwise, please enjoy and leave feedback!

Holy

Chapter Four

Word Count: 2100

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

The disquiet gets worse and Hassan invites Leslie over.

Hassan had the unfortunate displeasure of dreaming about Bev Keane. It was anything but a fantasy. He had gone to the schoolhouse the day before to question her about the rat poison. Her story didn’t add up. She talked in circles. She always had. She’d rationalized it all away saying that the dog had gotten into the poison she’d left out after the storm. She always seemed to have a convenient explanation for everything. He’d asked her to get rid of the poison. “You know, Compound 1080 has been illegal since the 70s.” He’d told her. “Oh.” She feigned surprise. “I had no idea! I’ll be sure to have Sturge help me dispose of it properly.”

He’d gotten back to the office at 4:45 to find Leslie still at her desk typing away with her panties stuffed into her mouth. He didn’t say anything to her. He didn’t even say goodnight. He took the panties from her mouth, kissed her forehead, and left. He deserved an early night. It was his turn to leave by 5.

The restful evening didn’t pay off in the morning, though. Aside from fitful dreams of Bev Keane running him off the island with a pitchforked mob, he’d stubbed his toe while waking Ali up for sunrise prayer, and he had a searing headache that only coffee could cure. He was surprised to find his office door unlocked when he got to the general store. It wasn’t even 7 yet. Leslie didn’t usually bother rolling in until 8:30. “What are you doing here?” He asked, making a b-line to the coffeemaker. “I work here, Sheriff.” She quipped back. She’d clearly taken an extra dose of attitude before coming in. “No, shit, you work here. You’re early.” The coffee pot was full and hot. He was blessed that morning. “What time did you come in?” “I came in at 5.” She didn’t give him time to react. She spun in her chair and faced him. “Am I counting words today?” “No, I’m not in the mood for games today.” He replied. She clearly wasn’t either. “Good. Something happened with Leeza Scarborough on Sunday and there’s just something weird brewing on the island.” Her face was deathly serious. More serious than he’d ever seen her. “I think we should check it out.” “There’s nothing to check out.” He set his cup down on his desk and began sifting through his mail. “It’s wonderful that she’s able to walk again, but that’s between her and her doctor.” “Ok, that’s another thing.” She stood up and crossed the room to his desk. She leaned against it next to him, testing his boundaries, invading his space. “Last night I was talking to Dr. Gunning about the poison, and then we got to talking about Leeza, and there’s some shit with her mom getting younger. It’s like everyone in town is starting to feel like a million bucks.” “I still feel like trash, so the theory doesn’t check out.” Hassan grabbed Leslie by her belt and lifted her ass off of his desk enough to grab the pieces of mail she’d sat on. She didn’t seem to even notice. “No, listen, it all kind of fits because there are like five people on the island who aren’t parishioners of St. Patrick’s. You and your son, me and my mom, and Joe Collie. Joe Collie is worse than he’s every been. I saw him pounding a fifth of Beam in the parking lot on my way in. My mom is on death’s door, Hassan. She’s like, really bad. And you look like you got hit by a bus this morning.” She noticed his dismissive face and frowned back. “I’m sorry. Very gruff and sexy. You’ve got the whole silver fox thing going on. But like, you aren’t suddenly Benjamin Button like the rest of the island and I want to know why.”

To her face, he brushed her off. It was all too much to be believed. So what, St. Patrick’s has a fountain of youth? Even if there were an explanation, it was unlikely that it had anything to do with the law. Secretly, though, Hassan jotted it all down. In New York, he’d been a detective. He loved a good mystery.

It wasn’t until a week later that a clue fell into his lap. He was on his way home from a nightmare of a meeting at the schoolhouse when he heard Leslie’s voice ring out in the night sky. He’d hung back to talk to Erin Greene about some concerns they seemed to share. It had only been fifteen or so minutes. “Beverly, I am warning you, get off of our property!” Her voice was booming, but still so innocent. She had trouble demanding authority. He’d written those exact words on her annual review. Hassan broke into a jog. The good thing about everyone on the island living on what equated to one city block was that he never had to do much running. By the time he got to Leslie’s house, he was more confused than ever. Bev was on their porch stairs, yelling up at Leslie’s mother, who was clutching the porch railing and absolutely screaming in reply. “You brought a demon to this island! All of you are falling prey to it!” Her voice wavered but she didn’t stop. “But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent’s cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ. This is not our Lord. You are following the wrong path.” “If you just came to St. Patrick’s and saw for yourself, Ms. Cindy, you’d know that we are experiencing a revival!” Bev took another step up, causing Cindy to spit on the stairs between them. “I’d rather die!” She was red faced and fuming. “I assure you that you do not have much time left on this earth.” Bev looked more smug than she ever had. She’d been on a real tear lately. “Ok, mom, we’ve done enough.” Leslie came out of the shadows to pull her mother toward the door by her wrists. Hassan shuffled Bev in the opposite direction, reminding her that trespassing laws do exist, even in small towns. When he we sure she was gone, he went to Leslie’s door and knocked, watching her through the stained glass on either side. She was hugging her mother, helping her into a chair in the living room. “Hey, come in.” She answered with a pained smile. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” He toed off his boots by the door, following Leslie into her kitchen and out of earshot of her mother. He watched her on her tiptoes trying to reach the mugs on the top shelf. “I wish I fucking knew.” She snagged on with her pinky and pulled it down, catching it just in time before it fell to the counter. “Bev came over to make some pitch to my mom about going to church to see the miracles. Mom asked her to leave and before I knew it, they were having it out on the porch rap battling bible verses at each other.” “Is Ms. Keane just evangelizing? Why would she want your mom to go to St. Patrick’s?” He watched her make two cups of coffee. Her own was stained and chipped. The mug she’d pulled down from the top of the cabinet was clearly for him. “Hassan, my mother hasn’t gone to church in 50 years, not since they opened St. Patrick’s. It’s nuts.” She served his to him black, but the amount of sugar and creamer she put in her own actually made his stomach hurt just to watch. “Last weekend she was going on and on about stuff with my dad and how dead things should stay dead. My dad was part of some religious order back in Romania before they came to America. It was like a million years ago. Who the fuck knows. All I know if that Bev is up to something.” “Any idea why your mom was yelling about demons?” He took a long gulp of his coffee. It burned going down. Just how he liked it. “She’s old as fuck. I don’t know. My whole life her and my dad would go on about stuff like that. I think it’s all from the old country.” She took tiny, dainty sips from her own mug, licking her lips after each one. “Look, she’s so old. She was almost 60 when they adopted me. She doesn’t always make sense. Bev harassing her isn’t making it any better.” She watched him in silence for a minute, her eyes changing slowly from annoyed to intrigued to mischievous. “Do you want to go upstairs and fool around? I’m super worked up.” “Yeah,” He drew the word out dismissively. “I’m not going to fuck in your childhood

bedroom like a teenager.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. It was her mother’s presence that turned him off significantly. Senile old ladies screaming religious vitriol just didn’t get him going. He offered an alternative. “You can come to mine, though. Ali is staying at Ooker’s tonight.” She pursed her lips, considering the offer. He knew she’d say yes. She’d never said no to him. “I’ll see if Sarah next door can look in on mom.” Hassan looked at his watch. “It’s 8:30. If I don’t see you at 9 then I’ll assume you aren’t coming.” He watched her suddenly snap into action, kissing him on the cheek and racing around to get her mother ready for bed. He let himself out. His walk home was short, only four houses down the road. He’d never in his life had a woman over just for sex. But then again, he’d never done a lot of things that seemed pretty common place now. He sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at the picture of Shameema that had taken up permanent residence there. “Don’t laugh at me for trying to enjoy this.” He said, picking up the framed photo and holding it on his lap. “She’s not you, no one could be you. But she makes me feel like I’m not alone. I’m going to take that for what it is.” He kissed the photo and carried it to the living room to join the others on the mantle. Just as he set it down, the doorbell rang.

[mrsalwayswrite]

These Hands Were Made For You (Bill Guarnere x Reader)

Based on this post by @problematicfavesareproblematic​ because its amazing!

This is my first time writing Wild Bill. Lemme know what y’all think!

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension, palming (is that a warning?)

Words:2600

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  As soon as you stepped into the barn-converted-to-mess-hall in Albourne, you knew what was coming. 

 "There she is, fuckin' goddess of war herself! Come to see how the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch in the 506 is doin' this morning?" 

 You just chuckled and shook your head at his exaggerated smug look. "Yeah, Bill. Something like that."

 Guarnere winked at you and you could not figure out how it was possible for such a simple action to be so dirty. The way he tilted his head just slightly, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smirk followed by a quick wink...you could feel heat pooling in your belly and your breath catch. 

 The cocky grin on his face grew as he saw the hint of pink on your cheeks. He knew what that wink did to you and he LOVED using it against you. 

 Bastard. 

 "Something you need, Y/L/N?" Martin asked from the table closest to the door.  

 "Yeah, any of you seen Lip?"

 Luz answered from the table, cigarette dangling from between his lips. "Think he went back to the house to grab something. Why?"

 You waved Luz off as you could see him start to stand, stepping further into the barn. "Just need to ask him something. Winters is in a meeting otherwise I'd ask him."

 "Why don't you take a seat, he should be back soon."

 "Perfect spot saved right here for the Valkyrie of Easy!" Bill announced, patting the open spot on the bench next to him. 

 You rolled your eyes but relented, moving past the other table to drop next to Guarnere. On his other side sat Heffron, still looking a bit wide-eyed and nervous that he somehow won the coveted spot with the Toccoa men. Toye sat across, giving you a brief nod when you sat down. Perconte, Christianson, Skinny, and Grant also took up residence around the table. Perco seemed to have been in the middle of telling some overly, exaggerated story. 

 Most of Easy relaxed in the barn. The Toccoa men were grateful for the break from the front-line and hot food instead of K rations. All the replacements were eager for the next jump, ready to soil their ODs, not truly understanding that war would only take from them, never give. The division between Toccoa men and replacements was painfully obvious. 

 Heffron leaned around Guarnere to meet your eyes. "Hey, sorry again about the fellas yesterday. They've been like that since training."

 "Not your fault, Babe." You shrugged, running a hand through your hair. 

 "What's he talkin' about?" Guarnere narrowed his eyes at you. Even Toye across the table was staring at you in concern. 

 "Nothing, Bill. It's fine."

 "If you're sayin' its fine then it ain't fuckin' fine." He growled. When he realized you were not going to elaborate, he turned on Babe. "What the fuck happened?"

 The redheaded replacement looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world in that moment than being interrogated by Wild Bill. "Some of the men were...ah, tryin' to...um… proposition her." He finished with a wince. 

 A long beat of silence.

 Then Guarnere exploded. 

 He pounded the table with a tight fist, the table shaking at the impact.  A snarl on his lips, he started to rise from his seat, eyeing the tables further away full of replacements. "Who the fuck was it? Someone from our platoon? Imma fuckin' kill 'em. Who was it?"

 "No," you cut in, grabbing his arm and restraining him, hoping to stop him before he worked himself up into a frenzy, "some replacements from third."

 He growled but let you pull him back down. "Goddamn replacements. They touch you?"

 "No, Bill. I handled it."

 Toye spoke up, eyeing his friend carefully as if to see if he was going to have to prevent a replacement's murder or help hide the body. "What you do?"

 You smirked, squeezing Guarnere's arm for good measure then pulled your hand back into your lap. "Told them if they tried to pull that shit again, I'd rip their cocks off and mail them to their mothers."

 All the men at the table either winced or shifted uncomfortably at the mental image. 

 "Hey, don't you be touchin' no one's cocks." Bill said, fury still on his face but also amusement. 

 You raised an eyebrow, "what would you rather I have done? Swung at them? Give Sink a reason to send me packing?"

 "Nah, you swing at 'em, they might fall in love." He winked at you again, telling you he knew exactly what he was talking about. Underneath the table, hidden from view, his knuckles skimmed the outside of your thigh. You attempted to hide the shiver that caused but knew you failed when Guarnere chuckled quietly.

 "Why would that matter?" Babe asked innocently. 

 "Oh, here we go." Toye sighed. 

 "Shut up Joe, the kid asked alright." Guarnere started his story, pleased to have a new, rapt audience. "So here we are, back in Toccoa, right? Most of us have already arrived and started trainin' with goddamn Sobel. Then one day this beautiful broad shows up and we're told she's joinin' the paratroopers. None of us believe it. Why would a broad be joinin'? Don't make no fuckin' sense. So the next day we're supposed to be startin' to learn self-defense and guess who I get paired up with? Huh? Lovely Y/L/N over here. Right, so I'm fuckin' pissed cause I don't wanna be fightin' no broad but Sobel is watchin' like a hawk. I tell her I'll pretend to swing at her and she should just fall down. Play fightin', ya know? Like when youse a kid. I take a swing at her, thinkin' she knew the plan. She easily dodges my swing and before I can right myself, she lands a punch on me. Knocked me flat on my ass and seein' stars. I look up to see this goddess standin' over me, bloody knuckles and all, and she says 'you better get up and fight me like a man before I knock you on your ass again'."

 "So, what you do?" Heffron asked, surprise clearly written all over his face. 

 Guarnere tapped the table with his finger. "What did I do? Well, I got up and told her that when this war is over, I'm gonna fuckin' marry her, that's what I was gonna do."

 Those who had heard the story before chuckled while Heffron sat there, head tilted and eyes bouncing between you and Guarnere like he was waiting for the punchline still. 

 "Why? No offense, Y/L/N." 

 Guarnere threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Cause she hits harder than any fella I've ever known, includin' me brother Henry. Boxin' champion that one was. Now if that ain't a reason to marry someone, I don't know what is."

 "And she puts up with your bullshit." Toye deadpanned. 

 You rolled your eyes, sliding out from underneath Guarnere's arm. "That's just words unless there's a ring and I don't plan on marrying for a while yet. Still gotta win a war first." You stood up, smoothing down your ODs. "'Sides, maybe by then I'll find someone who doesn't annoy me so much."

 "Nah, you'd miss my handsome face too much."

 "You keep telling yourself that, Bill."

 "One day you'll come around." He winked, making your insides warm. You would never understand how that was possible. The Philadelphian pointed a finger at you. "You lemme know if any of those replacements bother you again. Can't have those bastards propositionin' my future wife."

 "See you later, boys." You said, not even bothering to answer him. You headed towards the door, intent on finding Lipton; but also to get away from the man who gave you such feels without even saying a word. Then when he did speak, complimenting and claiming you in front of the others…. it was becoming harder and harder to keep your hands and your lips to yourself. 

 ***** 

 You leaned against the doorframe, admiring the man who was too caught up in writing a letter home to have noticed you yet. He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he thought about his words. The chair creaked under him as he shifted, leaning forward against the wooden desk to continue writing. The small bedroom only consisted of the desk, chair and bed. Guarnere's duffle bag was thrown in a corner with things haphazardly pulled out. The NCOs had been billeted in a house together, everyone able to have their own rooms unlike the enlisted men who were forced to share a converted barn.

 When you had first met him, and your first real encounter resulted in you punching him, you had thought he was the most unhelpful, condescending, little shit; and you had no problems telling him that for weeks after. When he had bounced back to his feet and proposed...you had laughed so uncontrollably, it had taken a sharp bark from Lipton to get you to focus again. 

 Over the following weeks, the bastard would openly flirt with you and practically pummel anyone else who tried to. Sometime around Fort Benning, your own feelings toward him started to change. No longer was he a man you loathed. You found yourself happy he was in your platoon, that he hovered around you keeping assholes from other companies away, that you enjoyed his flirting and when you two were alone... you reciprocated. 

 Actually, the first time you flirted back, he almost choked on his tongue he was so surprised. After that, things shifted between you two. 

 He continued openly flirting but understood you could not since you were under far more scrutiny and Sobel was looking for ANY reason to get rid of you. 

 For two years Guarnere had been in your life...and you hoped for the rest of it too. 

 "Enjoyin' the view, sweetheart?"

 You smiled at him as he leaned back in the chair, legs still under the desk. "Should I be?"

 He scoffed. "You know you like what you see...I'll tell you though," his eyes raked over you, "you're a fuckin' goddess with a body to drive a man crazy."

 You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand to minimize the sound, as he winked at you before turning back to his letter. 

 "The other NCOs said you were going out tonight for drinks."

 "Yeah, yeah. Told 'em if I didn't finish this letter for my ma, she'd jump on a boat and come find me. Got three letters from her already. Last one she threatened to come find me. So, I told the fellas I'd meet them there."

 The muffled sounds of the other NCOs drifted up the stairs; they were gathered in the common room getting ready to head out. With that in mind, you moved silently across the room to where he sat at the chair. Coming up behind him, you dragged your hands over his broad shoulders then down his firm chest, stilled his motions. 

 "Y/N…"

 You loved touching him, could not get enough of it when you were able to. What you also loved doing was paying him back for teasing you. 

 One of your hands continued to travel downward until you palmed his cock. He froze, pencil hovering just about his letter. Without a word, you slowly, torturously, stroked him over his trousers. 

 "Fuck, sweetheart." He groaned, tipping his head back slightly. 

 "You said earlier I wasn't supposed to be touching anyone's cocks...does that include yours?"

 Turning his head, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye but before he could speak, you took the tip of his earlobe between your teeth. 

 "Hands on the desk, Sergeant." You growled in his ear. 

 Immediately, his hands slammed on the wooden desk, palms down. The pencil fell to the floor. Letter now forgotten on the desk. 

 "Mmm, yes, sir… you keep them there." You continued slowly stroking his cock over his trousers. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to kiss you earlier when we were at the mess hall." You licked up the curve of his ear, feeling him shudder under your touch. Your hand gave him a gentle squeeze as you continued whispering in his ear. "Think I should punish you for teasing me earlier? That wink you gave me...all the dirty images it put in my head. Want me to tell you about them?"

 "Fuck, sweetheart, yes."

 "I thought about you bending me over one of those tables. Notice how they are at the perfect height? How good you would feel inside me. How deep you would be."

 One of his hands started to move off the table, drifting towards where your hand played with him. 

 You nipped his earlobe sharply, making him hiss. "Hands up, Sergeant, or no reward later."

 "You're gonna kill me, darlin'." His hand slammed back on the desk. 

 You licked a line up his neck before pressing your lips against his ear again. The pace of your hand increased, his chest rising and falling to match. "Remember that time in Mackall where we snuck into the parachute packing building and fucked on the silks. You couldn't wait to get inside of me and almost tore my new ODs. So I made you wait and watch as I started touching myself. After someone came in and we almost got caught."

 His hips were now rutting against your hand, the chair shaking with his movements.  His hands were in white-knuckled fists on the desks, trembling with his desire to get them on you. 

 Unable to help yourself, you grabbed his face with your free hand, turning it to press a bruising, messy kiss to his lips. He greedily took ownership of your mouth and deepened the kiss. He plundered your mouth with his tongue, reminding you how his mouth and skillful tongue alone could drive you wild. 

 Finally you broke away, pressing your forehead against his temple as you attempted to refill your lungs with the oxygen he had stolen. "God, I wish I could kiss you out there. Let everyone know I am yours. Maybe share quarters with you instead of sneaking around like teenagers. Fuck whenever we want."

 "I'd be the luckiest, fuckin' bastard in all of Easy. You're mine. My goddess."

 "There is one thing I need right now. I need the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch above me. I need my man inside me." You squeezed your hand, making him tip his head back and loudly groan. "Now the other NCOs are just downstairs. Think you can keep quiet?"

 He pressed a hard and fast kiss to your lips. "Oh darlin', it ain't me whose gonna have to keep from screamin'."

 "Mmm, think you can help me out?"

 "I'd do anythin' for ya…." He turned in his seat, hands now stroking your waist with a completely wicked and sinful smirk on his face. "Go lock the door."

 You stepped back, admiring the disheveled look on Guarnere, how his eyes blazed with passion and desire. For you. Without tearing your gaze from his, you shut the door and locked it behind you. 

 "Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

 "Only for you. Come on, Sergeant, show me how good you are with your...arsenal."

 Before you could move, he leapt out of his chair, making it clatter on the floor as it tipped over in his enthusiasm. He picked you up easily and tossed you on the bed. You laughed only to be immediately silenced by his mouth slamming against yours, a moan drawn from you as his talented fingers rid you of your clothing with an almost inhuman speed. 

 *****

 Later that night Guarnere was quite late for getting to the pub but he did not mind one bit. Especially since his bed now smelled like you…. And he had been able to remind you how much he loved you. 

 Quite vigorously. 

[shining-red-diamond]

Trick or Treat, Revenge is Sweet

Words: 1k

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Genre: slight angst, but mostly fluff (in a sense), mostly humor

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, vandalism, mentions of illness and bullying, and some language

A/N: This was inspired by a story time from @/HeyParis on YouTube. I also gave a name to the antagonist.

Fumed.

That’s all Y/N was feeling at that moment. Tanya had humiliated her for the last time, and in front of Felix, too. Typically, Y/N would let it go, but after crossing the line by bringing up her sick father, she nearly snapped. Felix already knew about Y/N’s situation, but he did his best to help her out. However, he thought Y/N was going to beat up, and he held her back.

“Such a good little boyfriend you are, Phillip,” Tanya scoffed.

“It’s Felix,” he huffed.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, I’m having a Halloween party at my house tonight. Everyone on campus is invited if they wanna come, and that includes you two. But I understand if you have other priorities.”

Y/N had always gone to Tanya’s parties in attempt to make some friends, and she had mangaed to make a few, mainly because they hated going to Tanya’s parties to feel that they’ve done something wild. Tanya’s parties always started out calm, but they always ended up with someone or some people getting overly drunk and other shenanigans that happen. Y/N and her friends typically left early after the first round of shots were passed out.

However, Y/N was beginning to hatch a plan.

“There’s also gonna be a costume contest,” Tanya continued as she played with her brunette locks. “Best costume wins a hundred bucks.”

“It actually sounds like fun,” Y/N nodded. “Since I’m not in the mood to beat your ass anymore, I think I’ll come.”

Tanya looked at Y/N as if waiting for another sarcastic remark, but then smiled in a fake manner.

“Party starts at eight,” she said just before turning to walk away.

“We’re going,” Y/N confirmed as she watch the Wicked Witch strut away.

“Are you sure?” Felix asked.

She turned towards him and exhaled. “I’m not afraid of her. She can put on a ‘nice girl’ an act all she wants, but we know the truth.”

“What are you going to do? Attempt to embarrass her in front of everyone? I think she’s wear a dress to the party, so the only thing you’d do is somehow rip it with out her noticing.”

Y/N shook her head.

“What plan are you hatching?” Felix asked as he stepped forward.

“I’ll tell you when you come over to get ready for tonight.”

-

Taking one final look at herself in the mirror, Y/N felt like she could rule the world. She was dressed in a black, long-sleeve crop top, a black, plaid skirt with some silver chains on it, and she also wore a pair of black wings. Her makeup was dark, but nothing too intimidating. The thigh high boots she wore made her feel powerful.

Felix was dressed as dressed similarly but without the wings. He was dressed as a rock star with a Led Zeppelin shirt on.

His arms slid around Y/N’s waist, and he kissed her cheek. “You are stunning, my love,” he whistled.

“Is this Lee Yongbok or Kurt Cobaine?” I chuckle.

“I was going for a more Billie Joe Armstrong look,” he whined.

“Here.” Y/N grabbed some eyeliner and turned in her boyfriend’s embrace. She got to work, and in about two minutes Felix’s eyes were much more dramatic with the smudged black eyeliner.

“Perfect,” she giggled.

Felix kissed her once, careful not to smear her lipstick. When he pulled away, he asked, “Are you sure your plan will work?”

Y/N nodded. “By the time we’re done, Tanya will be too wasted to know she was set up.”

Once she grabbed two tubes of lipstick, she and Felix headed out the door and began their hike to Tanya’s house.

“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” Felix asked after walking two blocks.

“You’re acting like I’m gonna go full-on WWE on her,” Y/N scoffed. “I’m just going to embarrass her, and then I’m not messing with her anymore.”

“You promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

She knew it was only petty revenge, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She wanted Tanya to have a taste of some of her own medicine. For a little while, at least, Y/N wanted some ease.

Hand in hand, the couple finally reaches Tanya’s front porch, music blaring from the inside as if they could shatter her windows at any moment. Once the approached the front door, Felix rang the doorbell, and Tanya, dressed as a sexy angel, answered almost immediately.

“So you decided to come,” she giggled before losing her balance a bit. Y/N could immediately smell the alcohol on her foe’s body. “You two have fun, but be mindful of the…um…fruity drinks. I think someone poured a little bit of Captain Morgan in it.”

Tanya hobbled away to who knows where, and Felix and Y/N entered the house. It was large and beautiful, no doubt, and Y/N sometimes wished she lived in such luxury; however, she liked her home the way it was. Lights were bouncing off the walls, the entire interior were decorated to the nines in cute Halloween decorations, and everyone there was dressed as various characters or objects.

“So do you want to start?” Felix raised his voice over the loud speakers.

“Not yet,” Y/N replied. “I’m gonna wait until ten. People will either be drunk or making out in different hiding spots.”

“Oi, Felix!” a voice from behind them called. It was his friend Chan, who was dressed up like Ghostface for the night.

“Meet me in the upstairs bathroom in an hour,” she instructed.

The two went their separate ways, and for that hour Felix had fun with his friends from his soccer team. Y/N hung out around the snack and drink area speaking to people she knew. She wasn’t one for alcohol, so she stuck with sipping on soda for the night. The party itself was wild already, the music loud enough to cause a plane crash. More guests were starting to get drunk or disappear to various parts of the house. Tanya was acting more and more giggly and childish as the hour went by.

“I’m an absolute angel,” Tanya praised herself drunkenly to her friends at one point. “I am as pure as freshly fallen snow.”

“Snow that’s been pissed on,” Y/N mumbled as she sipped on her drink, causing a few guys next to burst into laughter.

When she checked her watch, it was five minutes until she and Felix would meet upstairs. After disposing her cup, she made the ascent, putting a little swagger in her step. Her brain couldn’t register why, but she felt powerful. She turned her head to signal for Felix, but he was already trailing behind her.

The two entered the designated bathroom and turned on the lights. The wallpaper was an ugly green pinstripe, and the marble counter wasn’t helping it either. The only decent pieces were the porcelain tub and framed artwork on the walls.

“So, what’s your plan for here?” Felix asked as he closed the door.

Y/N reached into her purse and pulled out the two lipsticks she had.

“Bathroom’s a bit ugly,” she sneered as she handed Felix one of the lipstick tubes. “How about we decorate it a little?”

“Is this part of your plan?”

“No, I just thought of this last minute.”

With a smirk on her face, she and Felix both began their artwork on the bathroom walls. Felix drew and wrote whatever his heart desired, and Y/N just doodled hearts everywhere. This went on for about twenty minutes, Felix managing to stand on the toilet seat to write “Trick ‘r Treat” near the ceiling.

When they finished, they decided to do make murals in the other bathrooms in the house. This continued until both lipstick tubes were empty, and neither of them got any marks on their costumes.

“Is this where your real plan begins?” Felix asked after they disposed the lipstick tubes.

Y/N said nothing but pulled out her phone and called the nearest police department. They stayed in the current bathroom they were in and locked the door while she dialed the number, making sure she used the star-six-seven method.

After someone picked up, Y/N ignited her scheme.

“Hi, this is Jennifer Barbara,” she used a fake voice. “And my neighbors next door, and absolutely loud. I have four children under the age of six, two of them have school in morning; and my husband has work in the morning. You need to come shut this down, please. It’s ridiculous. Listen.”

She held her phone to the door, which she had opened to increase the volume of the thumping music. The woman on the other end agreed to send the police over immediately.

Knowing where they lived, it was going to take the police at least twenty-five minutes to arrive; so Y/N lead Felix back out towards the snack and drink bar. A few more people where already drunk out of their minds at that point, and the party started getting a little crazier.

“A glass of Captain Morgan,” Y/N told the bar tender, and he was happy to pour her a glass. “Thanks.”

“That’s it?” Felix asked as she took her glass.

“Follow me.”

Felix obeyed, and she led him to where the deejay was jamming out to the music he was playing. He notices the two and gives them a nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention to two other women who showed up next to him.

Felix did dance a bit as Y/N just bounced to the beat while pretending to drink her beverage. After a while, there was a banging on the door.

“Right on queue,” Y/N smirked.

Tanya’s boyfriend answered the door, and as Y/N planned, three officers were at the door. The music was still going while the boyfriend and now Tanya were arguing with the police while Billie Eilish’s “bad guy” was playing in the background.

“Party’s not over!” he announced to the rest of people there.

We’ll see about that, Y/N thought as the line “I’m the bad guy sounded.”

As soon as she was sure the deejay wasn’t looking, Y/N took a sip of her Captain Morgan and dumped it in a manner that looked accidental on the equipment. The deejay’s workspace sparked a little, but it mainly blew the speakers out. Fire wasn’t lit, but there was smoke. The party guests immediately started shouting in complaint and running around in panic.

After getting rid of the glass, Y/N and Felix quickly exited the main living room and out to the front patio. The two of them were both roaring with laughter as a few people were starting to exit the house, some of them a little too buzzed to sense what direction they were going.

After catching their breaths, they decided to head to a diner for a late night snack.

“You scare me sometimes, Y/N,” Felix commented as they walked to her house for her car. “But since it is still Halloween for another hour and a half, I’ll let it slide.”

“I’m not doing that again,” Y/N sighed. “If Tanya does figure out it was me that did all of that, then I’ll help her pay for damages.”

Y/N had grabbed the wizard’s wand in her little gamble, and she felt really good. However, she still felt a little bad for ruining someone’s party, even if it was someone she deemed as Lucifer. Her dad would want her to help out with anything.

She looked back at the scene they left. More people were leaving the property, and officers were still getting everyone to clear out. Tanya and her boyfriend were still dealing with an officer, but she had cuffs on her wrists.

Y/N couldn’t help the smirk that was coming back to her face.

“Trick or Treat, you she-devil,” she muttered victoriously.

-

Tags: @burberrylucas​ @daybreakx​ @cloudychannieee​ @barsformars​ @starsandsoul​ @hyyunjins​ @mafia-nct​

[lu-undy]

Chapter 11 - SBT

Here it is!

The Frenchman hit the hotel after his lunch with Victoria. He left the car to the parking valet and shot to the lift where he found Bastian.

“Which floor, Sir?”

“Cinquième.”

[Fifth.]

“Right, Sir.” The young man felt it. His client felt under the weather somehow. He wasn’t his same confident self. Of course, Bastian stayed away from questioning it or trying anything. He kept to his job and politely obliged.

When the lift stopped and the bell rang, the doors opening wide, Lucien resolutely exited without adding a word. As the doors closed again, Bastian put his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh?”

When his hand emerged out of it, a few coins shone in the palm of his white gloved hand. He smiled.

Meanwhile, Lucien had slammed the door shut as he entered his suite. He went straight to his bathroom. He opened the taps fully and let the water flow in a violent and loud stream. He removed his expensive shoes, put them out next to the front door and started stripping naked in front of the bathtub. His eyes were riveted on the water, the chaotic stream creating and destroying bubbles. 

His tie, jacket and vest flew out of the way quickly and he stayed bare-chested, crouched down, his chin and his arms on the edge of the bathtub, staring emptily at the water level rise. He couldn't hear his own thoughts if he had wanted to, the bath was too loud. Perfect, that was absolutely the point. Lucien wanted to smother and drown the voices in his head which repeated what Victoria had said. 

Bullshit! It's impossible to not feel lonely!

He frowned. Of course it was! That was how he had managed to survive! He had managed to embrace his loneliness and accept it! Victoria was young… Oui, too young to understand, no doubt. And of course such a sacrifice comes at a price! It is far from easy! But he had made it, he had succeeded in ridding himself of that feeling, the impression of a vacancy in his heart where a human should be...

The Frenchman sighed and stopped the water from running. The bath was full. He looked at the bottles standing at the edge of it and found some bubbling gel. He poured some in and mixed it until a thick foam formed at the surface. Lucien finished stripping naked and slipped in.

He let himself sink in slowly, until his back rested against the bathtub. He laid his head back and let his eyelids fall on his eyes. 

"Mon Dieu…" 

[My God…]

His lips hardly moved and the words slipped between them in a thin thread of air. 

Now what?

Well, now there was no loud water to deafen the voices in his head, no walking hard and fast to escape them either. Non, he had to face it all.

Fine.

Oui. Victoria was right, but only partly. Only very partly. There were a few times where he could still feel it, feel that he missed someone. Who? Well, that woman obviously, who else? Well…

Lucien frowned, his eyes still closed. 

Now if he was being honest, he was over her. He had put her in that tin box that was under the ground in a parisian park. She didn’t exist anymore. She was long gone. But he couldn’t help it. Each time he felt that feeling of emptiness creep up on him, he would think of her. It wasn’t because he missed her per se, but rather because he had no one to think about and associate that longing to.

Longing.

Oui, sometimes, very rarely though, the Frenchman longed for someone. Someone to hold, or to be held by. Someone to share his days with, someone to make sure his dreams were peaceful.

"Mon Dieu…"

His jaw relaxed. 

He thought back of these countless times he had someone to warm his bed. Those were surely happier times. But for some reason, he did not miss those the most, even though they did bring some kind of satisfaction… 

"Pfff…" 

He sighed. Enough for the bath. He felt himself spiralling down to useless thoughts. The Frenchman washed himself and exited his bathroom, wearing his bathrobe. In his bedroom, he chose a shirt and trousers and put them on. Lucien went to face the tall mirror next to the entrance to fix his cuffs and tie. 

He stared at himself, his hair disorganised and still damp. He hated his grey, lifeless eyes and frowned, focusing on the tie.

"Bien…" 

[Well…]

He punctuated, as if to turn the page of his mind. He thought back on his mission. 

"The target makes himself rare in public, hm? So be it, but I hope I will be able to at least catch a glimpse of him at The Queen Victoria. To that end, I need Richard's suit… I hope he will be fast. The sooner I go to that place, the better. Actually, maybe I can work on its layout first….? Oui, I shall ask Maurice for a map of the building and maybe a list of frequent clients."

He finished with his tie and went to grab his file. The Frenchman then put everything on the coffee table and sat down on the black leather sofa in front of it. He raised his head to see if there were any clocks on the wall to see the time when-

"Oh…" 

He hadn't realised it but his living room was massive. It was much more spacious than what he had caught a glimpse of as he had entered his suite the first time. Moreover, one side of it was entirely windowed and he could see a good part of the city from it. The view cut his breath short for a moment. But that wasn't what caught his attention first and foremost. Non. 

He stood up and walked to what had caught his eye. 

"Very nice…"

He let the tips of his finger delicately brush the black varnished wood before pulling the stool and sitting down. He opened the long black varnished lid and set his fingers on the keys. 

A piano was sitting in the middle of his living room and he hadn't noticed it for days… 

He looked at his fingers on the white keys. Last time he had seen them like that, the skin was smoother and he could see everything but the age on them. Now of course, it was much different.

What should he play? 

What key to press? What hammer should hit the strings of silence? 

He knew. And started playing.

{To the reader: Listen to Bard by Brad Meldhau on Youtube!}

The first few notes were shy, he didn't dare push the silence away too hard. He just wanted to fill the void, have the melody and the slightly dissonant harmonies talk to him in a way that words couldn't, even in his mother tongue. 

For there are ideas that simply cannot be put into words, they can't be molded into letters and put together into a string like the pearls of a necklace that passes from one to the next. Non. Some ideas cannot be expressed in words but…

But tones, sounds, melodies, harmonies. Those could render those invisible colours of the soul. Non. Music was the only vehicle to take these emotions from within himself and gently blow them out, like he would a fluffy dandelion. Music was the only one who could guide those wordless primitive waves of his insides into the air. 

And at what cost did it all come? As usual and as they say in French 'La fin justifie les moyens' : the end justifies the means. 

Lucien did not care that he would probably sit there for hours on end, he did not care that the sky went from blue, to pink, to orange, to dark as he still sat there, hunched over the ivory keys that hit him repeatedly. Neither did he mind that his back would not forgive him for this. The strain that he put onto his shoulders and his spine, he ignored. Those could wait and be cured easily with some aspirin. For the pain he was easing now with all this, there was no prescription. 

He played relentlessly and it lasted for hours until he could barely see the keys in the darkness of the night. He raised his nose off the keyboard and saw the night city, the buildings standing like black silhouettes only punctuated by yellow-lit windows here and there. 

Lucien took a deep breath and sighed before straightening his back and stretching his shoulders. Now he could feel the back pain. But at least his mind and spirit were empty. He could face life again. So he decided on a late night coffee. He would go on foot too, no need to get the Panthera out for that. 

The Frenchman took his jacket and exited his dark suite.  On his way out he met with Bastian. He signaled him to get closer. 

"Va voir Maurice et demande-lui les plans complets de l'intérieur du Queen Victoria pour moi s'il te plaît." 

[Tell Maurice I need the complete plans of the layout for the Queen Victoria, please.]

The young man nodded. 

"Sure, Sir."

"Thanks."

As he walked out of the hotel, Lucien realised that the city was still pretty busy. Nightclubbers and young people were the faces that he mostly saw as the night was rarely for families with children. 

He stopped at a crossway and lit a cigarette, waiting for the cars to stop passing and let him through. 

He crossed the road and continued, a cigarette between his lips. His feet were choosing the path, he was merely following until he found himself in front of a shop. The neon light at the entrance was blinking in blue and pink. 

Joe's

He pushed the door and the jingle of a bell rang. Lucien could hear the static noise of a radio further in the narrow shop but it wasn't music, no, the background noise covering the voice was too loud for it. It was sports, some match or competition of some sort.

"Look, who it is, eh? Came back for another map?" 

Joe emerged from nowhere. 

"Ah, good evening. Non, I am just…"

Lucien had no idea what he was doing. 

"Just havin' a look, eh? It's fine, take yer time, I'll just be at the radio, we're playin' New Zealand, see?" 

Joe turned his slender silhouette and started walking away. 

"Wait."

He stopped. 

"Can I ask you something, Joe?" 

"O'course, son. What d'you need?" 

"We can go at the counter if you'd prefer to have a seat." Lucien suggested. 

"Oh, long story time, eh? Roight, follow me." 

Given how small the shop was, it only took them a few seconds to arrive at their destination. Joe walked behind the counter and hopped on his tall stool. 

"So, tell me." 

"I would like to ask you what Victoria likes." 

Joe's bushy eyebrows jumped. 

"What?" 

"Does she have any passions? Is there anything she likes to do outside of her working hours?" 

Joe lowered the volume on his radio until it was but a whisper, and pointed an accusative finger at the Frenchman. 

"Oi there, listen. You don't touch my little girl Vicky, alroight?"

"Pardon?" Lucien asked in his native language. 

"Ya heard me alroight. You lay a finger on her hair and I'll find ya! By God, she's half your age, son! You could be her dad! Go find yerself someone who’s really for you!”

“Joe, non, you misunderstood me, I - oh mon Dieu! I hope she isn’t under that impression too… I just… Argh.."

Lucien sighed and put a hand on his brow. 

"Vicky's a good girl."

"I know." The Frenchman answered. "Which is why I am asking you this. I might have offended her and I want to make it up to her."

"What did you do?" 

"She said something that was too true for me to hear. So I left her without adding a word."

"Not exactly well mannered comin' from a posh fellow like you, eh?"

He nodded. 

"Alroight. Tell you what. She's got a collection of comics that she likes. Here's the next issue." 

Joe put a magazine on the counter. 

"Get that to her and apologise."

"Merci."

"T's'alright."

"How much do I owe you?" Lucien asked. 

"Not a cent. You're doin' it for her, which is enough for me. Now go and I hope she'll forgive you."

Lucien took the comics book and raised an eyebrow to Joe. 

"Why?" He asked. 

"'Cause she likes you, the poor thing. She's never had friends to have lunch with before, y'know."

"How do you know about our lunch?" 

"She came here before you did. Brought me me pills. And she talked. But she's back home now. If you wanna see her, you'll have to wait for tomorrow."

"I see. Many thanks, Joe."

"See ya." 

And with the same jingle of the bells, the Frenchman went through the door. On his way back to the hotel, he looked through the window of the restaurant where Victoria worked. The lights were off and it was lifeless. Only the jukebox still shone in a corner of the room.

Lucien went on until he found himself back in the hotel. 

"Evening, Sir." 

He turned and saw Bastian. 

"Bonsoir, Bastien." He answered. 

[Good evening Bastian.]

The young man went to the lift and entered right before the Frenchman slipped in.

"Fifth floor, Sir?" 

"Oui, s'il te plaît."

[Yes, please.]

The doors of the lift slowly slid shut and they both felt it take off the ground floor. 

"Bastien?"

"Yes, Sir?" 

"You can call me just L." 

"Ah, alright, thanks L."

"Tell me, is there anyone who has the rooms around my own?" 

The young man raised an eyebrow at the weird question. 

"I don't think so. And in any case, suite 504 is one of the biggest that we have. It occupies almost a third of the floor. The other rooms are much smaller." 

"I see. Could you double check for me please?" 

"Of course, Sir." 

"Merci bien." 

[Thank you very much.]

The doors of the lift slid open and the Frenchman stepped off.

"I will be waiting for your answer in my room."

"Alright L, I'll just be a minute."

The Frenchman nodded and followed the corridor to his suite. He entered and removed his jacket and shoes. He flipped one of the switches just to have barely enough light to see. He headed straight to the bar where he found a bottle of what looked like wine. He opened it and poured himself a glass.

Ha, wine. 

You can’t call it wine when the cap is a plastic lid that you have to unscrew. Non. Proper wine came in a glass bottle too dark to see the subtle beverage, like black tights on a woman’s slim legs. Barely enough to see its content but more than enough to see its shapes. He drank it and it stung the back of his throat. 

He coughed a few times. He hadn’t expected it to be that acidic. What château was that?! Ah, yes, a local cheap one.  

There was a knock at the door. Lucien went and opened it.

“Ah, Bastien, alors?”

[Ah, Bastian, so?]

“They are all empty and the house will keep them so for you.”

“Parfait. Thank you very much.”

[Perfect.]

“You’re welcome, Sir.”

“Oh, and Bastien?”

“Yes?”

The Frenchman took a step forward, stepping out of his suite, his feet in direct contact with the carpet of the corridor. He adjusted the young man’s tie and his hat.

“There. That is better. If you want to make it, you have to pay attention to the details, mon petit.”

[My little one.]

“Oh, uh, thank you very much, Sir.”

“L.” Lucien corrected him.

“Ah yes, L.”

“Now, good night.”

“G’night, L!”

Lucien watched as the young man walked as light as a feather back to the lift. He smiled to himself and got back inside his suite. 

Without a second thought, he grabbed his glass of wi--whatever that dark, acidic beverage was and went to the piano again. He brought an ashtray and lit a cigarette. 

The Frenchman didn't feel like sleeping despite the late hour of the night. Instead, he repeated some pieces that he knew again and again. And now that he knew he had no neighbours, he didn't hold back his fingers. 

He loosened his tie and gulping down more of the bitter wine, he drummed his fingers on the ivory keys more aggressively, more passionately. 

Non, he wasn't going to sleep that night and God had given him a finely tuned piano. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity. 

His fingers slithered, glided and slammed rhythmically as his bare foot crushed the pedal repeatedly. 

Soon he closed his eyes. He had tamed the keys, they would come under his fingers when he needed them without him even having to ask in any way or another. He shook his head left and right, his cigarette between his lips. 

He had spent minutes that transformed into hours playing. The tie had been thrown away and the shirt had three buttons open as the sweat beaded and rolled down his brow, his eyes still screwed shut. His hair flew after him as his shoulders were jumping in sync with the tempo. The grey and black, wet locks now stuck to his brow or slammed it repeatedly. 

And he didn't know it but the sun was rising and the birds were chirping. 

Lucien rolled the sleeve of his left arm as it was still playing and then did the same to his right hand. 

The sun was rising but his eyes were still closed. The Frenchman would start his day only when his ears and soul would have been nourished enough.

[currahee-gal]

Omg can you give us some slowburn Liebgott? Or any Liebgott? Also your Toye fic was excellent!!!

WOW THIS ONE IS SUPER OLD! And wait…did somebody say slowburn??? Because do I HaVe A tReAt FoR yOu!! I really hope you like this Liebgott slowburn. I put my blood, sweat and tears into it. And thank you so much!!

The Five Times Joe Liebgott Almost Kissed Her (and the One Time She Did It for Him)

Pairing: Joe Liebgott x Reader

Warnings: Frustration, angst, minor character death, Liebgott being a dorky jerk, reader being a dorky jerk back, lots and lots of cursing, fluffy, honestly it has a little bit of everything except smut so. Please also watch out for misspellings, grammatical errors, as well as overall awkward sentence phrasing. This took a very long time to write and I am very tired. Mostly edited, but I’m not perfect.

Word count: 7,220 (oops my finger slipped)

A/N: Did somebody say slowburn?!?! You request, I deliver. This monster is finally finished and all I can say is thank goodness it is. I really hope you guys enjoy this. I did. I love Liebgott. Send me more Liebgott because I love him. These stories are solely based on the actors from the Band of Brothers series, not on the actual heroes

The hunting party watched the deer flee into the forest in annoyance. Joe slumps his shoulders and groans.

“Oh damn it Shifty, you let ‘em get away! Army oughtta be glad to be rid of you.”

Shifty nods a little before lowering his M-1. “I wish, you know? It seems they want me to stay around a while.”

“Are you serious?” Liebgott’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“How many points you need?” Malarkey asks on the other side of the line.

“15.” Shifty sighs, turning his head to Malark.

“15? Jesus Christ, I thought I had it bad.” Malarkey sighed in disbelief. Shifty shrugged and readjusted the firearm in his grip.

“No purple hearts, never was injured.” With his statement, Shifty took a step forward, the rest of the party following.

There was a long moment of silence that followed. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of birds chirping and the crunching of twigs and dry leaves under their army issued boots. It was broken by Malarkey with a statement that made everyone perk up.

“God, if Shifty ain’t goin’ home…”

Liebgott immediately thought of you. He flashed on the conversation he had with you at breakfast this morning.

-

“Can I have your toast?” You asked, your voice still filled with sleep and your eyes cloudy. Joe shrugged.

“I don’t know Y/N, can you?” Joe sneered, glancing up at you from his eggs and potatoes.

“Joseph David Liebgott, may I please have your toast, for Pete’s sake?” You groaned, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. He smiled and shrugged.

“Yes you may.” Joe handed you the warm, buttered slice of bread.

You mumbled a “thanks” as you took a bite of the slice.

Joe poked at his potatoes with his fork for a moment before peeking up at you. You were staring out the window, the sun was hitting your face and making your gorgeous eyes sparkle in the morning light. He also noticed the dark circles under your eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You whipped her head to face him, looking startled. He could see your thought shrinking smaller in your eyes. He felt his chest tighten with a pang of guilt.

“You okay?” Joe put down his fork and furrowed his brows at you worriedly.

The look that came over your features made his stomach churn with worry. Your skin turned pale and your eyes darted down to stare at the contents of your coffee mug. He saw your hands tighten around the cup, your knuckles starting to turn white. He could tell you were debating something in your head. He noticed your jaw clench and unclench as you took a glance out the window again. After a moment, brought the mug to your lips and closed your eyes, taking an inhale before heaving a deep sigh.

“Winters pulled me aside last night. I’m five points shy of going home. I’m being shipped back out.”

-

“Y/N isn’t going home either.” Joe muttered.

“What do ya mean?” Malarkey almost hollered.

“What do ya think I mean?!” Joe yelled back, spit flying from his mouth as he spoke. “She’s five points short.”

“You’re kidding.” Perconte sputtered, shocked. “Christ, it don’t matter if she’s got the points or not, send the poor girl home. She’s been through enough…”

Bull started laughing a little, making the group of men turn their heads to the gentle giant.

“You’d think that after everything, she and Liebgott would’ve gotten married by now.”

This made everyone chuckle, except Joe.

“What the hell are you guys talkin’ about?! I-”

“Oh come on Liebgott,” Ramirez shook his head at his friend. “Don’t play dumb.”

“The two of you have been dancing around your feelings for each other since we were running up Currahee. Don’t try to deny it!” Malarkey grinned. Joe shook his head, a fuzzy feeling bubbling in his chest.

“You guys are nuts. I haven’t even kissed her.”

“You’ve known her for three fuckin’ years now and you haven’t even kissed her yet?! You’re the one that’s nuts, pal.” Perconte chuckled.

“But they have come pretty close a couple of times, if I do remember correctly.” Bull snickered.

Joe blinked a couple times, the memory floodgates bursting open.

1. Lunchtime

The stale summer air lingered in the dining hall at Camp Toccoa. Joe sat in front of his lunch, which looked meatloaf, but he honestly couldn’t tell. All of Easy was exhausted from running Currahee so there wasn’t much talking going on at the table. That was until Webster slapped Joe’s shoulder a couple times.

“What do you want, Web?” Joe drawled.

“Look, it’s her.” Web pointed to the girl in line to get food. Everyone in Easy had heard about the female NCO in their company, but few had been brave enough to try and talk to her. People say she’s fairly quiet and keeps to herself, but she’s impressive. Joe had seen your while running, you were quite the athlete.

“So? She’s just gettin’ her lunch. Big fuckin’ deal.” Joe glances up at you as you start walking towards the tables and soon passes by the two of them.

“Have you talked to her?” Webster glances over his shoulder to see you sit down with Luz and Toye a few tables down. Joe shakes his head, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No, don’t even know her name.” Joe gets up from the table, grabbing his tray.

“Where are you going?” Web asked.

“Jesus, Web, quit grilling me! ‘M not hungry, this food is fuckin’ disgusting. I’ll be right back. Try not to miss me too much.” Joe gets up and starts making his way towards the kitchen window. He places his tray on the counter and gives the chef a tight smile. Just as he turns to leave, he runs straight into somebody.

“Jesus, watch where you’re going!” Joe looks down to see the girl standing right in front of him. Now that he’s up close, he can see when people have been ogling at you since you’ve stepped foot on camp. You’re fucking gorgeous.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No, I’m sorry. The heat’s getting to me, my patience is weathering away.” Joe muttered an apology, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s fine, that run has me exhausted too.” You smiled a little, making his heart skip a beat. Joe clears his throat once or twice before attempting to casually lean up against the counter.

“So, you’re the new chick, right?” Joe asked, just realizing how stupid that sounded when it left his mouth.

You nod, sighing as you extend your hand. “Haven’t seen any other girls wandering around, so yeah, sure. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Liebgott, Joe.” He shakes your hand. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke, thanks though.” You kindly declined. Joe shrugs and lights his smoke.

“So, what brings you here?”

“What brings me to war? I want to fight for my country and show that a woman can do it just as good as any man.” You take a step closer as you speak. “But if you’re asking me why I came here to the-”

Joe mirrors your action, taking a step forward. You look a little taken aback when he does. You clear your throat as you look up at him, your faces inches away from each other. “Sorry, but can I please squeeze by you? I need to get to the salt.” You cough, looking down at your boots.

“Hm?” Joe cocks an eyebrow, turning around to see about a dozen salt and pepper shakers behind where he was just standing.

“That’s why I came to the counter… I needed some salt…” You meekly point to the shakers. “Whoever set the tables didn’t give us one.” You say with a simple tone, glancing up into his deep brown eyes. You feel your stomach fill with butterflies when you do, so you look at your fidgeting hands. He’s still so close.

Joe blinks, confused for a moment before he steps out of your way. You take the salt shaker and start making your way back to the tables. “It was nice talking with you, Liebgott.” And with a wave, you leave Joe standing there looking like a blushy fool.

“She was tryin’ to get fuckin’ salt?” Joe was kicking mentally himself. What the fuck was he thinking? That you were trying to make a move on him, so he meets you halfway? When all you really wanted was fucking salt?! Good one, Liebgott. Real fuckin’ smooth. Great first impression.

Joe looks to see you already back at your table, laughing at something George had said. Joe crosses his arms as he starts walking back to his seat with David.

“Hey Lieb-”

“Shut the fuck up for once, will ya Webster?”

2. The Party

The celebration was in full swing and the music could barely be heard above the cheering. Liebgott was chatting with Popeye and Talbert, drinking beers and laughing.

“So, Liebgott,” Tab slurred with a wolfish grin. “People have seen you gettin’ closer with Y/L/N.”

“Yeah,” Popeye smirked. “What’s all that about?”

You and Joe had gotten closer since you had met at that one lunchtime. He had learned that you were just a little shy, but once he started talking to you, you were a real hoot. The rest of the company learned that too over time. He had earned the title “Pretty Boy” (a pet name bestowed upon him by you, of course). That was another thing that the company had learned quickly. For some reason you, seemingly, favored Joseph David Liebgott.

Joe grins and shakes his head. “So I talk to her, what a scandal! C’mon, guys, so I hang out with the girl. What’s the matter with that?”

“Nothin’ it’s just- ” Tab trailed off and stared at something behind Joe. When Joe turned around, he saw you and Donald Malarkey go to the small open space at the front of the room and start to swing dance. He’s spinning you around and lifting you and your smiling and laughing. Joe feels his heart stutter at the sight, but something in his chest swells. He wanted to make you feel like that. Was he jealous? He would never admit it, but yeah, probably.  

“Tab?” Joe turns to his friend. “Hold my beer.”

“Lieb-” Tab tries to say something but Joe is already on the move. By the time he reaches the pair, the song is coming to an end.

“Can I cut in?” Joe holds his hand out for you to take. You glance over at a now pouting Don, and him a sympathetic smile as you leave his arms and take Joe’s hand.

“I don’t know, can you?” You pull Joe out onto the floor.

“Smartass.” Joe tsks.

“You know, it’s not very polite to address a woman like that. You’re being a bit of an ass.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry ma’am.”    

Just then, a slower paced song begins to play. Joe glances up to see Luz and Tab standing by the record player, Tab raising his beer in the air, mouthing “cheers” and Luz grinning the biggest grin Joe has ever seen. Joe rolls his eyes at the pair before places his right hand on your waist and takes your right hand in his left. You begin to sway to the music flowing from into the room.

“You’re hair looks good, Lieb.”

“Gee, thanks! I washed it.” Joe grins and he spins you and pulls you back to him.

“I didn’t take you for much of a dancer.” You observed with a smirk. “I saw you more as a ‘stand-in-the-corner-and-brood-with-a-beer’ kind of guy.”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me yet, sweets.” Joe shrugged.

“Joe Liebgott, full of surprises.”

“Tell me about it.” Joe nodded with a chuckle. “How’s your night so far?”

“I missed dancing. My older brother Stanley and I used to go dancing every Saturday.” Your face lit up at the mention of your brother. Joe smiles and nods.

“You gotta brother?”

“Two. I got my older brother Stanley and my younger brother Brian. Stan enlisted in the Navy and Brian’s only fourteen so he’s stuck at home with Mom. He’s probably bored out of his mind.”

“Navy, that’s impressive.” Joe remarked with a smirk. You nodded.

“He’s an impressive guy. Bull reminds me of Stan. Big guy. Looks like he could snap you in half but he’s a real sweetheart, ya know?” You laugh and Joe laughs along with you. Watching you laugh made Joe’s chest prickle with some kind of feeling. It made him pause, but he put it out of mind.

“Bet he scared off all your boyfriend’s that came knocking on your door, huh?” Liebgott gushed, not being able to stop himself. He felt his cheeks warm out of embarrassment for asking such a forward question so boldly, but you just seemed to laugh it off.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

You two danced for a few moments, swaying to the music in each others arms. You lean your cheek on his chest and Joe tenses for a moment.

“What about you?” You wonder out loud, your voice almost in a whisper.

“What about me?” Joe questions, glancing down at you. He noticed your head fit perfectly right under his chin. The thought made his lips twitch into a smile.

“You got a broad back home waiting for you to come home after all of this is over?” You bring your head up from his shoulder to look back at him, noses practically touching. You could feel Joe’s heart beating in his chest and he could feel yours. Joe shakes his head.

“Nope, just me.” Suddenly his confidence slowly leaves his body, his voice low and almost wavering. He was looking right back into your eyes, and he felt himself drowning. You were so close to him, he could smell your perfume. It was intoxicating.

His eyes slowly drifted down to your lips, which were painted a bright cherry red. You bit your bottom lip, your hand slowly snaking its way behind his neck.

“Lucky me…” You sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

Joe closes his eyes, he starts to lean in and-

scrEEEE

“TEN-HUT!”

The two of you leap apart from each other and stand at attention. Colonel Sink struts into the room with Major Strayer and Winters and Nixon off to the side. Joe sighs with a defeated look evident on his face. He glances over at you to catch you already looking at him. You quickly flick your gaze back to the Colonel.

Colonel Sink gives a short speech detailing how proud he was of the company.

“I want you to know that I’m damned proud of each and every one of you. However, I would like to take a moment to recognize Corporeal Y/N Y/L/N. You’ve shown just what it means to be a fine soldier and paratrooper, and you, m’dear, set the bar high for these men and for everyone that follows. You’re making history here. Congratulations, Corporeal.” The Colonel smiles down at you.

You feel yourself flush red as the who company starts to cheer your name and you salute Sink. “Thank you, Sir.”

He gives you a nod and turns his attention back to the crowd. “Now you deserve this party.”

Chuck comes up with a pint of beer for the Colonel, to which Sink thanks him.

“Now I want you to have fun, and remember our motto. Currahee!”

“Currahee!” The entire company shouts. And with that, the celebration resumes. Chuck and Popeye approach you with a pat on the back and a hugs.

“Congrats, Corporeal.” Popeye mimics Sink with a smirk. You laugh and give him a slap on the shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up now. I’ll be outranking you suckers by Christmas, just wait and see.” The group that had formed around you laughed. You glanced around the group and your eyes locked with Liebgott. He smiled as he gave you a quick once over before taking a sip of his beer. You smiled, your cheeks flushed a pink tint.

This was going to be a long war.

3. Normandy

To say that Joe was stressed about the jumps into Normandy would be an accurate assumption. To say that Joe was stressed about not being with you on the jump into Normandy would be an extreme understatement. He knew you would be fine (only because you reassured him before going your separate ways) but he couldn’t help it.

Neither of you have spoken about that night since it happened. If someone else tried to bring it up around you two, they would get shot down immediately and were told to drop the topic. He couldn’t tell if you never brought it up because you were embarrassed it happened and just wanted to forget about it, or for whatever reason. He tried not to think about it. Despite that, he could safely say that, by this point, you were one of his closest friends he had made on this journey thus far. And maybe he had deeper feelings than just friendship, but he didn’t have to tell anybody that. Ever.

When Liebgott got to the assembly area, you were nowhere to be found. A couple people from your plane had arrived, so all he could do is wait and he hope for the best. He sat on a dirt mound with Joe Toye and a couple others as they waited for instructions.

“Relax, Lieb. She’ll get here.” Toye tried to help his friend relax.

“What? Nah, I’m fine. I’m worried about the other guys too. They’ll get here, I know.” He muttered, trying to keep a cool composure. Toye scoffed.

“Whatever you say.”

His hopes only got higher as he saw a group of Easy men walk in.

“Ah, Easy Company.” He greeted, getting to his feet. After greeting his fellow E company men, as well as this Hall character from A company, we turned to sit back down. Then, his ears perked up.

“Pretty boy!” Joe heard you cheer from down the road. To your left was Bill Guenere, grinning like a cat as he watched you practically skipped to Liebgott.

“Glad you could finally make an appearance.” Joe teased as he engulfed you in a sweaty hug.  

“You know me, always making an entrance and showing up fashionably late.” You giggled.

“Fashionably?” Joe reaches out and smudges the tar still on your face. You flinch and smack his hand away.

“Like you look so dapper yourself. What happened to your hair?” You reach out and ruffle his brown locks. He scrunches his nose and grabs your wrist and puts it back at your side.

“It’s called jumping out of plane, try it some time, sweetheart.” He sneered.

“Actually I just did, and I think I still look pretty good if I do say so myself. And I do say so.” You rebbuttled with a smirk.

“Y/N Y/L/N, cocky as ever.” He teased.

“Me? Cocky? Take a look in the mirror, you scruffy little-”

“Scruffy?! Fuck off!”

“You fuck off!”

“Love birds, please! Can we keep it moving? We have a war to fight and Nazis to kill. You’re bickering is disgustingly adorable, just get hitched already.” Bill announced, a grin plastered on his face as the fellow E company men started chuckling at the scene. He sauntered off, but not before shaking his head and muttering a “Jesus Christ”.

The two of you watched him go and take a glance at each other before you fall into a fit of giggles. He hooks his arm around her shoulders and guides her down the path.

“Got me worried there for a second. Thought a Kraut ate ya or somethin’.” Joe snickered as you gasped at him.

“A Kraut? Eat me?! Please, I’d shoot ‘em if they got within a hundred feet of me.” You groaned, a smile blooming onto your face.

Joe opened his mouth to respond when a boom echoed in the distance. Joe held you closer as he looked up to the sky. When he looked down, you were scanning the area with wide eyes. He squeezed your shoulder.

“You scared?” He asked in a lower tone, half joking, half serious. You flinched for a second, flicking your gaze to meet his. You nodded, not seeming confident.

“Liebgott, I just jumped out of an airplane and trekked eight kilometers through a warzone in the pitch dark. I fear nothing.” You stepped out of his grasp and turned to look at him. “You?”

“Never.” He replied, not really convinced by his own words. You nodded and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Good.”

And with that, you turned and walked off to join Toye and Buck.

Joe watched you go, the sound of gunshots firing off in the distance. Suddenly, it was all very real to him. The honeymoon phase was over and it was time to get down to business. There was a good chance that they weren’t going to make it out of this alive, and that scared the shit out of him. But he couldn’t focus on that. Not now. So, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and put his fears in the back of his mind.

-

Joe couldn’t stand it in the back of the truck anymore. The stench made him wanna hurl. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jesus! Get me outta here.” Joe hopped out from the back of the truck, hearing Sergeant Lipton yell something about “light discipline”, but Joe couldn’t get out of there faster.

He started walking down the street, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he passed dozens of soldiers. As he walked, he saw a silhouette leaning against a stone wall standing on the side of the road ahead. Without much thought, he knew it was you. As he approached you, he saw you picking at her nails, probably trying to get the dirt out from under them. Your helmet was by your feet, giving Joe a rare look at your hair shining in the moonlight.

“Evening, Miss.” Joe greeted, making your head turn to see him. Even in the dark, he saw the small smile appear on your face.

“Evening to you too, Mister.” You greeted as you adjusted your stance so you were standing a little taller, but still leaning against the wall.

“Want some company? You looked a little lonesome.” Joe stood in front of you now. You shrugged, glancing down at your shoes.

“Just in my thoughts is all.” That was the only thing you could muster. After all, it had been a long ass day.

“Penny for ‘em?” Joe moved to lean against the wall with you. You didn’t really say anything at first, you just kinda stared into space, but Joe nudged you with his elbow. “Oh c’mon, don’t go all shy on me now. It’s just me, you can talk to me. I’m your Pretty Boy, remember?” Joe teased, making you smile. God, he loved that smile.

“Joe Liebgott, what would I do without you?” You sighed.

“Enlighten me. What would you do? My curiosity is piqued.” Joe smirked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“I’d probably be bored out of my mind.” You confessed, turning to look up at him. “You’ve kept me smiling through the whole time I’ve known you. Don’t get me wrong, I love Luz, he’s a crack up, but you’ve kept me on my toes.”

He creased his eyebrows.

“Corporeal, have you been drinking?” Joe asked, not really expecting such a genuine answer. You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“Just take the compliment, Liebgott.” You groaned. He chuckled and nodded.

Just then, a car rumbled by, its headlights shining towards them as it drove by. With the passing flash of light, Joe noticed a cut on your right cheek.

“Woah, what happened?” Joe cupped your cheek and ran his thumb lightly over the wound.

“What? The scratch? It’s nothing.” You reached up to grab his wrist and pull it away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Has Gene looked at it yet?”

“Lieb-”

“How’d you get that?”

“Lieb, really I’m fine-”

“It looks like it’s deep, you might need stitches. Here, I’ll take you to go see Doc-”

“Joe!” You grabbed his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I’m fine. I already went to go see Doc, he said I was fine. It was just a graze from some shrapnel earlier today-”

“When the hell did you get hit with fucking shrapnel, Y/N?!” Joe shouted, the vain starting to pop out on his temple.

“I don’t fucking know, Lieb! I was trying to survive while I was being shot at by a bunch of Krauts! Shit happens.” Y/N snarled back. “And to be completely honest, it coulda been a whole lot fucking worse. This litte papercut compared to what happend to some of the guys today, so if you could stop yelling that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”

The two of you just sized each other up for a moment before Joe slouched against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry…you’re right.” He muttered, sounding exhausted.

“It’s alright,” You nod, looking straight ahead at the passing soldiers. “Never thought you cared so much…”

Joe scoffed at your words, shaking his head.

“‘Course I fuckin’ care.” Joe pulled you into him, wrapping his long arms around you, resting his chin on your head and engulfing you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your left cheek against his chest. He slowly started to pet your hair as you tighten your grip around his middle. “Maybe I care a little too much sometimes.” He muttered, not really meaning for you to hear. But of course you did.

You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. “I care about you too, Joe.”

God dammit he couldn’t take it.

“Y/N, I gotta ask ya somethin’-”

“Easy Company! Get your gear, we’re moving out!” He heard an officer call out over the crowd. You groaned, burying your face in Joe’s chest.

“I gotta go grab my stuff, I’ll catch up with you?” You smiled sympathetically at Joe, who nodded.

“Yeah, sure. See ya.” Joe waved and watched you jog off to God knows where. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to scream. Instead, he banged his fist against the stone wall a little too hard.

“Fuck!” He cringed, shaking the pain out of his hand.

He was in deep shit.

4. Bastogne

It’s cold. So fucking cold that Joe thought his balls would freeze and fall off. Everyone in Easy was miserable, but after Colonel Sink’s visit, everyone seemed to be in semi lighter spirits. Joe surveyed the crowd, looking for his best friend, but he couldn’t see her.

“Hey Shift?” Joe turned to Shifty.

“Yeah, Joe?” Shifty looked over at Joe, tightly bundled from head to toe.

“You’ve seen Y/N?” Joe asked, taking another glance around. “Haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“Have you checked her foxhole?” Shifty queried.

“Of course I have.” Joe groaned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It was the first place I looked.”

“Mess hall tent?” Shifty tried again.

“Tried there.”

“Is she on patrol?”

“No, checked with Lip about that a bit ago.”

After a pause, Shifty pointed through the trees with a gloved hand.

“Is she sitting on that log down that way?”

Joe turned around to see your from sitting on a log with your back to them. Joe nodded.

“Thanks Shift.” And without waiting for a response, Joe started trudging through the snow.

A lot has happened since Normandy. With time, you both got closer, if that was even possible. With that, you both bickered a lot. Replacements would come in and assume the two of you were a married couple that enlisted together. The funny thing was when they asked, the NCOs didn’t tell them otherwise.

You had opened up to him about life back home, too. You told him everything from you first pet’s name to your first heartbreak. You recounted painfully awkward Thanksgiving dinners the one time your brothers put Brian’s pet frog in your bed as a prank and how you jumped so high, you could have hit the ceiling. He enjoyed hearing about your life back home, but he thinks you’re doing it more for yourself rather than just for the sake of telling stories. It was one of the only ways it could keep you from flying off the rails.

Joe finally made his way over to you and plopped himself down on the log next to you.

“Y/N, where were ya? Sink just dropped by for a lovely visit, did ya hear him? Nuts!” Joe laughed, and bumped your shoulder.

When he looked over at you, you weren’t laughing. You weren’t even looking at him. Your gaze was fixed straight ahead, unblinking and blank. Your knees were brought up to your chin as you shivered in the cold.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Joe softened his tone, feeling the heavy silence in the air. It was almost suffocating when her expression remained the same. He moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on top of your knees. “Y/N? What’s the matter, talk to me.”

You finally looked at him, eyes turning glassy. You swallowed thickly as you grabbed the opened envelope sitting by you on the log. You held it up and took a shaky breath.

“Letter from my mom.” Your voice cracked as you spoke and looked at the neat cursive handwriting on the front. Joe saw your lip began to quaver as you took a quick inhale. “My brother’s dead.” You handed Joe the envelope with a shaky hand.

“Jesus…” Joe took the envelope from you and examined it with darting eyes.

“He was in Micronesia somewhere. Peleliu or some shit like that…” You wiped a stray tear from your cheek and looked at your hands in your lap. “Killed in action.”

“Y/N I- fuck…I’m so sorry-”

“Merry fucking Chrismas, right?” You whispered. Then, you broke down. You head fell into your hands as you started to sob. Joe jumped up and held you.

“Shhh…hey you’re okay…” Joe muttered into your hair, rocking you back and forth as you cried into his coat. He felt your hands grip at his jacket in tight fists, clinging to him. He didn’t really know what to do, he’s never seen you cry before. Not even when you rolled your ankle while running Currahee in Toccoa and you still made it back down the hill. You never cried.

After a couple of minutes, you calmed down and you were reduced to whimpers. Joe pulled away and wiped his thumbs across your wet cheeks. Your scratch from Normandy and had scarred over now.

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his, you eyes screwed shut.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize. Never fuckin’ say sorry for something like that.” Joe snapped back sternly. You nodded.

“Okay.”

You opened your eyes to look at Joe staring back at you with a gentle intensity. His hands still cupped your cheeks and held you close. Joe glanced at your lips before licking his dry ones. Despite being chapped and swollen from crying, you still looked just as beautiful that night you were all dressed up for the party. And he wanted to kiss you even more now than he did then.

“Y/L/N, you okay?” Malarkey had just happen to walk by the scene in front of him, his can of food in hand. You pulled your head from Lieb’s hands, sighing. Joe’s hands drop to his lap with a loud smack.

“Yeah, fine.” You smiled tightly, turning to Malarky.

“You sure? You don’t look too good. Maybe go and grab some hot chow?-”

“On it, Malark.” You cut him off, followed by a curt nod. Malarkey turned his hands up in surrender and walked off to join Muck and Penkala.

You grab the letter off the snowy ground and stuff it in your pocket.

“I’m goin’ for a walk, I’ll catch ya later, Lieb.” You muttered quickly before standing.

“I’ll go with you-”

“No that’s fine, Joe. Go grab some lunch, I’ll be back.” Just like that, you zipped off into the fog without another word or a glance back.

Later that night, he walked past your foxhole on the way back from taking a piss. And there you were, wrapped up in a blanket, shivering, with a cigarette hanging from your mouth.

“Thought you didn’t smoke.” He whispered, not wishing to startle you or disturb other foxholes. You look up at him from your hole and shrugged as you took the cigarette from your lips and blew out a stream of smoke.

“I don’t.” You said simply. Joe nodded.

“You gonna be okay?”

“…I will be.” You assured him.

Suddenly BOOM! German artillery started bursting in the sky. Joe jumped into your foxhole with you as you both tried to shield yourself from any shrapnel. The blasts were short lived and soon they were given the all clear. Joe looks over at you as he moves to get to his feet.

“Thanks for your hospitality.” He said with a little laugh. “I guess I’ll see you-”

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay with me. Please.” Your voice was so soft and meek, it surprised Joe. Your eyes were pleading. “Just for the night.”

“Yeah, of course.” Joe nodded, laying back down on the dirt.

“Thank you.” You whispered before you cuddled into Joe’s chest.

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. He fell asleep almost instantaneously.

However, when he woke up in the morning, you were gone.

5. The Truck Ride

You didn’t talk to Joe a lot after that. You really didn’t talk to anybody after that. After you got news of your brother, you really didn’t want to talk to anybody. With Joe, you wanted to talk to him, but you were afraid to because after that night, you were so afraid because you might have been falling for the guy. So, you kept your distance the rest of your time in Bastogne, and barely spared him a glance while Easy was up in Haguenau. He really could have used your company then, Webster was being a real pain in the ass. You finally started talking to him again in the back of the trucks on your way to Bavaria.

“Can I have one of those?” You croaked as Lieb lit a cigarette.

“So she speaks? You finally talkin’ to me now?” Joe sneered with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, smoke billowing from his lips.

“Joe-”

“You barely spoken a word to me since Christmas and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, it’s April now and the first thing you say to me is you ask me for a cigarette?”

“It’s a start, isn’t it?” You mutter, not breaking eye contact with the seething eyes piercing back at you. “Look I’m sorry, I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“The nerve on you-”

“Quit soundin’ like my mother, Joe. My brother died and suddenly you get all butt hurt when I needed some goddamn space for two fucking seconds. I apologized, now can I or can I not have a cigarette?”

Joe looked at you for a moment. Your eyes had lost some luster he remembers you having a long time ago. Your eyes are sunken like you haven’t slept since Normandy. Even your hair had lost the brightness in color. He sighed as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

“I don’t know, can you?” He says with the slightest hint of a smile creeping onto his face. He hands you the cigarette. You take it and put it in your mouth and lean forward, looking expectantly at Joe. “Oh, you want me to light it for you too, your majesty?”

“Mhmm.” You hum with a nod of your head and a roll of Joe’s eyes as he pulls out his Zippo.

“I have to do everything in this fucking relationship-”

“Shut up.”  You laugh as you pull the lit cigarette from your mouth and blow smoke in his face. He smirked at you, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You know, it’s not very polite to blow smoke in someone’s face. You’re being a bit of an ass.”

You smiled and shook your head in disbelief. “Deja vu.”

“Tell me about it.” Joe smiled back.

After a moment of silence, David decided to pipe up.

“What about you, Y/N?” Webster asked.

“What about me?”

“What are you gonna do when you get home?” Webster took a bite his food as he awaited for your answer. You ran a hand through your hair as it flowed in the breeze.

“Home? Jeez, I don’t know. Hug my family?” You laughed.

“We’re all gonna do that. I mean life stuff. Got any plans?”

“Well,” you paused, thinking about it for a second. You haven’t given it much thought lately. “I’d start off by getting a job. Maybe waitressing or something like that, that’s what I did before the war. Then,” you paused, glancing up at Joe, who was already staring at you with some kind of look in his eyes. You couldn’t look away.

“Then I’d probably find someone to settle down with. Have a kid or two, and try to have a normal fucking life that is far away from this shithole. Try and be happy.” You finished but taking a drag.

“That’s a good goal.”

“Gee, thanks Web.” You muttered sarcastically.

“That sounds real nice.” Joe said, a soft smile appearing on his lips. You nodded.

“Sure does.”

-

After making a stop, the seating got switched up. Now you were sitting next to Joe, his arm around you as you fell asleep on his shoulder. Joe looked down at you, warmth spreading in his chest for the first time in a long time. You were back, and you looked so peaceful.

“Jesus, Lieb, just kiss her already.” Web laughed across from Joe.

“You’re lookin’ at her with the biggest heart eyes I’ve ever seen.” Luz chuckled. “Are you ever gonna tell her how you feel?”

“Will you both shut up?!” Joe spoke between his teeth. “She could wake up and hear you knuckleheads.”

“Lieb, she’s knocked out cold.” Perconte observed from down the row.

“Can you blame her??” Joe asked, his voice suddenly sorrowful. The boys glanced at you. They had to admit, they haven’t seen you actually sleep since you found out about Stan.

The car goes over a rather large bump in the road, waking you up with a start.

“Morning, Sunshine! How was your nap?” Luz drawled throwing his baseball in the air. You yawned and lay back against Joe.

“Fine. I had a dream about you, Pretty Boy.” You muttered, closing your eyes again.

“Oh did you now?!” Luz exclaimed, throwing Joe a knowing look and smirk.

“Pray tell.” Web piped in.

“Well,” You put your chin on Joe’s shoulder and turned to face him. “You, sir,” you poked his cheek. “Were going on and on and on about something beyond boring when I up and punched you square in the jaw. And even in my dreams, you don’t change a bit, because even after I hit you, you would not shut the hell up!”

This made the entire car laugh, even Joe. When he turned his head to you, he bumped his nose with yours.

“Sorry.” He murmured, pulling his head back a little. You shrugged.

“It’s okay.” and in a brave moment, you leaned forward and rubbed the tip of your nose to his in an eskimo kiss. “G’night.” and with that, you fell against his shoulder and started to snore. Everyone in the car was staring at him with wide eyes and hanging mouths. Joe could only shrug.

-

Easy Company had decided to play a company baseball game. It was a warm day, partially cloudy. It was perfect.

“I wanna play!” You squealed. Buck arched a brow at you.

“You know how?”

You scoffed and grabbed a glove out of the box next to the batting cage. “Buck, I grew up the middle child of two boys. Yes, I know how to play.”

“Alright, play ball then, I guess.” He laughed, his chest rumbling.

After playing for a few hours, hitting a line drive and throwing a couple guys out, they jokingly declared you Easy Company’s Rookie of the Year. The peace was disturbed by Speirs.

“Easy Company! School circle!”

As the company gathered around Major Winters, Liebgott pulled you under his arm and you wrapped an arm around his middle.

“You never told me you played ball so well.” He said barely above a whisper. You snickered and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Liebgott.”

“Touché.”  

“Listen up!” Winters announced, glancing at the two of you with a small smile. “We’ve got some news. This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese. The war is over.”

You felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs. For a couple moments no one moved, probably afraid that if they did, they would wake up from this crazy dream we all must be having. You laughed a little and looked up at Joe. He smiled and nodded.

“We did it.” He grinned.

“Yeah we did!” You responded. Soon, the men started to disperse. You however, jumped into Joe’s arms and wrapped your legs around his torso as he held you up.

“We made it!” You squealed. Joe laughed and put you down.

“I knew we would.”

Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his. He responded immediately by cradling the back of your head and holding you as close as possible. You could hear cheering from the men around you.

“Fuckin’ finally!”

“It’s about time.”

“We’ve only waited three damn’ years for that to happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m more relieved that the war is over or that their finally sucking faces.”

“Yes! Hey Bull, you owe me thirty bucks!”

When you broke apart, Joe was panting with the biggest smile you have ever seen on his face.

“Come back home to San Francisco with me? We could make that dream of yours happen.”

“The one where I punch you in the face?” Your face scrunched up in confusion.

“No, dufus,” he laughed as he cupped your cheeks. “Settle down, fall in love, get hitched.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“Well I’m already in love with you, so you can check that off your list.” You grinned.

“God, I love you Y/N. Never leave my side.”

“I don’t plan on it. C’mon, let’s get home.”

Taglist: 

@gottapenny

[bohrapbois]

Hideaway CHAPTER 9

CHECK OUT THE WHOLE WORK ON AO3 - Just_Call_Me_Floss

Ben had no freaking idea what was going on. Five minutes ago he called one of his closest friends to admit his feelings for their mutual friends, had been told he was an idiot and basically everyone knew already, asked how the holiday was going and was now listening as dear old Gwil was lecturing him on safe sex.

“Uh yeah, I know-” Ben attempted to cut across his ranting friend but was shut down before he was successful.

“No! It’s important! Everything needs to be prepared Ben, everything!” 

“Ok mate, I get it-” again, cut down before he could get much further.

Ben sat on the floor, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on his joggers. At least he wasn’t hyperventilating like he had been before. He let Gwil carry on the one-sided conversation as he let his mind wander. How long had he been feeling like this? How long had he been denying his feelings? Everyone seemed to have assumed they’d been together for ages and just decided not to go public with it. Did Joe even feel the same way? Oh god, what happens if he didn’t? Ben felt a claw of panic embed itself into his chest and he let out a panicked gasp, his body decided it needed to be elsewhere right now, as if if he moved, he’d leave that thought behind, but as Ben stumbled to his feet and rushed towards a different section of the room, the dark thought followed and only became heavier on his chest.

Gwil seemed to have heard the panicked noise, and was now trying to get Ben to explain what was going on, but Ben’s brain was only focused on getting away from the thought, and he clumsily side stepped into some of the lockers, the loud metal clang making his shout in panic as he dropped the phone. Fingers feeling difficult to use, Ben desperately leant down and tried to pick up the phone, and with a few annoyed and panicked whines, he managed to get some sort of grip. Using the lockers for stability, Ben got onto the floor, kneeling in the corner of the room as he gasped a few breathes. “Joe doesn’t like me”, he half whispered, his throat feeling too tight as anxiety tears built in his eyes, “he can’t find out because he’d hate me if he did and I want him in my life even if only as a friend because I don’t want to loose him and if that means I never say it then I don’t care I’ll just get rid of the feelings and then it won’t be a problem anymore and-” Ben let his mind run away with his mouth, the unstopped rambling of his anxiety taking over as his brain overflowed.

Gwil could hear the fear through the speaker on his phone, and even though he was thousands of miles away, all he wanted to do was to grab Ben and hold him tightly. Ben had told them a couple weeks into filming that he suffered from anxiety, that he found it difficult to cope sometimes, and it’s probably that which caused him and Joe to grow closer. Mazzello was like a calming device for Ben, and it usually resulted in Joe sticking close to the blond whenever it became too much, and Gwil and Rami had both walked in a few times to find Ben curled up against Joe’s side, neither of them speaking yet content together. So it hadn’t shocked Gwil when he saw the love struck looks they shared with one another, or the way they would shamelessly flirt with each other, but it was more shocking that neither of them had noticed. 

“Ben, Ben, please just breath for a minute,” Gwil, now sat up in his bed, could feel his own heartbeat growing rapidly with fear for his friend. He heard a shuddering gasp, followed by another, and Gwil did some steadier breathing, loud enough that Ben could hear. It took them a long time, Gwil was now standing in the kitchen with some tea, but Ben was able to breath a bit easier. Muscled shoulders were now leaning against the lockers behind, the claw in Bens chest was now leaving, yet the scars still remained. Green eyes sparkled with tears, full lips now chewed and bloody as the energy surge from before now began to leave his system, leaving the young man drained. His forehead felt clammy, a curl now stuck to it making him seem more childlike than he actually was. Yet, Gwil was still here, not saying much but letting Ben know he was safe.

“The floor feels solid,” Ben croaked out, eyes closed as he rolled his head from side to side, begging his sore neck muscles to calm their throbbing, and he heard Gwil sigh in relief. This was something his therapist had taught him; focus on things he could feel and it’d bring him back to reality safely.

“How about the lockers? You said you were in a chnaging room”. Gwil’s voice, now on speaker phone, sounded a touch too loud for Ben, but he knew that was just an aftermath of his attack, and knew it’d pass. 

“They’re cold. Made from metal”.

“How about your clothes? Are they warm?”

“Yeah,” Ben breathed out, shaking hand coming to hold the loose fabric of his hoodie. He was shivering despite the warmth of the fabric, “they’re nice. Somebody sent them to me”.

“That’s nice,” Gwil breathed, and it went quite for a moment. “Do you think you can get up?” 

“Um,” Ben beant his knees, one of his legs dragging heavier, but he managed to get both under him, and he managed to push himself up, taking a moment to steady himself, “yeah, I’m standing now”. Blinking his eyes open, Ben winced at the strong light above him, and shielded his eyes before slowly walking out of the changing rooms, feet heavy as he made his way into the dimmer corridors. “Just got out of the changing rooms”.

“You ok? You walking back to your room?” 

Ben felt a squeeze of panic and let out a long breath before nodding to himself, realising that Gwil couldn’t see him and whispered out a “yeah”. He must’ve been gone for ages, and he shouldn't do any exercising anyway, so going back was probably his best bet. “Will you stay on the phone though?” He heard Gwil confirm he would, and slowly the Brit walked back, listening to a story his friend was telling him, not needing to speak.

Yet he was at the door way quicker than he liked. He whispered to Gwil that he had to go, he had to walk in there right now otherwise he knew he’d bolt, and Gwil gave him a few final words of encouragement before Ben hung up.

A small pep talk to himself had Ben turning the key, and he pushed open the door. There was only one light one, the lamp by the sofa, and the TV was turned down low, so Ben didn’t notice Joe until he’d already taken a few steps into the room.

Walking out the bathroom, Joe finished pulling over his thread-bare sweater and saw Ben standing by the door. His shoulders were slouched, his fingers nervously playing at the bottom of the top, and green eyes were cast downward yet he didn’t seem to acknowledge Joe’s presence at all. Ah. 

“Benny?” Joe made sure to speak before getting too close, and the blond looked over, taking a moment before registering who was standing in front of him. He slowly smiled, and Joe avoided acknowledging the bitten lips and upset eyes, knowing now was not the time to bring either of them up. Instead, he mirrored the smile in front of him and gestured to the sofa, the overly plump pillows looking overly inviting. Ben nodded, shuffling his sock clad feet in the direction, Joe grabbing a few blankets from the cupboard, making his way over to where Ben was already settling in. 

Sitting close, Joe held up and arm and knew that Ben would settle against his side, and if like a jigsaw piece, the blond fitted against his side perfectly. Using his free arm, Joe pulled the blankets over them, watching out the corner of his eyes as Ben’s unfocused eyes finally gathered their clarity back, and Joe let out a content sigh, knowing that whatever had gone through his worried head, Ben was on the road to recovery.

[northoftheroad]

The Wayne family

Sometimes, when I read Batman fanfiction, I wonder whether the writer has been reading the same comic books as I have. Because they paint a picture of a big, happy Wayne family where the kids are very close and sometimes the whole bunch even live together. 

Now, I do know the difference between canon and fanfic. And I get that wishful thinking and selective reading plays a big part. But still, I'm curious where these conceptions come from.

Just to be clear. I do think of Bruces adopted/foster children as a family because they have a common father(figure). But they have not grown up together. It depends on what DC continuity you're playing with, of course, but most of them are in their teens when Bruce Wayne comes into their lives and they can’t have lived more than a few years with him. Several of them have not lived together. So even if I let my imagination run amok, I can't see them living at the Manor together as a tight-knit family, and I don't think all of them know each other very well.

Batman and Robin vol 2 # 10. By Peter Tomasi, art Patrick Gleason and Mick Gray.

Dick Grayson had moved out (or been kicked out, depending on what version you go with) when Jason Todd came along (and Bruce suffered from empty nest syndrome). Jason was dead when Tim Drake came into the picture, and Tim lived with his parents or boarding school in the beginning. Even if Dick kept in pretty close contact with Tim, he had a permanent home elsewhere.

Batman: Gotham Knights # 45. By Scott Beatty, art Roger Robinson and John Floyd. 

I admit I haven't read a lot with Cassandra Cain. As far as I understand, after Flashpoint she has never lived in the Manor. Before Flashpoint, she was adopted, but I don’t believe she lived long in the Manor, and the only other Wayne adoptee she can have shared the home with is Tim. 

Edit: At least, Bruce probably did have time to adopt Cass, even though he promised to do it in Batman: Redemption Road (2008), just before the story arc Batman RIP where he, presumedly, died. They certainly did not live together as a family for long. 

Batgirl: Redemption Road # 6. By Adam Beechen, art Jim Calafiore and Jack Purcell.

I’m sure there are cute panels of Tim and Cass out there, but I’m picking some from comics I know of.

Batgirl # 50. By Dylan Horrocks, art Rick Leonardi and Jesse Delperdang.

Batman: Family # 7. By John Francis Moore, art Steve Lieber and Stefano Gaudiano.

Tim was an older teenager when Damian al Ghul/Wayne dropped into the house and immediately tried to get rid of Tim the hard way, and I don’t think they spent a long time under the same roof until Bruce "died", and soon after Tim left (at least partially). 

Batman # 657. By Grant Morrison, art Andy Kubert and Jesse Delperdang.

Dick moved in with Damian and raised him (for about a year). When Bruce first came back he travelled with Batman Inc, and Dick and Damian continued to live together. There were times when you could find Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred in the Manor at the same time, but not living permanently together. 

Batman & Robin vol 1 # 20. By Peter J. Tomasi, art Patrick Gleason and Mick Gray.

Now, Flashpoint, New 52 and Rebirth makes it even more impossible to puzzle together a credible timeline for everything Bruce Wayne is supposed to have done and everyone's relationship with each other. We’ll end up with Jason being Robin for about a month... But, anyway...

At the start of New 52, Dick has gone back to Nightwing and moved into his own flat in Gotham. He’ll continue to move around in different cities so he’s clearly not living with any other Wayne. By then, Cassandra is retconned out of the family and I haven’t seen any sign that Jason lives at the Manor with Bruce and Damian (and I don’t know about Tim either).

Fast forward into Rebirth, and Duke Thomas stayed and trained with Bruce for a while. If any of the other kids lived there at the same time is anybody's guess, but you can see the whole Bat-family (including, for instance, Stephanie Brown and Luke Fox) share a happy meal in the Manor, so at least they socialize from time to time. I’ve read somewhere that Duke since has moved in with relatives.

In canon right now, as far as I can make out, the only one who (at least sometimes and varying between the books) lives with Bruce and Alfred in the Manor is Damian. 

Another fanon exaggeration on the opposite part of the scale, in my opinion, is the penchant for portraying Dick and Jason's relationship as extremely bad from the start.

There are three different versions of how they met before Flashpoint. The first time, when Jason was a circus-boy Dick clone, Dick originally wanted to take him in, but Bruce stepped in instead (DC needed a new Robin for Batman, after all). The second time, Bruce had fired Dick from Robin because he was shot by the Joker and then promptly picked up Jason, after Dick had left. The third time (Nightwing Year One), Bruce fired Dick and kicked him out (I tend to ignore this version mostly, to be honest, because Bruce is ridiculously much of an ass here) and then, as you know, took in Jason.

And it's not that Dick loves Jason straight away, or the fact Bruce took in a new Robin by the blink of an eye, in the two later versions. But he still gives Jason his old Robin suit and his phone number in version two and in version three, they part on decent terms, and Dick tells Bruce (by recording) that he could have done worse.

After that, they hardly meet before Jason is killed because Dick is working with the Titans and doesn't live in Gotham. Pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths Jason helped the New Teen Titans a few issues (Dick was busy getting in the hands of Brother Blood and being brainwashed, at the time) in New Teen Titans vol 2 # 20–31. And there is a snapshot of Dick and Jason hanging out as civilians in Nightwing vol 2 issue 63. That's about it. 

Nightwing vol 2 # 63. By Chuck Dixon, art Trevor McCarthy and Karl Kesel. 

Then, of course, Jason came back from the dead slightly unhinged (2005). I don't know the whole picture of meetings or confrontations between the Bat-kids between Jason's comeback and Flashpoint (2011). I do know he dressed up as Nightwing and killed people in Nightwing vol 2 # 118–122. When Jason was abducted, Dick struggled a bit with the question "Is it ethical for me to save someone who's a danger to society?" before he went to save Jason. In the end, Jason sends a telegram where he says "Thanks for coming for me, brother. I know we don't agree on much. I just wanted to believe we could be family again." Tim and Dick also had a confrontation with Jason in Teen Titans (2003) # 47, and Dick and Jason had a not very amicable meeting in the Outsiders v 3 # 44.

Nightwing vol 2 # 118 –122. By Bruce Jones, art Joe Dodd, Paco Diaz, BIT and Nathan Massengill. 

And then we have Battle for the Cowl, where Jason shot Damian, left Tim for dead and tried to kill Dick after he had refused to become Robin to Jason's Batman. (I guess there are Jason fans out there who think that Dick was not justified to put Jason in jail after that. Obviously, I'm not one of them, but if anyone dislikes these years in canon and decides to ignore it to the best if their ability, who am I to judge?)

So, the Wayne boys definitely had a partly antagonistic, partly close, partly distant relationship. After Flashpoint, I think it has in been portrayed as better. At least, I haven't seen them try to kill each other...  Tim calls Damian "gremlin", Jason is Damian's secret mentor (or so I've seen somewhere), they sometimes meet on the rooftops and work together. On the other hand, the previously close relationship between Dick and Tim seems pretty much forgotten. (Let's hope they start remembering that soon again.)

Detective Comics # 975. By James Tynion IV, art Raul Fernandez and Alvaro Martinez.

Somewhere in Batman and Robin Eternal, Jason says that Tim is the only of the other Robins that he likes. (I honestly don't know where that came from, I never noticed them seeing eye to eye before. Still, it's not like I've read every Bat comic ever printed. But then, I rather believe the same goes for a number of DC writers... Edit: I’ve been informed that it’s probably from a flashback in an issue of Red Hood and the Outlaws.) In RH and the outlaws annual 1 (I think that’s the only issue of that series I’ve read, to be honest), Jason narrates that there was a time when he would have killed Dick on sight. "Not my proudest moment. We've made up since then." They have a complicated relationship, but they are still somehow clearly brothers, and Jason thinks back to when he saw the Flying Graysons perform and how Dick was a hero to him then (another retcon after Flashpoint).  As far as I know, it's the only post-Flashpoint retelling of how Jason and Dick met, and the story is that Alfred puts Jason in Dick's room so he wouldn't have to clean a new one. Dick is not happy to find someone in his bed when he comes home to visit. They fight. Honestly, I can't imagine Alfred doing that, so that's one version of the canon I’m happy to overlook...

On the other hand, we have Jason and Dick hanging out on the rooftops in Blüdhaven in Nightwing vol 4 # 15, and Dick, Jason and Damian certainly bicker like siblings (together with Duke) in Batman vol 3 # 16 and # 33.

Nightwing vol 4 # 15. By Tim Seeley, art Minkyu Jung. 

Batman vol 3 # 16. By Tom King, art David Finch. 

On the whole, I think the only thing you can be sure of about the relationships between the Wayne family members these days is that it varies quite a bit between titles and writers and has had its ups and downs over the years. But that they have never lived together as one big, happy family.

Of course, all this is based on the comic books I’ve read, and there might very well be stories out there that paint a different picture. But on the whole, I’m pretty confident that this panel is about as close to a happy family gathering we’ve seen. And then it’s not only the Waynes but the Bat family.

Batman and the Signal. By Scott Snyder and Tony Patrick, art Cully Hamner.

[theflashfictioner]

Bad Blood pt. 2

Pt. 2 from the fic idea by @rachelscosplay

After Wells turned on the Particle Accelerator and popped a bottle of champagne, it seemed like the air was alive with the happy, excited energy emanating from all the workers at S.T.A.R. Labs, including you. But, you knew what else was coming up, and while everyone was sipping champagne, jovially talking, you walked up and out of the cortex, choosing to enjoy the night's events in the fresh, cooler air.

Raindrops were falling lightly on your skin and cooling you off. You looked at your watch and then look up, seeing the raindrops slow to a stop before starting to float up. You hurry back into the building, finding the most stable point as the particle accelerator explodes. There's pure chaos both inside the labs and out, as you rush in to the cortex, where Caitlin, Cisco, and Ronnie all seem to be missing as many of the lab technicians and other engineers are panicking and suddenly the waves of dark matter ripple through the city. You hurry around to help those who were hurt pretty badly by the explosion, and everything hits you at once.

The worst has happened. You knew what Dr. Wells was planning, knew things had to happen as they did, but you were promised there were only going to be injuries. You had believed there would be minor damage, but as you spend the next few hours surrounded by paramedics, police, and even coroners. You feel dread settle in your stomach like a rock as you count the 17 dead, identifying them before they're zipped up in a body bag and taken to be examined. You notice Dr. Wells taken in a neck brace on a gurneys and many others following, tears flowing down your cheeks as you feel betrayed and hurt over a broken promise. This is the one thing you begged not to happen, and you later go to find and confront him.

When you finally meet up with him, you see him in a wheel chair, staring in the room at a patient who you knew was Barry Allen, and would some day soon become the Flash. As you come up to Dr. Wells, he wheeled himself around and his expression softens only slightly as he looks at you. "Y/n, my darling, why have you been crying?"

"You broke your promise. This wasn't supposed to happen..." you say.

"Y/n, we are making history. You get to help the Flash become the Flash! There are variables that I can't always predict, either? Everything is okay! See? He's alive. I'm alive, and so are you."

You shook you head and refused to meet his eyes. "You told me there would be injuries and that no one would die. You told me this needed to happen. That we did this for a reason but that everyone would come out stronger and survive. It makes me wonder whether you knew about all this or not, and I'm wondering what my dad is actually planning that would cause him to lie to me," you say, meeting his gaze when you finish your last statement.

"Even you, no matter how skilled you are, cannot save everyone or predict what's gonna happen next. You have to wake up and realise that not every promise is in my power to control." He turned back to Barry before continuing. "This is our chance to become a part of something. Don't you want that?" He asks and looks up at you.

A few days later, you smoothed out your dress and met up at the hospital with Dr. Wells who was now confined to his wheelchair. He smiled at you when you approached and asked, "Ready to be a part of something greater?"

You nodded with a smile and he wheeled himself in to talk to Joe. You followed a bit behind while they talked and studied Barry, wondering how someone who looked so fragile, someone who looked like they were going to die any moment was expected to become the world's fastest man alive. When Dr wells returned by your side, he nods and you and Caitlin help get him to S.T.A.R. Labs.

9 months Later

You were walking into S.T.A.R Labs and talking with Cisco about ways you could possibly wake him up, and Cyberstalking him on Facebook was a good idea. As per your conversation, Cisco puts on Poker Face by Lady Gaga, and both you and Cisco sing along while Caitlin criticizes the music, right as Barry shot up and freaked out. You stayed back as Cisco and Caitlin fussed over him for a bit, calling Dr. Wells into the Cortex as you hear, "...lightning gave me abs?"

You chuckled and see Dr. Wells enter as Barry inquires about how long he's been in a coma. "Nine months," says Dr. Wells and smiles before continuing. "We have a lot to discuss." He and Barry leave the cortex as you hang back with Caitlin and Cisco, smiling and shaking your head at them and making conversation about the way Barry was physically and mentally. Having had quite a few scares there was actually a lot to talk about. When they came in, you heard him ask about Iris.

"She talks a lot," you and Caitlin say simultaneously.

"Also, she's hot," Cisco piped up and you rolled your eyes.

" I need to go," he says and starts to the exit.

"Caitlin's right," you pop in. "We need to take more tests since you're awake and we dont even know the extent of the changes you're going through."

He shakes his head and says, "Thank you for saving my life."

"Really?" Caitlin says as he quickly walks in and asks to keep the sweatshirt.

A little while later, you were all at the airstrip, setting up for the testing Barry's speed and poking fun at Cisco for the "safety gear" he'd gotten for Barry. As Barry stepped out you bit your lip and looked away to stop from laughing really hard as Cisco explained what was gonna happen.

"So then what do you two do?" He says gesturing to you and Cisco.

"I make the toys," Cisco says proudly, explaining the gadget he was handing Barry and then they turn to you.

"I have many talents," you say with a smirk, "but I mostly provide help to Dr. Wells as we fix up S.T.A.R. Labs and annoying Cisco and Caitlin. I'm an extra perspective here to make sure things end up going smoothly."

Barry nods before turning to Caitlin. "You don't smile much," he said and you cringed as you felt your soul leave your body. /why Barry?/ you thought as he was put in his place by Caitlin, who then walks off. After being warned by Dr. Wells, Barry sets off running and you all see flashes of lightening marveling at his speed!

Until he loses focus and crashes, breaking his wrist...

Back at the lab, Caitlin explained Barry his fractures, and the amazing way they healed while Cisco commented on his needing to stop.

"We find out he has speed healing and you're concerned with him learning to stop?" You tease Cisco.

Dr. Wells talked to him about the field and asked him what made him lose focus, as he explains his story, something seems wrong, but you nod sympathetically and then Dr Wells let's him know he's one of a kind as you process what was said.

A little later, Barry bursts in angrily demanding to know if he wasn't the only person affected, and you all shared a look before Wells told him he wasn't sure.

"You said this city was safe! That there was no residual danger, but that's not true. So, what really happened that night?"

"Well... the accelerator went active, we all felt like heroes, and then... it all went wrong," Wells started as you pulled up an image of the accelerator on the screens. "It all went wrong. The dimensional barrier ruptures, unleashing unknown energies into our world. Antimatter, dark energy, X elements...'

"Those are theoretical," Barry points out and you bite your tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"And how theoretical are you? We mapped the dispersion throughout and around Central City. Though we have no way of knowing exactly what or... who was exposed, we've been searching for other meta-humans like yourself," Caitlin says carefully.

"Meta-humans?"

"That's what we're calling them," you explained as Cisco commented with excitement about how cool this all was.

"This is not cool!" Barry snapped back. "A man died. Mardon must have gotten his powers the same way I did and he's still out there! We have to stop him before he hurts anyone else." He continued before starting to head out of the cortex.

"Barry, that's a job for the police," You piped in, trying not to make this worse.

"I work for the police,"he said, turning back around, and you felt like you'd made a mistake.

"As a forensic assistant," Dr. Wells replied and Barry turned on him.

"You're responsible for this. For him."

"What's important it YOU! Not me. I lost everything. I lost my company. I lost my reputation. I lost my freedom. And then you broke your arm and it healed in three hours. Inside your body could be a map to a whole new world of Genetic therapies, vaccines, medicines. Treasures buried deep within yourself and we cannot risk losing everything because you want to go out and play hero!"

Everyone was silent for a second, Dr. Wells and Barry holding a stare while you, Cisco, and Caitlyn tried not to feel too uncomfortable.

"You're not a hero. You're just a young man who was struck by lightning."

Barry looked disbelievingly at Dr. Wells before looking at the three of you to say something. When none of you did, he turned and walked out of the cortex. Everyone was quiet and then Cisco left to his workshop, Dr. Wells left to go somewhere else, Caitlin went into the lab, and you sat at the computer desk trying to get rid of the residual awkwardness left in the room.

A little while later

You, Caitlin, Cisco, and Barry were gathered around the table as Barry explained about how he was going over cases from the past 9 months and how the metas were busy. He let you know he doesn't blame any of you but he needed help catching them. Caitlin looked terrified, Cisco looked absolutely excited like he was part of his favourite show, and you schooled your expression into being neutral.

"If we're gonna do this, I have something that might help," Cisco said, and you found yourselves in the workshop as Cisco revealed a red suit and explained the all the features of the suit to Barry, and Caitlin talked about the satellites to help find Mardon, explaining the place that they picked up.

Barry then suited up and headed out as you, Caitlin, and Cisco headed into the cortex. When he arrived you and Cisco were trying to get his attention and he answered, explaining the issue of the tornado and his solution to it. You all took a second to think about it, Cisco explaining that he'd have to try and Caitlin worried he couldn't handle it.

"I have to try," Barry replied as you watched is vitals and speed.

"The suits holding up," said Cisco happily and Caitlin showed him his vitals, saying "But he's not."

"He can do this," Cisco said. "I know he can."

"You can do this, Barry," you said, at the same time Wells did. All of you looked at him in surprise as he coached Barry on how to do this after taking responsibility for all the damage.

And you all watched on screen as Barry was able to stop the tornado and Cailtin tried to get him to respond, calling his name out through the coms, until he answered and let you know he was okay.

Everyone celebrated and breathed a sigh of relief since the danger was now over.

[sege-h]

I HAVE TOO MUCH ENERGY so Im gonna get rid of it by rambling about Storm

I think I hinted in one of those OC ask games recently that he doesn’t age, but I don’t think it’s rly come up how and why recently

Imma put it under readmore because I feel VERY rambly and Idk how long it’ll get

Ok so I have a brief explanation beforehand about why this is even a thing. This was YEARS ago. Like ‘I was still chat-RPing Storm and Archie Sonic hadn’t had a single genesis wave’ ago. Ironically, the Genesis wave happening in the comics made it easier to explain just what Storm had done to his body.

No one from our RP group had come online yet, and my bro and I were bored. The RP had kinda come to a halt plot-wise, and we’d discussed doing a long time skip since we’d already set some stuff up about what would happen in the future. So we decided to go ahead and get started on it as people came online (it being a chat based RP, we didn’t need everyone to start RPing)

As our group came online, they’d either ignore the time skip or kept forgetting about it. Like we’d wrap up a future RP, and then come online to the RPing suddenly happening in the past again. And then it turned into an amalgamation of weirdness and ‘yes we’re gonna bring up events that happen in the future IC, even though we’re apparently writing in the past’

So bro and I got tired of this happening. And at first we were gonna void the future RP stuff. But then my brain farted out an in-universe explanation as to why in the hell these characters know future events that haven’t happened yet.

Storm’s age and memory had been reset, and it was a sensitive issue still, so people acted like nothing changed.

Mind you at this point Storm was the average joe of the group. We were all either in early high school, or late middle school, so everyone else’s characters were some form of immortal or slow aging, so it was like ‘oh yeah ofc he wouldnt notice the only people he hangs out with are older’

Jesus ok. I DID say I was rambly tonight. So. ONTO THE MAIN THING

Theres characters in this other than Storm, and they are;

Exe- Storm’s adoptive brother (who is a being that doesn’t age)

Narc- Exe’s corrupted/anti alternate, who is also responsible for Storm missing his arm

Alt Storm- A Storm alternate from a bad timeline

Ok so how the immortal Storm ball got rolling was- Narc trapped Exe within his own dimension, and came out into the one he and Storm live in.

Exe and Storm’s entire team/unit pretty much broke apart and went their own ways soon after, having given up on the notion that Exe might come back. Storm resents them for it to this day, especially since Exe left him second in command, so it had that extra layer of ‘they didn’t think I could lead them because they always underestimated me’

He pretty much gets unhealthily obsessed with fighting and capturing Narc, since he’s the key to bringing his brother back. Pretty sure the guy would’ve stopped sleeping and eating if it didn’t mean he needs to keep himself in top shape to fight Narc.

This went on a few years, which made Storm encounter another problem. That being that he’s an average joe, and he’s getting older and is bound to start getting weaker, while Narc just stays at full strength.

Not wanting to risk the whole fight lasting even longer, to the point that he does really start to weaken from age, Storm starts experimenting on himself and slowing down his aging. A lot of the experimentation involves chaos energy. He doesn’t manage to stop his aging, but he does slow it down.

For the sake of putting a conclusion to this rather than doing a double rant, I will say that Storm does manage to stop Narc, and Exe does come back.

Later down the line, Alt Storm crosses paths with his regular counterpart (this part isnt as fleshed out yet story-wise since for the longest time I had no idea what to do)

Alt Storm is a user of Chaos Energy, a strong one at that.

I’ve mentioned before how regular Storm’s family lineage leaves him without any chaos powers, but instead he has the ability to endure chaos based attacks better than regular people. (Ex; a chaos attack thatd hurt someone would leave him dazed but relatively ok, an attack that’d badly hurt someone would just hurt him a little, etc)

Storm has no idea that this is a thing, so neither does his alternate. So an attack that was meant to kill him, leaves him barely alive.

However the amount of chaos energy messed him up by having a reaction with the chaos energy present from his own experiments on himself. His body basically had it’s own mini-genesis wave, essentially (temporarily) erasing a decade worth of memories, reverting him back to when he was 20, and stopping his aging.

He’s since gotten most of his memories back, though there’s still holes in them that he’ll likely never mend. But he does remember his experiments, and the event that made him stop aging rather than just have his aging slowed down.

And that is my ramble on why Storm doesn’t age

[prismarine-parrots]

Tree of Life Pt. 4

Originally posted: 12 Mar. 2019

In the endgame now

...I just watched Endgame yesterday but thAT WASNT INTENTIONAL MY HEART—

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 5 (1) Part 5 (2)

Sorry for the repeat of last part at the beginning, like I said 3.5 wasn’t part of the original story so it was only mentioned before

The small group floated at dusk to the small cave base in a multitude of boats.

It was a bitter irony, really, that the only reason the party fit in this bay was because nearly half of them were dead and not coming back as far as they knew, or grieving so much they couldn't continue onwards.

It was with a solemn, firm thunk as Xisuma was the first to climb onto the dock from his boat that he was sharing with Impulse, who had been silently grim himself as he traveled alone of his trio.

"Is... this the place?" Jevin asked slowly. Joe Hills flicked the map to straighten it and looked at the terrain of the cliff side, then at his map.

"I believe so," Joe confirmed.

X closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I hope we find the answers we're looking for..." he murmured under his breath.

The rest of the hermits heard him, but said nothing. Their numbers were crushed and it was obvious that Xisuma had been trying to be the leader he sometimes just wasn't. He may be the server admin, but that was because he had the technical know-how of how to run the server. He wasn't the emotionally strong one (that was Doc) or the strategic one (Cubfan, who looked like a ghost himself after losing Scar.) But X had taken the responsibility upon himself because of the duty he felt to fix this mess, and the fact that his role as admin has to have SOMETHING to do with all of it.

"Let's go," Doc climbed out of his boat like a soldier and marched into the cave.

"Doc- Doc! Are you sure that's a good idea? We don't know what, what horrors await us in there?" Joe protested.

Iskall was right behind the creeper cyborg, being in the same boat (literally) as him. The Swede looked back over his shoulder, his single eye sweeping over the remaining hermits in a vengeful dark gaze.

"We've already seen some messed up stuff in the past week, Joe. You weren't there for Grian, but he was messed up before he died. False just collapsed and died right in front of us. Tango went feral and starting acting like a real demon! And then if anything, I know we all saw how broken Cub was..."

There were small glances of grief and worry as each death was recounted. Stress had squeezed Cleo's pale green hand when False's dramatic, early death was mentioned, and Impulse winced at the memory of seeing one of his friends have to be killed with a sword to keep him from hurting anyone else after he had already stabbed Python with his horns.

Python died soon after as well.

"If there's ANY chance of at least keeping the rest of us from perma-dying, and MAYBE revive everyone else, we have to take it!" Iskall claimed firmly.

X knew that Iskall and Doc were right. He knew they ALL had to be as strong as them if they were going to fix everything. Even though there was a crushing pain every time one of those messages appeared on their phones, they had to keep going or every one of them were going to die.

X joined the two leaders and waved on the rest of the remaining hermits.

"Let's go, guys. For everyone."

Then Doc walked forward, followed by Iskall, X, Impulse, Cleo, Stress, Jevin, Joe and Ren. They were that was all that was left of the outstanding hermits, except for Mumbo who stayed at the main Hermitcraft Isle to watch over the people who died there, and Cub who decided he couldn't go forward after Scar died and went back to meet Mumbo.

The cave they had entered was clearly manmade and had a attempted terraforming job on it, but it was sloppy and easily noticeable. There were far and few torches to light the tunnel on the inside, making their passage spooky and tense.

"This is kind of like inside the Team S.T.A.R. base," Ren noted quietly, "just no labyrinth."

X chuckled. "Very glad for that. I'd much rather have a straight path than trying to actually navigate those ramps."

"How do you think we felt?" Iskall demanded.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you guys were on G-Team, heh." Doc taunted subtly.

"Are you trying to say something, DocM?" Joe immediately accused.

Doc smirked and raised his hands in a surrender gesture while Impulse was grinning with humor.

"No no, of course not."

"Why would you even suggest such a thing?" Impulse added cheekily.

"Humph. Just remember who won the war, alright?" Jevin reminded. The S.T.A.R. veterans shared a look.

"Only if you remember who destroyed you in Hermitgang!" X shot back.

There was a gasp from the G-Team members.

"How dare you!"

"Ow, my dignity has been stuck once again!"

"Well played, well played..."

"And only if YOU remember who made a counter strike to that malicious attack! I do not stand for these crimes to go without justice! I do not understand how you all can let them get away with that!"

"...what, Joe?"

Joe was fuming at the mention of the rap while everyone else was either confused, or still confused but laughing anyway.

Suddenly the ground dropped from beneath the group as they walked, getting a collective yelp as they fell a few blocks downward.

"Hey! Who did that?" Stress bounced back to her feet and yelled.

"Shut up, the whole lot of you! Just- just be quiet, for once!"

The hermits looked to each other in confusion.

"Did that sound like...?" Cleo left her question hanging and looked to Xisuma.

The turtle man sighed. "Looks like my clone is back in action. What do you bet he has something to do with the trees?"

"Too much," Iskall agreed grimly as Ren starting digging a staircase up the other side of the pit.

"X, you get to deal with him," Doc growled, not meaning to sound aggressive, but everyone was on edge again after what happened with Evil Xisuma last season.

X silently climbed the staircase and poked his head over the top. The hallway extended just far enough that the pit was hidden in the dark spot between two light sources, but looking now they had actually reached the end of the tunnel and it opened up to some sort of base with chests on the far wall.

X looked down at the hermits looking up at him and held a finger to his helmet in a shush gesture before climbing over the edge and going ahead while the rest of the group climbed up.

"Come on, come on, let this work, what else could that baffoon do that I can't that might reverse this? Ugh, those hermits, I hate them, and I know they dislike me, but this is a cruel way to get rid of me..."

X leaned around the corner to indeed see his alter ago hovering over a brewing stand. Well, not really hovering, and his feet were on the ground and he was leaning heavily on his right arm. While EX's back was turned to the original, it wasn't hard to tell that something was not right. Looking around EX's base, X saw a large screen with some familiar looking GUIs on it and a small device on the desk next to it.

I was wondering where my old phone from last season went off to. Guess I know now.

"Come on- yes!" EX took whatever potion he was brewing and chugged it without a second thought. He grimaced and wiped his mouth in seeming disgust and waited a few seconds before groaning.

"Check custom healing potion off the list... I hate sweet things, UGH..."

“Except cookies,” Xisuma chuckled under his breath with humor. Evil X liked cookies probably a bit too much for his own good, and personally X had wondered if he had been the Jangler before it was discovered to be Scar.

EX gasped and tried to spin around, but lost his balance and ended up pinwheeling his arms, knocking over his brewing stand, and fell hard on the floor. He scooted backwards, still favoring his right arm, and looked up at X with an odd mix of fury and fear.

"You! Stay back, leave me alone! Come to watch my demise? You're crueler than I thought, Xisuma."

X stopped for a moment. Evil Xisuma, scared? If him? Something was very wrong then.

The green-clad man looked over his double. Everything about him seemed to be normal, except that his left sleeve was torn and there was a graze across it. It looked to not be a fresh wound, and X slowly realized why EX was so freaked out.

"You're affected by it too..."

"What? This isn't you hermits' doing?"

"Of course not! You may be a pest but we would never try to perma-kill anyone!"

"Perma-kill?"

X sighed and sat down cross-legged across from EX and took off his helmet.

Time to be the serious leader with this man.

"Yes. People are dead because of something happened to the life trees on the Hermitcraft server, and we don't know what do to about it. If you're affected by it too and have been doing research... I think we need your help."

Xisuma's phone buzzed twice in his suit pocket- a normal text message, thank goodness.

EX's stolen phone vibrated across the room as well and the message appeared on screen.

<Iskall85> are we really trusting this dude?

Both the Xisumas looked at the screen with a sinking feeling.

"What do you say?" Xisuma asked his clone.

EX stared deadpan at X through his red visor.

"Why are you asking this? I could easily kill you."

"Yeah I know. I don't like you either, not one bit. But half the server is dead and we're stumped for solutions before the entire whitelist is wiped from existence."

EX looked at X for a moment more before closing his eyes and taking off his own helmet, revealing the same face as the man before him.

"Alright. Just this once, I'll help you. Never again after this!"

<Iskall85> seriously?

"Yes Iskall!" Xisuma yelled. There was hushed laughter, and Iskall's obvious voice as he protested the teasing. EX scoffed and muttered something under his breath before heading back to his desk. The rest of the hermits slowly entered the room, varying between wary, distrustful, or curious.

Xisuma nodded to them and turned to the screen EX was at and started scanning the waterfall of information that flowed up as the alter ego brought up what files he did.

Points falling, coordinates of placed location, status effects, chunk coordinates, error messages, time of activation... these have nothing to do with one another?

"What is going on here...?"

——————————

Word count: 1950

Holy heck I didn't kill anyone this time?

TBH I don’t like this part, I changed my plans and didn’t kill EX here so the relevance of this is questionable. But there needed to be a calm chapter, so this works.

Life goals, literally

[punkscowardschampions]

Bea & Fraze

Bea: they're getting chinese for tea if you want in Fraze: Alright cheers Bea: your dad says where are you Bea: probably wants you to pick it up Fraze: Tell him he don't need to Fraze: & to stop being so fucking embarrassing like Bea: meant the food idiot 😂 Bea: like he cba to go out Bea: your mums sleeping Fraze: Sounds more legit Fraze: I'll get it then, won't I Bea: 👍 Bea: girls said make sure you get fortune cookies 🙄 Fraze: Fuck's sake Bea: mhmm Bea: who's out then Fraze: Everyone Fraze: Where are you? Bea: got that big project for history Fraze: Yeah me too Fraze: So? Bea: so Bea: I wanna get a good grade don't I 😜 Fraze: You will anyway Fraze: Could do it the night before & still would, like Bea: True Fraze: I'm just gonna tell Miss to stop flirting with me if she keeps asking about homework 😉 Fraze: Unless you wanna do mine too Bea: ha fuck off do I Bea: get you points with your new girlfriend at least, even if you fail Fraze: Didn't reckon you could handle two, stresshead that you are Fraze: Worth a shot though Fraze: The kid I pay only does Maths & English Bea: Reverse psychology is a bit first school Bea: if you put half this effort into your work, Frazier 😉 Fraze: Just 'cause my ma's asleep don't mean you gotta take over Fraze: & it worked on Tanisha so I can do worse than a low effort, high reward strategy, can't I Bea: I ain't either of the women in your life, if you ain't noticed Fraze: You don't do enough shouting for one or hair flipping for the other Bea: gives your friend with the Bieber hair a run for his money Fraze: 😂 Fraze: Come out Fraze: You can tell him Fraze: Tell her to go easy on the gloss an' all before we get stuck together Bea: I'm good Bea: let your lack of tact work in your favour for once Fraze: Bullshit would you rather do homework than have a drink with me Fraze: Come on Bea: don't fancy sharing with you Bea: gloss, who knows what else, like Fraze: Then don't Fraze: You can have your own Bea: Generous Bea: where'd you get it this time Fraze: Better for you if you don't know Bea: 🙄 Bea: Whatever Fraze: Help me get rid & it's done Fraze: No evidence Bea: shouldn't you be telling your friends to piss off now, get some alone time Bea: not invite more people Fraze: Not fruity enough for her to handle, is it Bea: ha Bea: how shaming Fraze: You coming or not Bea: You're meant to be coming back with food, remember Bea: no point Fraze: After then Bea: who else is there Bea: i don't want to watch you suck face tah Fraze: She's gone in Fraze: You know what her ma's like Bea: not really Bea: not that interested, like Bea: but fine Fraze: Long story short, she don't like me Fraze: One of them McKenna's ain't I Bea: 💔 Fraze: Already smacked her brother for saying it Bea: Only got yourself to blame then Fraze: Fuck off Fraze: I finished it, didn't start it Bea: Can't act surprised Bea: what did you think would happen Fraze: I controlled what would happen Fraze: End of Bea: One way to put it Fraze: What are you being such a bitch for? Bea: What you being such a pussy for? Fraze: I ain't Bea: Sound like one Fraze: Fuck you Fraze: I don't Bea: Yeah you do Bea: what you wanna get invited 'round for tea for so bad Fraze: 'Course not Fraze: Get what I want off her already Bea: Shut up bitching to me that her mammy don't like you then if you don't care Bea: 'cos I deffo don't Fraze: What you need an A so bad you can't talk to me now Fraze: That's proper desperate Bea: talk about something more interesting than this dry project and maybe I'd wanna Fraze: I invited you to something more interesting Bea: I said I'd come out Fraze: They said I'm banned from the Chinese but I'm still going in Fraze: Don't mean shit Bea: When did that happen Fraze: Last week Bea: You're ridiculous Fraze: They are Fraze: Barely kicked off Bea: Yeah okay Bea: such a conspiracy that Fraze: Nah, don't wind me up & I won't react, simple as Bea: I don't know the last time someone told you but world don't revolve around you Fraze: Who then? My life I'm living, babe Bea: The rest of us ain't living ours to keep you happy Fraze: More fool you Fraze: You'd have it easier that way Bea: 🙄 Fraze: Da's gonna have to come get this shit they won't give it me Fraze: Pass it on Bea: fuck sake Bea: alright Bea: [time] Bea: Joe's on his way Fraze: & I got one foot in the door near enough Fraze: You coming for a 🚬 or can you only accept one invite a night now, like Bea: If you're offering one of yours then obviously Bea: be down now Fraze: Don't keep me waiting, Princess Bea: Or what, dickhead Fraze: There'll be fuck all left for you Bea: 😂 Bea: Idiot Bea: [comes out and takes it] Fraze: [control your heart eyes boy for the love of god, keep it 😏] Bea: [when you're trying to pretend you ain't arsed but you're obvs lowkey 😒 'cos can't control that] Fraze: [pulls on her sleeve to get her attention cos throwback to when they were kids and therefore forever something he'd do even as an adult] Bea: [has to be like what 'cos cannot ignore a throwback] Fraze: [asking her what's wrong via a look] Bea: ['hungry' when we know she weren't having no chinese] Fraze: [shakes his head but not gonna push that too hard because we do know, gives her a lemon sherbet from his pocket cos on a throwback roll goodbye] Bea: [smiles a bit and takes it, 'where's the drink you promised, then?] Fraze: ['you wanna go get started now then, yeah?' A loooooooook stop flirting boy but don't] Bea: [returning looks forever, 'ain't your girlfriend' meaning not a weak-ass bitch but also we know] Fraze: [intense eye contact that goes on too long for the win. 'So come on' starts walking & doesn't wait for her to follow cos knows she will] Bea: [raises her eyebrows like 'really' but does 'cos why wouldn't she] Fraze: [takes her to wherever he's stashed it nearby] Bea: [holds out hand like gimme] Fraze: [hands it over with a little lol] Bea: [looks at him like you drunk already but smiles and takes massive swig like ick, thanks creepy old dudes 'cos casual pro already] Fraze: [smiles back because casually always impressed and not gonna pretend he ain't, but does his own to prove he can hang obvs] Bea: ['least she'll be cheap to get pissed'] Fraze: ['shut up' cos he ain't like that and don't want her to think he is for obvious creepy old dude related reasons] Bea: [shrugs like what it's true then smirks at him 'cute'] Fraze: [his turn to be 😒 'don't'] Bea: ['who knew you were so chivalrous? so adorable' loling] Fraze: ['you, unless you've repressed more shit than you let on' because that's a throwback to them being little in itself he'd be so protective of her bye] Bea: [is like oh but fronts it all smirky like 'you wish, boy'] Fraze: [his turn to shrug cos it's true & they both know it but also return the smirk cos always & steal her words from earlier. 'not really' which is a lie] Bea: [shakes her head, drinks some more] Fraze: [likewise] Bea: ['think your brother's got a little girlfriend too'] Fraze: [laughs and gives a look like which one] Bea: [rolls eyes 'keep up, Tommy's had one for ages, Joe'] Fraze: ['Had money on Rocky before him'] Bea: ['Rude, he's cute.' Pausing for that dramatic effect 'cos evil 'least Kayleigh Macguire from year above him thinks so' older womens always] Fraze: [If I was being rude I'd have said he looks like a fucking girl & called her a Lezza but I ain't.' Pauses himself to give her a pisstaking look. 'That's what this mood is then, you didn't get to ask him out yourself. Unlucky like.'] Bea: ['Jealous 'cos he's pretty than yours? Sad times, Sherlock.'] Fraze: ['Fuck off. You're jealous 'cause she's got tits and you ain't, don't take it out on me'] Bea: [Laughs 'yeah I'm so devvo I'm not fat'] Fraze: ['Nah, gutted that Joe ain't tripping over himself for you though.'] Bea: [Flicking her cigarette away and stamping it out as she turns to go 'You're such an idiot'] Fraze: ['If you want him you're gonna have to make a move, cunt's got none of his own.'] Bea: [Exasperated 'I clearly don't'] Fraze: ['Clear that you're full of compliments for him' Shoves the bottle at her cos so angry always 'Offer him a drink, be his best mate. On the house along with the tip.'] Bea: ['Excuse me, just because I don't need to slag him off don't mean I'm in love with him, Jesus, what's wrong with you?'] Fraze: [just gives her a look like who's side are you on because dramatic af forever we know] Bea: ['Ridiculous, I already said.' Drinking 'cos she's got it now, like] Fraze: [turns to go himself because king of throwing a strop] Bea: ['You done with this then?' shakes the bottle like hello? 'good then' and goes to walk inside with it like a bad bitch ain't scared] Fraze: [pulls her back by her sleeve but like harder than he meant to because emotions be high so then has to take the bottle back and neck loads of it cos cant look at her] Bea: [grabbing the bottle and smashing it, wasteful but necessary] Fraze: ['what the fuck'] Bea: ['Don't fucking grab me'] Fraze: [bringing the eye contact back because he has to, you did wrong there boy & we all know it you included. 'I'm sorry.'] Bea: [Shrugs like okay then but won't meet his eyes stubbornly] Fraze: [rubs his eyes & puts his head in hands because fuck he did not mean for this. 'Go home, Bea' is now the time to tell her what to do even if it is softly & with feeling, no boy but god bless] Bea: [when you're not dignifying that with a response] Fraze: ['fuck's sake' but mostly to & at himself lbr] Bea: [starts walking away but not in 'cos like I said a bitch ain't eating so] Fraze: [stubbornly doesn't follow her though he obviously wants to] Bea: [where are you going, who knows, but you committed now] Fraze: Where are you going? Bea: What's it matter? Fraze: I said go home not go fucking missing Bea: Dramatic Bea: not missing, am I Bea: just gonna go see where everyone is Fraze: They're having dinner like Fraze: Don't be stupid Bea: everyone in town Bea: alright Bea: I'll find someone, don't worry Fraze: Don't say that to me Fraze: I clearly am Bea: what, you wanna be your mum now Fraze: Fuck off Fraze: I said sorry Fraze: Come back Bea: I don't want to Fraze: I don't want you wandering the fucking streets Bea: oh my god Bea: you invited me out earlier so don't lie Fraze: With me Bea: I can look after myself Fraze: I know Fraze: Jesus Bea: Then don't worry Bea: go eat Fraze: Stop saying that Fraze: Christ's sake Fraze: I don't wanna go eat Bea: Do what you want then Bea: I am Fraze: Tell me where you are then Fraze: I will Bea: [probably a park or something] Fraze: [finds her because obviously] Bea: [love a swing moment] Fraze: [pushes her on the swing because what are you gonna say boy] Bea: [is all 'I'm not a child' but not really aggressive more like done but doesn't try to get off or anything] Fraze: ['Stop having a tantrum then' um excuse you boy, hypocrite much] Bea: [digs her heels in but literally lol 'cos fuck you will always do the opposite] Fraze: [goes & sits on the swing next to her] Bea: ['why are you so annoying sometimes?'] Fraze: [gives her a look like bitch me, why are you] Bea: ['see'] Fraze: ['All I see is you giving me grief, babe.'] Bea: [makes a pah noise, 'oh you're so grown now, get enough of that from her is it?'] Fraze: [lights another 🚬 & shrugs] Bea: [says something like 'actually such a child' under her breath] Fraze: ['if you've got something to say to me, be braver and just fucking say it'] Bea: [says it louder like happy now] Fraze: ['what's up with you today, fucking hell'] Bea: ['I dunno, why don't you ask me if I'm on next, seeing as that's as mature as you can manage'] Fraze: [makes a noise of frustration not in a sexy way lol he's so mad] Bea: ['what's the matter with you?'] Fraze: ['You used to be a laugh'] Bea: [just looking at him like what do you want me to say to that] Fraze: ['Do you not wanna be mates any more?'] Bea: ['Well you obviously don't so'] Fraze: ['Don't put words in my mouth'] Bea: ['Why would you wanna be friends with someone who ain't a laugh? You said it, don't try and backtrack now'] Fraze: ['Cut the bullshit is what I'm saying. Stop being such a bitch.'] Bea: ['Don't talk to me like that, I'm not doing anything! You came here'] Fraze: [gets up like he's gonna walk off 'And I dunno why I fucking bothered'] Bea: ['No one asked you to, did they'] Fraze: ['you don't have to ask me to make sure you're alright. Jesus. Why can't I give a shit about you anymore?'] Bea: ['Why are you so dramatic when I'm just tryna go out and have fun too, only you're allowed now?'] Fraze: ['Bullshit is this fun for you'] Bea: ['You didn't give me chance, that's why'] Fraze: [walks away like well here's your chance then] Bea: [waves dramatically like 'see you at home'] Fraze: [if you can walk angrily he's doing it & you know he's gonna hit something when he gets chance] Bea: [dread to think who you gon find you better get home miss thing also skip] Fraze: Get home now, I ain't doing this on my fucking own Bea: um Bea: ? Fraze: You ain't forgotten that we gotta watch this kid Fraze: You wish Bea: Ah Bea: shit Bea: really Fraze: Yeah really Bea: isn't Joe there too Bea: you can't Bea: take it in turns or something Fraze: Nah he ain't Fraze: It's meant to be me & you Fraze: He's got some music shit, I dunno or care Bea: alright Bea: hang on then Bea: 10 to finish up 'bout the same to get back Fraze: Where the fuck are you? Fraze: He's bawling already, like Bea: He's a baby, that's one of 4 options so try the other ones out or ignore him Bea: coming fast as I can Bea: if anyone had reminded me maybe I'd be there Fraze: Not your fucking keeper, made that clear Bea: then don't complain Bea: or need to know where I'm at Fraze: Don't start Bea: Whatever Bea: let's just get this done Fraze: I am Fraze: You're the one who ain't here Bea: Why do you always start conversations when it's too late Bea: you like being pissed off that much Bea: I can't leave any faster so stop having a go Fraze: Why do you act like such a superior, responsible bitch when you ain't Fraze: You owe me 20 minutes Bea: Whatever Bea: you can go take a dump or crywank when I get there then Bea: like it's hard Bea: he can't go anywhere Fraze: I didn't say it was hard Fraze: Don't mean I wanna be here, doing it Bea: I ain't the one who had him Bea: take it up with your mum if you fancy it Fraze: Yeah 'cause I really fancy a slap Fraze: Shut up Bea: Coulda fooled me, boy Fraze: You couldn't if you wanted to Fraze: Come back with a ladder, like Bea: 😑 Fraze: Did you eat? Fraze: Wherever the fuck you are Bea: Nah Bea: no time Fraze: I'll go for chips when you're back then Bea: Alright Bea: tah Fraze: Whatever Bea: Gracious Fraze: I'm hungry Fraze: One of us is growing still Bea: Better not Bea: you won't fit in normal people places soon Fraze: 😂 Bea: and your ma ain't gonna get you a new uniform Fraze: Have to stop going to school then Fraze: Shame Bea: 💔 Bea: Poor boy Fraze: Was gonna ask you to help me with writing up that chemistry experiment bullshit but fuck it now Bea: We may as well Bea: actually Bea: considering you'll definitely just have to go Bea: you're a boy, no one is distracted by your ankles Fraze: Alright Bea: Don't worry Bea: not asking for enthusiasm Fraze: You can ask Fraze: Don't mean I'm giving it to you Bea: Gutted Bea: 🙄 Fraze: I know Fraze: You and the teachers both Bea: Soooo cool Bea: work on your boyfriends maybe Fraze: Fuck off Bea: 😂 Fraze: Keep walking, Princess Bea: Who says I need to Bea: 👑 Fraze: Being carried home, yeah? Fraze: Who's the unlucky cunt doing the heavy liifting Bea: Come on Bea: trying to be funny but still got to be accurate Fraze: Who says? Fraze: Ain't started the Chemistry yet, like Bea: 'cos it ain't funny if it's blatantly untrue Bea: 🤷 Fraze: Who says I'm trying to be funny Bea: So you just wanna call me fat to be a dick Bea: Alright Bea: Have fun Fraze: Always putting words in my mouth Bea: heavy liifting Bea: there it is Fraze: I'm calling your boyfriend weak, not you fat Bea: 🙄 Fraze: Anyone who ain't a pussy could pick you up easy Bea: Why would he need to Bea: got a bike6 Fraze: 👑 Bea: you said it Fraze: I stand by it Bea: Idiot Fraze: You're the one caught in the rain, babe Bea: least he got a spare helmet Bea: could be worse Fraze: Depends who he is Bea: Doubt you know Fraze: Could be better then Bea: 'cos all your friends are peak? Fraze: 'Cause if you're trying to keep him anon he ain't shit Bea: I ain't Bea: you want a selfie or something Fraze: Not while he's driving Bea: Safety first Fraze: Don't give a fuck about anything else Fraze: Like I said, I ain't doing this on my own Fraze: So get here in one piece, like Bea: Chill out Bea: he ain't just passed Fraze: Don't mean shit Fraze: I'm a better driver & I ain't Bea: You're funny Bea: feel free to tell him when we get here Bea: wouldn't be weird at all Fraze: What do I wanna talk to that cunt for? Bea: idk Bea: you seem interested Fraze: He ain't coming in & I ain't waiting on the doorstep for you Bea: not in this rain Bea: with the kid Fraze: Yeah 'cause that's the reason Bea: mhmm Bea: deny it 😜 Fraze: I just fucking did Bea: 😂 Fraze: [goes offline because dealing with Baby Rocky and not well lbr] Bea: [let us get there in that time girl so you can come help] Fraze: [throws a towel and one of his sweatshirts at her when she comes in because really raining and he's a gentleman lol] Bea: [checking her face hoping there isn't mascara everywhere] Fraze: [starts putting his coat and shoes on cos he said he'd get her chips and he meant it even though we know he doesn't have to go right this second he just don't know how to be around her rn] Bea: [just like okay and looking at Rocky like what's up with him eh, 'have you fed him yet?'] Fraze: ['yeah' isn't looking at her or anything like its not this much of a task to get ready boy we see you] Bea: [looking at the clock working out how long they gotta keep him entertained before bath and bed 'cos not gonna be that long, 'cool, you got money from your 'rents for dinner or you wanna halvesies it?'] Fraze: ['I'm good' & then goes out without saying bye or anything how rude] Bea: don't even ask me what I want, like? Fraze: like I need to Bea: Hm okay but still Fraze: What? Bea: stop being funny with me yeah Fraze: We ain't mates anymore Bea: Oh Bea: thanks for admitting it then Fraze: You admitted you didn't wanna be first Fraze: I'm just keeping up Bea: Did not Bea: You Fraze: Nah Bea: I remember Bea: you were already on it you were probably drunk Fraze: Yeah well I remember inviting you out 'cause I wanted to hang out with you & you throwing it back in my face Bea: I told you why Bea: it wasn't about you Fraze: You didn't tell me shit Fraze: You never do any more Bea: You don't listen Bea: I don't like her alright Fraze: You think you're too fucking good, just like him Fraze: It ain't about her, she weren't there Bea: Too good for who? Fraze: To hang about with me Bea: Don't be stupid Bea: when have I ever said that Fraze: Like I said, you don't say shit Bea: You mean you want me to say I am so you've got an excuse Bea: stop being a wimp and just do it Fraze: I don't need excuses, I ain't your pussy of a boyfriend Bea: I don't have a boyfriend Fraze: Don't bullshit me Bea: I don't Bea: I'm not trying to be tied down or tie down Bea: Tah Fraze: Whatever you wanna call him then Fraze: Give a fuck Bea: A random Fraze: Don't tell me that Fraze: It don't make it better Bea: What Bea: I just got a lift because it was pissing it down Fraze: You know what Bea: No Bea: I don't Fraze: Yeah you do Fraze: Don't be stupid Bea: It isn't a big deal Bea: he's harmless Fraze: Jesus, Bea Bea: How can I make it any clearer it's nothing to be worried about Fraze: How can I make it any clearer that you wind me the fuck up Fraze: Forget about it Bea: well it's mutual Fraze: Yeah Bea: could've just said no Fraze: You could've said no to the lad on the bike Bea: why Bea: you said i had to be back Bea: it would've taken me ten times as long Fraze: [Comes back looking fresh to the death with that popped collar & wet look hi] Bea: [control yo 😍] Fraze: [swaps a baby for chips casually lol] Bea: [putting something baby hypnotizing on the tv and getting drinks] Fraze: [gives her look like you could literally put the godfather on what does he know but then eating cos growing boy fr] Bea: [shrugs like anything for an easy life boy] Fraze: [shrugs back] Bea: [awkward chip eating] Fraze: [at least he'd eat fast even if he's also on his phone cos popular] Bea: [Rocky grizzling 'cos getting sleepy so looking at him like ready 'cos she's not gonna be eating loads] Fraze: [okay but Fraze telling the bab a story that Joe told him when they were little during the bad times TM] Bea: [just being quiet 'cos nice moment] Fraze: [then Fraze takes him up to bed cos sleepy lil baby being uncharacteristically soft cos we know he loves them all so much really] Bea: [doing some clean up downstairs 'cos don't wanna intrude but wants to be helpful] Fraze: [comes back down and throws all his school shit on the now clean kitchen table cos chemistry calls] Bea: ['have you done any yet?] Fraze: [shakes his head cos obvious he don't know what to fucking do but gotta style it out like he don't care obvs] Bea: [sitting down and looking through it like okay let's do this] Fraze: [sneaking a look at her while she's looking at the work cos wants to] Bea: [explaining it like okay this won't take us long 'cos not a bad teacher] Fraze: [trying to listen but distracted shamelessly by the fact she's wearing his sweatshirt looking cute & they are sitting closer together than need to technically] Bea: [is like oh no I must have shit on my face like casually touching her face tryna check lowkey] Fraze: [has to look away cos trying not to smile at how fucking cute she is] Bea: [after a while doing that little exasperated laugh like 'what?'] Fraze: [a look before he can stop himself] Bea: [returning it] Fraze: [needs to look away but never will] Bea: ['I-' starts to say something but then doesn't, trying to get on with the work when so distracted] Fraze: [was casually leaning in but stops when she does] Bea: [is like i'm gonna go check on the baby like don't need to but gotta run] Fraze: [gets up to go before she can because likewise can't fucking sit here or will die] Bea: [when you have to raid the bar soz mcvickers] Fraze: [literally is up there like doing the cliche leaning against the closed bathroom door & hitting the mirror not hard enough to break it obvs but as like a why are you such a fucking idiot cos mood] Bea: he okay? Fraze: Yeah Fraze: [comes down & outside like he can just 🚬 in the pissing down rain like I know you ain't put your coat back on boy calm down] Bea: [comes out and gives him another LOOK] Fraze: [is trying to light the 🚬 but it won't obvs so he throws his lighter across the garden & swears about it because mature response and of course looks back at her even though he shouldn't] Bea: [when you just mean to pull him back inside but then you're pulling him into you and yeah] Fraze: [when you've wanted to kiss for the longest time and you finally do and its everything and you can't stop] Bea: [how overwhelming goodbye] Fraze: [literally though we might need to have mcvickers come home because no chill otherwise] Bea: [fr fr also you need to be inside in case Rocky wakes up so at least get yourself to the kitchen, when you're literally drenched #mood] Fraze: [they can kiss their way inside cos almost parallel to when they did it in the other convo to their garage room. When you shivering but it ain't cos you are cold also #mood] Bea: [taking the jumper off 'cos you know soaked to the bone but does that thing where you don't stop kissing somehow] Fraze: [lowkey sitting her on the edge of the table soz homework you gonna get wet because the height difference is real when they both standing up and can't get as close as they want but still not stopping the kissing at any point ever] Bea: [the levels of fuck you don't give even as babies we really gonna have to interrupt this 'cos no chill in telling him she wants him] Fraze: [like maybe Rocky is crying but ignoring cos priorities sorry baby boy but then they hear the car pull up and can't ignore that but also waiting until the last possible moment to stop because like you said no fucks given or chill] Bea: [when you gotta shoot upstairs 'cos you don't wanna be the one who has to explain why tf you soaked soz boy godspeed, deal with that baby gurl] Fraze: [when you're trying to clean up the blatant puddles on the floor but there's also the state of the table & no time so wtf can you do lowkey other than sweep that wet homework into your bag to worry about later and just face out the blatant state of the kitchen floor] Fraze: [at least he can blag he's soaked because he went to get chips because not a lie] Bea: [seriously sort yourself out girl 'cos no need to be that obvious] Bea: 🍀 Fraze: [Tess @ Fraze like why didn't you wear a coat you little idiot literally go upstairs & get dry so he does but you know he's just gonna go upstairs and hope they cross paths cos not scared of the danger] Fraze: Where are you? Bea: My room Fraze: [quickest put on of dry clothes in the world so he can come to her because only one with her own room we know] Bea: [just sat on her bed like hey] Fraze: [leaves the door open so he can hear if mcvickers are lurking & no shame in just picking up where they left off like boy you gotta chill] Bea: [fixing his hair which is too short to need fixing 'cos you just wanna] Fraze: [pulling her even closer to him like that's not a dangerous game, I can't even deal with either of you] Bea: [peppering in 'we should stop's with all the encouragement like okay bitch] Fraze: [he's as bad because you know he's just like on top of her on her bed right now kissing her like that's fine and they couldn't get caught any second] Bea: [again where are all the other kids, did they have a club, parents evening, who knows but don't interrupt] Fraze: [Let's say Joe comes back at least because can't be out all night like it'd make sense if Ro & Ali were like at at sleepover with ginger bitch cos creepy trio at that point & Tommy could likewise have some dance thing with Meena cos baby partners] Bea: [when you hear someone coming up the stairs and you have to jump apart like the guiltiest hoes in the world but it's just Joe going to his room so you're like do we or don't we] Fraze: [Blatantly are gonna continue but let's force a stop by having Tess calling one of them for some reason, probably Fraze for some shit he's done lol] Bea: [how to life now] Fraze: [Honestly, just imagine omg] Fraze: I don't have a girlfriend Bea: Okay Bea: what is she Fraze: If you hear her say she is, it's bullshit, like Fraze: She kissed me but I didn't Bea: Alright Bea: I believe you over her so Fraze: You have to Fraze: I don't want her Bea: fucking promise Fraze: I swear Fraze: I'll tell her Fraze: I'll tell everyone Fraze: & I'll show you Bea: I believe you Bea: you want me Bea: don't you Fraze: Yeah Fraze: Bunk off with me tomorrow Bea: Yeah Bea: alright Fraze: Alright Bea: nothing happened Bea: with that lad Fraze: I believe you Fraze: I still wanna fuck him up though Bea: He's irrelevant Bea: you know what I was doing anyway Fraze: Same I was Bea: Yeah? Fraze: I don't like her but I liked that you were jealous of her Bea: Dick Fraze: You'd love it if I beat up bike boy Fraze: Come on Bea: Bet you couldn't anyway Fraze: Bullshit Fraze: You know I can Bea: Maybe Fraze: Nah Bea: well you don't need to Bea: focus on me Fraze: I can do both Fraze: Not gonna take long to fight him Bea: Come on Fraze: What? Bea: already pissed off everyone came and stopped us Bea: don't wanna waste time Fraze: I'm not gonna go find him now, like Fraze: Or tomorrow Fraze: That's a full day of no other cunts about, just me & you Bea: feels like ages since we did that Fraze: 'Cause it has been Bea: Yeah Bea: we've gotta be careful Fraze: You can still get top marks if you don't have perfect attendance, babe Bea: 😏 not what I meant Fraze: I know Fraze: But we ain't that fucking stupid Bea: nah Bea: I'm glad we're talking again Bea: properly Fraze: Me too Fraze: I didn't mean all the cunty shit I said Fraze: You know that, yeah? Bea: I know Bea: it don't matter Bea: we were both as bad Fraze: Yeah but we gotta clear the air Fraze: I ain't wanted you this long to let it get fucked up Bea: It won't Bea: but alright Bea: what do you wanna say Bea: or know Bea: idk Fraze: Just that I'm sorry Fraze: Not just Bea: you're allowed to get with other girls Bea: if you want Bea: but I can't not be jealous Fraze: I don't Bea: You know there's nothing they can do that I can't do better yeah Fraze: Yeah I know you're better than them Fraze: Not only like that though Bea: Don't need to sweet-talk me Fraze: It's not Fraze: You don't need me to tell you that you're smart & still are a laugh & not full of shit Fraze: But you asked me what I wanted to say Bea: I wish tomorrow was now Fraze: If you can stay up I'll come back when everyone's asleep Fraze: It'll be late enough to count as tomorrow Bea: what happened to being careful then Fraze: Who don't you trust, me or you? Bea: 😏 Bea: shut up Bea: I'll be awake Fraze: & I'll be careful Bea: Fraze Fraze: Yeah? Bea: Have you got things for tomorrow Bea: condoms Fraze: 'Course Fraze: School's always chucking 'em at us Fraze: Cheers Da for not making us go Catholic Bea: 😂 Bea: Good Fraze: Anything else you want? Fraze: Got a whole day to kill, like Bea: Just you Fraze: Bea Bea: Yeah? Fraze: You have me now Bea: I've wanted to hear that for a long time Fraze: I've wanted it to be true for a long time Bea: I can't stop thinking about you Fraze: Don't Fraze: 'Cause I think about you all the time Bea: It's so Bea: distracting Fraze: I ain't saying sorry Bea: I don't want you to Bea: I want you to be missing me as much as I miss you right now though Fraze: Tell me how much Fraze: I'll give it my best shot Bea: I don't know what to do with myself now Bea: I can't sleep but I can't do anything productive Fraze: Keep thinking about me Fraze: That'll be well productive Bea: One word for it Bea: you want me to Fraze: I don't want you to stop thinking about me, like ever Bea: Give it my best shot Bea: 😜 Fraze: Good Bea: You know I think about you Fraze: Yeah but thinking I'm an idiot don't count Bea: That's only like Bea: half the time Fraze: 😂 Fraze: I reckon I can change those figures Fraze: Decent odds at it now Bea: Not gonna say no if you think you're up to the challenge Fraze: What challenge? Fraze: You want me, you told me Bea: Alright, rude Bea: can change my mind, you know Fraze: You won't Fraze: I want you & I'll show you, like I said Bea: have you done it before Fraze: With who? I already told you, you're better than them Bea: I just wanted to know Fraze: You heard when a girl kissed me but you reckon you'd not know that Bea: I don't know Bea: doesn't bode well for how sneaky you can be Bea: does it Fraze: Weren't trying to be then Bea: Yeah you were trying to make me jealous Bea: 😒 Fraze: Exactly Bea: Did you really have to do that Fraze: Would you have kissed me if she didn't? Bea: Maybe not today Fraze: Then I did have to Bea: I just remembered how it was when we were little Bea: if I got in shit then Fraze: I ain't forgotten Fraze: We'll be careful Bea: Where we gonna go Bea: you're mum will be in won't she Fraze: Yeah but Shane's ma ain't & I know where the spare key is Fraze: We can go to his Bea: Good idea Bea: glad he's got some use Fraze: 😂 Bea: not gonna have a thank you note or anything but Fraze: You don't like any of my mates, do you? Bea: Well Bea: they're alright Bea: some of 'em Fraze: Gimme a list of the alright ones & I'll keep you away from 'em before I get jealous Bea: 😂 Bea: Cute Fraze: Don't take the piss Bea: I ain't Bea: not my fault you're so fucking cute Fraze: 😏 Bea: Come be cute here soon okay Bea: you're taking the piss not me Fraze: It ain't my fault Joe won't go the fuck to sleep Fraze: He's taking the piss, not me Bea: He'll be up half the night probably Bea: 😒 Fraze: Fuck that Fraze: I'll batter him Bea: Least that ain't out of character Bea: no one's gonna question that like Fraze: Come downstairs Fraze: Nobody can question us getting a drink at the same time Bea: [does, probably looking cute in PJs] Fraze: [likewise cos you know he's topless but rocking them pj bottoms #mood] Bea: [we all know] Fraze: [puts her on the counter instead of the table this time because gotta just make mems everywhere] Bea: [shh kiddos] Fraze: [casual stealth kissing] Bea: [one of yous is gonna have to find chill] Fraze: [let's have Rocky cry for a throwback & to remind them that Mcvickers exist lol] Bea: [smiling bit sad like well that's the end of that then, 'you go up first'] Fraze: [gives her the best final kiss first because that bitch but then yeah you gotta go boy] Bea: [when the curse of wanting to say ily is back with a vengeance lmao] Bea: You're good at that Bea: don't waste it on anyone else yeah Fraze: I won't Fraze: You're not gonna either, are you? Bea: No Bea: why would I Fraze: I dunno Fraze: 'Cause you could Fraze: You're fucking hot, you know Bea: So are you Bea: I'm not interested in anyone else right now Fraze: Me either Bea: 👍 Fraze: 😂 Fraze: You speechless, yeah? Bea: You wish Fraze: Nah Fraze: Like we said, I'm glad we're talking again Bea: Good Bea: it's hard to ignore you Bea: not just 'cos we live in the same house Fraze: It was hard to ignore you when we didn't Fraze: You know, like Fraze: That shit from when we were kids Fraze: It weren't your fault Bea: Whatever Bea: don't matter Fraze: Yeah it does Fraze: I didn't even like girls & I liked you Bea: so special yeah Fraze: Maybe Bea: don't chat shit Fraze: Alright then yeah Fraze: I wanna be with you, don't I? Fraze: Not none of the rest Bea: we don't need to talk about it Bea: or put a label on it Bea: can't tell anyone anyway yeah Fraze: You mean you don't wanna Fraze: You already said you ain't looking to be tied down or tie down Bea: no Bea: I mean what I said Bea: you know that Fraze: Whatever Bea: Don't be moody Bea: I still want you too Fraze: I ain't Bea: Sure? Fraze: If you want me to be in a mood, keep going Bea: Come on Bea: be my friend 😉 Fraze: Be mine Bea: I am Bea: your best friend Fraze: Yeah Bea: You're mine too Fraze: Keep it like that Fraze: You don't need any new friends even if you reckon you need a lift Bea: He ain't my friend Fraze: Good Bea: Fraze Fraze: What? Bea: it's really hard to stop Fraze: What do you mean? Bea: I mean Bea: I just want more Fraze: Well, that ain't no problem Bea: It can be Fraze: Nah, not for us Bea: yeah Bea: okay then Bea: you do want to Bea: I didn't ask Bea: I just Fraze: 'Cause you don't need to ask Fraze: Why wouldn't I? Bea: idk Bea: you might not be ready to go all the way Fraze: Don't get dramatic Fraze: It's not a big deal, like Bea: Can be Bea: some people Bea: but alright then Fraze: I'm not a fucking girl Bea: didn't say you were Bea: not only girls care about this shit Fraze: Lads don't Bea: says who Fraze: Everyone Bea: I bet most of your mates are still virgins so Fraze: 'Cause they can't talk any girls into it Bea: you think that's what's happened here Fraze: I'm not talking about them, not us Bea: I'll see you later Fraze: Don't Bea: I just don't wanna chat about this Fraze: You started it Fraze: What you wanna talk me out of it for? Bea: I was making sure Bea: it's what you're meant to do Fraze: You know I am Bea: then there's nothing else that needs saying Fraze: I ain't scared of anything Fraze: There's that, if you've forgotten Bea: you don't have to prove shit to me Fraze: No I fucking don't Bea: Why are you angry at me Fraze: Why are you treating me like some kind of pussy all of a sudden? Bea: I ain't Bea: that's how you've decided to take it Bea: which is more ridiculous Fraze: How else am I meant to take it? Bea: that I give a shit about how you feel Bea: won't bother from now on though Fraze: Then listen to me Fraze: Jesus Bea: I have Bea: fucking hell Fraze: Do you not want to Fraze: 'Cause that's how it's starting to sound Bea: No Bea: I told you I do Fraze: Alright Fraze: Then stop trying to have a domestic with me Bea: I said shut up Bea: just come when he's asleep Fraze: I am Bea: 👍 Fraze: Don't fall asleep before he does Bea: 😑 I'm not gonna am I Bea: wake me up anyway Fraze: Knowing you, you'll start doing your homework or some shit Bea: meant to be doing yours Bea: actually Fraze: Fucked until it dries out though Bea: you're so devvo, I'm sure 😏 Fraze: 'Course Bea: Maybe I'll make you do it tomorrow Bea: 😂 Fraze: Maybe I'll make you forget you said that Fraze: Fucking hope so Bea: Ha Bea: me too Fraze: These days you're such a swot though Fraze: Only so much I can do Bea: Piss off Bea: just 'cos I'm smart Fraze: Exactly why you don't need to be such a fucking stresshead about it Bea: just 'cos I get my work done don't mean I stress Fraze: When you won't come out 'cause you've got work that's stressing Bea: I wouldn't come out 'cos she was there, stupid Fraze: That ain't the only time you've said no Bea: Well Bea: gotta do it some time Bea: I thought you just wanted to be with your mates too Fraze: You're my mate Fraze: Best, so you said Bea: I am Fraze: Then why wouldn't I wanna hang around with you? Fraze: Don't be stupid Bea: Alright Bea: maybe they don't Fraze: Give a shit Fraze: They can fuck off Bea: 😂 Fraze: 😂 Bea: we can do whatever we want tomorrow Fraze: Yeah Fraze: & any other day, like Fraze: You're the one who gives a shit about school Bea: well gotta go in sometimes Fraze: Nah, the teachers love it when I ain't there Bea: Your mum wouldn't though Fraze: She's got her hands full with the new one Fraze: Can do what I want Bea: test that theory Fraze: I'm about to Bea: Yeah? Bea: Better be coming here or rude Fraze: [Finally shows up fucks sake Joe also how low key triggering to have someone creep into your room in the middle of the night soz Bea] Bea: [but it's cool 'cos you been impatiently waiting so you very ready and here for it] Fraze: [Dread to think what time it is, Joe you cockblock] Bea: [whispering obvs 'you were ages'] Fraze: ['Give Joe a beating in the morning if you like'] Bea: ['Maybe I will...Or you could save him and make me feel better now'] Fraze: [kisses her like its been a thousand years since he last did instead of however long] Bea: [just pushing him down on the bed like that ain't a dangerous game] Fraze: [At least he's quiet unlike his future son so one less thing to worry about] Bea: ['I can't wait for tomorrow..it's been so long coming'] Fraze: [Nods cos ain't that the truth but despite what you said you are lowkey nervous cos the love is real & you want it to be good] Bea: [tilts his head for eye contact and gives him a softer-starting kiss] Fraze: [When you're ruined by the softness so you gotta go harder because who is he if not someone who hides behind being a cocky little shit] Bea: [goes with it] Fraze: [When you've never touched a girl in a sexy way before but enthusiasm and bravado are your friends] Bea: [do what feels good lads] Fraze: [Thank god he was friends with much older lads as a tiny boy, inappropriate as that was 'cause heard & saw some shit that'll help him now] Fraze: [All those times at the playground with the teens, oh god bless baby baze] Bea: [when you know a lot but trying to tone it down for all the reasons] Fraze: [Yeah making him feel awkward isn't a good idea even though it's okay you're a virgin boy you're young af, lowkey am gonna have to help him though cos he don't know as much as he thinks he knows lbr] Bea: [moving him where he needs to be and making the right noises of encouragement, quietly though please] Fraze: [Very tactful babe, well played, you've earned yourself a turned on gasp from him for your efforts] Bea: [looking at him like 'good, I know'] Fraze: [some good eye contact] Bea: ['Fuck'] Fraze: [is 😏] Bea: [tries to say 'shut up' but you know don't clearly] Fraze: [kisses her cos they obvs both need to be quiet even if they don't wanna] Bea: [when you gotta bite your lip really hard] Fraze: [when bae looks really hot doing that so you're just like damn] Bea: [up in his ear like 'tomorrow we can be as loud as we want'] Fraze: [his turn to say fuck] Bea: [puts her finger to his lips like shh] Fraze: [such a look because stop being so hot thank you but also don't] Bea: [bringing out some of your knowledge 'cos not tryna be a dead fish either tah] Fraze: [Least some good can come out of how sad that makes me to think about, excuse me Bea: [ily curse] Fraze: [literally same though, you know I ain't gonna be able to stop him for long] Bea: [when you have to stop 'cos hear someone on the landing like hold up] Fraze: [hold your breath and freeze lads] Bea: [try not to be too frustrated and fail] Fraze: [the way he'd be looking at her wouldn't help soz babe] Bea: [just moving slowly like this'll be fine] Fraze: [when you should give a shit but you clearly don't, oh you two never change] Fraze: [okay but giving her little kisses because they are soft and don't make a sound goodbye] Bea: [being like oh 'cos intimacy what] Fraze: [literally nearly said it shhh] Bea: ['you're so'] Fraze: [looks at her like finish that sentence thank you] Bea: [teases him longer than necessary like 😏] Fraze: [When you lowkey forget that you have to be quiet because you're going hard so that she'll tell you/give you another compliment/make a sound thats so hot you don't mind that she didn't finish her sentence] Bea: [When his back is gonna be scratched to fuck 'cos you gotta hold in how loud you need to be, 'good, you're so fucking good'] Fraze: [When you can't even be smug cos so into all of this rn that how to do life tbh] Bea: [when you start going some 'cos how much more can either of you take lbr] Fraze: [seriously though] Bea: [hope whoever has gone back to bed bye] Fraze: [I'm loling because this is day 1 like how long are you gonna keep this under wraps for lads] Bea: [when you keep kissing 'cos you don't want him to go but gotta] Fraze: [when you wanna stay but you don't know how to be like yeah let's just fall asleep together snuggling bye so you're just kissing her back and holding onto her nbd] Bea: [when you have to stop eventually or you're just gonna start again so you're just looking up at him] Fraze: [When this is the one time you have to look away first because you're gonna fucking say it if you don't so its like the slowest and most ridiculous song and dance of almost leaving ever like boy you ain't gonna put on shoes and a coat we can't string this out forever] Bea: [just there with nothing to do casually like get your PJs back on properly, fix your hair, 'night, Fraze'] Fraze: [off he goes without saying anything how rude but we know its cos he dare not] Bea: I know it was good Bea: don't try and pretend Fraze: I ain't pretending nothing Bea: you didn't say nothing Fraze: Being quiet weren't I Bea: I managed still Fraze: Yeah alright Bea: just don't be weird Fraze: I ain't being anything Bea: alright Fraze: Not gonna be like 'well cheers then' am I, that'd be weird Bea: obviously not 🙄 weirdo Bea: gave you an easy out why didn't you just say night back Fraze: 'Cause I don't wanna say goodnight Bea: okay then Fraze: I don't wanna just go to sleep like that didn't happen Bea: what do you wanna do Fraze: Come & have a 🚬 with me, yeah? Bea: Alright Bea: you got 1? Bea: I might have but only emergency 1 Fraze: Got loads for tomorrow Fraze: Today now, like Bea: Can use 'em to count Bea: See you out there Bea: I need to freshen up Fraze: Don't be ages Bea: not gonna put on a full face of makeup Bea: just sort this mess slightly tah Fraze: You don't look a mess Bea: Well, a bit Bea: but that's your fault Fraze: I'm in a worse state but you don't hear me saying anything Fraze: Come on Fraze: It looks like it's gonna piss down again Bea: Yeah, that was my point 😜 Bea: you better have put a top on Fraze: I've put my dressing gown on, so you can stop swooning over me, like Bea: 😂 oh shut up Fraze: Make me, babe Fraze: If you ever get enough of a move on Bea: You wish we could Bea: I'm coming, bloody hell Bea: so impatient Fraze: You've had all my patience before now Fraze: & it didn't get me what I wanted Bea: so that's that fucked forever is it Bea: good to know Fraze: I'm waiting on you now, ain't I? Bea: You're cute Fraze: You made it obvious you reckon so Bea: Know you ain't mad about it Fraze: Didn't say I was Bea: Be an idiot if you was Bea: [comes down] Fraze: [intense eye contact ftw & forever but this time over the 🚬 as he puts it in her mouth & lights it, so intimate excuse you boy] Bea: [dying so you just gotta smoke and nod your thanks like] Fraze: [When you shrug but the look of love you're giving her betrays you as not casual lol] Bea: [giving it back so we're all good, going to sit down on whatever patio furniture they're rocking but it's cold and wet so mistake] Fraze: [Lols cos she's so cute sorry bout it] Bea: [when you're pouty but not mad mad 'what happened to being quiet then?'] Fraze: [Picks her up and does the thing where she's also wrapped in the dressing gown so they both are because she's smol and shameless excuse to do a hug obvs and also not answer because did not mean to break the silence especially not first] Bea: [Snuggle pause] Fraze: [When you don't ever wanna put her down or let her go so you give her kisses so you don't have to] Bea: [just enjoy it you cute kids] Fraze: [just making out with the love of your life in the garden in the middle of the night nbd] Bea: [only stopping to give him the cigarette like don't forget but 😏 'cos you both know that ain't why you're out there] Fraze: [When you end up lowkey fucking the bae with your clothes on because that's why you ain't gone in yet shamelessly but because you ain't you can't be taking your clothes off here & now even though that's all you wanna do. At least PJs aren't a total cockblock unlike if you were both wearing jeans or some nonsense which would just be frustrating instead of good] Bea: [yay for getting to be a bit louder 'cos you should all be in bed neighbours] Fraze: [still not as loud as you want but you're welcome girl] Bea: ['How did you-' when you'd be used to the stamina of old creeps and lbr that's the only blessing there] Fraze: [Telling her how hot she is etc because that's true and a nicer answer than being like well I'm young af I only need a minute] Bea: [leaving it there like okay] Fraze: [Literally wanna say ILY what can I say instead send help] Bea: ['I'll miss you' talking about going to bed obvs] Fraze: ['You don't have to' when you feeling brave enough to hint that you wanna stay RIP] Bea: ['you know you'd have to get up in a few hours now, the baby wakes them up at the crack of dawn so' sad shrug] Fraze: [Gives her a look like yeah and what cos living that life rn where he believes there ain't nothing he can't do, bless you bab. 'If you want me to, I will' see what you did there boy acting like its not what you want haha] Bea: [thinking, 'not like either of us is getting much sleep now, still have to pretend to go to school so' more shrugging] Fraze: [shrugs back because oh so casual obvs lol] Bea: ['if you wanna, like'] Fraze: [when you smile before you can stop yourself/realise you have cos you just happy about it] Bea: [smiles back like sorted then] Fraze: [does the handshake from when they were little, remember when] Bea: [but finishes it with a smooch 'cos] Fraze: [Leads her back inside by the sleeve because girl you better have some kind of coat or jacket on my dad would be screaming] Bea: [cuteness ensues] Fraze: [Imagine how unreal this would all feel though like] Bea: [just touching him all the time like you're really there] Fraze: [couldn't get any closer to her if he tried though so its okay] Bea: ['do you feel any different or do you reckon that's just bollocks?'] Fraze: [When you wanna say you feel happier but you're such a stereotypical teenage lad how can you talk about your feelings like that so you just shrug] Bea: [looks at him like lol good chat babe and turns to get comfy] Fraze: [snuggles her because that's the real communication here] Bea: [let's just appreciate for a sec] Fraze: [it's soft time & I'm here for it thank you] Bea: [gonna be so knackered lmao] Fraze: [gonna have to drink so much shit instant coffee tomorrow, not a mood] Fraze: [At least they ain't going to school they'd actually be falling asleep] Bea: [you know she'd wake up before him and be ready even though could probably have another hour or two of sleep once he's back in his own room 'cos Rocky be up at about 5 and it's not like you need to start getting ready for School 'til like 7/8 tbh 'cos she's just that put together bitch, nudging him like hey sleepyhead] Fraze: [Let's not think about how cute he'd look half asleep goodbye] Bea: ['you gotta run'] Fraze: [Does because even sleepy he's not stupid and not trying to get caught but before he goes a little peck goodbye like the cliche when a dude is going to work and kisses his missus because seen that and copying it] Bea: You're a nerd Fraze: Bet you're doing homework as you try and take the piss out of me Bea: You're still a loser 😘 Fraze: And you're still impressed by me, babe Bea: Impressed isn't the word I'd go for Fraze: Should be Bea: Oh really Fraze: Yeah Bea: Hmm Bea: well keep trying Fraze: Fuck off, I don't need to try Bea: 🤷 Bea: Go back to sleep then, can get at least an hour or 2 Fraze: Alright Fraze: Don't miss me too much, like Bea: Do my best Fraze: Good Bea: 😏 Bea: you did look cute though Fraze: Don't be watching me sleep Bea: Shut up Bea: like you'd know Bea: constant audience Bea: you know you like me more than both of 'em Fraze: I like you more than anyone Fraze: It don't mean you can take liberties Bea: Don't worry, I'm not planning on it Bea: might get distracted by Joe like Fraze: Shut up Bea: You Fraze: You ain't allowed to like him Bea: Why not Fraze: Loads of reasons Fraze: So don't Bea: I don't Bea: but I could if I wanted to Fraze: [Doesn't answer because fuming about this] Bea: You fallen asleep? Fraze: Yeah Bea: 👍 Bea: Alright Fraze: See you at breakfast, like Bea: yep Fraze: Alright Fraze: Good morning then Bea: Don't say it Fraze: What? Bea: you didn't wanna say it last night Bea: so don't say it now Fraze: Whatever Bea: Fine Bea: Bye Fraze: Just forget I said it Bea: why Fraze: 'Cause I didn't mean to Bea: Yeah you did you're in a mood Fraze: Don't Bea: You don't Fraze: Fuck's sake Bea: I told you I don't fancy Joe, don't be ridiculous Fraze: & I said shut up Bea: I've not said anything wrong Bea: but fine Fraze: I ain't talking about him no more Bea: not like he's my favourite topic of conversation Fraze: Stop fucking bringing him up then Bea: this is fucking ridiculous Fraze: You started it Bea: How am I meant to ignore him he lives here too Fraze: Do what you want Bea: not if you're gonna be mad with me about it Fraze: I'm not mad at you Bea: who then Fraze: Me Fraze: I just can't think about you with anyone else Bea: I told you I don't want anyone else Bea: it was just a stupid joke Fraze: I fucking know that Bea: I'm sorry Bea: alright Fraze: Don't Bea: What, I can't say sorry Bea: it was dumb Fraze: Not for this shit Fraze: I got wound up, that's on me Bea: we alright? Fraze: Are you gonna forgive me for being such a cunt? Bea: You ain't Bea: and you aren't Bea: so yeah Fraze: You know it's 'cause I like you, yeah? Bea: I like you too Fraze: I'll make it up to you Fraze: I swear Bea: I like you Bea: cunt or nah Bea: remember Fraze: I ain't forgotten Fraze: Point is, I wanna keep it like that Fraze: & have a good time Fraze: Not a day you're dreading, like Bea: I'm not Bea: swear, not gonna make it weird Bea: just have fun Fraze: Fuck it then Fraze: I'm getting coffee Fraze: You want a cup? Bea: Yeah please Fraze: Meet me in the kitchen for a trial run of acting like you hate me or whatever Fraze: Loads of past experience to draw from Bea: 😂 Bea: it was never hate, drama queen Bea: but yeah, I've got this Fraze: I know that but this family don't Bea: I'm not gonna come down and kiss you, it's fine Fraze: Shame Fraze: But alright Bea: Take it up with the fam, not me Fraze: Wouldn't be the first time I kicked off before breakfast Bea: If you can think of a decent excuse you're less tired than me Fraze: I don't need one Fraze: I'm a McKenna, end of Bea: 🙄😏 Bea: can't say it doesn't work Fraze: I've never had a bad idea, babe Fraze: Come on Bea: ha Bea: you've had plenty but I always sve your ass from trouble Fraze: See? Have to keep hold of you Fraze: Need you, don't I? Bea: Yeah, you do Fraze: You're smart, think of a reason we've gotta go to school early, yeah? Bea: Alright Bea: coffee me first Bea: [comes down] Fraze: [gives her the mug with a kiss because nobody about yet even though you know they could appear at any point, like] Bea: [obvs kisses back and is happy but then does a fake 'fuck you' look 'cos practising] Fraze: [gives her a look back obvs but then kisses her again cos no fucks given about the danger] Bea: [when you sit ON the table to be like remember when with that eyebrow raise and sipping your coffee] Fraze: [gives her a very different look but because I'm evil before he can do anything Tess Vickers TM comes in with baby Rocky but like is lowkey so sleep deprived she don't even notice them straight away and gotta do that mum double take like oh] Bea: [hop off that table bitch and start explaining your excuses for why you gotta go school early, she knows Tess ain't gonna be #invested so as long as it's boring and semi-believable, probably like helping with some breakfast club, her for looking good on a uni app, him 'cos gotta for detention vibe maybe] Fraze: [when you already annoyed cos your ma cockblocked your table moment and then she shoves your baby brother at you for a sec cos you say that's the reason you're awake #believable gang & then she makes a joke about coffee stunting your growth cos toll boy & such a mum haha but then you cheer up cos the bae comes through with a good lie, not that you're gonna show it] Bea: [when you're just smirky 'cos heheh got away with it] Fraze: Either that coffee kicked in proper quick or you didn't really need it Bea: You can tell me how smart I am on here Bea: no one will know Fraze: [Baby in one hand, phone in the other, what a mood & a look lol] Fraze: Maybe I wanna say it to your face Bea: Won't have to wait too long Bea: thanks to my genius 😜 Fraze: It's still gonna feel like ages Bea: just be thankful the little ones aren't here Bea: be even worse Fraze: Believe me, I fucking am Bea: Shame that one's not old enough to ship off either but you know Bea: [comes over and squishes baby Rocky's cheeks] Fraze: It's alright, he won't say shit Fraze: [Kisses her again like see and also because any second alone is a chance he's gonna take shamelessly] Bea: [just looking at him like you're crazy boy] Fraze: Get back on the table, I'll be like less than a minute Fraze: [Takes Rocky away like you don't need to see this bab] Bea: Aw, don't do yourself down like that, babe Fraze: Shut up, not what I meant Fraze: [Comes back & gives her a look like obviously what I meant thank you] Bea: [when you can't argue with that look] Fraze: [the sneaky tabletop make out we all deserve] Bea: ['when's the earliest we can leave, realistically?'] Fraze: ['Fuck it, I'll get ready & let's just go' cos he shamelessly has just been fucking around this whole time like sort your shit boy] Bea: [nods like alright, 'sadly I can't come with so, be quick, yeah?'] Fraze: [I love that she felt the need to say that cos we all know he's a boy that takes ages normally lol so gonna take that on board slightly but still gonna take a while cos that bitch. At least they won't be leaving suspiciously early by the time he's done fucking around] Bea: how do you even take so long Bea: you've not got hair to style, you don't wear make up Fraze: Do you want me to look good for you or nah? Bea: You always look good Fraze: You're only telling me that 'cause you want me to hurry the fuck up Bea: So negative Bea: Usually happy to take a compliment Fraze: Give me one when you ain't waiting on me & I'll have it Bea: Babe Fraze: Yeah? Bea: it's so impressive how you can turn anything and everything into a fight Bea: how's that for a real compliment Fraze: Cheers Fraze: Do my best Bea: Well you're the best at it Bea: no doubt about that Fraze: Like I said, everything's a fight Fraze: Gotta be ready for it Bea: Then I shouldn't even bother being nice to you Fraze: I told you, do what you want Bea: Well I might wanna be nice to you Bea: but if you don't believe that then Fraze: If you wanna then do it, that's literally what I'm saying Bea: Lord Bea: I'll be outside Fraze: Babe Fraze: Don't be mad about it Bea: I ain't Bea: I just Bea: nah, idk Fraze: Tell me Bea: You don't have to be like that with me Bea: I thought you knew that Fraze: I do Fraze: But there's not a switch for it, like Bea: Yeah Bea: that makes sense Fraze: I'm sorry, you know Bea: Forget I said it, but actually Bea: not passive aggressive bullshit Bea: nothing's that easy, I know that Fraze: I don't wanna Fraze: I want it to be that easy Bea: I know Bea: just know that Bea: I'm never going to fight you for real Bea: because I could never hate you Fraze: You should know that you do make me feel different Fraze: No bullshit Bea: we've got each other's backs Bea: yeah Bea: always have, it's not got to be weird or new just 'cos Fraze: Exactly Fraze: Nothing's changed Fraze: I meant what I said, I liked you before I even gave a shit about other girls Fraze: & I ain't gonna be a better person 'cause I can't that's bullshit, but I don't have to be the same cunt I am with everybody else Fraze: 'Cause you're better than them, I already said it Bea: I know Bea: we aren't just doing this because Bea: all the reasons people can think of that we shouldn't Bea: I wanted to be with you then, I still do but more Bea: and I don't want you to be a better person Bea: We're fucked up together yeah Fraze: I ain't never shared my lunch with any other fucker Fraze: I made my mind up then so people can think what they want Fraze: Nobody's taking you away from me Fraze: It's always been me & you Bea: Yeah Bea: I feel it too Fraze: [Finally appears and makes a come on gesture] Bea: [when your 😍 are huge like 'scuse me fam nothing to see here] Fraze: [when you basically running so you can be out of sight of everyone not soz bye fam] Bea: [when you basically have to jump him to initiate a kiss as soon as you can] Fraze: [when you literally don't give a fuck that any of the neighbours might see you because nobody else exists rn again not soz] Bea: [when you keep saying 'me and you' between kisses 'cos basically ily but not] Fraze: [adding the always in because real & such a declaration but one he can get away with] Bea: [hope it ain't raining today 'cos you got time to kill 'fore you can shamelessly use your friend's house, not that they care lbr] Fraze: [Let's imagine one of the neighbour's fences has a loose panel that they can fit through that he obvs knows about cos sneaky bitch who's been in there before so they can have a bit of privacy until they have somewhere to go] Bea: [just joking like 'this is where you bring all your bitches, yeah?'] Fraze: [is 😏] Bea: [cuffs his head but she'd really have to reach lmao] Fraze: [lols and picks her up like if you wanna have another go] Bea: [aggressive kissing] Fraze: [obvs into it] Bea: [when you debating on giving him hickeys but probs not so stick to biting his lips like] Fraze: [like you can as long as he don't give you any as well lol 'cause not subtle] Bea: [when you're insatiable] Fraze: [Can't even shade because I can't even imagine wanting something for as long as they have and yet still being so young and dramatic] Bea: [we know how this day gonna go can probably leave 'em to it Fraze: [True cos we all know what's up and this is gonna be long anyway]

[ghostbustermelanieking]

praescitum chapter three

chapter one, chapter two

casefile, season 10, season 11: post-10x03: mulder and scully meet the weremonster. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: As Mulder and Scully adjust to their reassignment to the X-Files and working together in the wake of their separation, they find themselves investigating a small town and a ghost that apparently warns people of bad things to come.

---

three.

november, 2015

In the weeks following the departure of those X-Files agents, Joe's faith is tested several times.

His insistent claim—to Kenny, to those FBI agents, to Robbie and Bonnie and all the townspeople who'd heard about his son's claims (sometimes Joe really, really hates living in a small town; news travels so fucking easy)—that the ghost isn't real is validated when he and Robbie find Bear while trick-or-treating on Halloween night. Robbie is more than overjoyed, and Joe is relieved as well. Based off of some cuts, and the leaves and briars stuck in his fur, it looks like Bear just ran off into the woods for a few weeks, which is what Joe tells Robbie. He still believes, personally, that Ryan Caruthers (that little shit) is the one who let Bear out, but Bonnie refuses to let him confront the punk. (“I will not have you tormenting that child and ruining my friendship with Annie just to prove a point,” she says sternly one night. Bonnie is firm on the subject of Ryan, having always liked him, and Ryan is about the only thing Joe and Bonnie actually fight about. Another reason to resent that kid.) But still, when the dog shows up, Joe truly believes it's all over: his son's insistence that he's seeing the Willoughby Specter, and the town's hysteria over it, and hopefully his association with Ryan Caruthers.

But this firm disbelief is shaken when more people begin to report sightings.

Joe is dismissive at first. This happened in 2002, he tells himself and Kenny: some people claimed they saw the ghost, and suddenly everyone wanted to become a part of it—and the next thing he knew, three people were dead. But he refuses to indulge it at first. It's mostly teenagers or college students, anyways, insisting that they saw the ghost when they were probably either drunk or high. A couple claim to have a video that spooks Kenny and screams hoax to Joe. Mark Johnson even shows up, more sober than Joe has seen him in years, and says he definitely saw the ghost this time, for real, he's sure of it.

Joe gets tired of it after the sixth claim. He asks the seventh person who comes in, “Why the hell is everyone reporting to me, anyway? This is hardly a crime, and it isn't like there's anything I can do about it.”

The girl, who can't be more than fifteen or sixteen, shrugs in a nonplussed kind of way. “I came because I heard you called in FBI agents last time. I figured that you'd do that again.”

Joe has no intention of calling those agents back again, of course; it was a hassle enough, and plenty embarrassing when they found nothing. But the sightings keep getting called in, and all of a sudden, there's bad things happening to accompany them, popping up all over town. Mark Johnson loses his job. An man who calls a sighting in calls again the next day, hysterical because his parakeet has died. There's an accident at the high school that manages to get rid of everyone's grades and test scores for the entire year. A man is abruptly evicted, and insists that he saw the ghost the night before and had thought nothing of it. The reports keep coming in, in the same frantic flurrying matter of 2002, and Joe begins to get worried all over again. The last thing he wants is for someone to end up dead again, because of this hysteria, or phenomena, or however you want to describe it.

He calls Kenny over to the house one night, wanting to talk the whole thing over, see if Kenny thinks they need to call the FBI agents back in. He's not sure what the hell they can actually do—the man as much as admitted that they didn't think there was anything here, and even if they changed their minds, what could they actually do to stop it?—but he's wondering if getting them involved will help everyone to calm down.

Kenny agrees to come over immediately. He's always been enthusiastic about this sort of thing, found it exciting; Joe knew he'd be willing to help. He says he'll be over right away.

Joe waits for him by the door; he doesn't intend for it to be a long wait, but there's a strangely empty period where he doesn't get any texts from Kenny or see any headlights in the driveway. It should take Kenny about five minutes to get over to Joe's house, but a half hour passes and he still hasn't arrived. Bonnie is giving him strange looks from the couch where she's watching a movie with Robbie, and Joe is trying Kenny's phone to see if he changed his mind and getting voicemail every time.

And then Joe gets a call about a nasty wreck, a car flipped upside down a block away. Kenny's car.

Joe rushes to the hospital immediately to wait for his friend to get out of surgery. After several more hours waiting anxiously in the waiting room, the nurses reassure him that Kenny is going to be fine.

He is relieved, immensely so, calling Bonnie thankfully to give her and Robbie the news, but a very small part of him can't help but wonder: is this related to all the bad things that have happened in the town lately? Kenny was the one who believed in the ghost in the first place, Kenny seems like a likely candidate to get involved in this stuff. Maybe Joe could've stopped him from getting hurt if he'd just listened, if he'd done something about the damn sightings sooner.

It takes another day for Kenny to regain consciousness, and when he does, he doesn't actually bring up the ghost, to Joe's surprise. Joe has to bring it up himself. When he finally mentions it, Kenny's face twists up, just a little bit, and he sighs wearily. “Was wondering when someone would bring that up,” he says, rubbing at his eyes with his palm.

“So you saw it?” Joe asks, knotting his fingers together on top of his knees. “The Specter?”

Kenny bites his lower lip, nods. “Just before I crashed,” he says, his voice unsteady. “I looked over at the passenger seat, and there he was. Scared me half to death. He kinda pointed at me, and then I think I blacked out or  something. The next thing I knew, I was in my smashed car and I could hear sirens. Then I blacked out again.”

“Holy shit,” says Joe, who knows that Kenny wouldn't be making this stuff up. Part of him wants to ask if Kenny had done any drinking that night, but he knows Kenny wouldn't drive if he'd had enough to drink to see things that weren't there. And the rest of him can only steadfastly believe Kenny, because Kenny's his best friend, and he doesn't make things up. “Did it look the way Rob described it?” he asks, because those are the best comparison sources he has, his son and his best friend.

“Exactly like the stories, man,” says Kenny seriously. “Like how everyone's been saying. I think… I'm starting to think that… that this might be like what happened in 2002.” His face is halfway guilty as he looks away from Joe.

Joe sighs, rubbing his mouth. Considers the fact that someone has almost died. Whether it's a ghost or not, Kenny could've died, was seriously injured in relation to the Specter story. It hasn't escalated to the levels it did in 2002, this mania or haunting, but it easily could. If this is the same thing. Someone else could get hurt, or die…

“Ken, do you think… I should call those FBI agents back in?” he asks gingerly. “To calm people down? Or… to prevent this from escalating worse?”

“I'm not exactly sure what they could do, but it's worth a shot,” Kenny says quietly. “We need to try and make this stop. So it doesn't end like it did last time.”

---

Three things happen as a result of the were-lizard case Mulder and Scully take in Oregon a few days after they leave Willoughby.

The first is that Mulder regains whatever confidence he lost in Willoughby. It happens surprisingly, but it ends in a satisfying encounter where Mulder actually shakes hands with a friendly monster. Scully doesn't believe him, of course (or at least she pretends she doesn't), but he tells her that she has solved a case and caught a serial killer and should be proud of herself just for that. (“I didn't say I wasn't proud of myself, Mulder,” she says. “I said that were-lizards aren't real.” “My point is that we both accomplished things on this case,” Mulder retorts, sitting on the edge of her bed. Scully pats his knee as if sympathetic, but she's smiling, and that feels like something.)

The second is that Scully steals a dog. It's the dog who she bonded with at the animal shelter, she tells him, the one who reminded her of Queequeg. A little yippy brown-and-white puppy. The animal shelter was in such disarray after she caught the serial killer that no one noticed her taking him. Scully is holding the puppy in her lap as Mulder recounts all of this, scratching the top of his head, and Mulder is reminded of Guy Mann's story. “You know what's funny?” he says. “The were-lizard had a dog named Daggoo. Daggoo is a character from Moby Dick, right?”

Scully nods. “A harpooner. That's a strange coincidence.” She looks down at the dog with the affection she used to bestow on Queequeg, that little shit. “Maybe I should call this little guy Daggoo,” she says, petting his back, and Mulder smiles. Calls her a ruthless dog thief, and she sticks out her tongue in retribution, bumping her shoulder against his.

The third is that they start having dinner together. Not every night, not anything that they openly discuss, but it happens, likely as a result of the night they spend in Oregon after the case ends, sitting on Scully's bed in the new hotel (sans creepy animal heads and creepier owner), eating pizza and playing with Daggoo. (Scully is wearing his shirt, an ugly striped one that he hadn't even noticed was gone, for the second night in a row. Mulder dutifully pretends not to notice, but seeing her in it makes him feel warm from head to toe. He can't believe that she took it with her.) From then on, they eat together three or four nights a week. Mulder tries to pick nice places when it's his turn to pick. They aren't dating, not officially (they always go to restaurants because of the unspoken taboo on visiting each other's houses, broken only once by Scully during the Tad O'Malley incident), but it's something, and he wants to take Scully to the nice places he never took her all these years ago.

They are at one of these dinners when he gets the phone call from Sheriff O'Connell. He doesn't recognize the number and almost declines the call, but Scully notes, “Mulder, that's the Willoughby area code.”

He raises his eyebrows at her, impressed. “You have area codes memorized? That's impressive, Scully.”

“I saw O’Connell's number when he called you about the key to the Caruthers's apartment a couple weeks ago,” she says, raising her eyebrows matter-of-factly. “Go ahead and take the call, Mulder, it might be important.”

It's nearly shocking to hear Scully refer to a case that she repeatedly called a waste of time as potentially important, but he goes with it. He nods apologetically, unusually formal (as if he hasn't known her for nearly twenty-three years), and answers the call just as it starts to click over to voicemail. “Mulder,” he says, out of an age-old habit.

“Agent Mulder?” says a voice on the other end that he recognizes. “This is Sheriff O'Connell from Willoughby, Virginia.”

Across the table, Scully shoots him a questioning look, and he nods in confirmation. “Yes, Sheriff, I remember,” he says into the phone. “How can I help you?”

“Well…” The sheriff sounds uncomfortable, and Mulder can practically see him squirming with discomfort on the other end. “I’m sure you and your partner will be glad to know that we found Robbie's dog. He's okay, looks like he just ran off.”

“Oh, that is good news,” Mulder offers politely.

“Yeah, but…” There's an awkward pause in which Mulder can picture the squirming again. “Look, I know I said that this is a bunch of horseshit,” Joe says finally on the other end. “And I know you and your partner… kinda agreed… but weird stuff has been happening ever since you left town. People have been reporting sightings, and a bunch of bad stuff has been happening… an incident with the high school… my friend, Kenny—you remember Kenny?—was just in a bad car accident. He's all right, but he says…  he says he saw the ghost just before he crashed.”

His eyebrows raise at that, remembering Deputy Jacobs's seeming fascination with the ghost. He doesn't know if he believes the story of the Specter, doesn't know if he can believe claims of a sighting from Deputy Jacobs anymore than from those kids, but he'll admit, he's intrigued. “I'm sorry to hear about the accident,” he says.

“Thanks.” There's another few beats of silence before O'Connell adds, “I don't know if there's anything you can do about all this. And I don't know if it's even a ghost doing any of this. But people are really riled up, and they've been asking me to call you in. Would you and your partner mind…”

“Coming down to take a look?” Mulder asks. He shoots Scully a questioning look, expecting her to resist, but she shrugs, resigned. She did say on their last case that she forgot how fun these cases could be; maybe the Willoughby Specter factors into that. “Sure, we could do that,” he says. “How soon would you need us there?”

---

It's oddly cold the morning they leave for Willoughby again. Mulder drives this time, picking Scully up at her house, and she turns the heat all the way up as soon as she climbs in the car. “There was a malfunction with the computer, or whatever it is that controls the heating in my apartment,” she says, clenching her teeth so they don't shatter, holding her hands in front of the vent.

“I guess technology isn't everything,” Mulder says, teasing and Scully makes a face at him. On an impulse, he grabs one of her admittedly chilly hands and presses his mouth against her fingers briefly. Reaches for the gear shift as soon as he lets go. Neither of them say anything about it, not a word, but Scully tucks the hand into her lap as they pull away from the curb. They drive to Willoughby with the heat turned all the way up.

Sheriff O'Connell meets them at the police station, mug of steaming coffee in hand. He looks like he hasn't slept in a day or two, stubble dotting across his jaw and circles under his eyes. “Agents, good to see you again,” he says, rubbing at his face and extending a hand to shake theirs. “I have absolutely no idea of how to handle any of this. Do you have any experience with cases like this?”

“Something like that,” Scully says in a nearly ironic voice.

“I’m assuming you want all this activity in your town to stop?” Mulder asks, and O’Connell nods earnestly. “I won't lie and say that I know exactly how to do that, but I think there's a way to figure it all out. A method of sorts. I'd say the next step is to get as much information on this spirit as possible and try to prove that it is, actually, a spirit that's involved. Maybe try to understand the spirit's warnings in the first place in order to stop whatever follows the warning.”

“But the spirit isn't causing these events,” O'Connell says. “Even if it is real, it's not an… evil spirit.” He looks slightly disgusted at himself for actually uttering these words. “My objective in bringing the two of you in is to calm down the public, try and stop the mania before it goes too far and someone else ends up hurt or dead.”  

Scully is nodding. “I think that's wise, Sheriff,” she says. “And I think that Mulder's right, that we need to gather as much information as we can to understand the full picture. Why only one person has been experiencing this… mania… before now, and why others have been experiencing it recently. And how we can stop others from experiencing it in the future.”

“You're talking about Ryan Caruthers,” says the sheriff, “right? His involvement in this?”

Scully nods. “We'd like to talk to him, if you think you could arrange that.”

O’Connell shrugs, nods. “He never found out that I suspected him of letting Bear out. And there's some advantages to my wife being friends with his aunt.” He pulls out his phone and starts to type. “I'll see if she can arrange a meeting.”

---

O’Connell's wife does arrange a meeting with the kid, at their house later in the day. The three of them spend the morning picking through reports of other sightings—the ones from the past few weeks, and earlier ones from 2002 and further back. There doesn't seem to be any particular pattern, besides this: out of the ones on record at the police station, the only sightings that were not singular or very, very sparsely occurred in 2002 or 2015. The sightings accompanied by other many sightings.  

Later, Scully and Mulder follow the sheriff back to his house in their car. Scully drives while Mulder reviews his notes in the passenger seat. “I just don't understand it,” he says finally. “Why have there only been two occurrences of repeated sightings? And why 2002 and right now? Why are those years significant over other years? What does a flurry of sightings mean?”

“We don't know that there have only been two… occurrences of this widespread mania,” says Scully. “There have only been two occurrences on record at the police station, but the lore is as old as the town itself. Who knows how many occurrences there have been?”

“Good point.” Mulder rests his chin in his hands contemplatively. “But I'm still not sure what Sheriff O’Connell wants from us, or how we're supposed to calm the public down. We could prove that the ghost is real, but what good would that do? Unless people want to try and understand it so they can stop whatever bad thing is coming.”

“It's a possibility,” Scully says, following the sheriff up a gravel driveway. She throws the car into Park behind his. “We've had a lot of nonsensical cases, Mulder. Why should this one be any different?”

“Because it somehow makes less sense than all the others,” Mulder says dryly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Or at least the cases that I remember.”

Scully makes a face at him across the console, as if to ask, Really? They climb out of the car and follow Sheriff O'Connell up the driveway, silently debating the coherency of their case history the entire way there.

Robbie O’Connell is waiting just inside, and he runs to his father first and hugs him tightly before coming to Mulder and Scully where they cluster near the doorway. “Hi!” he says, taking Scully's hand and tugging at it. “I want you to meet Ryan, he's super cool.”

Scully laughs, a little anxiously, and follows Robbie's direction. There is a woman and a teenager sitting on the couch, the woman eyeing them suspiciously, the boy ignoring them with a bored look on his face. “Ryan, Ryan, these are the FBI agents I was telling you about!” Robbie says excitedly, letting go of Scully's hand to run to Ryan's side. “They're super cool, like Men in Black.”

Mulder chuckles, says, “Actually, we sort of have to fight the men in black,” as he comes to stand by Scully's side. Robbie giggles with delight, and the kid who must be Ryan offers him an indulgent smile and a subtle fist bump, but continues ignoring everyone else.

The woman stands up and offers her hand. “Annie Caruthers,” she says, totally serious and straight-laced. “If you don't mind, could I ask what this is all about? I don't want to subject my nephew to unnecessary interrogations.”

“Ma'am, we just…” Mulder start to say as he shakes her hand, but Scully stops him with a raised hand of her own. “Ms. Caruthers, I completely understand,” she says, and she does. She'd only lived nine months with her son, but she'd seen what he could do and it terrified her, the thought of people wanting him for these unexplainable abilities. She thinks that seeing a ghost and making things levitate are probably pretty different, but she understands Annie's instinct to protect Ryan. She wouldn't want strangers interrogating her son, either, if he was still a part of her life. “Ryan isn't in any trouble, and he doesn't have to answer any questions he doesn't want to. We just want to ask him about some stuff.”

“About his experience with the Specter,” Mulder adds from beside her. “What he knows about it, stuff like that.”

The kid, Ryan, barks out a sharp, mocking laugh. “The FBI is investigating the Willoughby Specter? Seriously?”

“It's like I told you, Ryan, they're cool,” Robbie insists. Sheriff O'Connell appears almost immediately, scooping Robbie up and carrying him out, avoiding the gaze of Ryan or Annie Caruthers.

“We're an unusual unit,” Mulder says politely. “We're just trying to gather information, get the facts straight. But you don't have to talk to us if you don't want to.”

Annie looks hesitantly between them and Ryan. Ryan hunches up against the couch cushions, arms crossed, pulling the brim of his Orioles baseball cap down over his eyes. “Don't ask me about my parents,” he mutters. “I don't want to talk about them.” And Scully is involuntarily reminded of William, even though the circumstances are very, very different. She swallows dryly. Her throat hurts.

“That seems fair,” Mulder says. Annie nods a little, as if giving permission, and sits on the couch beside Ryan. Mulder and Scully each sit in a chair facing the couch, Scully pressing her hands into her knees in an attempt to focus.

Ryan shrugs, a little aggressively. “Okay, so, like… what do you wanna know?”

“Tell us about seeing the ghost,” says Mulder. “How long has it been happening?”

Ryan shrugs again. “I dunno. Since I was a little kid. It scared me, though, I used to have nightmares.” Annie nods like she is confirming this.

Scully suddenly remembers a detail from Robbie's story; she blurts, “You never felt… safe? Around the ghost?”

Ryan looks disgusted underneath the baseball cap. “No, I never felt safe. It was a fucking ghost.”

“Ryan!” his aunt scolds, but Mulder meets her eyes, silently thanking her for asking about that.

“We've heard reports of this ghost being… good,” Scully continues. “Likened to an angel, even.”

Ryan laughs. “Did Robbie tell you that? Look, I like the kid, and I'm glad he wasn't too scared, but, no. The Specter was never… angelic for me. Absolutely not.”

“How often did you see it?” Mulder asks.

The kid shrugs aggressively. “Every fall or winter. I dunno why. Maybe it's significant for the ghost or whatever.”

“Was there any routine to the sightings? Like a specific thing that would happen to bring it all on?”

“No, he'd just… appear. Follow me around. Freak me out. Like a Sixth Sense type thing.”

“He never… made any contact with you? Warned you about some ominous future?” asks Mulder. “Did you ever have anything unfortunate happen in conjunction with the sightings?”

“Nope.” Ryan crosses his arms again.

“Have you seen it recently?” Scully asks, and Ryan hesitates, pausing in the wake of her words, looking down at his shoes sheepishly before finally confirming—supposedly—that he hasn't.

“Do you have any idea why this is happening?” Mulder asks awkwardly, assumedly thrown by Ryan's irritable responses. “Why this specter is… warning people more often now? Or why other people are seeing him for the first time since…”

Ryan shakes his head bitterly. “Okay, first of all, we don't know other people haven't seen him since my parents got murdered. We don't know! I might just be the only one stupid enough to announce it to the world. And second of all, I don't know why this ghost does anything that it does. It's a ghost. Do you hear yourself? You sound ridiculous.”

“Ryan,” his aunt scolds again, sterner this time, but Ryan isn't finished. He says, “Nobody actually understands the stupid ghost, you know. I don't know why all this bad stuff is happening. Maybe this town has, I dunno, pissed off some higher power, and now they're paying penance for it.”

“Ryan, stop,” Annie says, holding her hand up. “I think this conversation is getting a little ridiculous, and I'd like to request we stop.”

“That's fine,” Mulder says quickly, although Scully is sure that he'd rather keep talking.

“We just want to understand this,” Scully adds, trying to sympathize. “It seems like people are upset, and we don't want anyone to get hurt.”

“That's Joe O'Connell talking,” Ryan says harshly. “He thinks I'm crazy. He thinks the ghost is just an excuse for other people to act crazy, and he brought you guys in to calm them down. I'm guessing you don't believe in the ghost either, do you?”

“Ryan, stop it! We're leaving, all right?” Annie stands at the same time Scully does, and reaches out politely to shake her hand again. “This is kind of a sensitive subject,” she says quietly. “I honestly don't know what is going on with this town—although I know it tends to go off the rails a little when a good ghost story comes into play—but whatever it is, I honestly doubt my nephew can help you with whatever it is you're gonna do to fix it.”

Ryan's already halfway out the door. Annie calls a strained goodbye to Mrs. O’Connell, wherever she is in the house, and follows him.

“Well,” Mulder says as soon as they're alone. “That was… interesting.”

“It's understandable, Mulder,” says Scully. “I'd be protective if I had a child who was… unique.” And I did, she adds silently—and unnecessarily, she deduces, from the look on Mulder's face. She rushes to add, “I'm still not sure what we can actually do here, Mulder, besides try to calm people down. And I'm not even sure how to do that.”

“Maybe we're here to try and explain why this is happening,” says Mulder. “Maybe even to stop it. Certainly to try to understand it.”

“But who knows if there even is a way to understand it,” says the sheriff as he re-enters, his son on his heels. “I take it the discussion with Ryan didn't go well?”

“That's an accurate description,” Mulder says with a light chuckle.

O’Connell sighs wearily. “I figured that kid wouldn't be any help.”

Robbie pouts, tugging at his dad's shirt. “But Daddy, Ryan's nice.”

“Ryan is a troublemaker, Rob.” O’Connell ruffles his kid's hair again, looking at Mulder and Scully questioningly. “Agents? What should our next move be?”

Scully shrugs. Mulder says, “I think possibly interviewing people who have seen it. Recent ones, and then possibly the ones prior to 2002… Like I said to Agent Scully,  I think our first step should be to try and understand this.”

The sheriff nods. “I might be able to set that up tomorrow.”

Mulder nods, too, reaches out and shakes his hand. “We'll be in touch.”

Scully takes a turn shaking his hand, waves goodbye to Robbie, and then they are leaving, walking out into the cold again. The temperature has dropped at least ten degrees since the afternoon, and dark gray clouds cover the sky in forewarning of an incoming storm. Thunder rumbles somewhere above them, and Scully shivers. Mulder draws closer almost unconsciously, his shoulder brushing hers through their coats.

It feels hard not to think of William in the wake of their encounter with Ryan Caruthers. William would be the same age as Ryan, and Scully silently wonders if he would be resentful in the same way, angry and sullen and haunted. She hears Ryan say again, Don't ask me about my parents, I don't wanna talk about them, and bites back a shudder. She is tempted to ask Mulder if he is thinking the same things as they climb into the car, but she can't get the words out, they're trapped in her throat. Mulder looks over at her from the driver's seat and smiles warmly, the same way he's been smiling at her since they got reassigned to the Files. She smiles back because she can't help it. There is so much they need to talk about, so much that needs to be resolved, but when he smiles like that, it makes her think they might be okay. It makes her want to move home.

It starts to rain before they get back to the hotel, lightning slicing across the sky, rain pounding the windshield. Like some odd warning, like a bad omen.

---

She's standing in her living room—not the one at the house she's living at now, but her living room, the one at her home—and William is there, and he is glaring at her. Why did you do this to me? he spits, his eyes fierce and furious.

I didn't do anything, baby, she tells him, pleading. Her eyes are wet. I just wanted you to be okay. I wanted to save you.

You threw me away because I wasn't perfect, William snaps. You gave me up. You're the reason I'm a fucking freak!

William, please, she says, nearly sobbing. Please, honey, I'm so sorry. I never wanted this for you. I love you so much, William.

You can't love me, he says plaintively, furiously, and he hates her, she can see it in her eyes. You don’t love me. You gave me up, you threw me away. You're the reason I'll never know my family.

She chokes out a pleading sob, stumbles away from his accusing eyes. She whirls around in a panic, runs for the door in a feeble attempt to escape, but someone appears in the door, a hulking, faceless shape with a black cloak fluttering in the air, and she tries to turn around and it raises white-gloved hands to her shoulders, clamps down painfully and pushes her roughly back into the room…

Scully wakes with a jolt, stifling her panicked yelp with a hand over her mouth. Shivering, her teeth chattering, her eyes wet, she rises up and surveys her surroundings until she remembers where she is. Mulder's hotel room. They'd ordered in takeout under the guise of working, but they are both much older than they used to be, much more tired. Scully thinks they fell asleep at some point after Mulder suggested they watch TV, after she got off the phone with her mom. She’s lying sprawled on the mattress, on top of the comforter, her hair mussed from the pillows. Mulder is curled up beside her, huddled against her as if to preserve warmth, his hand resting over her ankle. He is still asleep. The heater isn't on, and Scully's breath puffs out visibly before her, goosebumps rising on her bare skin.

As tempted as she is to just stay, crawl under the covers and cuddle up to Mulder for warmth while the terror of the nightmare leaves her mind, she knows she can't. She extracts her ankle gently out from under Mulder’s hand, wipes her eyes quickly, climbs off the bed and pushes the files aside before meticulously pulling the comforter out from underneath Mulder. He moves a little in his sleep, muttering something indecipherable, but he doesn't wake up. She covers him with the blanket, brushes some hair off of his face and quietly regrets her lack of courage. And then she flips on the heat, gathers her shoes and bag, her key card, and quietly slips out of the room.

The hall is pitch black, and Scully blinks in surprise; she could've sworn there were lights out here. It's just as cold out in the hall, and Scully buries the numb fingers of her free hand in her pockets as she heads down the hall to her room. It's just a few feet away from Mulder’s room, but she suddenly feels sluggish, unable to move more than a few inches at a time. Almost as if she is still dreaming. She blinks rapidly, shakes her head hard in an attempt to wake up.

There is a loud bang behind her, sudden and cacophonous, and Scully whirls, her hand flying to her waist where her holster should be and her eyes darting to the staircase. There is nothing there.

Heart pounding absurdly, Scully mentally scolds herself as she turns back to her hotel room. But the hall isn't empty anymore; at the end of the hall, there is a figure standing in dark clothes. His head is risen to face Scully, although she can't make out any features.

She offers a chilly smile out of politeness and fumbles for her key, inserting it into the lock. No click.

Her heart is still pounding too fast, and this is just ridiculous. Scully pulls the key out and reinserts it, jiggling the door handle in a frantic sort of matter. Nothing. She looks back down the hall, and the stranger has drawn closer. She still can't quite make out his face, but she can see that he is smiling. This strange man is grinning at her, and it doesn't feel polite. It feels almost menacing.

Her teeth are chattering again. How does a hotel get this cold? Scully turns back to the door and tries the key again. Nothing.

There are sounds like footsteps. She tries the key again and again. Nothing, nothing, nothing, until suddenly… There is a click, and Scully gasps in stupid relief, pushing the door open and stumbling inside. The door locks behind her.

The relief fills her entire body with a stunning warmth, and she turns up the heat immediately before changing into pajamas, the buttondown ones with one of Mulder's old shirts slipped overtop for extra warmth. She can't remember the last time she was this cold. She finger-combs her hair before crawling into bed, flipping out the light and burrowing under the thin quilt. She wishes she'd stayed in Mulder’s room. She wants to purge her mind of that nightmare, of William and his accusations and the horrible, consuming guilt that has stayed with her since the day she let that social worker walk away with her baby. She wants desperately to forget it, so she flips on the TV and curls up into a ball and tries to doze off. Lies shivering under the blankets, trying to concentrate on the voices on the TV instead of other, darker things.

She's almost asleep when she hears it: the heavy footsteps thudding outside of her door. The brief, faint glow coming from under the crack that she sees when she opens her eyes.

---

Scully isn't sure how long she sleeps. But she wakes up hours later when it is still dark outside, her phone buzzing loudly in her purse. Figuring that the only people who would call her at this hour—sometime after 3 a.m., she notes with a wince—are Mulder or her mother, she drags herself out of bed and fumbles through her purse for her phone, nestled up against her makeup case. The display reads William, and she blinks in rapid surprise, confusion. Rubs the sleep from her eyes. And then she sees that her phone says Mulder, and feels foolish for ever thinking it said William in the first place. Some leftover guilt from her nightmare. She swallows hard, her throat thick.

She answers just before it clicks over to voicemail and groggily answers, “Scully.” She’s still tired, still half asleep. This has not been one of her better nights, and she's guessing she'll be exhausted tomorrow.

“Hey, Scully, it's me,” says Mulder on the other end. “Sorry, I know it's early.”

“It's okay,” she says, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

“When do you leave last night? I don't remember…”

She presses the heel of her hand harder against her mouth, says sleepily, “Mulder, did you call me at three a.m. just to talk about that?”

“Oh… no.” He sounds slightly embarrassed. “Skinner called. There's a man dead in Philadelphia, apparently. Drawn and quartered. Apparently the detective that called said that he found something spooky about the crime scene.”

“But we're on a case right now,” Scully says with another yawn.

“I know, but Skinner asked us to go on and handle this one, considering that a man is dead.” Mulder sounds slightly miffed, irritable to be pulled off of one case and onto another. “I was thinking we could leave about… six?”

Scully rubs her eyes tiredly. “Sounds wonderful, Mulder.”

“Okay,” he says sheepishly. “So you can… get a couple more hours of sleep.”

“Sure.”

“See you at six, Scully.”

In one heart-shock moment, Scully remembers the stranger from the night before, the cloaked and the strange smile, and she remembers Robbie's description of the ghost. Minus the lantern, the figure she saw feels too familiar, and she says, “Mulder, wait,” on an impulse.

“What's up, Scully?”

She hesitates for a moment, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. The more she considers it, it seems silly. There's nothing in particular that distinguishes that man as supernatural. She'd had a nightmare, she's being silly and paranoid, she should just forget about it. She backtracks quickly: “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she says. “I'll see you at six, okay?”

Mulder sounds skeptical, but he doesn't push, and she is grateful for that. “See you at six.”

The phone beeps as he hangs up on the other end. When she was much younger, she used to feel insulted that Mulder never said goodbye before hanging up. Now, strangely enough, she thinks it might be one of the things she loves most about him.

Scully slips the phone back into her purse and goes back to bed. Sitting here, with Mulder's voice echoing in her ear, she feels perfectly grounded. Completely dismissive of the idea that she could've ever seen a ghost. It's not possible. For whatever reason, talking to Ryan Caruthers shook her up, but she's fine now. Just fine. They're going to work on a different case now, and she's going to forget she ever had this nightmare, and everything is going to be fine.

She curls up in bed and tries to drift off to sleep—a hopefully dreamless sleep—before they have to drive to Philadelphia.

[lu-undy]

Chapter 11 - SBT

Here it is!

The Frenchman hit the hotel after his lunch with Victoria. He left the car to the parking valet and shot to the lift where he found Bastian.

“Which floor, Sir?”

“Cinquième.”

[Fifth.]

“Right, Sir.” The young man felt it. His client felt under the weather somehow. He wasn’t his same confident self. Of course, Bastian stayed away from questioning it or trying anything. He kept to his job and politely obliged.

When the lift stopped and the bell rang, the doors opening wide, Lucien resolutely exited without adding a word. As the doors closed again, Bastian put his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh?”

When his hand emerged out of it, a few coins shone in the palm of his white gloved hand. He smiled.

Meanwhile, Lucien had slammed the door shut as he entered his suite. He went straight to his bathroom. He opened the taps fully and let the water flow in a violent and loud stream. He removed his expensive shoes, put them out next to the front door and started stripping naked in front of the bathtub. His eyes were riveted on the water, the chaotic stream creating and destroying bubbles. 

His tie, jacket and vest flew out of the way quickly and he stayed bare-chested, crouched down, his chin and his arms on the edge of the bathtub, staring emptily at the water level rise. He couldn't hear his own thoughts if he had wanted to, the bath was too loud. Perfect, that was absolutely the point. Lucien wanted to smother and drown the voices in his head which repeated what Victoria had said. 

Bullshit! It's impossible to not feel lonely!

He frowned. Of course it was! That was how he had managed to survive! He had managed to embrace his loneliness and accept it! Victoria was young… Oui, too young to understand, no doubt. And of course such a sacrifice comes at a price! It is far from easy! But he had made it, he had succeeded in ridding himself of that feeling, the impression of a vacancy in his heart where a human should be...

The Frenchman sighed and stopped the water from running. The bath was full. He looked at the bottles standing at the edge of it and found some bubbling gel. He poured some in and mixed it until a thick foam formed at the surface. Lucien finished stripping naked and slipped in.

He let himself sink in slowly, until his back rested against the bathtub. He laid his head back and let his eyelids fall on his eyes. 

"Mon Dieu…" 

[My God…]

His lips hardly moved and the words slipped between them in a thin thread of air. 

Now what?

Well, now there was no loud water to deafen the voices in his head, no walking hard and fast to escape them either. Non, he had to face it all.

Fine.

Oui. Victoria was right, but only partly. Only very partly. There were a few times where he could still feel it, feel that he missed someone. Who? Well, that woman obviously, who else? Well…

Lucien frowned, his eyes still closed. 

Now if he was being honest, he was over her. He had put her in that tin box that was under the ground in a parisian park. She didn’t exist anymore. She was long gone. But he couldn’t help it. Each time he felt that feeling of emptiness creep up on him, he would think of her. It wasn’t because he missed her per se, but rather because he had no one to think about and associate that longing to.

Longing.

Oui, sometimes, very rarely though, the Frenchman longed for someone. Someone to hold, or to be held by. Someone to share his days with, someone to make sure his dreams were peaceful.

"Mon Dieu…"

His jaw relaxed. 

He thought back of these countless times he had someone to warm his bed. Those were surely happier times. But for some reason, he did not miss those the most, even though they did bring some kind of satisfaction… 

"Pfff…" 

He sighed. Enough for the bath. He felt himself spiralling down to useless thoughts. The Frenchman washed himself and exited his bathroom, wearing his bathrobe. In his bedroom, he chose a shirt and trousers and put them on. Lucien went to face the tall mirror next to the entrance to fix his cuffs and tie. 

He stared at himself, his hair disorganised and still damp. He hated his grey, lifeless eyes and frowned, focusing on the tie.

"Bien…" 

[Well…]

He punctuated, as if to turn the page of his mind. He thought back on his mission. 

"The target makes himself rare in public, hm? So be it, but I hope I will be able to at least catch a glimpse of him at The Queen Victoria. To that end, I need Richard's suit… I hope he will be fast. The sooner I go to that place, the better. Actually, maybe I can work on its layout first….? Oui, I shall ask Maurice for a map of the building and maybe a list of frequent clients."

He finished with his tie and went to grab his file. The Frenchman then put everything on the coffee table and sat down on the black leather sofa in front of it. He raised his head to see if there were any clocks on the wall to see the time when-

"Oh…" 

He hadn't realised it but his living room was massive. It was much more spacious than what he had caught a glimpse of as he had entered his suite the first time. Moreover, one side of it was entirely windowed and he could see a good part of the city from it. The view cut his breath short for a moment. But that wasn't what caught his attention first and foremost. Non. 

He stood up and walked to what had caught his eye. 

"Very nice…"

He let the tips of his finger delicately brush the black varnished wood before pulling the stool and sitting down. He opened the long black varnished lid and set his fingers on the keys. 

A piano was sitting in the middle of his living room and he hadn't noticed it for days… 

He looked at his fingers on the white keys. Last time he had seen them like that, the skin was smoother and he could see everything but the age on them. Now of course, it was much different.

What should he play? 

What key to press? What hammer should hit the strings of silence? 

He knew. And started playing.

{To the reader: Listen to Bard by Brad Meldhau on Youtube!}

The first few notes were shy, he didn't dare push the silence away too hard. He just wanted to fill the void, have the melody and the slightly dissonant harmonies talk to him in a way that words couldn't, even in his mother tongue. 

For there are ideas that simply cannot be put into words, they can't be molded into letters and put together into a string like the pearls of a necklace that passes from one to the next. Non. Some ideas cannot be expressed in words but…

But tones, sounds, melodies, harmonies. Those could render those invisible colours of the soul. Non. Music was the only vehicle to take these emotions from within himself and gently blow them out, like he would a fluffy dandelion. Music was the only one who could guide those wordless primitive waves of his insides into the air. 

And at what cost did it all come? As usual and as they say in French 'La fin justifie les moyens' : the end justifies the means. 

Lucien did not care that he would probably sit there for hours on end, he did not care that the sky went from blue, to pink, to orange, to dark as he still sat there, hunched over the ivory keys that hit him repeatedly. Neither did he mind that his back would not forgive him for this. The strain that he put onto his shoulders and his spine, he ignored. Those could wait and be cured easily with some aspirin. For the pain he was easing now with all this, there was no prescription. 

He played relentlessly and it lasted for hours until he could barely see the keys in the darkness of the night. He raised his nose off the keyboard and saw the night city, the buildings standing like black silhouettes only punctuated by yellow-lit windows here and there. 

Lucien took a deep breath and sighed before straightening his back and stretching his shoulders. Now he could feel the back pain. But at least his mind and spirit were empty. He could face life again. So he decided on a late night coffee. He would go on foot too, no need to get the Panthera out for that. 

The Frenchman took his jacket and exited his dark suite.  On his way out he met with Bastian. He signaled him to get closer. 

"Va voir Maurice et demande-lui les plans complets de l'intérieur du Queen Victoria pour moi s'il te plaît." 

[Tell Maurice I need the complete plans of the layout for the Queen Victoria, please.]

The young man nodded. 

"Sure, Sir."

"Thanks."

As he walked out of the hotel, Lucien realised that the city was still pretty busy. Nightclubbers and young people were the faces that he mostly saw as the night was rarely for families with children. 

He stopped at a crossway and lit a cigarette, waiting for the cars to stop passing and let him through. 

He crossed the road and continued, a cigarette between his lips. His feet were choosing the path, he was merely following until he found himself in front of a shop. The neon light at the entrance was blinking in blue and pink. 

Joe's

He pushed the door and the jingle of a bell rang. Lucien could hear the static noise of a radio further in the narrow shop but it wasn't music, no, the background noise covering the voice was too loud for it. It was sports, some match or competition of some sort.

"Look, who it is, eh? Came back for another map?" 

Joe emerged from nowhere. 

"Ah, good evening. Non, I am just…"

Lucien had no idea what he was doing. 

"Just havin' a look, eh? It's fine, take yer time, I'll just be at the radio, we're playin' New Zealand, see?" 

Joe turned his slender silhouette and started walking away. 

"Wait."

He stopped. 

"Can I ask you something, Joe?" 

"O'course, son. What d'you need?" 

"We can go at the counter if you'd prefer to have a seat." Lucien suggested. 

"Oh, long story time, eh? Roight, follow me." 

Given how small the shop was, it only took them a few seconds to arrive at their destination. Joe walked behind the counter and hopped on his tall stool. 

"So, tell me." 

"I would like to ask you what Victoria likes." 

Joe's bushy eyebrows jumped. 

"What?" 

"Does she have any passions? Is there anything she likes to do outside of her working hours?" 

Joe lowered the volume on his radio until it was but a whisper, and pointed an accusative finger at the Frenchman. 

"Oi there, listen. You don't touch my little girl Vicky, alroight?"

"Pardon?" Lucien asked in his native language. 

"Ya heard me alroight. You lay a finger on her hair and I'll find ya! By God, she's half your age, son! You could be her dad! Go find yerself someone who’s really for you!”

“Joe, non, you misunderstood me, I - oh mon Dieu! I hope she isn’t under that impression too… I just… Argh.."

Lucien sighed and put a hand on his brow. 

"Vicky's a good girl."

"I know." The Frenchman answered. "Which is why I am asking you this. I might have offended her and I want to make it up to her."

"What did you do?" 

"She said something that was too true for me to hear. So I left her without adding a word."

"Not exactly well mannered comin' from a posh fellow like you, eh?"

He nodded. 

"Alroight. Tell you what. She's got a collection of comics that she likes. Here's the next issue." 

Joe put a magazine on the counter. 

"Get that to her and apologise."

"Merci."

"T's'alright."

"How much do I owe you?" Lucien asked. 

"Not a cent. You're doin' it for her, which is enough for me. Now go and I hope she'll forgive you."

Lucien took the comics book and raised an eyebrow to Joe. 

"Why?" He asked. 

"'Cause she likes you, the poor thing. She's never had friends to have lunch with before, y'know."

"How do you know about our lunch?" 

"She came here before you did. Brought me me pills. And she talked. But she's back home now. If you wanna see her, you'll have to wait for tomorrow."

"I see. Many thanks, Joe."

"See ya." 

And with the same jingle of the bells, the Frenchman went through the door. On his way back to the hotel, he looked through the window of the restaurant where Victoria worked. The lights were off and it was lifeless. Only the jukebox still shone in a corner of the room.

Lucien went on until he found himself back in the hotel. 

"Evening, Sir." 

He turned and saw Bastian. 

"Bonsoir, Bastien." He answered. 

[Good evening Bastian.]

The young man went to the lift and entered right before the Frenchman slipped in.

"Fifth floor, Sir?" 

"Oui, s'il te plaît."

[Yes, please.]

The doors of the lift slowly slid shut and they both felt it take off the ground floor. 

"Bastien?"

"Yes, Sir?" 

"You can call me just L." 

"Ah, alright, thanks L."

"Tell me, is there anyone who has the rooms around my own?" 

The young man raised an eyebrow at the weird question. 

"I don't think so. And in any case, suite 504 is one of the biggest that we have. It occupies almost a third of the floor. The other rooms are much smaller." 

"I see. Could you double check for me please?" 

"Of course, Sir." 

"Merci bien." 

[Thank you very much.]

The doors of the lift slid open and the Frenchman stepped off.

"I will be waiting for your answer in my room."

"Alright L, I'll just be a minute."

The Frenchman nodded and followed the corridor to his suite. He entered and removed his jacket and shoes. He flipped one of the switches just to have barely enough light to see. He headed straight to the bar where he found a bottle of what looked like wine. He opened it and poured himself a glass.

Ha, wine. 

You can’t call it wine when the cap is a plastic lid that you have to unscrew. Non. Proper wine came in a glass bottle too dark to see the subtle beverage, like black tights on a woman’s slim legs. Barely enough to see its content but more than enough to see its shapes. He drank it and it stung the back of his throat. 

He coughed a few times. He hadn’t expected it to be that acidic. What château was that?! Ah, yes, a local cheap one.  

There was a knock at the door. Lucien went and opened it.

“Ah, Bastien, alors?”

[Ah, Bastian, so?]

“They are all empty and the house will keep them so for you.”

“Parfait. Thank you very much.”

[Perfect.]

“You’re welcome, Sir.”

“Oh, and Bastien?”

“Yes?”

The Frenchman took a step forward, stepping out of his suite, his feet in direct contact with the carpet of the corridor. He adjusted the young man’s tie and his hat.

“There. That is better. If you want to make it, you have to pay attention to the details, mon petit.”

[My little one.]

“Oh, uh, thank you very much, Sir.”

“L.” Lucien corrected him.

“Ah yes, L.”

“Now, good night.”

“G’night, L!”

Lucien watched as the young man walked as light as a feather back to the lift. He smiled to himself and got back inside his suite. 

Without a second thought, he grabbed his glass of wi--whatever that dark, acidic beverage was and went to the piano again. He brought an ashtray and lit a cigarette. 

The Frenchman didn't feel like sleeping despite the late hour of the night. Instead, he repeated some pieces that he knew again and again. And now that he knew he had no neighbours, he didn't hold back his fingers. 

He loosened his tie and gulping down more of the bitter wine, he drummed his fingers on the ivory keys more aggressively, more passionately. 

Non, he wasn't going to sleep that night and God had given him a finely tuned piano. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity. 

His fingers slithered, glided and slammed rhythmically as his bare foot crushed the pedal repeatedly. 

Soon he closed his eyes. He had tamed the keys, they would come under his fingers when he needed them without him even having to ask in any way or another. He shook his head left and right, his cigarette between his lips. 

He had spent minutes that transformed into hours playing. The tie had been thrown away and the shirt had three buttons open as the sweat beaded and rolled down his brow, his eyes still screwed shut. His hair flew after him as his shoulders were jumping in sync with the tempo. The grey and black, wet locks now stuck to his brow or slammed it repeatedly. 

And he didn't know it but the sun was rising and the birds were chirping. 

Lucien rolled the sleeve of his left arm as it was still playing and then did the same to his right hand. 

The sun was rising but his eyes were still closed. The Frenchman would start his day only when his ears and soul would have been nourished enough.