#and i’ve not taken them out in a little bit bc they have weekend jobs and friends and they’re busy you know

[neondiamond]

.

[kittensharl]

your asks about this kika/pierre situation made its way to my dash and i have so many thoughts about it (not that many as i don’t think about it that much, of course) but just like. IT IS such a weird relationship and i think i just need to rant about this all a bit if you don’t mind, bc i don’t think it would be a welcome topic on the environments i’m in (it’s not even a topic to be fair)

i don’t think the age gap itself is the problem, people have relationships with a 10 year gap and it works just fine (my parents have it, for example, married for 25 years) but i just think they’re in different stages in their lives. it’s one thing when it’s 30-37 or something like that, but 19-27??

and i’m not gonna say i don’t understand what either of them is looking for, i just don’t think, like i’ve seen around, that this is COMPLETELY his fault. i think she knows what she’s doing, she’s aware of the consequences this will have for her even when it ends. she’s in the spotlight and she might get her account deleted and posts reported a few times, yes, but she’s being seen, and that’s what she wants.

i also agree, i think he always looks more invested than her, like, 90% of the time. she posts him a lot because she needs the spotlight but he posts her including her in his daily life, like, not making a big deal out of it but making sure she’s there. and i’m pretty sure every photo of them both that wasn’t taken by them personally or like, they are posing in vacation or whatever, she never looks like, genuinely happy to be there. (ie. you see the cannes photos, the beach photos, she’s just there, looking completely bored and as if she would rather be at the coffee shop near her house than there). like come on, charles looks at pierre with more emotion than her!

and like, this doesn’t come from a place of jealousy like ‘i want to date him and i’m the only one for him’, it really is not (i’m not even his type, meaning, i am not a starved model-like body who’s “perfect” iykwim, and i am conscious).

i just find it so odd for your whole life to spin around being someone’s girlfriend? bc that’s all she is, no career no job no nothing, just ‘pierre gasly’s girlfriend’ and that’s just completely ????????? for me. if you search for her name anywhere, everything will be linking her to him, not a single thing about her as a person, only this persona, which would be fine if she was a “normal person” but she is allegedly a model, actress, tv host (i actually went to google her just for curiosity) so why doesn’t she have her own image? she’s following him EVERYWHERE, she’s in EVERY SINGLE RACE this year and i get that she’s the girlfriend and she’ll want to be with him as much as possible but just like, don’t you have ANYTHING ELSE going on? don’t you have something else to do instead of just follow him around like a puppy? not even A SINGLE WEEKEND?

i see people saying sometimes ‘they are so in love’ ‘they are perfect together’ of course they are in love, it’s a new relationship with a person so far from your age that everything is even more new and exciting than it already is. ‘she said he’s the love of her life’ OF COURSE SHE DID SHE’S 19!!!!! HE’S NOT THE LOVE OF HER LIFE, SHE’S JUST SO YOUNG AND LIKELY UNEXPERIENCED THAT SHE’LL THINK THAT A GUY WHO (apparently) TREATS HER RIGHTS AND SPOILS HER IS THE LOVE OF HER LIFE!!!!!!

also she lowkey looks like sid from ice age and kelly piquet together

so yeah, like, i won’t go online and report her account or even as much as look for her account to be fair, but i feel a bit of uneasiness when i see them together (fortunately, that’s rarely ever)

i don’t know, i don’t even know either of them like irl but pierre is a little cringe but he does seem like a nice guy, and i don’t even know her enough even from social media to say something about her, but yeah, i don’t know, i try to avoid this whole relationship in general because it icks me too much.

i don’t even do wags in general honestly, i don’t know why i get so bothered by her specifically. anyways you don’t even need to answer this, i stumbled upon your few asks and i agreed with all of them so much.

Thank SO MUCH FOR this raaaant!! I enjoyed reading it and agreed agreed A.G.R.E.E.D, yes - oh yes - she resembles Sid and Kelly, you are so right. And so true it is that Charles drowns in Pierre's eyes, he drowns and they flirt and they joke, nothing of the likes that Kika ever did in a picture/video with Pierre so far. In a better universe Piarles had been the real thing, am I right?

Over to the beach picture situation. It was… strange at best, aye. I found myself wondering if that’s her default going-into-the-ocean face or is she genuinely as bored as she looks? I’m a firm speculator in the speculation department of Kika Speculations that at some stage her patience for his antics, shenanigans, playfulness will dwindle because of how she has shown to squirm uncomfortably and such in the face of it (tumblr provided the evidence). But as these overly exciting and erotic hormones she is infected by right now starts to fade, she will naturally start to get annoyed by certain things Pierre does or says regardless—this is a critical phase that many couples go through as they head out of the rosy honeymoon phase fog that felt so dreamy and magical. The younger you are the less likely will you be able to confront that in a healthy way and more likely will it result in breakups. So, looking at Kika’s age only: she is in a higher risk of leaving Pierre. It can be that she will leech herself onto him harder to suck up more fame in his radius while simultaneously feeling bored and frustrated with him tho, resulting in Pierre breaking up with her, really.

The people complaining that the age gap is too big and accusing Pierre for being a predator and preying on Kika like a creep deserves to only ever eat burnt bacon with this cursed creature:

[1kook]

card swiped (4)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” GENRE romance (romcom?), eventual smut, teensy angst WARNING mentions of a hand job, talk of virginity OTHER college crushes, volleyball player!jk, student council president!oc, idiots to lovers, besties to lovers, childhood friends au RATING m (18+) bc brief sex ment WC 1.6k

NOTES (!) sorry for taking so long to update </3 school be kicking my ass. anyway here they are! an idiot couple. lmk what u think!!

[ masterlist ] 

In the past, whenever something had bothered you, the first person you ran to was Jungkook. Low grades, fights with your parents, boy drama— as your best friend and number one confidant, Jungkook was always your first choice. He was always willing to lend you a shoulder to cry on, even if that meant staining his white t-shirts with streaks of your mascara. He was always ready to go beat up a mean boy who had hurt your feelings during lunch, even if he’d miss his favorite special. And he was always down for some good old fashion i hate my parents ranting, even if he adored your parents. He was a great listener, an even better best friend, and had rightfully won you over from a very young age. 

That being said, how were you supposed to talk to Jungkook about something that bothered you when that something was him? 

You could easily tell any of your numerous girl friends, those of which would probably understand your predicament better than Jungkook or any man ever could. But after years of vehemently denying any notion of a romantic relationship between the two of you, you get the feeling your call for help will be met with more unimpressed glares than actual assistance. Besides, as much as you bring up Jungkook, none of them really know Jungkook to truly offer you any worthwhile advice. 

Your next option: Kim Taehyung. Now, Kim Taehyung held a similar background as Jungkook (translation: he also went to the same high school as you). He knows both you and Jungkook—frankly, more than you’d like him to—so he would be able to dissect the issue easily and offer trustworthy advice. The problem with Kim Taehyung, however, is that aside from knowing you at your embarrassingly dorky teenage prime, he doesn’t know how to keep a secret. Anything he knows, Jungkook knows. So if you were to, hypothetically, ask Taehyung for advice on Jungkook, well. Chances are, you’d probably get a rather confused text from Jungkook two minutes later. 

Which leaves you with one option— Park Jimin. There’s a reason Park Jimin isn’t your first option, and that reason presents itself now as you glare at him from across the empty room. For as long as you’ve been in university, Jimin has always lingered around the student council meetings, giving everyone he sees the prettiest, meanest stink-eye. You suspect it’s because he waits around for Min Yoongi, your Vice President (which isn’t an issue; Jungkook also frequents student council meetings while waiting for you), and doesn’t really care for anyone else. Your problem with Jimin doesn’t lie there but rather with the fact he’s adamant on taking up space and not lending so much as a finger to help. 

Today he is sitting with his feet on the table, dirty volleyball bag tossed on the floor. He’s watched you for the last fifteen minutes wrestle with the broken copy machine and hasn’t said a word since. He pretends he doesn’t see you struggling, because if he does, he’d be obligated to help you. 

To summarize, Park Jimin may be the fastest libero your university’s volleyball team has seen in years, but he’s a good-for-nothing bum everywhere else. 

And despite all that, he’s your best choice. There’s no one quite as blunt and honest as Park Jimin. There’s no one in this world who truly doesn’t care enough about anyone’s problems to gossip about them as Park Jimin. You plop down beside him, rumpled papers in hand. Without warning, you jump straight into it. “Jungkook is going to take my virginity,” you announce, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. If any of your fellow student council members heard you, you’re certain you’d shrivel up and die. 

Jimin hums. “That’s nice.” His eyes don’t leave his phone, thumb hovering over his screen. It’s a testament to how much he truly does not care. His extended silence plants a seed of doubt in you— was this the right person to tell? you begin to worry. But after a beat, Jimin’s thumb taps against his screen and he says, “Jungkook is a virgin.” 

You clench your jaw. “I know.” 

The thing about Jimin is, with the right wording, you can get him interested in something. Not interested enough to genuinely care, but interested enough to at least listen and offer his own piece of straightforward advice. His thumb comes to a standstill over his phone, eyes momentarily going blank. It’s a minute gesture, one that’s taken you four years of paying attention to catch. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. “Really,” Jimin sighs, back to, you now realize, playing CandyCrush on his phone. “You’re gonna let a virgin take your virginity.”

Not a question, but you nod anyway. “Yup.” 

There’s sweat building on the back of your neck, nerves at an all time high, but you’re trying to play it off. Just a little bit more and you know you’ll have caught him. Beside you, Jimin’s jaw twitches. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of trying to act calm, Jimin clicks his phone off and turns to you. He’s as intimidating as ever, ash blonde hair pushed back today to reveal his forehead and dark eyes. “You’ve known Jungkook was a virgin this whole time?” he asks, has this calculating look in his eyes that makes you feel like you’re being questioned by an officer of the law and not the shortest person on the volleyball team. 

With a practiced air of nonchalance, you shrug. “I have,” you confess, and it’s the truth. 

While you may have been initially fooled that night two years ago, you weren’t that oblivious. Oh, you knew clear as day that Jeon Jungkook was still a virgin, just as well as you knew that he religiously washed his sheets every weekend or that he had a specific color coded system for his underwear drawer. Jungkook was a fool to try and lie to you, not only because you had found out, but because you had found out that very next morning. 

It had been subtle. The night at the party, you had watched on with a throbbing heartache as some pretty girl led Jungkook up a set of stairs, had barely fought off a wave of emotion when he returned twenty minutes later, his hair a rumpled mess. “Did you… ?” you had mumbled, pressed closely against him by the back door. Your eyes had been glassy, from your emotions and from the drunken stupor you had gotten yourself into while he was away, wondering what he was doing. A sense of jealousy you would never admit to had curled around your heart. His hand had landed on your hip then. He smelled like flowers and vanilla, a smell unlike his own. Your heart clenched, hand mindlessly reaching up to cup his jaw, so drunk and heartbroken, you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing your fingers along his pretty cheekbones. 

Jungkook had graced you with a simple nod, and then, “do you wanna leave now?” 

You’d left, stumbling down Greek road on your way back to his dorm. Jungkook had held your hand the whole way, tucked you into his twin bed, and then promptly knocked out on the floor between his and Taehyung’s beds. The latter was nowhere to be found, wouldn’t appear until the next morning when he’d accidentally step on Jungkook’s ankle and wake both of you up. 

Jungkook had yelped, and your eyes had fluttered open. You remember debating rolling over, checking on him like you wanted to, but Taehyung was already there doing just that. So you had laid still instead, listened as the two boys clattered around the room. They chatted mindlessly, about the party and tomorrow’s practice. Taehyung had been bragging about some girl he’d slept with last night. “What about you?” he had asked, and your breath caught in your throat. “Did you and…”—a pause, the distinct ruffle of fabric—“finally?” 

“What— no,” Jungkook had said, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge beside you.

Taehyung pushed on with a snort. “Well, did you get lucky at all?”

Jungkook groaned, placed one warm hand on your back soothingly. You tried your best to level out your breathing, relaxed your facial expression as you clung to the sound of his voice. “Just a handjob. Some girl I didn’t even know. Does that count?” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, felt it beneath your fingertips when you fisted the sheets. 

And that curt admission sat in the back of your mind everyday for two years. 

You turn to Jimin. “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

Jimin lets out a low whistle. “You’re smarter than I thought,” he grins, this conniving little smile that is a genuine cause for concern. “So you’re letting him think you don’t know?” You nod. Jimin’s smile grows. “My, my. If I had known you were this evil, maybe we would’ve hung out more.” 

You roll your eyes. “I’m not evil,” you insist, flicking him on the nose. Jimin huffs indignantly. “I think what he’s doing is sweet…” you confess, feel your entire body heat up as you recall that wide-eyed look Jungkook had given you just yesterday afternoon, your kiss print fresh on his cheek. “And, well,” you look down at your shoes. “I used to dream about him being my first.” 

Jimin groans. “You two make me sick.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Transcript of End of the Road Special

Transcript of End of the Road Special. 

Please let me know if I made any errors in transcription. Twitter version Family Don’t End with Blood Transcription Winchester Mythology Transcription

Dabb: Ultimately, we came up with something that we're all very proud of Singer: You never know what the audience is going to like so we really tried to say "what would make us happy? Would we be satisfied with where we've taken them?"

The Carry On song was a guideline.

Singer: The myth of what these brothers were throughout 15 years... We didn't shy away from fatalism, but we wanted to be able to have it be kinda uplifting as well.

Dabb: If you're going to do something that feels like a complete arc, you have to kinda go back to the beginning of it (clips of them hunting vamps from s1 & 15.20) When it comes to Sam & Dean- it's all about getting back to, in some ways, these two guys on the road in this car.

Dabb: They've been doing this job for 15 years now. They've fought everyone from demons to vampires to God himself, but at the end of the day, they're still working guys, out there on the road & taking cases. We've tried to never lose sight of that.

Dabb: There are times when we've been wrapped up in our own mythology a little bit. We've always tried to get back to the basics, which are: these two guys, saving people, hunting things. 

Eugenie: I think we sort of knew generally what the ending would involve.

Eugenie: We might not have known the mechanics, but we sort of knew there would be a victorious, glorious sacrificial ending bc I think sacrifice is a big theme in the series.

For every great thing you do, a cost must be paid.

Singer: Andrew & I talked about it. We were in agreement pretty quickly... talked to the rest of the writing staff & let them know what we wanted to do and we were open to suggestions. And then we pretty much pitched it to Jared and Jensen.

Jensen talks about flying to LA. Jensen: So before we ever even started 15, we knew how the last portion of the story was going to go. We didn't know how we were going to get there, but we kinda knew the final- the finish line- we knew what... what that was going to look like.

Jared: I don't think there's ever been a season of SPN in 15 years where the way the writers thought the show would play out for that season- ended up being the way it played out And so we were aware of that. They told us here's what we're thinking, here's what happens to Castiel

Jared: In the finale, Dean dies & Sam lives on. And then we think they're going to meet up in heaven. 

I remember Jensen... just because I know him so well- he seemed to bristle a little bit.

Jensen: It was hard to hear then & it was hard to read now. Not because I didn't like it, not because I wished it had gone differently... I'm not adverse to it. I think it's a great ending. I'm proud to film it.

Singer: And we just aimed for that, you know, throughout the season. We knew where we were going.

Jensen: Reading it & knowing that... there's just a weight that is so much larger reading these scripts than I've ever experienced before. 

There's an emotional weight that these scripts are going to carry & these episodes are going to have that I don't think we've ever seen before.

Brad: [J2] were so young when all of this started. They brought to it such conviction & such commitment to the effort. 

That's one of the things that kept the show going for so many years... a show that was designed for very young guys, footloose & fancy free, & on the road…

Brad: To see these guys grow up b4 your eyes into- men, not boys any longer- was amazing. 

BABY Jared: Though the story does involve Sam & Dean chasing supernatural things, it really is a story about two brothers that love each other & ultimately will do anything for each other.

Jensen: There's really one person that gets it on the level that I get it, and that's Jared. Jared: I've never spent as much time with another human being as I have with Jensen Ackles. He will be my friend and brother forever. And I know that.

BABY Jensen: There's a lot of dynamics between the two brothers, there's a lot of history between them, there's a lot of banter between them... it's good stuff S15 Jensen: We had a partner in crime & we leaned on each other for, you know, for times when it was tough.

Jensen: But we also won together. We got to share the experience of success & the experience of getting picked up for another season. Watching these two characters go through what they're going through, when we're working 14 hours & it's 2-3 o’clock on a Sat morning and we're just now finishing filming out in the rain and mud and we gotta race to the airport to get on a plane because we've got a photoshoot in LA & we've gotta do on camera interviews and we gotta promote the show that we love so much that we were just in the mud & the rain filming hours before we're exhausted and it's like there's only one person that gets that right now. That gets how I feel and that's this guy standing next to me. That's pretty cool. That's pretty cool to have somebody like that.

Brad: We knew it was going to be impossible to tie up every aspect of all of the cans of worms that we opened up. 

We did want to bring a proper ending to the guys, the guy's relationship.

Brad: Then of course we had this huge corner we painted ourselves into with the most powerful thing in the universe being the big bad of the season. We try and find a proper send off for Jack & for Cas. What to do w/ the boys & is that a together farewell or an individual?

It was just... lots of moving parts. 

Dabb: I give a lot of credit to Bobo who really was the one who started banging the drum early & often to ending the mythology in 19 and end the characters in 20.

Brad: You're battling God & battling God & you have this epic situation going on through the first 3/4 of the show & then what? You send off Dean in act 4? That just felt wrong. Eugenie: We had this obligation, it was really mandatory, that we tie up the mythic narrative and leave the final episode for the emotional resolution. I [was] more on the side of not wanting to best God. To have God change to be more like his creations. So there were philosophical arguments, but we always knew God's resolution was going to be a big ticket item.

Jensen: We'd started day 1 of the 2nd to last episode, 19. We were 1 day down on that episode & we were just about to start our 2nd day & we got the call that morning that we were not going to be coming in that day.

Jensen: So we figured ok, we'll figure out protocol, figure out what we need to do, & we'll just regroup, come back on Monday. As that day progressed, it was like- this looks like more of an apocalypse that is ascending upon us than just a bad cold.

They pulled the plug & they said everybody go home. 

Singer: Fortunately, we got assurance from both the studio & the network that one way or another we were gonna finish the series. That was comforting to us, but we didn't know when we were going to go back.

Eugenie: We didn't know what we were going back to... if this was the last time we would ever see the set. There was no plan. It was just get out of dodge. Dabb: When it first happened, we thought it would be a couple of weeks, maybe a month.

I had conversations w/WB where they expected everyone to be back shooting in June & then things got worse & pushed & pushed.

Eugenie: Slowly as we settled into that 4 or 5 month period, discussions were going on w/the studio, & the networks, & the actors. We knew there would be restrictions on what we were allowed to shoot, but finally, the mechanics were figured out. 

Singer: So they were ready to go pretty quickly, shooting in Van, where covid wasn't quite as virulent as it was [in LA].

Dabb: We were one of the first shows, one of the first WB shows to start back up. So in a way, we were kinda a guinea pig. But, in being that, I think everyone took it really seriously. We had 0 positive tests. Crew members weren't going out on the weekends.

They were like look, if I get sick, it hurts the whole show. That speaks to the family culture up there, where we've had so much of our crew for so long. Where J2 & Singer provide such great leadership.

Singer: When I was in prep for 20, I was basically in the office but couldn't go to the set. It was very odd for me not to be able to go to the set while I was in prep. 

Everybody just hung in there & did what they were supposed to do.

Brad: Then we were faced with the dilemma of having to rewrite a lot of the stuff bc of the pandemic bc of the limitations that we knew were going to come on the production.

Jensen: We were gearing up for, not only the end of that season, but the end of the series. There was a lot of big, big things written-packed- into those last two scripts.

Jared: At first, it was supposed to be a lot of our old cast from prior seasons in a Roadhouse with Kansas.

Everybody had already agreed. Kansas was going to be in Van. We were going to have dad there & mom there. Just probably 20 or 30 different actors & actresses who had been a part of the SPN's canon over the last 15 & a half years.

Jensen: It was scheduled to be the last day that we were going to film, so it was almost like rolling right into a nice wrap party on camera. 

Brad: The idea of flying a boatload of ppl up there to quarantine for 2 weeks so they could shoot for a day was making less & less sense.

Eugenie: How do we make this work? And while you're doing that, you also don't want to sacrifice the heart and soul of the project. 

So we came up with a reduced, much more intimate ending. It has been replaced by something equally magical & rewarding.

Singer: I felt an enormous responsibility in directing the finale of a show that's been on for 15 years. Andrew, when he saw the cut, he said some really nice things to me as to, you know, the way I handled the material.

Jensen: The scenes that were filmed on our last day on the sound stages were filled with the most emotion of the final episode. 

Singer: One of the really hard things was we're on another stage that wasn't the MoL stage & they started wrecking the MoL sets

They'd been working on this set and been apart of this- this family for just as long if not longer than the set's been around. I was like "it's really sad seeing this get taken down" and the other guy said, "I'm trying to hold back tears while I'm swinging this hammer."

Jared: As we start saying goodbye to characters, to locations, like it just seems like every day you would wake up and there would be some reason to cry. 

Misha: This is a show ultimately about love, & empathy, & caring, & I think that Castiel embodies that.

Misha: Half the crew was crying. It was really such a sweet, supporting environment to be in for the demise of a character that, of course, for me is really important. 

But it was so lovely to see that, you know, the folks that I'm- I'm working with were also there for Cas at that moment. 

Alex: To get to work with these caliber people & see your friends every day is really special & is not something that often happens in this business for this long. It's been definitely a topsy turvy last couple weeks here with us and the crew. 

Jared: Friday of the final full week was the big scene in the barn with the vampires where Dean suffers his fate. They did the first two days with the entire stunt team & the young boy actors. 

And then they cut it for Thursday night and they're like, okay, Friday, tomorrow, we’re starting the dialogue. Dean, you're on the post. Sam, you just cut off the last vampire's head.

That was the scene- that was where Supernatural was really encapsulated. 

Jensen: And then the next week we kind of had this- on the road encore get together filmmaking scenario that felt more like we made it & it was more pats on the back as opposed to tearful goodbyes. 

Dabb: In a weird way you can look at the 15 seasons is like Sam & Dean's emotional evolution. You know instead of therapy, they kill vampires, but other than that it's kind of the same & brings them both to a very good place. And a place where they can, as the song says, you know, lay their weary head to rest. 

This felt like the most honest & emotionally fulfilling episode for these characters to us. Jared: I got thinking about how Supernatural started & how the majority of times how I thought it should end. It started with Sam & Dean Winchester. I think it's proper that it ended with Sam & Dean Winchester together again. 

Jensen: When the cameras stop rolling & Bob yelled, “Cut!” and Bob yelled, “That’s a series wrap on Supernatural.” There was- a there was a loud cheer that echoed through that canyon we were filming in. I will- I will happily say that there were hugs that happened and that needed to happen. Those are people that I spent not just years with, but so much time with- it's like brothers in arms and so to put it to bed the way that we did felt really good and then felt good to hug some people, I'll tell you that much. Singer: I thanked everyone, but I wanted to really thank people who had been with us from the beginning and as I looked around, there were so many people who had been there from the beginning.

We really were a family. I always say about this show is one of the reasons that it was a success and is that it was not only about the Winchester family, but it was about the Supernatural family. 

Jared: So now that's all said and done, I guess I can look back at it and just be proud that I helped this show carry on and I'm really proud of the blood, sweat, and tears that I put in, and I feel like- I feel like that sacrifice was also maybe one of the things I learned from Sam, you know? Sam had to sacrifice a lot. So, I'm honored and flattered and grateful that I got to be a part of that journey.

Dabb: You're never going to have another show like this. You're never gonna have another experience like this. For a lot of different reasons, from how long it ran, from the family that the show became, from the amazing fans that we have. [Footage of us] From the emotional investment people can put in over 15 years of their lives. 

Some started watching this when they were in high school, when they were 15, they're 30 now, they might have kids. That's their- that's like half their life. They've been with this show. You're not gonna have that again. Shows just aren’t gonna run this long, especially genre shows, but I don't know that I'm ever gonna do anything else in my career that I'm gonna be more proud of than having been involved in this show. 

Jared: The things that stick out are just how important it is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And keep on working and wake up every day and treat it like it could be your last and- and if you make it out the other side, you'll be happy and proud of what you did. 

Jensen: The crew had packed up, they had cleared the bridge, and they were all starting to, you know, load their trucks and get moving. And Jared and I just kind of hung back, and we just took a moment. I looked at him and I said, “I’m proud of us, man. I'm proud of what we've done.”

We know that that's the collective we, that is everyone that is involved, that is- you know from the top down. You know, for our portion, for what we contributed to this monster of the show, he and I reflected on that, and still able to see and smell the roses.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXLIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I knew ppl were going to drop my fic in this book bc I made things complicated but I don’t regret the plot— did it still made me sad? yes it sure did -Danny

Words: 5,256

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘No Control’ -by Dylan Reynolds

Chapter Five: The New Routine.

Dumbledore knocked on the door three times and Mrs Weasley's voice was quick to answer.

"Who's there? Declare yourself!"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry. Mel and Erick are with us."

"Harry, dear!" Mrs Weasley opened the door at once, letting them in. "Mel! Erick! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"We were lucky, Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. The children's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

"Hello, Professor... Wotcher, kids."

"Hi, Tonks."

Tonks was looking remarkably grim, Mel looked around the kitchen.

"Where's my mum?"

"I told her to go to bed," Mrs Weasley said sweetly, "it's almost midnight, the baby kept her up last night and she needed to sleep."

"I'd better be off," Tonks stood up. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account," said Dumbledore, "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

"No, no, I need to get going," She replied. "'Night —"

"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming — ?"

"My uncle's coming?" Mel asked with excitement.

"No, really, Molly... thanks anyway..." Tonks said tensely. "Good night, everyone."

"Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told them. "Take care of yourself. Molly, your servant."

He and Tonks disapparated, Erick spoke up.

"You have a lovely house, Mrs Weasley."

"Oh dear, well, we do make an effort on making it cosy," Mrs Weasley smiled.  "You're like Ron, all of you, you look as though you've had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"A bit," Erick agreed.

Mel sat down between them, she was quite pleased about Mrs Weasley's comment on her growth, even though hers was less noticeable than the boys' who now were five and seven inches taller than her.

Crookshanks and Grey quickly made their way to them. Grey didn't like Erick very much, though Mel didn't know why. Crookshanks, on the other hand, was a huge fan.

"So Hermione's here?" Harry asked as he watched the ginger cat ruin the impeccable set of clothes Erick was wearing.

"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday. Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you for hours. Here you are — Bread, dears?"

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley."

"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"

"It wasn't hard," Mel smiled. "Professor Slughorn was eager to get to know us better."

"He taught Arthur and me. He was at Hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?"

Harry and Erick shrugged, Mel kept her attention on her plate.

"I know what you mean... Of course he can be charming when he wants to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with Slughorn's old favorites, he was always good at giving leg ups, but he never had much time for Arthur — didn't seem to think he was enough of a highflier. Well, that just shows you, even Slughorn makes mistakes. I don't know whether Ron's told you in any of his letters — it's only just happened — but Arthur's been promoted!"

Harry made a funny noise, taken by surprise. Erick did a sort of delighted hum and Mel stopped eating, staring at her attentively.

"That's great!" Harry said.

"You are sweet... Yes, Rufus Scrimgeour has set up several new offices in response to the present situation, and Arthur's heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. It's a big job, he's got ten people reporting to him now!"

"Sounds important," Erick smiled.

"What exactly — ?"

"Well, you see, in all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. You can imagine the kind of thing — so-called protective potions that are really gravy with a bit of bubotuber pus added, or instructions for defensive jinxes that actually make your ears fall off..."

Mrs Weasley looked beyond proud as she told them all about her husband's new job. Mel was happy for him, she couldn't think of a man who deserved a promotion more than Mr Weasley.

"...So you see, it's a very important job, and I tell him it's just silly to miss dealing with spark plugs and toasters and all the rest of that Muggle rubbish."

"Well, the heart wants what it wants," Mel chuckled, she was unaware of the way both boys looked at her.

"Is Mr Weasley still at work?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late... He said he'd be back around midnight..."

Mel felt something awful crawling up her chest when she noticed all the tiny hands on the clock were now pointing at 'Mortal peril'.

"It's been like that for a while now," Mrs Weasley commented, "ever since You-Know-Who came back into the open. I suppose everybody's in mortal danger now... I don't think it can be just our family... but I don't know anyone else who's got a clock like this, so I can't check. Oh!"

Mr Weasley's was now currently pointing at 'travelling.'

"He's coming!" She got up, a second later there was a knock on the door. "Arthur, is that you?"

"Yes. But I would say that even if I were a Death Eater, dear. Ask the question!"

"Oh, honestly..."

"Molly!"

"All right, all right... What is your dearest ambition?"

"To find out how airplanes stay up."

Mel and Harry shared a look of amusement, she heard Erick mumbling 'How do they stay up?' Mrs Weasley tried to open the door but her husband kept it shut.

"Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!"

"Arthur, really, this is just silly..."

"What do you like me to call you when we're alone together?"

The group of teenagers froze.

"Mollywobbles," Mrs Weasley whispered to the tiny crack in the door.

Mel choked on the soup, Harry had to hide his face entirely to control his laughing fit after watching her almost die, Erick quickly patted her back.

"Correct," Mr Weasley said brightly. "Now you can let me in."

"I still don't see why we have to go through that every time you come home!" Mrs Weasley complained as the man walked in. "I mean, a Death Eater might have forced the answer out of you before impersonating you!"

"I know, dear, but it's Ministry procedure, and I have to set an example. Something smells good — onion soup? Kids! We didn't expect you until morning!"

They all greeted Mr Weasley, Mel finally able to breathe and Harry able to speak without cracking up.

"Thanks, Molly," He said when the woman set a plate for him. "It's been a tough night. Some idiot's started selling Metamorph-Medals. Just sling them around your neck and you'll be able to change your appearance at will. A hundred thousand disguises, all for ten Galleons!"

"And what really happens when you put them on?"

"Mostly you just turn a fairly unpleasant orange color, but a couple of people have also sprouted tentaclelike warts all over their bodies. As if St. Mungo's didn't have enough to do already!"

"It sounds like the sort of thing Fred and George would find funny," said Mrs Weasley with doubt. "Are you sure — ?"

"Of course I am! The boys wouldn't do anything like that now, not when people are desperate for protection!"

"So is that why you're late, Metamorph-Medals?"

"No, we got wind of a nasty backfiring jinx down in Elephant and Castle, but luckily the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had sorted it out by the time we got there..."

Harry yawned beside her, Mel was starting to feel weary herself after days of sleeping in the backseat of a car.

"Bed," said Mrs Weasley. "I've got Fred and George's room all ready for you, boys. Mel, you're sharing Ginny's bedroom but I don't want you to wake the girls up. Is it okay if you sleep with Erick and Harry tonight?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Mel yawned, too sleepy to care.

"Where are the twins?" Harry asked.

"Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shop as they're so busy," said Mrs Weasley, and Mel could tell there was a hint of pride in her voice. "I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Come on, dears, your trunks are already up there."

"'Night, Mr Weasley," said Harry.

"Thank you for letting us stay," Erick added.

"Have a goodnight!" Mel ended.

"G'night," said Mr Weasley.

Mel had been in the twins' room a couple of times through the years, it was startling when she walked in and couldn't recognize it. The smell of fireworks was still hanging in the air and there was a few boxes of their personal items laying around, but almost nothing left from their essence in the room, it made her feel homesick.

There were only two beds since they weren't expected until the next morning. Mrs Weasley quickly made a third bed appear with a flick of her wand, it was smaller than the other two, mostly blankets and cushions piled together. She apologized profusely, but Mel didn't mind, she would've slept on the floor considering how exhausted she was.

The boys insisted that she took one of their beds but Mel refused, when she came back from changing Erick was already tucked in her pile of blankets. Harry was grinning at the way his feet were hanging over the edge.

The following morning she was awoken by the door slamming open and a pair of feet stomping into the room. She hid her face between the pillows, Harry's mattress squeaked as he sat up, and fabric rustled as Erick pushed down his blankets.

"Wuzzgoinon?" Harry asked sleepily.

"We didn't know you were here already!" There was a soft thud coming from Harry's bed after Ron sat down on it.

"Ron, don't hit him!" Hermione sat on Mel's bed.

"Dear Merlin," She groaned, hiding under the covers. "I'm going to murder you two..."

"All right?" Ron asked.

"Never been better," said Harry, sounding a bit more awake. "You?"

"Not bad."

"I knew there was no way I'd have a quiet morning here," Erick grumbled. "Hi, 'Mione..."

"Hi!" She said brightly, then shook one of Mel's legs. "Wake up! I want to hear all you did during your mission!"

"When did you get here? Mum's only just told us!" Ron said.

"About one o'clock this morning," Harry replied, Mel turned around and squinted, trying to get used to the sunlight.

"Were the Muggles all right? Did they treat you okay?"

"Same as usual... they didn't talk to me much, but I like it better that way. How're you, Hermione?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

"What's the time? Have we missed breakfast?" Harry said.

"Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron.

"Well, he is," Mel replied, finally sitting up. "You should've seen my mum — almost forced the food down his throat once..."

Harry threw a pillow at her, but he missed by a considerable distance.

"So, what's been going on?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Nothing much, I've just been stuck at my aunt and uncle's, haven't I?"

"And we just had a road trip around some towns," Erick said, getting out of his covers only to sit down on Harry's bed.

"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!"

"It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted us to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn."

"Oh... We thought —" Hermione hushed him, Ron was quick to correct his mistake. "— we thought it'd be something like that."

"You did?" Harry grinned.

"Yeah... yeah, now Umbridge has left, obviously we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So, er, what's he like?"

"He looks a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin," Harry shrugged, then he glanced back at their friend and raised a brow. "Something wrong, Hermione?"

The girl gave a start, straightening in her place.

"No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?"

"Well, he's got a sharp mind no doubt," Erick yawned, laying on the mattress.

"He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?" added Harry, softly kicking Erick to move him away from his legs.

"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," Ginny walked in sulking. "Hi, guys."

"What's up with you?" Ron questioned.

"It's her, she's driving me mad."

"What's she done now?" asked Hermione.

"It's the way she talks to me — you'd think I was about three!"

"I know, she's so full of herself..."

"You better not be talking about my mum," Mel joked.

"Can't you two lay off her for five seconds?" Ron scoffed.

"Oh, that's right, defend her! We all know you can't get enough of her," Ginny rolled her eyes.

Harry and Mel shared a confused look, and just when he was about to ask the door opened again. The boy pulled up his covers so fast that Erick fell to the floor.

"Oh," Mel said quietly, staring up at Fleur Delacour.

"Children," she said brightly. "Eet 'as been too long!"

Mrs Weasley walked in right after her, looking upset.

"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"

"Eet was no trouble," Fleur left the tray floating between their beds and kissed her and Harry on both cheeks. Erick got up with a scowl, he shook Fleur's hand, not letting her touch him any further. "I 'ave been longing to see you. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."

"Oh... is she here too?" Harry asked.

"No, no, silly boy," Fleur laughed, "I mean next summer, when we — but do you not know?"

"We hadn't got around to telling him yet," Mrs Weasley said grumpily.

"Bill and I are going to be married!"

"Oh," said Harry, looking back at Mel begging her to help him. "Wow. Er — congratulations!"

"That's brilliant," Mel was unsure of how to react, none of the other women in the room looked happy.

"Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very 'ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he brought me 'ere for a few days to get to know 'is family properly. I was so pleased to 'ear you would be coming — zere isn't much to do 'ere, unless you like cooking and chickens! Well — enjoy your breakfast!"

She turned around and left the room with a joyous air, then Emily walked in, holding her son.

"Hi kids," She smiled.

Mel jumped out of bed and gave her mother a big hug. She took her baby brother and kissed him all over his small face. Mrs Weasley muttered something Mel could not hear, Ginny inched closer and started to play with Reggie's little fingers.

"Mum hates her," the girl told her, clearly talking about Fleur.

"I do not hate her! I just think they've hurried into this engagement, that's all!"

"Well, it's not like we all have time to spare, do we?" Emily asked carefully, brushing the hair away from Mel's forehead.

"They've known each other a year," said Ron crossly.

"Well, that's not very long! I know why it's happened, of course. It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center—"

"Including you and Dad," Ginny smirked.

"Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting? Whereas Bill and Fleur... well... what have they really got in common? He's a hard-working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's —"

"A cow," Ginny replied. "But Bill's not that down-to-earth. He's a Curse-Breaker, isn't he, he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour... I expect that's why he's gone for Phlegm."

"That's exactly what people used to say about me and Matthew," Emily raised a brow. "Now they tell me we were the perfect couple! You see, time's all it takes to change one's opinion, I think we shouldn't talk about relationships that aren't ours."

"I think she's lovely," Mel shrugged, softly kissing her brother's cheek. "You guys are being too harsh on her. I mean, Ginny, you're beautiful —"

"I'm sorry, Mel, I have a boyfriend," She joked.

"— But that doesn't mean you're silly, does it?" Mel sat down on her bed. "Have you forgotten how nice she was to Ron after he helped her sister?"

Mrs Weasley left looking rather tired, Emily kissed Mel, Harry and Erick on the cheek before leaving, leaving Leon Regulus in the room.

"Don't you get used to her if she's staying in the same house?" Harry chuckled, staring at the way Ron was struggling to breathe.

"Well, you do... but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then..."

"It's pathetic," said Hermione, without even asking she took Regulus out of Mel's hold, ignoring the girl's protests.

"I feel your pain, Ronnie, don't listen to them," Mel sighed, leaning back on the bed frame.

"You don't really want her around forever?" Ginny insisted. "Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can, I bet you anything."

"She shouldn't!" Mel replied. "What would you feel if you were deeply in love with someone and everyone tried to keep you away from them? You're own family!"

"How's she going to manage that, anyway?" asked Harry.

"She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family."

"Yeah, that'll work," Ron snorted. "Listen, no bloke in his right mind's going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean, Tonks is okay-looking when she isn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but —"

"She's a damn sight nicer than Phlegm,'' Ginny made a face of disgust.

"And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!" said Hermione, Reggie cried a bit and Ginny took it away from Hermione.

"Fleur's not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament," Harry argued.

"Not you as well!" Hermione scowled.

"I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ' 'Arry,' do you?" Ginny huffed.

"No," said Harry, blushing a bit, "I was just saying, Phlegm — I mean, Fleur —"

"Oh, please," Mel snorted. "You're just upset because Bill is your favourite brother, Ginny — you're scared he'll stop hanging out here once he marries Fleur. Hermione, I know you're lying, you're not angry because she isn't smart enough for your standards."

Hermione blushed a deep shade of red.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you don't," She grinned. "But you know she's not any of those things, I know you do. I mean, so what if she's confident, as long as she loves Bill like he deserves, right? Don't you want him to be happy?"

Ginny looked at Reggie for a long time, then she sighed heavily.

"I would like her to respect our way of handling the house, that's all..."

"That's understandable," Mel nodded. "But she's the one having to get used to the Weasleys, and if I may give my opinion, you guys are as peculiar as any French girl."

Ginny's face showed a small grin.

"In my opinion," Erick spoke casually, grabbing a toast from the tray. "Fleur's too ostentatious — but she knows how to use her charm, which means she's got a brain. Joseph told me she was a great conversationalist—"

"Can't you talk like a normal bloke?" Ron frowned. "Do you like her, yes or no?"

"I'm saying she's nice."

"Nice?" The redheaded boy asked in bewilderment.

"She's not my type," The older boy rolled his eyes.

"What's your type, then?" Ron demanded.

Erick threw a quick glance at Mel before replying.

"Friendly."

"Okay, maybe Mel's right," Ginny continued, Reggie started to get restless and she swayed him a bit from side to side. "But I still get along with Tonks better, at least she's a laugh..."

"Well, she can still come and hang out, but you can't force love."

"She hasn't been much of a laugh lately though," Ron pointed out. "Every time I've seen her she's looked more like Moaning Myrtle."

"That's not fair," Hermione frowned. "She still hasn't got over what happened... you know... I mean, he was her cousin!"

Harry quickly looked down and busied himself with a spoonful of eggs, Mel grabbed a cup of tea and drank half of it in one large sip.

"Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other! Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met —"

"That's not the point — She thinks it was her fault he died!"

"How does she work that one out?" Harry asked, his mouth half-full.

"Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn't have killed Sirius."

Mel tried to remember, there was a huge part of that night she couldn't recall.

"That's stupid," said Ron.

"It's survivor's guilt. I know Lupin's tried to talk her round, but she's still really down. She's actually having trouble with her Metamorphosing!"

"With her — ?"

"She can't change her appearance like she used to. I think her powers must have been affected by shock, or something."

"I didn't know that could happen," said Harry.

"Nor did I, but I suppose if you're really depressed..."

Mel suddenly looked down at her hands and gulped. She hadn't tried to do any kind of magic ever since she'd come back from the Ministry, now a new fear was rising above everything else, the possibility of not being able to be as good as before because of her anguish.

"Ginny," Mrs Weasley walked in again, "come downstairs and help me with the lunch."

"I'm talking to this lot!" Ginny exclaimed, her attention quickly leaving Mel's brother.

"Now!"

"She only wants me there so she doesn't have to be alone with Fleur! Emily's too tired all the time, mum doesn't let her do anything..." The girl got up to leave the room, but Mel stopped her.

"Hey, give that baby back!" She demanded. "I was holding him first!"

Ron stood up and took the baby, claiming no one ever allowed him to play with him. Ginny turned around swiftly, mocking the way Fleur would usually move, once she got to the door she looked over her shoulder one last time before leaving.

"You lot had better come down quickly too!"

Harry, Mel and Erick ate silently while Hermione examined some boxes, Ron was now playing with Reg.

"What's this?" Hermione held up a small telescope.

"Dunno, but if Fred and George've left it here, it's probably not ready for the joke shop yet, so be careful."

"Your mum said the shop's going well," Harry mentioned. "Said Fred and George have got a real flair for business."

"That's an understatement. They're raking in the Galleons! I can't wait to see the place, we haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, because Mum says Dad's got to be there for extra security and he's been really busy at work, but it sounds excellent."

"And what about Percy? Is he talking to your mum and dad again?"

"Nope."

"What a git," Erick muttered, drinking his tea while watching Hermione examine the telescope.

"But he knows your dad was right all along now about Voldemort being back —"

"Dumbledore says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right," said Hermione. "I heard him telling your mum, Ron."

"Sounds like the sort of mental thing Dumbledore would say," said Ron.

Mel didn't try to contradict him this time.

"He's going to be giving me private lessons this year," Harry said casually. "Mel already finished hers and he'll have time to teach me."

Hermione gasped, Erick merely looked up from his food.

"You kept that quiet!" Ron exclaimed, Mel's brother slipping from his hold without him noticing.

"I only just remembered. He told me last night in your broom shed."

"Blimey... private lessons with Dumbledore! And he said you're ready to go, Mel? I wonder why he's—?"

"Careful with Lee before you drop him flat on the floor!" Mel scowled. "I see why no one lets you hold him..."

"I don't know exactly why he's going to be giving me lessons, but I think it must be because of the prophecy," Harry continued to speak, eyes fixed on his food. "You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry..."

Erick pulled out his wand and with a quick movement, his plate started to follow him around the room. He took Leon Regulus and mumbled something about the baby needing a nap and Ginny needing help back in the kitchen. Mel wished she could've left with him.

"Nobody knows what it said, though," said Hermione once the Slytherin was gone. "Mel broke it."

"Although the Prophet says —" Ron started.

"Shh!" Hermione interrupted.

"The Prophet's got it right," Harry forced himself to look up. "That glass ball Mel destroyed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said... it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort... At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

She wished she could've spent at least one day without thinking about the prophecy, but Harry had to live knowing that he'd have to face Voldemort, so she couldn't complain.

BANG!

Hermione vanished behind a cloud of dark smoke.

"Hermione!" shouted the three of them.

The girl stood up, coughing.

"I squeezed it and it — it punched me!"

"Don't worry," said Ron biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh, "Mum'll fix that, she's good at healing minor injuries —"

"Oh well, never mind that now!" said Hermione, pushing it aside. "Harry, oh, Harry... We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry... Obviously, we didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this... Oh, Harry... Are you scared?"

"Not as much as I was," Harry shrugged. "When I first heard it, I was... but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end..."

"When we heard Dumbledore was collecting you in person, we thought he might be telling you something or showing you something to do with the prophecy. And we were kind of right, weren't we? He wouldn't be giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn't waste his time — he must think you've got a chance!"

"Of course he does!" Mel got up, starting to pick up the pieces of the tray that had smashed when the boys ran to help Hermione. "Harry's a great wizard, we just need to teach him how to fight..."

Her friends looked at her with pity, they must've been thinking of her lifeline connection with Harry and how it could affect her, but Mel couldn't look afraid or else they wouldn't believe her words.

"Guys, we'll get through this..." Mel looked down a the tiny scars on her palm, rubbing them gently.

"That's true," said Hermione. "I wonder what he'll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably... powerful countercurses... anti-jinxes... probably the same things he taught to Mel. And evasive enchantments generally— Well, at least you know one lesson you'll be having this year, that's one more than Ron and me. I wonder when our O.W.L. results will come?"

"Can't be long now, it's been a month," said Ron.

"Hang on, I think Dumbledore said our O.W.L. results would be arriving today!"

"Yeah, that's true!" Mel admitted, leaving the broken plates on the desk.

"Today? Today? But why didn't you — oh my God — you should have said —" Hermione squeaked. "I'm going to see whether any owls have come..."

Ron and Hermione left the room quickly, Harry and her were left alone, but this felt a thousand times less awkward than a year before.

"Thank you," Harry said, helping her fold the blankets.

"I didn't do anything. You know they're scared, even if they don't show it..."

"I'm thanking you because it must be hard for you as well, not to show it," He tilted his head. "Usually, you're an open book..."

"I used to be," She corrected. "My feelings are just mine, Harry, and no one else needs to know about them."

He frowned.

"Still, you know it's better not to hold things in, right?"

Mel stared at him.

"Look at you, teaching me about how to handle my emotions!"

The boy let out a chuckle and reached to hold her hand.

"It's going to be okay, Mellow."

She melted at the name, it'd been a long time since he'd called her that. She looked down again at her scarred hand, and that stirred her into talking. An idea started to take form in her mind.

"What if there's a chance you don't have to be the only chosen one?"

Harry blinked.

"What?"

"What if I am your backup?"

"H-How would that even..?"

"Think about it," Mel started. "I was there when he tried to kill you, and that's when our connection was created — it grows stronger when you inch closer to death... What if the reason we can feel each other's pain, is because it warns us about the incoming danger? What if the reason we're connected it's because I'm destined to take your place if you die?"

"But — but the prophecy said it was a boy —"

"Prophecies can change, you're not obliged to copy them exactly as they're told! Even Dumbledore thought I could be the child of the prophecy! What if, in a way, we both are?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Mel. I chose to be —"

"Who says I can't choose to help you?" She lifted her right hand. "I marked myself with the prophecy, see? If we do this together we'll have a real advantage. We even promised it back in the ministry, didn't we? If you die I take your place, if I die —"

"I make sure is not in vain," Harry had finally made up his mind. "D'you think Dumbledore knows? Do you think that's why he wants us to decide for ourselves what we'll do with our lifeline?"

"I have no idea," Mel responded sincerely. "But if we're doing this, we need to set the rules now."

Harry thought about it, then he grabbed her hands and squeezed them lightly.

"Let's talk."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[euphoricsunflowers]

Im glad you like your coworkers! Nice coworkers can make stressful jobs bearable so I always appreciate cool people where I work. I'm good! I just turned 27 and all my friends visited me for a weekend to celebrate. I'm feeling very emotionally healed. 😊 Also darn this app for stifling your gifs cause they're BEAUTIFUL. Can I get more thoughts on the Gambler music video from you? Cause my emotions about Minhyuk's fits and Changkyun's hair are OVERFLOWING. - Bias Wrecked

ahh yes!! this is gonna take a while to type out which is why i’ve taken so long to even get to answering it, so i apologize!! but!! for lack of a better transition, let’s begin!!

first i just wanna talk about that first minhyuk verse, how he says ‘i like that’ and smirks yeah i fuck with that that was so hot 😩😩 not to mention how he straight up kills or at least knocks out some dude and drags his body into another room. the way he was buttoning up his shirt with that little smirk again? hot

hyungwon in general was just so beautiful in this mv??? like not even in just the mv also i’m the photoshoot?? he looked so pretty in version 2 of the album i was ready to get on one knee while imagining him on both of his 💔💔💔 i also love how jooheon had a literal hostage and minhyuk could have literally killed a man but hyungwon was just straight up drinking and vibing and i love that for him.

i also love how kihyun’s outfit shows off just like a little bit of his abdomen, not enough for it to be a whoreish as id like but it’s just enough to be perfectly kihyun and i wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable in an outfit just so i could find it sexy. when kihyun does the move that goes along with when he says ‘bluffing’ i lose my shit idk why but i love it so much 😭

ngl shownu??? handcuffed to the briefcase??? being patted down and searched for like a brief second?? both of those scenes were so hot ajsjdhsh i think we’re kinda lucky shownu isn’t a part of gambler promotions because he absolutely would have committed several homicides with his looks on stage

changkyun in that red outfit with his hair pulled back had a little piece of my soul i’ll admit 😔✋ but to be fair he was so pretty the entire music video idk how he does it but he just silently steals my heart every time.

and, best for last obviously, the kihyuk fight. the way minhyuk grabbed kihyun’s suit jacket collar but then the way kihyun pushed him away and they were both just yelling at each other??? that shit was so hot oh my god so so sexy, i wish i could watch those scenes forever, the way they both got up at and looked at each other with like complete murder in their eyes, the way someone tried to hold kihyun back and the way you can see hyungwon standing there watching like 🧍‍♀️

i tried to keep away from indulging my inner music nerd and doing a full song review of gambler’s musicality and meaning of it lyrically (go watch the mv again it has subtitles and holy shit i promise of any ounce of you is dominant you’ll adore it and even if you’re a complete baby bitch bottom (mean that with love <3) i promise you’ll still love them. it’s just them being like ‘i’m caught in your trap, i fall into your smile, i’m obsessed with your tricks, you stole my heart’ kinda vibes and my sadistic ass heart loves it) but if you want me to do that just let me know bc even thought it might take me a literal century to do it, i’m so down to talk about why this song is so musically perfect and dive deep into the lyrics

[writedisaster]

lately it seems like i only make personal posts when i have something to bitch about so uh.  here is a list of neat things that have happened for me lately!

last weekend on my bike ride i rode past a couple of newlyweds taking pictures!  i rang my bike bell for them and the wedding party shouted back.  one of the groomsmen made an absolutely ridiculous noise, too - i’ve never heard anyone ululate irl before but that is like 100% what this dude was doing

also found a cute little craft store not that far down the bike path, got some surprise tools that will help me later.  definitely wanna go back there

on the way home it rained just a little bit - not enough to make the rest of the ride uncomfortable, but enough to count as rain.  which i’ve always heard is a good omen on a wedding day

THEN i got to see my gf!  in person!!!

she’s so lovely wtf

we went to a garage sale together and she bought me a little teacup with pigeons on it... i’m so obsessed with drinking out of this teacup, it really adds so much joy to the whole beverage process

(right now i’m drinking vanilla rooibos tea out of my little teacup.  really makes me feel just, like, obnoxiously contented)

i got that job i really wanted!  very scared and nervous about it, especially bc apparently they’re not giving me any time off in between my current (exhausting) job and starting the new one 🙃 i’m literally starting this wednesday 🙃 but uh.  still an exciting step forward.

made a VERY good pasta sauce for dinner tonight.  honestly one of the best pasta sauces i have ever had, and that’s including the ones made by professionals

took two bike rides today!  first one was out to work to wrap some things up at my soon-to-be-ex-job (and listen, i’m not here to romanticize coming in to work on your days off... but if i’m doing it, i might as well find something to enjoy about it) and that’s a ride i’ve taken before, but on the way back i tried a different route!  there’s a bike / walking trail bridge over the train tracks that google maps doesn’t know about yet >:) and it led to trails through some really cool natural areas before rejoining with the main path i’ve taken before

the other bike ride was a much shorter trip along a familiar path, but that one was at twilight.  the air was so goddamn pleasant

i have an idea for like.  an actual short story i might actually write.  we’ll see how that goes but it’s exciting

tomorrow is a used book sale at the library a town over!  so i’m gonna be taking another bike ride out to get me some cheap-ass books yeehaw

my cat <3

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Okay, I reaallly hope you don't mind me in your inbox again but, 1. Pleeease if you ever feel so inclined, do that Kiryu essay I love him so goddamn much, I would have a stroke just to read how much someone else loves Kiryu like I do, bc just that little bit of Tachibana about Kiryu killed me. And 2. Tell me about the ot3! Tell me about that room full of loving Kiryu! What are your headcanons, opinions! I read your fic, died again, and that is literally the only thing of them on ao3 ohhh my gosh

Oh, you are so so sweet, love. I appreciate <3 Sorry it’s taken me so long to respond, my schedule is a bit of a nightmare and work really wiped me out today. (Honestly contemplating quitting my second job, at least until the semester’s over. Can’t take my weekends being taken from me like this.)

But, here we go (sorry this will be a little lackluster and short compared to yesterday, blame the work exhaustion): 

1) The full Kiryu essay will take some doing. I may need to chop it into parts. Like, I’ve started it, and it’s already monstrous and I have just barely gotten TO the beginning of Zero. Because, you see, Kiryu’s a good person. And y’all may be going “Yeah, we know Lemon, so what?” and, no, no, I need you to think about it though. I know it’s very in vogue to hate on vanilla good guy characters here on tumblr, but I’m frankly sick of it personally. Being good is NOT a default, as so many would like to believe, it is a conscious choice that takes effort and sacrifice. 

Kiryu has lost... so fucking much. He’s lost every member of his family. He’s lost most of his mentors and friends. And Kiryu still gets up every morning, puts his goddamn clothes on, and is a nice person. He makes the choice, every goddamn day, to be nice to every new person he meets. Sure, he can be grumpy and standoffish, but if you ask him for something? He comes through, no matter who you are. You need help? He will get you some fucking help. The boy doesn’t know what to do with himself if he’s not helping others. No, seriously, think back on all of his choices, think back on his trajectory. Kiryu’s really treading water in 2 because he’s untethered, he has no family (other than Haruka) so he has no social role. He rejected being chairman (and BOY we do not have time for my thoughts on THAT) so he’s just kind of... stuck. He’s honestly kind of depressed and floundering, that’s why he makes that damn stupidass call at the end of 2, fuck, that’s why he gets stabbed, out in the open, at the edge of the Sotenbori River, in the city where you get your dead bodies kidnapped! (Okay that’s just a joke between me and my wife but look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong). 

Anyway, anyway, my point is... Kiryu’s entire self-worth is derived from what he can do for others. He doesn’t actually have a stable concept of self outside of service. That’s why his decisions get progressively worse and worse over the games as he loses, one way or another, all his personal ties. His relationships give him an anchor and his service to those relationships make him feel good about himself, make him feel worthy. What would losing every meaningful person in his life do to him I wonder? What would the guilt of all that loss do to him? 

I don’t have time to go into it all right now, but just... not to vague blog, but I’ve seen some opinions recently that Really ticked me off and I’ve Very Badly needed to talk about Kiryu’s role as the protagonist of this series, what his arc is and what he brings to the table. He is not some basic, unmotivated, archetypal stand in. Just because he doesn’t wear his grief on his sleeve or have as many visible trauma responses doesn’t mean they’re not there. Sorry to get a little bitchy about it, I just... 

You know why Majima’s in love with him? Blind, imprinted, soul deep love? Because Kiryu is a good fucking person. Because Kiryu has been through Some Shit and gets up the next day and does it again. Because he’s strong enough to do that. He’s strong enough to get up and try again. He’s strong enough to be nice out in the fucking open where his heart can get torn up all over again. If you’re Majima, you can’t conceive of being nice without dying, without the world swarming all over you and killing you. And the world FUCKING TRIES with Kiryu, he’s not still standing because no one fucking came at him. He lost his brother, his father, his sister in one night. He’s lost friend after friend, he’s felt responsible for death after death, just as surely as Majima does, and he gets up. Again.  And tries. Again. And is still nice, still kind, will lend a hand to anyone, and he dares the world to fucking come at him, one more time. 

Now you tell me that’s worthless. 

(Part 2 to be answered in a different ask, you’re not the only one interested ;) )

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//Repeating History

Request: So you know the flashback episode about the adults of riverdale? I wanted to do some history with Reggie’s dad and the readers mom. Like back in the day they had a serious relationship but the readers mom dumped Marty bc she had to move away WELL FAST FOWARD TO THE FUTURE!! The readers mom moves back to riverdale, only this time she has a kid & she’s a single mother. So to make a long story short. The reader and Reggie meet and hit it off instantly. Pretty much repeating history. And can I get a lot of drama?? Like between the mantle family and the readers family. Also can Reggie and the readers relationship be really hot? And I wouldn’t mind smut at all! I know this seems like a lot and I’m so sorry lol I’ll understand if you don’t want to write it Thank you sm!! 💗💗 @sparklevag

Warning: Smut. Abuse (not a lot, just a mention) 

“20 years and it hasn’t changed a bit.” Your mom smiled as she got out the car. 

“Here we go.” You mumbled and got out the other side. 

Since you can remember, your mom had told you stories of her childhood spent in Riverdale. How all the neighbour kids used to play together, they’d spend summers together while their parents hosted barbecues and parties, a different house each weekend. Everybody knew everyone and it was the best place to live. But a couple years before you were born, her parents moved last minute meaning she had to say goodbye to Riverdale and everything that was in it. 

Now your mom had been given the chance to move due to her job and luckily she was able to move back. She’s been excited since she found out, saying that you were going to experience all the things she got to, even if it was a little later in your life. 17 to be exact, but it still counted. 

“Even the house hasn’t changed.” She beamed excitedly and ran up the front steps. “The decor has though.” She called behind her once she opened the door. “And its awful.” She added making you laugh. 

“It is.” You agreed, once you’d stepped inside. 

“Come on. I’ll show you my old room.” She grabbed your hand, practically pulling you up the stairs. “What did they to it? That wallpaper with those curtains? Its hideous.” She complained. “Awwww, they kept my height chart on the doorframe. Thats cute.” 

“Maybe they just couldn’t see it. You haven’t grown much from about 11.” 

“I was a very tall 11 year old.” She defended and you laughed. “The things I got up to in this room.” She said. “If walls could talk.” She winked and you groaned. 

“Jesus Christ mom. You’re disgusting.” You complained and started to walk away. “Where you going?” She called after you. 

“To find my room.” 

“Have this one!” 

“No thanks.” 

“Its fine. Its not like you’ll have the same bed or dresser or” 

“Ew!” 

“Pleaseeee.” She ran after you. “When I was little I always dreamed of my little girl growing up in my room. That I’d pass it down to her.” 

“Thats weird. And you can’t guilt trip me.” 

“Is it working?” 

“...no.” 

“Yes it is. Now you can have it whatever colour you want and you’ll be getting all new furniture. So all traces of me and my rendezvous will be erased. For you at least.” She mumbled the last part and you fake gagged. 

“Fine.” You agreed. “I’ll have your old room.” 

“Aww.” She hugged you tightly and you rolled your eyes. “You’re gonna love it here. I promise!” 

“How you feeling?” She asked. 

“Alright.” You shrugged and grabbed the toast that was on her plate.

“Hey!” She said annoyed and you smiled sweetly at her. “Its a good job I had more in the toaster.” She grumbled and you laughed. 

“I need to keep my strength up. It is the first day of school after all.” 

“I know. And it’s gonna be great! I enjoyed every single day of high school until I moved.” 

“We live in very different times now mom.” 

“They’re not that different.” She argued. “Anyway, you need to leave now if you want to make it in time. And don’t forget you need to check in with the office to get the stuff you need!” She was practically pushing you out the door at this point. “I love you, be safe and I’ll make your favourite for dinner tonight.” She kissed your head and you hugged her. 

“Bye. I love you.” You replied.

“You’re gonna love it!” 

------------

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes you’d been wandering around the same three corridors trying to find your class and all of them looked the damn same.

“Excuse me?” You tapped a red-headed boy on the shoulder. He stopped his conversation and turned around, looking at you confused. “Hi, I’m new. Can you tell me where Mrs Thompsons class is?” You asked and he smiled kindly at you.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, it’s down the corridor and to the left.” He told you and you thanked him. You started to walk towards the class when you heard someone shouting behind you. 

“Wait!” A boy called after you and you turned around quickly. “I have that class now, I’ll walk you.” 

“Oh, thanks.” You nodded and he smiled at you. It was as if everything you’d seen in movies was true. Time stopped, your heart-rate picked up, you could almost certainly hear wedding bells. All from a small smile. 

“Reggie Mantle.” He introduced himself. “And you must be an angel.” He winked and your cheeks reddened. 

“Y/n. Y/n y/l/n, and you must be how old?” 

“17. Why?” 

“Because that pick up line has been around since the middle ages.” 

“I make it work.” 

“You kinda do yeah.” You agreed and he smirked. 

“Sooooo. I heard you tell Archie you were new.” 

“Yep. I moved last week.” You nodded. 

“Where from?” 

“San Francisco.” You replied. 

“Thats so cool. I’ve always wanted to visit.” 

“Its great!” 

“Why’d you move?” 

“My mom. She got a job here. But she used to live here until she was about our age. She was really excited to come back.” You said and he smiled softly at you. 

“Thats sweet. What’s your moms name?” 

“You ask an awful lot of questions.” You commented. 

“When I meet a pretty girl I want to know everything I can about her.” He winked and you laughed loudly. 

“Wow. You’re really big on the pick up lines.” 

“Oh, this is just the beginning.” He replied before walking into class. You followed behind him, a soft smile on your face at the thought of talking to him again. “Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to sit down.” He nodded towards the empty seat beside him. 

“Sure?” You replied hesitantly and he pulled the chair out for you. “Thanks.” You smiled at him and sat down. 

“Anything for that smile.” 

“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you.” 

“I try.” 

“I can tell.” 

“So, have you ever been here before?” He asked. 

“To Riverdale High?” You teased. 

“Yeah, no. I mean Riverdale in general.” 

“No. This is the first time my mom’s been back for like twenty years. She always wanted to come back but never had an excuse.” 

“I’m glad she found the excuse.” He said softly and you smiled at him.

“Me too.” You replied, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Mr Mantle. Please stop flirting with our newest student.” Mrs Thompson interrupted your conversation and both of you looked to the front of the class. 

“Yeah Mantle, keep it in your pants for more than five minutes of knowing a girl.” A boy shouted and Reggie started to blush. You kinda felt bad for him, but he did look cute. 

“He’s known me for ten minutes actually. Why don’t you mind your own business.” You retorted and they closed their mouth. You looked back at Reggie who was staring at you shocked, giving him a wink before looking at the front again. 

----------

“How was your first day?” Your mom practically jumped on you when she got home. 

“Good.” You said. “How was yours?” 

“Good!” She replied, a bright smile appearing on her face. “I went to school with a few people that work there so it was nice to catch up. You were talked about a lot.” 

“I should be the only thing you talk about.” 

“You are to be honest.” She agreed and you both laughed softly. “Now, I’m gonna go get started on dinner.” 

“Already taken care of. Its on the table.” 

“You are just the best daughter.” She squashed your cheeks and you rolled your eyes. 

“I know.” You replied. 

“Did you make any friends.” She asked once you’d sat down. 

“A few.” You nodded. “I met a boy called Reggie.” 

“Ooooooo. Reggie. He sounds nice.” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. 

“He’s my friend. I only met him today.” 

“Sooooo. It only takes a day.” She replied and you shook your head. “What was his last name? I might know his parents.”

“Mantle.” You replied and she choked on her drink. “Are you okay?” You rushed to her side.

“Fine.” She coughed. 

“Do you know his parents.” 

“You could say that yeah.” She replied and you looked at her curiously. 

“Spill.” You sat beside her and it was her turn to roll her eyes. 

“Lets just say, Mantle men are very easy to fall in love with.” 

“You were in love with a Mantle? Who? When?” 

“Marty Mantle.” She said and you looked at her confused. “Reggie’s dad. I’m assuming.” 

“Reggie’s dad! You dated Reggie’s dad.” 

“Yes, and don’t give me that look. We were in love.” She told you. “The day we met was my first day at Riverdale High. He was a year above me and I’d just started. I’d been walking around for fifteen minutes trying to find my class and then there he was was, talking to his friends, looking hot and whatever else the kids are describing people as these days.” 

“You’re so old.” 

“You’ll be this age one day.” She warned. “Anyway, he saw me looking lost and asked if I was okay and he smiled at me and I swear to God I imagined the wedding right there and then. I told him who I was looking for and he took me to the class and told me that I’d get the hang out it eventually. After that every time we saw each other he would smile or wave at me and then eventually he asked me out. We went to Pop’s, three dates later he asked me to be his girlfriend and we dated until I moved away a year and a half later.” 

“Thats so sad.” 

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I was heartbroken. So was he. When I told him I couldn’t stop crying and he said he would do anything to get me to stay. He even went to talk to my parents about me moving in with him so we could stay together, but it was no use. There mind was made up and we had no choice. He snuck into my bedroom window the night before I was supposed to leave and gave me a necklace to remember him by. It was a buttercup.” She sniffled a little bit, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“Why a buttercup?” You asked while hugging her. 

“That was his nickname for me.” 

“Awwww.” 

“I haven’t worn it for years. To be honest I stopped wearing it when I met your dad. I thought it was a bit weird to wear something another man gave to me when I was dating someone else.” 

“Why don’t you start wearing it again? Dad left years ago, and your back in Riverdale. I think now is the best time to start wearing it again.” You suggested and she smiled softly at you. 

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Maybe.” She hugged you. “You’re the best daughter a mother could ask for.” 

“I know.” You replied with a bright smile making her laugh. 

--------

“Reggie!” You shouted down the corridor. “Reggie!” You shouted again after getting no response. This time he turned around and smiled at the sight of you. 

“Hey sunshine” He smiled brightly at you. 

“Sunshine?” You asked. 

“You’re wearing yellow. It reminded me of the sun.” 

“Oh.” You smiled, looking at the floor shyly. 

“So, whats up? Are you lost again?” 

“No. Not yet anyway.” You replied and he laughed softly. “I need to tell you something.” 

“Oooo. What?” 

“I was telling my mom about you last night...” 

“Awwwww. Thats so sweet.” He teased making you roll your eyes at him.

“Not like that.”

“Damn.” He sighed and you shoved him slightly. 

“I was telling my mom about you and she asked me your last name because she wanted to know if she knew your parents. So I told her and it turns out my mom and your dad dated, they were like in love and everything.” 

“Our parents are doing it? Thats gross, old people don’t have sex.” 

“No, dumbass. Our parents were doing it. When they were our age.” 

“Oh.” He thought for a moment. “Thats still gross...I bet your mom was hot though.” 

“Ewwwww.” 

“Why’d they break up?” He asked. 

“She had to move. Apparently he tried to convince her parents to let her live with him so they didn’t have to be apart. He bought her a necklace with a buttercup so she could always remember him.” 

“Why a buttercup.” 

“It was his nickname for her.” 

“Thats kinda cute.” 

“Its really cute.” You replied. “Look, I even found this picture of them at Pop’s. I assume that’s your dad.” You handed him a small picture and he smiled. 

“Yeah, thats my dad.” He nodded. “I was right though. Your mom was hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Well...this is gonna make the next part really awkward.”

“What next part?” You asked. 

“I was gonna ask you on a date at Pop’s.” He said nervously whilst playing with his fingers. 

“Yeah.” You agreed. 

“What?” 

“Well. They dated a long time ago, and its not like we’re related or anything.” 

“Its not that. I just thought you’d say no.” 

“That would make me the dumbass.” You teased. “Friday. I’ll meet you at Pop’s at 7.” You told him and turned around. 

“You don’t know where you’re going do you?”

“In general or Pop’s?” 

“Both?” He guessed.

“Yeah.” You nodded and you could hear him laugh. Every time he laughed it seemed to make you happier than the last. You would be happy listening to only that for the rest of your life, especially if you were the cause of it. 

“I’ll take you to your next class, and I’ll pick you up on Friday. Just text me your address.” 

-------

“Y/n!” Your mom shouted up the stairs. 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s someone at the door.” 

“That’ll be Reggie. Let him in and tell him I’ll be down soon.” 

“The Reggie Mantle.” She teased. “Are you going on a date?” 

“Maybe.” You replied. 

“Awwwwwww.” 

“Let him in please.” 

“Of course.” She replied. “Are you nervous?” 

“A little.” You admitted. You were more than a little if you were being honest. You were a lot nervous. The butterflies in your stomach had been there since you’d agreed to go on the date, only getting stronger as the week went on. And then every time you so much as looked in the general direction of him they got even stronger. You had definitely fallen for him and you’d only met him on Monday.  

You smoothed out your dress and checked your hair over one more time. You could hear voices downstairs and your mom laughing at something he’d said making you smile to yourself. 

“Hey sunshine.” Reggie greeted you once you met him downstairs. 

“Hey.” You replied and tried to fight off a blush. 

“Sunshine?” Your mom mouthed and you shook your head at her. “Its cute.” 

“What is?” Reggie asked. 

“Don’t.” You sighed. 

“That you called her sunshine.” 

“She was wearing yellow when I saw her on Tusday, it reminded me of the sun.” He explained and she practically squealed. 

“Thats exactly what your dad said. After he’d shown me to my class he said he liked the yellow t-shirt I was wearing, that it reminded him of buttercups.” 

“Does my dad know you’re back?” Reggie asked. 

“I dunno. I haven’t told him, so probably not.” 

“I’m sure he’d love to see you again. To catch up.” He suggested.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Maybe.” She was silent for a few seconds, like she was lost in her thoughts and you looked at her worried. 

“Mom?” You shook her softly. 

“Yes? Sorry! You kids have fun.” She walked you to the door. “Not too much fun though. I don’t want grandkids...yet.” 

“Mom!” You complained and she laughed. 

“Bye sweetheart.” She hugged you. “He’s a keeper.” 

“We haven’t even had our first date yet.” 

“Yeah, but when you know, you know.” 

-------

“So, there I was. Naked and running around the school.” He was in the middle of a very detailed story of how he accidentally streaked. 

“I can’t believe they stole your clothes.” You laughed. 

“To be fair, I did put hair removal cream in the shampoo. Half the team had bald spots for the big game on the Friday. The Vixens even managed to put it in one of their chants. It was really funny, somebody sent me a video.” He continued, by this point tears were streaming down your face. “Do you wanna see?” He asked and you nodded quickly. 

“Of course.” You replied. 

“Come here.” He patted the empty space beside him. You slid out your side of the booth and sat next to him, leaning into him slightly as he showed you the video. 

After you’d watched it and you’d laughed for about ten minutes, you started to get out of the booth. 

“You can stay...if you want.” He grabbed your hand softly and you looked at your intertwined fingers. 

“Yeah. That’s be nice.” You settled back into his side and stole a few of his fries. His arm went around your shoulders slowly, as if he was scared sudden movement would frighten you off. 

--------

“Thank you for walking me back home.” 

“No problem.” He replied as you stood on the porch. 

“I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too.” He replied. “This may be a bit too soon, but you saw what happened to our parents and I know we wouldn’t have been born if they didn’t break up. But life’s short and you’re hot. So will you be my girlfriend? And you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want t-” 

“Yes.” You agreed, surprising not only Reggie but yourself. However it felt right. You walked down a few of the steps, stopping on the step above his and leaned in to kiss him. He closed the gap and kissed you softly, taking your breath away. However cliche that was, thats what you felt, and right now, you didn’t really care. You had a feeling this is what it would feel like every time you kissed him. 

“Wow.” He said breathily. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Wow.” You added before kissing him again, this time it was a bit rougher, a bit more needy, but it was great either way. 

“See you around sunshine.” He kissed your cheek and you blushed hard. 

“See you.” You replied as calmly as you could. You watched him walk down the porch and onto the street before you went into the house. Your mom was waiting by the door and as soon as you walked through the door the two of you squealed. 

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” 

“Mom.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just like me when I was young. Thats literally how mine and Marty’s date ended. I just hope your story ends happier than ours did.” She mumbled sadly. 

“Hopefully.” You forced a smile. “But if you hadn’t broke up you wouldn’t have me.” You tried to lighten her mood. 

“True.” She agreed and hugged you tightly. “Anyway, that was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Are you going on another date?” 

“He’s my boyfriend actually.” 

“Wow, kids move fast these days.” 

“Its not like we slept together or anything.” You rolled your eyes. “Not that I wouldn’t be opposed.” You thought.

“I suppose I slept with Marty at the end of the first date. Backseat of his car behind Pop’s.” 

“And on that note, I’m going to bed.” 

------

“Has it really been five months?” Reggie asked in disbelief. You were hanging out at his house today. Your mom was busy working from home so you decided to hang out at Reggie’s to give her some peace. 

“To the date.” You replied. 

“Wow, five months ago your mom told you she’s slept with my dad in the back of his car.” 

“Don’t remind me.” You groaned. 

“What’s she doing here?” Reggie’s dad interrupted your conversation making you sit up properly on the couch. 

“Dad. It’s Y/n. I’ve told you about her.” Reggie stood up. 

“She can’t be here.” 

“Why not?” He asked. 

“Yeah, why the hell not.” You repeated his question, now also standing, an annoyed look on your face. 

“Because its my house and I said so. Now leave.” He replied sternly. You looked between him and your boyfriend, Reggie giving you an apologetic look while you gathered your things. 

“I’ll see you around Y/n.” He called after you. 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 

-------

“Why are you back so early?” Your mom asked. She was sat at the dining-room table when you walked in sulking. 

“His dad kicked me out.” You replied, dumping your bag and coat at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Why?!” She asked, the work in front of her completely abandoned. 

“I dunno. He saw me and flipped. Started shouting and then told me to get out.” 

“Sweethear-” She started to walk towards you but you interrupted her. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. Night mom. Love you.” 

You’d been in bed for about half an hour. You’d text Reggie a few times asking if everything was okay but you were yet to receive a reply. You were about to just give up and have an early night when you heard something moving outside your window.

“Y/n.” Someone whisper shouted from outside. You cautiously made your way to the window and peeked through the curtains. 

“Reggie?” You asked, opening the window. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see you.”

“You could have come in through the door you know?” You said as you helped him climb through the window. 

“I didn’t know if your mom had gone crazy too or if it was just my dad.” He replied. 

“I thinks its just your dad.” You sat on your bed. “My mom seemed more annoyed at your dad.” 

“Good.” He sat beside you. “He said I couldn’t see you anymore.” 

“Why not!?” You asked offended. 

“Because of what your mom did. He said that it probably runs in the family and that if you’re mother did that to him, you’d probably it to me.” 

“Well thats bull. It wasn’t my mom’s fault they broke up. She was made to move.” 

“Thats what I said.” He replied. 

“What did he say?” 

“He did this.” He pointed to the bruise blossoming on his right eye. You ghosted your fingers over it and he flinched. 

“Your dad did that to you because of me?” 

“Yep.” He nodded. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Its fine. Its not your fault.” He replied. “Plus its not the first time he’s done this.” 

“Reggie that’s awful.” You cupped his cheek. “Maybe my mom had a lucky escape. Sorry.” You apologized when you noticed the look on his face.

“Its fine. You’re probably right.” He said sadly. 

“If you ignore how you got it, it kinda looks hot.” 

“You think I look hot with a black eye?” He asked, an amused smirk replacing the sad smile. 

“Kinda yeah.” You nodded. 

“How hot?” He asked, kissing your neck. 

“Very.” You replied, leaning into his touch. He continued kissing up and down your neck, making you moan softly. 

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.” You nodded your head quickly. He wasted no time taking your pajama top and bottoms off. You helped him our of his jeans and shirt, leaving you both in your underwear. 

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, looking at you lying underneath him. “So, so pretty.” He continued, kissing your chest. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.” He took a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on it making your back arch. The hand that wasn’t keeping him up moved to your other boob and he squeezed it before playing with your nipple. Your moans spurred him on as he continued his assault on your chest. 

He pulled away quickly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving down your body, stopping just before you panties. Slowly he slid your underwear off, throwing it behind his back before focusing his attention on your core. He trailed kissed up and down each thigh, before diving right in. With no warning his lips were on you, sucking and nibbling your clit. You moaned loudly and he looked up at you, a smirk taking over his face. 

“You have to be quiet.” He warned. 

“Okay.” You nodded breathlessly. His hands pinned your waist to the mattress as sucked and licked harder. “Reggie.” You moaned and he could have cum just from that alone. “I need you.” You practically begged. There was no way he was gonna argue with that. Within seconds his boxers were off and he was hovering over you, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“You ready baby?” He asked one more time. 

“Definitely.” You nodded quickly and he pushed himself inside you. Both of you moaned loudly, before looking at each other and laughing. 

“Shhhh.” You said at the same time. 

“Move.” You told him. 

“Gladly.” He winked and you rolled your eyes. His thrusts were hard and slow at first, both of you enjoying the feel of each other. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer to you and changing the position making you both moan even louder. Your nails scratched down his neck and he groaned, which was possibly the hottest thing you’d ever heard. 

“Faster.” You whined. The familiar feeling was getting stronger.

His thrusts got harder and faster as he chased his orgasm, a hand moved to your clit and he rubbed quickly. Your thighs shook and you saw stars as you came. A string of curse words, as well as his name left your mouth and he followed quickly after. Releasing himself inside of you. 

His movements stilled after you’d caught your breath and he lay beside you, placing an arm underneath your head and you cuddled into him. You lay like this for a while before he sat up suddenly. 

“I was supposed to give you this when you were at mine but well, you know.” He reached over the bed and grabbed his jacket, pulling a small box out the pocket. 

“You don’t have to buy me anything.” 

“I know. But I saw it and it reminded me of you.” He replied and handed you it. “Open it.” He told you and you smiled brightly at him before opening it. Inside was a small sun hanging on a delicate chain. 

“Reggie.” You started to tear up. 

“You don’t like it do you?” He panicked. “I can get another one. You can choose.” 

“No. I love it.” You shook your head. 

“Why are you crying then? Have I missed something?” He asked confused and pulled you into a hug. 

“Its so thoughtful. One of the most thoughtful presents anybody has ever given me, I love it. But are we gonna turn into our parents?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “That necklace is where history stops repeating itself.” 

[lovequinn]

So I’ve always been curious and wasn’t to sure if you’ve answered this before but, what exactly is it about mg that made you fall in love with it in the first place and what makes you keep coming back (even though I know that right now your in a bit of a funk with that show)

i think i’ve answered this before pretty quickly/succinctly but i’m not sure if i’ve ever gone in-depth, so i can do that now when i have the time to kill! this may be the longest answer to an ask that i’ve ever written so read at your own risk!

i initially bought tickets when i heard taylor (louderman) was cast, since i had been dying to see taylor live in something since 2012. i bought those tickets in fall 2017 when they went on sale, for june 2nd 2018, about a month after i would get home from college for the semester. so i had some time to hype myself up.

in that time period i really, really fell in love with the rest of the cast. they seemed bright eyed and fun and watching the excitement as so many of them got ready to make their broadway debuts was just infectious. i don’t talk about it a lot, but the first half of 2018 was a pretty dark period for me. looking forward to seeing this show, waking up early before class to watch them get nominated for 12 tonys, waiting for erika’s vlogs each week, are the things that kind of kept me going and kept me smiling while everything else in my life was going on. i also started making a new friend on here with my newfound love of mean girls: i had followed gwen ( @erikahenningsen ) for a few years since the pitch perfect fandom days, but when she popped up on my dash with mg content, i actually reached out and started talking to her. and idk if i’ve ever told her but that helped me a lot in a weird, lonely spot in my life (as talking to her tends to do in ALL my weird, lonely spots now, two years later).

by the time that day in june came around, i had decided to leave college (something else i don’t talk a lot about) due to my mental health being completely in pieces. i didn’t know what i was doing with myself from there. i didn’t really feel like i had anything to look forward to long-term, so i was just hanging on to things i was excited for in the short-term, and the biggest of those things was mean girls. so it’s honestly a miracle that my expectations weren’t totally crushed with that much riding on it lmao. but i just remember sitting in that theater and feeling two and a half hours of pure, unadulterated joy for the first time in months (and it was the day that the bus got stuck onstage! my first theatrical mishap!). i was just so HAPPY, and i needed that more than ever.

i was for sure so excited to see my “idol” (i guess that’s the word?) onstage for the first time, i was super excited to meet gwen in person for the first time, as i said in a previous ask i also ended up getting my first job from that weekend, but i went back to see it again ten days later mostly just because i wanted to feel that initial joy again. and i did. it left a grin on my face for the next week.

then i won the lottery in august to see jonalyn’s regina debut and getting to watch her have that moment and watching the cast support her (and getting to sit front row for the first time!) just made me feel so warm inside and made me really start getting attached to these wonderful people and the work they put in eight times a week. the next time i went, a week and a half later, is when i met the rest of what would become the “mellow cool squad” and later turn into my chosen family. from that point on…it was history.

so, i fell in love with this show because it brought me happiness during a time when not a lot of things did. 

but i kept coming back because of what it brought me afterwards. because of mean girls, i found my best friends. because of mean girls, i met the person who gave me the most meaningful romantic relationship i’ve ever had (no matter how it ended). this show has been a backdrop and a safe place to gather for so many special moments over the past two years, and it has just become a part of my life in a way i can’t describe. when i’m feeling down, i can be cheered up by a trip to mean girls. when i want to celebrate something, i usually would ask that we celebrate at mean girls. it’s so hard to describe “why” exactly i keep going back, except that it just…makes me happy. it feels like a home.

and this is due in no small part to the people in that theater, onstage and off. they are a huge reason why i’m so passionate about this show. the staff and security at the august wilson have made me feel taken care of in a way that i am so thankful for. i will always appreciate having a buddy on security who, when i had to run to the lobby at the end of act one because of some weird piercing headache, came to bring me water and tylenol and sat down to joke with me about his kids until intermission started. i appreciate having someone at the box office who asks how i’m doing and what i’ve been up to lately when i go to pick up my tickets. and this cast…some of the most meaningful words on dark days have come from erika when she’s seen i’m having a rough time. some of the funniest conversations i’ve ever had in my life, and the ones that have taught me the most about myself as a person, have been the ones i’ve had with gianna. taylor has gone out of her way to joke with me and ask how work is going, because she knows how much of the work i do is due to how much i look up to her. and so on. every person who has joined or left this cast has left an impact on me in one way or another. it’s why i go out of my way to see every understudy i can! not just because i want to experience the performance for myself, but also because i want to support the people who have, either knowingly or unknowingly, supported me in little ways.

so………..this was a HUGE ramble but basically. i love this show because it has fundamentally improved my life and made me happier, at every level, as i’ve grown and changed as a person for two years (even if i don’t always agree with the decisions they make, as y’all love to point out). and as long as i have the money and the time, i keep going back because of that! that’s why i guess, to put it in your words, i’ve been in a bit of a “funk” about it lately. that show that made me so happy is starting to disappear, both bc of content changes and bc the people who made it a home are moving on. i hope any of this made sense. ❤️

[ofontaines]

『JACOB ELORDI ❙ CIS MALE』 ⟿ looks like ACE FONTAINE is here for HIS SENIOR year as a MECHANICAL ENGINEERING student. HE is 22 years old & known to be PROACTIVE, ENTERPRISING, REFRACTORY & TEMERARIOUS. They’re living in PERKINS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ SAM. 23. EST. SHE/HER.

aw shit here we go again hello i’m sam and i also write for elvie ( @ofcrofts​ ) and jinx ( @ofjinxs​ ). it’s been a minute since i created an all new character, but i’ve had this idea in my head for a while and i’m really excited so please message me if you would like to plot!

i. stats

ｆｕｌｌ ｎａｍｅ：grayson ciel blakesley fontaine

ｐｒｅｆｅｒｒｅｄ ｎａｍｅｓ：ace, gray for close friends

ｈｏｍｅｔｏｗｎ：hackberry, louisiana

ｄａｔｅ ｏｆ ｂｉｒｔｈ：june 1st, 1997

ｚｏｄｉａｃ：gemini

ｏｒｉｅｎｔａｔｉｏｎ：tbd

ｆｉｅｌｄ ｏｆ ｓｔｕｄｙ：mechanical engineering

ｐｏｓ． ｔｒａｉｔｓ：proactive, enterprising, clever.

ｎｅｇ． ｔｒａｉｔｓ：refractory, temerarious, brash.

ii. history

grayson ciel "ace" fontaine was born in cameron, louisiana and spent most of his childhood in the nearby community of hackberry. he was an only child raised under the care of his mother.

survival was a struggle for as far back as he can remember. what little money his mother earned from her various odd jobs often went right into supporting her drug habit, leaving ace to learn how to fend for himself from an early age.

he was a bright and curious kid, often breezing through his schoolwork when he attended ( just enough days to keep the truancy officers and social workers off of his case ). he liked to take apart small electronics and machines to study them, and he had a talent for creating new things out of recycled parts.

however, most of his time was spent polishing his survival skills: pickpocketing, scamming, straight up thievery. he was a seasoned expert long before his life would completely change, and old habits die hard.

according to the reports of the time, ace was the one who found his mother dead in their living room, overdosed on the sofa. he doesn't remember this at all. a deeply repressed memory, unsurprisingly.

he goes into the system for a few months. then, of all people his biological father shows up out of nowhere looking to take him in.

orville blakesley iv. an old money businessman from manhattan's upper east side. turns out, ace was the product of an affair that had occurred during a quick business trip to louisiana. he knew about his son, as he kept tabs on the woman he had left behind but claimed to be in love with despite never stepping in to help her or their child. his name wasn't on the birth certificate, and his mother never spoke of him, but a quick dna test compulsory in ace's case removed all doubt and granted him parental rights.

ace was twelve when everything was finalized and he was taken to live in new york city under the guise of being a long lost distant relative in dire need of a home. there was a small frenzy among the local press, and once it faded ace was alone in an unfamiliar world all by himself. his new family did little to help him. his half siblings never even gave him a chance, taking an instant disliking to him and openly expressing their disapproval of their father's decision to bring the product of his affair into their home. his stepmother, surprisingly enough, was one of the very few people he actually liked & who was actually quite nice to him from the start, buuuut that wasn’t enough for him to behave. from the age of eleven onwards, all of ace’s energy would go right to pissing off his dad.

little troublemaking antics escalated fast. by the time he was a teenager, ace was pulling off illegal shit on a much larger scale than ever before. he’d have quite an impressive record for petty crimes if it wasn’t for his dad calling in very expensive favors every time ace wound up in the back of a police car.

orville, much to everyone’s shock, always tried his very best to be understanding despite the trouble his son was constantly getting into. unfortunately this turned him into a bit of a doormat.

his father’s acceptance of his terrible behavior just pissed him off even more. ace wanted to make his dad upset. he wanted his dad to feel the hurt and anger and sadness that he felt upon realizing that his father could’ve been there for him his whole life but simply chose not to be. it didn’t really matter to him that orville was putting in the effort now and trying to make up for his past wrongdoings.

he attended a private school for children of the elite in new york city and even though he liked to pretend that he didn't care, he did well enough to graduate fourth in his class and get into columbia university without his family having to step in and donate a new library to the school.

unfortunately, his parents were very happy about this so of course ace had to go and ruin it. :/ he flunked out of columbia in his freshman year after he attended two ( 2 ) classes the entire semester. as per the pattern, his parents didn't really punish him at all and instead paid for him to attend radcliffe which he had picked out himself, hoping that the distance and freedom might calm him down a bit.

it didn't, but his new girlfriend did. he fell hard, and the two moved fast. got together their first semester of freshman year, and over summer break he proposed. they lasted until around spring break of their sophomore year.

after the break up, he threw himself into school but he also got back into his old troublemaking ways! he likes to go street racing, so he's gotten caught boosting cars around lovell a few times. he steals from stores, he gets into fights, he attends every wild party on campus and at splatterhouse and most likely causes a scene. every single time, his dad just takes out his checkbook and makes it go away.

iii. extras

grayson blakesley is the name on all of his official legal documents, but he reflexively corrects anyone who ever calls him by his father's surname. he doesn't particularly like to be called grayson either, but that doesn't happen as often anyway.

even though they're funding his education and his shenanigans, ace has basically cut off all contact with the blakesleys. he could access their fortune bc it’s not like they’ve cut him off or anything, but he absolutely refuses to go anywhere near money that he hasn’t made on his own so he lives off of what he makes from winning street races & his other assorted activities ( mostly thievery ).

he’s most likely stolen regularly from anyone who’s ever been a roommate of his or honestly just happens to live in perkins. it’s not compulsive ; he’s just a jerk.

probably spends every weekend in a holding cell at the lovell police department. what for? just close your eyes and point to any entry on a list of common misdemeanors and there's at least a 60% chance that you're right.

he’s on and off the school hockey team. a genuinely good player, but he just can’t keep up the good behavior required of him in order to keep his spot on the team.

has a little bit of a southern twang. a little bit.

he's ambidexterous!

if it wasn't obvious enough, he's a total daredevil. sometimes he does things out of rebellion, sometimes he does things out of curiosity, sometimes he does things out of sheer boredom. there's absolutely no pattern to his decisions. he has no impulse control whatsoever.

dating hasn't worked out well for him since the break up with his ex fiance. not sure if it's because he isn't over her or if it just kinda fucked him up, but either way he's since struggled with forming stable, long-lasting relationships.

iv. wanted connections

ex fiance *wc on the main

best friend

“friends” ( more like acquaintances who he neither likes nor dislikes )

actual friends, most likely fellow hooligans

disgruntled former roommates

people he’s stolen from

people he’s gotten into fights with

short term exes, fwb, one night stands

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with these, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[highqueenofelfhame]

“why are you lying to me” “do you even still love me?” FOR ROWAELIN IDK WHAT AU I JUST WANT SOME AnGST

PART TWO OF THE EXES AU I didn’t include the do you even still love me bit bc it doesn’t fit hOWEVER. Here we go.

The rest of the weekend went almost identical to Friday night. Aelin called Rowan drunk in the middle of the night, he picked her up from the bar and took her home, she begged him to stay until she fell asleep, and when she woke up he was gone.

Monday morning he sent her a text to make sure she was okay, because despite Aelin always drinking in some capacity, the amount she was drinking over the course of the weekend had worried him. She said she was fine, just taking a break from reality over the weekend, don’t worry about it. Right. Like Rowan Whitethorn would ever not worry about Aelin Galathynius.

It was around eight thirty PM when she called this time, about six hours earlier than her other calls, and she wasn’t drunk. In fact, she was sober, her voice as clear as her bright blue eyes.

“I just came out of the office and everyone is gone for the day, and I have a flat. Aedion isn’t answered so I just…can you please help me? You know I’m not good at these things,” her voice was a little muffled, rubbing against her shirt or something as she likely dug around in her trunk. She wasn’t good at these things because she never had to be. They were supposed to have gotten married and Rowan would have taken care of all of this for her regardless for the rest of their lives. Rowan rapped his fingers on his kitchen counter and shoved his box of takeout into the fridge.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Gods, thank you so much. I owe you,” she quipped, the end of her sentence trailing up an octave in relief. He hung up and stuffed his phone into his pocket, snagged his keys off the counter, and made his way to Kingsflame Technologies, her parents business that she was now CEO of at the young age of 26.

When he pulled up, she was sitting with in the open back of her SUV, spare tire and manual jack on the ground next to the completely deflated tire that was still attached to her car. No, she wouldn’t have been able to get anywhere on that thing. He parked, inspecting the tire as he approached, shaking his head slightly.

“Do I or do I not have the most absurd luck you’ve ever seen?” She asked him, pushing off the back of her car. Rowan nodded his head in agreement, acutely award that this was the first sober conversation they’d had in six months. He dropped to the ground and got to work, jacking the car up off the ground, too aware of the way her eyes trailed over his arms. He didn’t say much as he worked, but then neither did she, just standing to the side and watching, most likely absorbing the instruction of how to change a tire so that maybe next time she could do it on her own. She was smart that way, a genius actually, her IQ so high that nobody had ever doubted that Kingsflame would thrive under her control when she took over. Nobody ever thought it would be so soon, though.

When he finished, he pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans, finally giving himself a moment to actually look at her. She was looking at him, too, her turquoise and gold eyes sad, the smile she gave him not quite reaching her eyes. She also looked exhausted, just completely and utterly exhausted, which he honestly expected after the weekend she’d had.

“I’m sorry for this,” she gestured to the mess on the ground, “and for this weekend. My phone kept dying and you’re the only number I really have memorized anymore. I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not…stupid,” he said, and the hesitation in his voice made her laugh, a real laugh, the laugh he loved and dreamt about every fucking night of his life. Then he was laughing, too, the specific laugh that only ever came out around Aelin. The laugh that only she had ever coaxed out of him, it was warm and happy. Sure, he laughed with his friends, but this was something different. A sound his friends hadn’t heard since she broke up with him.

Their laughter died shortly later and an awkward silence filled the space between them, Aelin rocking back onto the heels of her shoes before they reconnected with the ground with a loud slap. She cleared her throat, chewing on her bottom lip – a habit she had since before Rowan had known her.

“I should let you go,” she said softly, bending to pick up the tools, the mess off the ground. Rowan quickly joined her, taking the heavy jack from her hands and tucking it back into it’s compartment, making sure everything was in the right place before he shut the back of her car. “Thank you, Ro.” She moved like she wanted to reach for him, to hug him, but didn’t, awkwardly turning and getting into the drivers seat. He stood there, leaning against his car as she drove away, unable to take his eyes off the place she’d been standing before him moments ago. Unable to unhear the words she’d said so sadly. I should let you go.

-

On Tuesday, it was because her smoke alarm was chirping and she couldn’t reach it. Apartment maintenance wouldn’t be able to come by until the next morning, and she wouldn’t be able to sleep if it kept beeping. Aedion was in Rifthold on business for Kingsflame, and Fenrys was going through a breakup. Lorcan, though dating her friend Elide, didn’t like her enough to help her do anything, unless it meant pushing her down a set of stairs. So when Rowan’s phone rang at six in the evening, when he was finishing up at work, and Aelin gave her whole spiel of how everyone else was busy – he drove to Aelin’s house and stood on a chair and changed the batteries of the smoke alarm. He checked all of them around her apartment, and the carbon monoxide detectors, ensuring that those batteries were good to go, too.

“You should be all set,” he said, hopping off the dining room chair. His landing was quiet as a bird in flight, hardly making a sound when his feet landed on the ground.

“Thank you, Ro. I’m sorry,” she said again, chewing on her full bottom lip, braiding the ends of her hair absently. He merely nodded and left moments later.

-

On Thursday, it was because the toilet was running, and it seemed silly to call her apartment’s maintenance team for such a small job. Aedion was still out of town, Fenrys was still sad, and Lorcan still hated her guts. So when she called Rowan at ten thirty as he stepped out of the shower, he got dressed and went to her apartment, finagling the insides of the toilet tank until the running ceased and everything was in working order.

The whole time, Aelin stood by the door, bouncing on her toes impatiently, golden hair braided over her shoulder. She wore a large t-shirt with a band logo and shorts that barely covered anything. Her feet were bare, toes painted a dark, emerald sort of green.

When he finished this time, it had only been ten minutes, but her hands were raw from wringing them as though she were overly anxious about him being in her bathroom. The bathroom that they used to share, that they had spent three years worth of mornings brushing teeth next to one another. The bathroom that he had taken her on the counter of after a shower.

He wiped his hands on a towel, and she moved from the doorway, letting him exit into the bedroom, watching him go out into the sitting room. Still, she chewed on her bottom lip, so much so that it was a bright hue from being gnawed at.

“Thank you, Ro,” she said, her voice soft. Softer still than it had been days ago, softer than when she had asked him to stay until she was asleep. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, but they both knew that wasn’t true. She had broken his heart, left without explanation, asked him to move out after telling him she didn’t want to be with him anymore. She had done plenty. And that lip, sucked between her bottom teeth as she tried not to cry, was another thing she kept doing, the anxious gesture twisting his gut because he wanted nothing more than to kiss her worries away. But he couldn’t. So he grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and moved toward the door. When she thought he was going to leave, she started to turn to retreat back into the bedroom, but his voice made her pause.

“Why are you lying to me?” Aelin froze, turning slowly on her heels.

“What?”

“About everyone else. Fenrys would have still come. Lorcan would have probably come if Elide asked. You know you could have called maintenance and they could do these little things when you’re not home. And I know you stabbed your tire or something, there wasn’t a nail and the gash was too big. So why are you lying to me?” He didn’t sound mad, his voice was even, maybe just curious. That lip was back between her teeth, growing more red by the second.

“I,” she had to pause to swallow the lump in her throat, her voice cracking on the single syllable. She leaned against the door frame of her bedroom, toes digging into the plush carpet in an attempt to ground herself. “I miss you so much that I can’t breathe and I’ve been trying to let you go for six months and all I can think about is that you should be home. And I can’t – you still came when I called. That first night was an accident I really couldn’t remember anyone else’s number but your’s. But you still came. And you carried me upstairs and tucked me into bed and sat there until I fell asleep because I asked you to. And seeing you felt too good. It felt…I felt whole? So I got hammered all weekend just to call you to take me home. And then I put bad batteries in my smoke alarm, and broke my toilet and slashed my own tire just to see you. Because I knew you’d still come,” she was crying now, bent over with her hands on her knees, tears dripping onto her legs, running down her thighs. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand the same time she heard the front door close. She let out a sob – she was alone.

@but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @thebitchupstairs @musicmaam @starseternalnighttriumphant

[reikunrei]

50 Questions You’ve Never Been Asked

I was tagged by @mbejus thanks!! :3c havent done one of these in a million years

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?: i do not have one! my comb is black tho

2. Name a food you never eat?: applesauce, can’t stand the texture lol

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?: i tend to be both but more often run too warm. i run warm but i get cold real easy

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?: playing breath of the wild!!

5. What is your favorite candy bar?: crunch bars i think :3

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event?: i think so? maybe?

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?: “love you too” to my grandma on the phone

8. What is your favorite ice cream?: chocolate peanut butter!!

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?: good ol’ water

10. Do you like your wallet?: not really LOL it’s really feminine looking and falling apart but at least it holds all my random receipts that i forget to throw away

11. What was the last thing you ate?: some pumpkin bread i baked the other day!

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?: nope

13. The last sporting event you watched?: probably a baseball game w andy?? cant remember who specifically was playing tho

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?: caramel!

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to?: also my grandma LOL

16. Ever go camping?: yeah a lot! haven’t in a lil bit tho

17. Do you take vitamins?: nope

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?: absolutely not lmao never stepped inside a church i dont think

19. Do you have a tan?: no i am Very White

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?: chinese food!!

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?: not usually

22. What color socks do you usually wear?: always patterned always different colors

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit?: i mean yeah a little! just the usual like 7 mph above or whatever and sometimes have gone a little above 10 mph over if im going downhill and dont notice it right away

24. What terrifies you?: the future lol. but also spiders inside my bedroom

25. Look to your left, what do you see?: my school stuff i brought home w me sitting on the floor bc i dont have room for it anywhere else lol

26. What chore do you hate?: vacuuming (too noisyyy)

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?: i think probs steve irwin?? or just animal people in general

28. What’s your favorite soda?: i dont really drink soda, but i do like the san pellegrino grapefruit flavored soda!

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?: usually just the drive thru, but it depends on the situation!

30. Who’s the last person you talked to?: my mom

31. Favorite cut of beef?: i have no idea LOL been making a good mongolian beef recipe w flank steak lately and i like that texture sooo maybe flank?

32. Last song you listened to?: The Greatest Show from the greatest showman hdjshdf

33. Last book you read?: currently in the middle of lotr the two towers but havent picked it up in a while

34. Favorite day of the week?: rn it’s mondays bc that means my mom is working and won’t bug me very much

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?: i dont think so

36. How do you like your coffee?: replace it with hot chocolate and ur good

37. Favorite pair of shoes?: my full black hightop converse

38. The time you normally go to sleep?: lately it’s been anywhere from 11:30 PM-12:30 AM

39. The time you normally get up?: anywhere from 8:30-9:30 AM

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?: depends, but i think visually i like sunsets more

41. How many blankets on your bed?: 2 (my duvet and my weighted blanket)

42. Describe your kitchen plates: all white and very flat

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?: i dont drink alcohol lol

44. Do you play cards?: sometimes!

45. What color is your car?: silver

46. Can you change a tire?: i never have before but i feel like i could figure it out!

47. Your favorite province?: we dont have provinces in the us and ive never been anywhere that has a province LOL but i will say i learned i like arizona state landscapes more than anything else so that’s my answer

48. Favorite job you’ve ever had?: the wood and metal shop at school!!! sad i didnt get to say a proper goodbye to them all :(

49. How did you get your biggest scar?: i have a very faded scar on my outer right thigh (can really only see it after i’ve taken a hot shower and stretch the skin a certain way). i got it in high school when we were running the mile, and i jumped around a group of people who were blocking the thin walkway and scraped my leg along what was probably an old piece of chain link fence. it was maybe 8-10 inches long up my thigh, and it bled pretty good. had to wear bandaids and a leg wrap under my pants for about a week until it healed enough

50. What did you do today that made someone else happy?: uuuuuh wished my mom a happy mother’s day

I tag: whoever wants to do it !!!

[ask-svt-hearteu]

Vampire! Joshua

Genre/Warnings: fluff, historically incorrect probably, mentions of religion that are purely because of this supernatural au, cursing

Word Count: 2278

A/N: surprise :p i was kinda feeling inspired bc this is a superior concept sorry it’s not a request :( but i really hope you guys like this! it’s been a minute since i’ve written something, i hope i portrayed joshua correctly too - admin seri

1800s poster church boy

until he fell in love 

or so he thought 

he was strumming his guitar at choir practice 

sitting at the side while the nun yelled at the girls, a usual day at the church

and he looked up at the sound of the doors opening and saw her

immediately he’s fascinated by things he’s never cared about before 

it was like just the flutter of her lashes made him swoon

poor unsuspecting Joshua Hong, didn’t he know what compulsion was 

for a month after, people said he changed 

he quit choir and began chasing after this one girl 

as were many other men, as they were all too blinded by the compulsion to realize, him included 

but she liked him best, it was the only explanation, because why else would she

he remembers that night, dressed in a tux as her date to one of the many balls she was invited too

being pulled into one of the many secluded rooms by the tug of her nimble fingers on his tie 

feeling the soft touch of her lips 

feeling the pain of her teeth sinking into his bottom lip

she seemed to take great amusement in watching him pull back in horror 

she bit down on her own lip, hard

he watched, horrified as the blood dripped from her lips while she smirked

and she kissed him again in his frozen state

next thing he knew he was laying on his bed with a terribly sore neck 

left with only a short, vivid scene of her baring her fangs and wrapping her hands around his neck 

she was gone and so was the compulsion

he looked into the mirror, ran his hands over the puncture wounds on his neck, and hissed at the pain of a new set of teeth growing

it didn’t take long for him to realize he needed to escape town 

it also didn’t take long for him to meet another vampire

Choi Seungcheol offered him an understanding smile and handed him a ring 

from then on, he was with Seventeen 

becoming a vampire killed any belief Joshua had in god

he was even the ‘I've read the entire bible five’ type, but then again what else was there really to do

there wasn’t much he could say about the topic now, the evidence was clear 

however, his knowledge made him the absolute perfect candidate for his role in Seventeen

because where there’s a small, close-knit town, there’s a church

prominent members of the community reside in the church 

and they know all the dirty secrets

all he was to do was wiggle his way into the church slowly as the young, pleasant man offering to play the guitar during mass 

getting along with all the kids

become the major’s kid favorite 

shaking hands with the major as he grins ‘shyly’ when the major dotes on how much the kid loves him 

sly, sly Joshua 

his job, primarily, is to make sure none of the town leaders catch on to the recent rise in animal deaths 

and that no other vampires left any loose ends or some people suspicious

and especially make sure as hell there aren’t any vampire hunters

so he’s at choir practice with a guitar at his side, smiling softly at the nostalgic sight of the kids singing

til he smells a familiar scent in the air and turns to see Jun

“What are you going here?”

smiling brightly, Junhui points, “the kid my girl babysits gets to play this weekend” 

“she’s adorable” Joshua looks to the little girl standing next to the piano bouncing on the balls of her feet 

“yeah I am,” Jun’s girlfriend buts in cheekily, “thanks Josh” 

he hums nonchalantly, “no problem” 

while the three of them settle to watch the practice, Jun leans in and whispers, “so any updates?” 

“one lady, she’s on the council and is always asks me about our living situation whenever we talk. it’s obvious she’s skeptical. I overheard her talking about the deer Vernon forgot to bury last week too”

“are you going to compel her to stop?” 

he shakes his head, “no, she’s been so adamant, it’ll be too suspicious if she suddenly stops caring” 

“what are we going to do?” 

he shrugs and gives a reassuring smile, “I’ll figure it out” 

later that evening, he finds himself at a council member’s dinner party 

the amount of dinner parties Joshua has been to is astonishing, it really felt like they had nothing better to do with their lives 

so in his dress shirt and slacks, he greets everyone with a shake of the hand or a polite hug

secretly wanting to just down ten glasses of champagne because that’s how utterly unlikable the council members are

managing to escape, he finds himself in one of the many hallways of the mansion and spots a lone figure 

Joshua watches as you examine the picture frames in close detail, as if you were looking as to see what color shoes each person was wearing 

slowly, he takes light steps towards you, standing behind to take a look at the frames himself 

you feel a strange sensation, like that unexplainable feeling that you’re being watched

so you turn your head

“Jesus fuck!” 

you stumble a couple steps away from him

how could you not even hear his footsteps

despite your loud exclamation, he remains cool and only smirks 

“saying God’s name in vain?” he shakes his head mockingly 

you huff, gathering your composure, “I wouldn’t be if you weren’t being so creepy” 

seeing him simply shrug and turn back to the frames, you scowl

“who even cares about that anyways,” you mutter under your breath

“never said I did,” he smiles at you calmly

a very unmannerly snort rises from you, “geez you just keep getting creepier and creepier” 

he chuckles, “Joshua Hong, nice you meet you. you can call me Josh.”

how he hasn’t been the slightest put off by your unfriendliness, you don’t know

“Y/N L/N” 

for the first time, you take him in, finally noticing how insanely handsome he is

in fact, he seems perfect

seeing as you let a little bit of your guard down, Joshua asks, “so tell me about the pictures”

“if you really want to know, Joshua“ you tease, emphasizing the ‘ua’, “this is my family” 

he looks at your impassive expression, noticing the way your tone becomes lifeless when you talk about them 

“this is your house?” 

you smile bitterly, “yeah, it’s nice right?” 

shaking his head he exhales, “I don’t know seems kind of lonely” 

you eye him with a look of surprise and he laughs 

“I live with twelve other guys and I think that’s the only way you could fill a house like this” 

seeing you crack a smile, he grins triumphantly 

“twelve guys? that’s an odd arrangement” 

“it works” 

lifting his finger, Joshua points to one of the pictures, “where’s this at?” 

“the woods just outside of town, that’s my family and the major’s family camping, we go every year” 

finally getting to what he came here for, Joshua says, “you guys probably heard of all the animal deaths in the forest then huh” 

you sigh dramatically, “not you too, seems like the whole council is obsessed with it these days” 

“oh?” 

oh fuck

the chances of this town knowing about vampire seems very high

in a town where a couple families have been in control since forever, those families passed down the secrets

he’d have to ask Wonwoo for more history

“I can’t believe my parents are making me join the council, I don’t know what about turning twenty-one suddenly allows me to handle city politics” 

he makes a note of that and chuckles, “mmm yeah, seems more like a clubbing night instead of an inauguration”

you reach and nudge his arm naturally, “that’s what i’m saying!” 

“another thing also,” Joshua raises his brows amused and tilts his head towards the champagne glass in your hand

“what are you a saint,” you can’t help but smile, “okay holy one, take it from me” 

he almost bursts into laughter at the irony

simply just clinking your glass with his, his eyes sparkle with a playful gleam, “cheers” 

after getting your number, which you will never admit you happily gave him, you both start to talk

from daily conversations simply about each others day 

to both of you dying when the conversation leads somewhere completely random 

you honestly just think, like wow, when has your adult dating life ever been this successful 

but Joshua, when he first found out about you and your family, his only thought was how useful the information you had could be 

though he’s being honest with himself, you had him since that dinner party

not head over heels compulsion type of attraction

just your tough snarky demeanor, no doubt because of the way you were raised 

and the way it fell into a giggly mess meshed with sarcastic comebacks as if you weren’t just laughing your head off

and even if you pretend to be cold-hearted sometimes, you’re the first one to give someone directions or to pick up their fallen papers 

“clearly you like her” Jeonghan laughs, entertained by his close friend’s struggle

“I know that much” he chortles, “Y/n likes me too” 

“and you haven’t made a move because? there’s only so many coffee runs and choir practices you guys can use as an excuse” 

Joshua stares into the moon from his spot on the rooftop, realizing it must’ve past midnight by now 

“today is Y/n’s birthday, they’re going to tell her today” 

“well didn’t she invite you to her dinner party?” 

his lips twitch remembering you ranting about it to him, complaining about the formalities of it all, how you really didn’t want all the council members and their snotty kids, no matter how cute, at your twenty-first birthday

you had reached over and tapped his arm, letting your hand graze against him, “looks like it’s your job to make it worthwhile” 

arriving at your mansion, he’s dressed in his best suit and clutching a bouquet of flowers

he can smell your distinct perfume getting closer and closer to the door and smiles softly when you pause in front for a few moments

you’re feeling just as nervous as he is

“Josh” you greet, finally taken to calling him by his nickname

“you look lovely” he says warmly

he reaches for your hand, bringing it up his lips tenderly and presses a kiss

eyes never leaving his, you breathe deeply

“old-fashioned” you mumble, hoping your twenty-one year old self isn’t seriously blushing right now

“i prefer romantic but you’re the birthday girl” 

you glare at him playfully, “hey only i’m allowed to be cheeky today” 

he lets you lead him around the house, pointing out all the elaborate decorations your parents had set up

he really tries his best to pay attention, but the entire time all he can focus on is how he’s going to break the news of being a vampire to you

for a moment he even thought he could hear his heartbeat but stupid, his heart doesn’t beat

you ended up giving him a tour of the entire house with the pool as your last stop

grabbing his hand, successfully sending sparks up his arm, you lead him outside

he doesn’t let go 

“at least the weather is pretty today” you hum, purposely not talking about your hand in his

“looks like the guests are starting to come” 

you both can hear the sound of guests chattering and expensive cars beeping

“just let me be alone with someone a like for a moment” 

before he can show you any type of reaction you let out a tiny giggle, and use your intertwined hands to tug him closer to you

“do you like me too?” your eyes hold a teasing glint, already knowing the answer

“yes, i do like you” Joshua says firmly

you become serious at his sincere and determined expression 

“so what have we been waiting for?” 

Joshua sighs, unknowingly gripping your hand tighter

“I feel like I should tell you something first, and if it doesn’t work, I need you to forget it” 

“okay”

there were other ways where this could’ve gone smoother, but this information never is smooth anyways

“I’m a vampire”

he watches you cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t have to compel you to forget, because that would really mess with his heart

your serious expression falls into a blank one and he almost isn’t sure that it’s you gripping his hand tighter or the other way around

you let out a shaky laugh, “since when were you so dramatic” 

“what-” 

you cut him off, “that was a bit easier to process than i thought” 

 “than you thought?“ he questions incredulously

“Josh, I found out about vampires when I was 16. I was a pretty sneaky teen so do you know how funny it was for me to pretend this was new information this morning to my parents?” you grin mischievously, ignoring his dumbfounded expression

“so what about me?” 

“you Joshua Hong,” you tap him on the nose, “aren’t as subtle as you think, I’m just smarter than you I guess” 

recovering from his surprise he smirks, “all this time, I was worried about you feeling betrayed, but now I do” 

he pulls you closer, letting the hand not holding yours fall on your waist 

you roll your eyes and stare up at him, realizing how utterly smitten you are with him

“just kiss me already, and please no fangs” 

The Seventeen Vampire AU Series:

| Mingyu | Junhui | Seungcheol | Joshua |

MASTERLIST

[jungnoir]

today, i smile;

shin hoseok | what nobody told him about being in love is that it can’t just go away, and sometimes, it never really leaves in the first place. a continuation of hate me now. | 3.9k words. | angst, eventual happiness. based off “I smile” by day6.

a/n: originally, I wasn’t planning on continuing this little drabble, but I decided after a little day6 marathon (and a completely free weekend!) that this was warranted. also shout out to @wonhopes bc she mentioned wanting to write a sequel for hate me now just as i was writing the sequel. for hate me now. hehehe :)

Usually, people aren’t supposed to wake up to nightmares, rather from them, but Hoseok had somehow been the exception today.

The sun wasn’t falling from the sky, the government wasn’t being overthrown, and as far as he could fathom in his groggy mind, he wasn’t dead and in hell. In fact, Hoseok woke to a gentle sunrise and a warm bed, nothing out of place as it had been for the last year. He still had two eyes, two ears, and a mouth, and he felt pretty healthy to say the least. Yet, in the way that we all do when something has been going right a little too long, there’s a feeling of inexplainable dread hanging over his head the moment his eyes open that autumn morning. It’s only when he grabs his phone to check what had happened while he slept that he realized just why.

(1) Unread Message(s)

received: 8:22 a.m., september 4th, 2017 

(y/n): are you free?

Hoseok thinks his mind is playing tricks on him when that’s the first notification he sees on his lockscreen, the background ironically displaying a neon sign that reads “say goodbye to the past”.

He slides the notification to the right and his a feeling of nausea starts to settle in his chest when he realizes that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, that in fact before that very question you’d sent, there were still the remains of your messages to each other before that fateful day a year ago. The ones he hadn’t had the heart to delete. 

He quickly checks the time once he makes himself sit up in bed, his sheet falling and exposing his bare chest to the cool air of his room. He feels a shiver run down his spine (and he can’t even say it’s due to the temperature) when he realizes it’s only been ten minutes since you’d sent that. His mind can only focus on the fact that ten minutes ago, you’d promptly risen for what he had hoped was a restful sleep, grabbed your phone and willingly texted him first thing. And of all things… asking for his time.

Hoseok’s mind practically short circuits trying to think of what to say, the very simple responses “yes” or “no” being lost on him just at the mention of your name. what could he really say? Would it even be enough? What exactly were you asking for, anyway?

hoseok: today? I should be. why?

He waits with baited breath, a feeling of uneasiness filling his stomach as he watches and blanks on what to say or think. There you are, on the other side of the phone, and he thinks for one horrid second that you might have accidentally texted him and that you’d only come into his life for just a few moments, only to leave him disoriented and in his feelings for the rest of the day. It had to be an accident, it had to be.

(y/n): good! I wanna get coffee with you, at that place on peach street? it’s cool if you don’t wanna but I’m free this morning and we should catch up

Was he missing something? Maybe he’d slept his way into an alternate universe where you’d broken his heart and not the other way around, or maybe a universe where you were just distant friends and hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks. He couldn’t come up with any logical reason the girl he’d broken the heart of would want to catch up with him, why she would feel she should catch up with him. You were always funny like that. He just couldn’t find it in him to laugh.

hoseok: when should I come?

(y/n): now, if you’re good. I work nearby it now so I thought it’d be a good place to meet up

hoseok: i’ll see you in 15

(y/n): drive safe!

He stares a little too long at your last message, chalking it up to your kind nature and nothing more, and even as he feels like he can taste last night’s dinner in his mouth at the thought of seeing you again after so long trying to be okay without you, he has to face the music because he’d already sealed his fate. He could handle a measly coffee date, that’s all you asked for. He owed you that much.

He’s been sitting in the window booth for a total of four minutes before he starts to feel nervous again.

He’d carefully checked the cafe the moment he had entered, in the darkest, simplest clothes he could find because he didn’t dare wish to stand out more than he had to today. When he had found you nowhere, he had taken a seat near the windows, where a clear view of the busy street outside allowed him a chance to focus on anything but what was coming for him. He spent his time counting people, counting pets, counting smiles, counting anything that moved to occupy himself. 

He felt dumb sitting there alone, tugging the sleeves of his black turtleneck over his large hands every time the door to the cafe swung open and you didn’t walk in after. He could hear your soft voice scolding him in his head (”Don’t pull your sleeves like that! It’ll stretch!”) but he couldn’t stop. Maybe if he waited a little longer for you, he’d disappear into that turtleneck completely.

For a moment, Hoseok contemplated sending a follow up text to you just in case you couldn’t make it after all, or maybe in case you’d forgotten altogether? But he hadn’t had a conversation with you in over a year until that very morning, and he didn’t want to make any sudden moves in fear of fucking everything up before it had a chance to be. He didn’t know what he might say that could make or break this opportunity, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

He’s just about to pull the neck of his sweater over his mouth and nose when the door swings open, and this time, his heart stutters in his chest when his expected disappointment turns into surprise.

You walk in, and it’s like a movie or something the way you look around for him, shining like a ray of sunlight or something more magnificent. Your cream coat isn’t buttoned up, billowing in the breeze of warm air that hits you the minute you enter the cafe, and he realizes with a frown that not one thing you’re wearing he’s seen before. From your sweater to your jeans to your boots, you’ve completely changed, and he recognizes nothing about you. Even your haircut is different, clean and neat and fitting for someone like you. You look so much better than you did when you were with him, and he’s glad. You look happier, freer.

The minute you see him, your mouth turns into a smile that surprises Hoseok into smiling back, and he bangs his hand on the bottom of the table in an effort to wave to you. He ignores the stinging despite the harsh lip bite he gives himself as you walk over, your voice soft and even the way you speak is lighter, “Hoseok! You look well!”

Hoseok finds it in him to finally pull his sleeves back to his wrists and raises his head to look at you, “You look beautiful.”

The words flow out of him against his will, and while your eyes flash with something that’s nowhere near happy, you quickly regain your composure and laugh it off, and Hoseok relishes in the sound even though he knows it’s fake, “Thanks, I guess.”

He remembered a time when your response was different.

“So, how are things?” You start, working your coat off your shoulders and setting your bag to the right of you. 

Hoseok wracks his brain for an answer, something that wouldn’t sound pathetic or boring or too pleasant, “Oh, well… I haven’t changed much. I’ve been visiting family a lot lately. I recently got a promotion at work, and I’ve got a cat now.”

Your eyebrow raises at this and you chuckle, “A cat? What’s the name?” “Rin. He’s a cuddler and I have the scars to prove it.” At this, Hoseok raises his arm and pulls down his sleeve to reveal white cuts along his skin, all very clearly due to the claws of an enraged cat. The sight makes you shake your head.

“That’s why I told you we should have gotten a dog.” “Psh,” Hoseok falls back into the booth’s seat with an easy smile, “dogs are overrated. It’s cats that’ll rule the world one day.”

You make a face of mock disgust, “I’ve never heard such blasphemy in my life. I’d rather die with the dogs, thank you very much.”

Hoseok is about to make another cat elitist remark when a waitress makes her way over, and the two of you fall into ordering something to eat instead of starting world war three (though, you’re very tempted to not let it go).

It’s several minutes later, when you have a warm tea in your hands and Hoseok is eating a parfait that you decide to speak once more, having observed the muscles in his body no longer tense like they were when you first saw him. “You really do look well, Hoseok. I’m glad.”

Hoseok’s movements come to a halt, mouth full of yogurt and spoon digging for a blueberry when you say this. He tries really hard not to look you in the eye, instead focusing his gaze on your delicate hands holding your teacup, “So, how have you been?”

You, in turn, try not to feel hurt when he brushes off your comment, “Ah, things are really nice. I moved to a small house a little out of the city, and like I told you, I got a new job at a firm up the street. I’m an assistant so some days are pretty hectic, but I’m having such a wonderful time, Hoseok. It really feels like the job I needed, you know? I’m also going out more. I’ve been clubbing almost every other weekend with my friends.”

Hoseok nods, a bit surprised at the sound of you clubbing, “Really? You used to hate clubs with a passion before.”

Your smile turns a little tight, “Feelings change, apparently.”

Hoseok swallows the lump in his throat and shrinks back into his seat as if to escape the nasty feeling arising in his heart. The guilt weighs a ton, even twelve months later, it seems.

“It’s nothing major, Hoseok. I just like letting loose. Something I had no idea I liked before. Now that I have a bit of free time on my hands, it’s riveting. I’m sure there are things you’ve found out you actually really like too.” You bargain, the awkwardness in the air growing by the second. It doubles in size when Hoseok doesn’t reply for a minute.

You’re seconds from taking back your words, feeling bad for bringing up what was clearly still a tough topic. It was you that had called him here, you who had dug up all the bad memories that had followed your painful breakup, and it was you now making what was supposed to be a simple exchanging of words turn into a game of “who had moved on more?”. Hoseok beats you to it, however, “What else are you up to?”

“I… I’m dating someone.” You start tentatively, fully prepared to change the subject if he showed discomfort.

Yet, to your shock (and slight disappointment), he doesn’t show anything at all but a tough face you know all too well. It hurts you that he’s trying to play brave right now, “Tell me about him.”

You don’t exactly know where to start, whether to indulge about his interests and hobbies or to describe him physically, so instead, you start telling him the story of how you two met. You explain how the new job allowed you to meet Eunwoo, the person tasked with showing you around the workplace and getting you settled into your job. After a few bump-ins at the coffee machine, he had made it known that he was attracted to you and thus you began to date. It was nothing serious yet, but you liked him and he you, and it was the first time in a year that you’d felt romantic feelings for someone other than your ex sitting across from you at this table.

As you talked, Hoseok listened attentively, picking up on the details about how Eunwoo was an adventurer, someone who liked to go the extra mile. He lit up the room and everyone followed him, something that made a lot of people jealous of you for dating him. You had expressed it didn’t bother you that much; he wasn’t anything like you’d ever had before, and you admitted it was an exciting prospect to consider. He was, as Hoseok listened, nothing like him. And that was probably a good thing.

Eunwoo would know what he wanted the moment he wanted it. He wouldn’t confuse himself and end up losing the one thing he loved most.

“…and yeah,” you say and take a breath, a small smile on your face, “my friends love him.” 

Hoseok thinks, against his better judgement, that once upon a time your friends loved him too. “He must be a keeper then. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you feel alive, (Y/N). I… I only want you to feel loved.”

You look up from your tea with a jerk, and he looks up too, thinking something was wrong. Your breaths come out quick all of a sudden, eyes blazing as they stare into his own. They’re still so warm and familiar, almost like you never stopped looking in them. Almost like you hadn’t been dreaming of them every night for the last year. 

You stare and stare, trying to get a grip on your breathing when Hoseok pushes himself up from his seat and grabs some napkins from the table to hand to you, and you look at him in confusion before he points at your face, “You’re crying.”

Just as instantly as he says it, you become aware of the warm liquid trailing down your cheeks and making you gasp in embarrassment. They’re rushing from your eyes in an outflow, not contained even as you try to force yourself to stop, the surface of the napkins you press under your eyes quickly become damp and you think there’s something wrong with you for a minute, but it’s just the stunted sadness that had been creeping up on you since last Sunday, the sadness that made you ask him out this morning in the first place.

“I-I’m sorry, Hoseok,” he hates that you even think to apologize right now, knowing it was all his fault you were crying in the first place, “this is probably so awkward for you. I don’t mean to act like a weird, obsessive ex or anything, and I know you’d much rather be anywhere else than here talking to me about how I’ve ‘moved on’ but… I needed to see you once more to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?” His eyebrows screw up in confusion. 

“I needed to make sure I wasn’t in love with you anymore… so I could finally move on. But seeing you… seeing you still the same, still lovely as ever… no amount of what I change will ever make me forget how fucking lovestruck I am for you and probably always will be. What I felt for you was colossal. Hoseok, I swear my heart is going to break in two if I try to pretend I never loved you and still don’t.” 

A range of emotions hit him at once, watching you fumble to appear fine as people nearby start looking over to see what the problem was. To save you the embarrassment further, he slides out of his side of the booth and into yours, turning his broad shoulders until you’re shielded from nosy ears and prodding eyes. You seem to be thankful for it because you sink a little when he does it, but at the same time, you shift away from him as far as the booth would allow. He doesn’t blame you, but boy does it sting.

“Don’t… don’t force yourself to stop loving me,” he hates how asshole-y it makes him sound, but he quickly keeps talking, “don’t force anything in life, okay? Especially not feelings. If you love me still, that’s… that’s fine. It hurts probably, I know, but it’ll fade one day. You’ll keep dating Eunwoo and find out he’s a fucking great guy who you deserve to have, and he’ll help you forget all about me. There’ll come a day when you think about me and laugh instead of cry. People move on. It takes time, but it happens.” He has to greatly resist the urge to cradle your cheek in his large hand and pull you into a hug, because he knows it wouldn’t help you at all.

Still, he wishes.

You wipe at your face with the sleeves of your sweater, “I know, I know. I just wish it didn’t. I wish I could flip a switch and-” “And it would all go away? I understand.” 

At this, you scoff bitterly, “Isn’t that exactly what happened for you? One day you decided you didn’t love me anymore and it took you two months to say it?”

Hoseok, somewhere between horrified you’d think so and understanding that you would, frowns so hard you give him a funny look in return, “It… it came fast, I admit… but things aren’t what I thought they were when I first felt indifferent toward you. My first thought was, yes, I wasn’t in love with you anymore. My feelings for you had dwindled and everything felt heavy when we talked about our future together, something I was once so adamant about… but I realize now why that was. And… and maybe it was my mind telling me I wasn’t ready, or maybe it was my broken heart trying to save me from disappointment again. I still don’t really know what made me feel that way for so long, but I never… never fell out of love with you. Not really.”

Your lungs inflate to their full capacity but they stay that way, something in you too afraid to exhale, because this sounds way too similar to a dream you’d had more than once over the last year. “What… what are you saying?”

“I think I sabotaged myself,” Hoseok bitterly laughs, leaning into the seat with a heavy sigh, “I guess I thought that everything was going too well. Back then, that used to be a sign that everything was about to go to shit and I think I felt indifferent toward the situation and not you. I felt like if I didn’t break it off, you would, soon, and I didn’t know if I could take that feeling again. Not with you.”

It sounded pathetic to him, now that he was saying it out loud. He really fucked up, didn’t he? 

“That’s… that’s terrible, Hoseok.” 

“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But I’m glad you told me.”

Hoseok turns to look at you, blinking and lost, “You are?” 

Your tears have long since stopped, and now you sit up straighter, leaning slightly into the boy even as he fidgets nervously, hands fumbling under the table in lieu of something to do, “Yes. Because a year ago, you wouldn’t have told me at all. You say you haven’t changed but you’ve matured. You know more about yourself now. I’m proud.” 

Hoseok himself can feel tears beginning to pool at the edges of his eyelids, so he turns his head away from you just in case they break away before he can stop them, but he stops himself midway. Because, really, what progress would he have been making if he tried to hide himself away from you just moments after you’d told him you were proud he hadn’t before?

“So I guess this is where we are now. Still loving each other. What messes we are, right?” He laughs cynically to himself, “we seriously don’t know how to break up.”

You laugh back anyway, despite the way his face is downturned and how much you hate to see it that way, your hand coming up to cup his cheek as you ignore the small breath he releases when you do, “We do, we just do it differently than everyone else.”

“Are we going to leave it like this?” Hoseok’s expression is a tad desperate, wet brown eyes watching yours for an answer before your lips would give him one. He leans into your touch when you start to inch your hand away, so you decide to leave it there for the moment.

“I think we should... for now, at least. Like I said, I’m living a different life right now, and you are too. I think you’ve spent too much time focusing on relationships that you haven’t had time to love and repair yourself yet. So let’s do that. Let’s love ourselves and find out who we are and go from there. We don’t have to isolate ourselves from each other but… let’s put this on hold, hm?” You let your hand fall and he doesn’t make a move to follow it this time, his expression soft. He nods with a smile that doesn’t resemble the forced ones he’d been giving, and it makes you smile yourself.

Just then, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you pull it out, finding that it’s your boss calling, and you can only guess what that could be about. You look up to Hoseok and he seems to get the hint, scooting out of the booth silently as you do the same with your jacket and bag in hand. You’re about to dig through your purse to throw some money down for the tea when Hoseok stops your hand, a gentle look in his eyes, “Say it’s one on me. An apology for making you cry this early in the morning.” 

You shoot him a grateful smile and whisper a parting to him before answering your phone and raising said phone to your ear as you make your way out of the cafe. Hoseok quietly settles back down into his seat and watches you walk through the window, mouth moving a mile a minute as you discuss God knows what with your boss. Hoseok is about to go back to his parfait when something glints in the morning light.

A gold necklace hangs around your neck, something he hadn’t noticed before when he’d been sitting right across from you. A piece he’d bought you two years ago for your anniversary, something he had expected you to pawn off the minute you moved out of his place.

To you, Hoseok had changed despite his belief he hadn’t. To him, you hadn’t changed much at all, despite your belief you had. 

There would probably still be nights where Hoseok would wish for you and what you used to have, and those nights would probably hurt just as badly as they had before, but something felt different about today. His shoulders felt a little lighter, and the future felt a little less bleak. Today, he could smile and… maybe. Maybe... it wouldn’t hurt all that bad.

[artificialqueens]

Just The Game We're In- Chapter 7, Part 1 (Ortega)

A/N: hello all i’m v tired!!!!! here is part one of two of chapter 7 bc i didn’t want to subject mobile users to mental amounts of scrolling again! thank u to everyone that’s shown love and interest in this fic, it honestly warms my heart and means the world to me. sadly, I can’t say when you’ll all see me again. I start my job in 2 weeks and I don’t have part 2 written yet, but i’m going to try to make time for writing so that you guys aren’t left hanging. i love and appreciate u!!! thanks to the amazing Dottie, my aq brits gals, and especially pureCAMP who motivated me to write the final two sections with a speed that will probably never be paralleled again. love u all!!!!

Plot Summary: Willam is a senior political advisor to the government’s minister for social affairs and citizenship, Sharon Needles. Throw in a crush on co-worker Courtney, Sharon acting weird around Willam’s colleague Alaska, an incompetent press department headed by Actual Living Zombie Jinkx Monsoon, and Willam’s job couldn’t get much more stressful. No wonder spin doctor Bianca Del Rio is permanently at the end of her tether…

Finishing the final line in the leaflet she’d been working on, Willam hit the save button in satisfaction. Looking around her desk, she immediately tried to find the to-do list she’d made and crossed off Refugee Housing Policy Literature. She leaned back in her chair and stretched, her back cracking as she interlocked her fingers and lifted her arms high into the air. How long had she been sitting at her desk? Casting an eye over to the clock, she was a little taken aback when she realised it was 5pm. Even if the clock hadn’t been there she probably could have told the time by the office’s human equivalent of a sundial; the comms team were packing up their things, pulling their coats on, and making to leave.

Willam supposed she wasn’t that surprised she’d lost track of time. Truth be told, she had almost lost track of what day it was. For the past two months she’d cocooned herself in her work, throwing herself into each job Sharon gave them as Bianca’s hint at a promotion replayed over and over in her mind like a screensaver. It had been all go at the department pretty much since Sharon’s plane had hit the tarmac at Heathrow airport; her presentation at Brussels had been incredibly well-received and the approval from so many other countries pretty much pressured the Prime Minister into backing the policy and giving it the green light, much to the delight of the department and the chagrin of the opposition. Over the past few weeks, Willam had taken the lead in crafting responses to jabs from Phi Phi both in the media and in parliament, organising positive coverage and press opportunities from the newspapers, and creating the literature that would be given out at the policy’s official launch a month away. She was exhausted, but it was a good exhaustion, like how Willam imagined a runner would feel after completing a sprint- she wouldn’t know, she hadn’t run since she was in school- but this job was a sort of series of sprints, Willam supposed. It was fast-paced and intense and sometimes utterly terrifying, but the euphoria at the end was so worth it.

She honestly hadn’t given Courtney a second thought. And her heart definitely didn’t still jump a little as she looked over to her desk and saw her getting ready to go home. In reality, Willam knew that if she wanted to move up the ladder, she didn’t have time to start anything with anyone, not that Courtney wanted to start anything with her, clearly. Which was fine. Willam was okay with that, in fact she was completely over it. The whole thing had just been a stupid crush, totally fleeting. Courtney was just her friend, that was all.

As Courtney approached her desk, Willam made that little speech to herself in her mind, just to remind herself that if any old feelings decided to pop up during their conversation, it was just a false alarm. Like a fire drill. Not real feelings, just her heart playing tricks on her.

Work was more important.

“Hey,” Courtney smiled, looking at Willam and then at the clock. “A bunch of us are going over to Pearl’s flat for dinner if you want to join. It’ll probably descend into a wine night, and I’ve told them a million times that I have to be up early tomorrow, but of course they won’t listen. You in?”

Courtney’s face seemed so hopeful, and it reminded Willam of how she’d looked at her when she’d asked her to stay at her flat all those months ago, and then when she’d asked her to stay in her bed. Her heart felt as if it was being wrung out. Fire drill, fire drill.

“It sounds great, but I’m going to stay and look at these polls Bianca sent over,” Willam quirked her mouth into an apologetic grimace. Seeing Courtney’s bright expression falter a little, Willam felt compelled to add something that would make it better. “Like you said, early start tomorrow, right?”

Just as Willam had hoped, the smile was back on Courtney’s face. “Oh I’m super excited! The weather’s supposed to be really nice too, and the hotel is apparently amazing!”

Willam couldn’t help but crack a smile. “The weather’s not going to matter. We’ll be stuck in conference rooms 90% of the time. Do you think we can ask to do all the debates outside like in primary school?”

As Courtney gave an amused laugh, Willam felt her heart thud in her chest. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Courtney gave her a shy sort of smile.

“Still, even if it is going to be work guising as a weekend away, I’m looking forward to it. I’m so excited for us to spend time together again,” she said softly, then gave a sort of cough and backed up. “As in, like, all of us. Me, you, Alaska, Sharon. It’ll be fun.”

Willam tried to stop herself reading into what Courtney had said. Fire drill. “Yeah, no. It’ll be good.”

Courtney sort of awkwardly hovered at Willam’s desk, her eyes cast almost nervously to the floor. Willam felt as if she was made entirely of ice, not wanting to move in case she scared her away as if Courtney was some sort of forest animal. Just as Courtney opened her mouth to speak again, Trixie yelled from across the department.

“Is she coming or what? I’m fucking starving!”

Courtney furrowed her brow and flared her nostrils, seemingly annoyed at being interrupted. “No, she’s staying to do work.”

Katya tilted her head to the side and gave Willam an awed look in response to the information. “You’re staying past five again? What the fuck, Willam? You’ve been working harder than Rihanna and Fifth Harmony combined!”

“Well some of us have got to get shit done around here,” Willam shrugged nonchalantly. Turning back to Courtney, she couldn’t help her face softening. “Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early!”

Courtney gave a small laugh she didn’t quite seem committed to. “Can’t wait. Night, Will.”

As Courtney walked away from her desk, Willam noticed her shoulders were sort of slumped.

“Alaska! Pearl’s?” Adore shouted, distracting Willam. Alaska made a pouty face.

“Can’t. I’ve still got the debrief from Brussels to write up,” she groaned, leaning on her palm with her chin.  

“That was due ages ago! Sharon’s going to kill you,” Violet gasped, shocked. Alaska leaned back in her chair, her poker face excellent.

“Not if Bianca gets there first. Enjoy your night, ladies.”

Shouting goodbyes across the department, Willam took a moment to think about the weekend ahead. She supposed it wasn’t really the weekend per se; tomorrow was Friday, but it was also the very first day of the party conference, also known as the biggest piss-up of the political calendar. Comms members were left behind in order for MPs, cabinet ministers and their political advisors to let off steam. Sure, the days were filled with debates, speakers and networking, but the evenings were reserved for debauchery. Much as Willam had been throwing herself into her work, she was secretly looking forward to a chance to let her hair down a bit, and even if that chance was only at a Hilton hotel in the South of England then she’d still take it. Her excitement was balanced by a little nervousness, though. Over the weekend Sharon would properly present her policy to the members of her own party for the first time, and the rumblings within the party revealed that there were several ministers who were still frosty towards Dosac as a result of the entire legacy fiasco. Willam could only hope that Sharon would be able to turn the charm on as she was usually able.

Just then, Sharon came out of her office a little furtively, walking towards Alaska’s desk and scanning the office.

“Is that everyone gone?” she asked, her voice low but still audible. Alaska smiled up at her girlfriend, clearly happy to be able to drop the professional charade.

“It’s just Willam. So we’re all good,” she beamed. Sharon smiled back at her and sat on her desk, leaning in and kissing Alaska’s forehead gently.

“I still have a functioning set of eyeballs so let’s keep everything U-rated, you gross sons of bitches,” Willam snorted, trying to pretend she was disdainful but really felt her heart both warming and breaking at how affectionate the two of them were. Alaska moved her mouse with one hand while Sharon held her other, their fingers laced together. Sharon took some time out from gazing adoringly at her girlfriend to shoot a glare Willam’s way.

“That’s a shame, we were looking forward to doing that very secret and bad thing we do with your Sharpies after you go home,” she drawled, earning a snort from Alaska.

“So how are you guys even going to function this weekend anyway? I don’t suppose the hotel’s going to conveniently fuck up another booking?” Willam smirked, clicking onto her emails at the same time. Alaska rolled her eyes.

“Do you think we have a combined IQ of four? No, of course not,” she laughed, then looked up at Sharon. “It’s going to be good old-fashioned sneaking around. Sharon will get a double bed so we just have to make sure the hallways are clear every time I’m going to hers. It’ll be easy.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be very easy. I mean it’s not like the entire party and all their advisors are going to be staying in the same hotel or anything,” Willam looked pointedly at her, feeling a little exasperated.

“Trust me, Willam, we’ll be careful. Just like we’ve been these past five months.”

Trying not to shake her head, Willam just exhaled deeply. She was happy for them both, but she was probably never going to stop worrying about their ticking time bomb of a relationship and how long they both had until they were found out. If they weren’t worried about it, then surely someone had to be? Looking across at them both, she bit her tongue as she saw that Alaska had turned around in her chair and now had both of her hands in Sharon’s, the minister leaning in giving her a sweet kiss. Out of respect, or perhaps nausea, Willam averted her eyes back to her monitor. Sure enough, the polls were there in a mass email from Bianca, along with a reminder of the bi-elections in May. It seemed ridiculously early for a reminder already, but Willam supposed that was how politics worked. Support had to be drummed up well in advance, and she reasoned that she’d probably be approached at the conference by a lot of hopeful potential MPs wanting to worm their way into the House of Commons. Clicking on the PDF file, she scrolled through pie charts and graphs searching for relevant statistics. She was suddenly distracted by a ringing from the phone in Sharon’s office. Looking up, she furrowed her brow at Alaska and Sharon, similar confusion painted over both their faces. Calls weren’t supposed to go through to Sharon’s office unless they had been vetted by Jinkx, and Jinkx had already left. If it was Bianca or somebody else from within the party, they’d contact Sharon’s iPhone.

“Hmm. Weird. I’ll answer that and then we can head back to mine? I’m making lamb,” Sharon said proudly, then swung her legs off Alaska’s desk and walked through to her office.

As she heard Sharon’s muffled voice answer the phone, Willam finally found the statistics she’d been looking for. Screwing her face up, she slowly read the numbers in front of her again. They couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be possible.

“Alaska,” Willam yelled over to her friend. “Have you read the polls Bianca sent over?”

Alaska simply shook her head. Willam spoke again. “Read them and go to page 56. I’m not quite sure I’m seeing what’s in front of me.”

Alaska dutifully followed Willam’s orders. Willam watched as she clearly reached the page she was talking about, her face completely falling in shock. “Oh shit. This is bad.”

As Willam turned to Sharon’s office, she was only shocked further when she saw the minister standing by her desk, her face as white as a sheet and the minister very visibly shaken. Concerned, Willam rose from her seat and made her way to her office, Alaska following behind. As they walked into the glass-fronted office, Sharon turned to both of them, her expression one of fear.

“What is it? Who was phoning?”

Sharon wordlessly pressed a single button on the phone and the conversation began to replay.

“Hello, Sharon Needles, Minister for Dosac?”

A male voice- aggressive, hissing. “You’re fucking dead the next time I see you, you fucking traitor bitch.”

“…sorry?”

“You fucking heard me, you cunt. I’m going to throw acid in your face then make sure you’re fucking hanged, you quisling bitch.”

“How did you get this number?”

“You should be more concerned about the fact that I’m going to make sure you fucking die, you terrorist sympathiser cunt! Watch your fucking back.”

With that, there was the sound of an empty telephone line, the flatline a start contrast to Willam’s own heart, which was hammering in her ribcage. Alaska, who had previously been standing with her mouth wide in shock, omitted a little squeak and rushed behind the desk to hold her girlfriend, the both of them visibly upset. Death threats to politicians were unfortunately common, but this was the first time Willam had ever had to deal with a physical phone call, most of the abuse being able to be ignored on social media. This was different- a voice, a person, someone who had physically sought out a phone number that was incredibly difficult to obtain, and this made Willam nervous. Looking at Sharon again, she could see that she was still fearful, her whole body language tense. Alaska was crying, her frame shaking as she tried to quieten her sobs, tears rolling down her face and dropping onto the floor.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you,” she whispered, her voice shaky and breath irregular. Sniffing, her voice suddenly grew dark and, releasing her hold on Sharon, she turned to Willam.

“I want that fucking scum put away tonight. I’m phoning Bianca. We need to track the number. I’ll fucking kill him,” she said, storming out of the office. Willam had never seen Alaska this angry- her fists were physically clenched as if she was about to fight, and her jaw was clenched tight.

“Alaska, don’t phone Bianca-” Willam began, as Alaska returned to the office with her mobile. Seething, Alaska whipped round to Willam, her eyes wide in their sockets.

“What the fuck? Of course I’m phoning Bianca, this is fucking serious! We need to get this fucking rotted, disgusting filth locked away! How the fuck are you okay with this?!”

“I’m not okay with it at all!” Willam cried, instantly realising she needed to calm Alaska down. Sharon looked resignedly at her girlfriend.

“Baby, it’s okay, I’m fine-”

“No, you’re not fine! You’ve just received a threat on your life, how can you be fine?!” Alaska yelled in outrage as she tried to scroll at her phone but was prevented by her hands shaking furiously.

“Alaska, you need to calm down,” Willam said softly, Sharon stepping out from behind her desk and wrapping her arms around the taller girl. Heaving a huge sigh Alaska sank into the hug, her face a sort of mix of seething and upset. Taking a moment to clear her head, Willam spoke again.

“Look, I’ll phone Bianca. I’ll also ask her to phone the police. She should have contacts that won’t leak so we can ensure this stays completely out of the media. We’ll make sure you’ve got security- I’ll phone the lobby and make sure you’ve got someone that’ll take you to your car when you leave the offices. That’s all we can do at the moment,” Willam added apologetically, feeling bad for Sharon. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sighing, Sharon nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just never happened to me before, you know, an actual phone call. It was just an empty threat, these things always are. I mean, you’re not exactly going to warn a politician before you kill them, are you?”

Alaska tensed up. “Sharon, don’t say that.”

“Well all I’m saying is, they know that this shit is only going to result in tighter security. It’s just an empty threat, they want to see me rattled. Which is exactly what I’m not going to give them.”

Willam reflected on what the man had said. “Do you think this is about all you’re doing for the refugees?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just his choice of words. Traitor, quisling, terrorist sympathiser. They’re classic EDL buzzwords for anyone that wants to let in any migrants at all, never mind ones fleeing war.”

Sharon was silent, looking to the floor in contemplation. Willam took that as an invitation to continue. “Would it be an idea to quieten down on the housing policy and maybe focus on another area of social affairs? We don’t want this to become anything bigger.”

Sharon narrowed her eyes at Willam, her gaze snapping up from the floor. “No. This is exactly what bigots like him want, they want me to stop trying to do something. In a few months, people like him are still going to be as angry about this policy as they are now. There is no way I’m letting this derail anything.”

Still a little uncomfortable, Willam watched as Sharon sighed, then pulled out of the hug and gave Alaska a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure you want to still go to the party conference?” Willam asked hesitantly, Sharon instantly shutting her down.

“Willam, I said this wouldn’t interrupt anything, okay? I’m fine. Everything is business as usual.”

Sucking a breath in through gritted teeth, Willam decided to broach the subject of the polls. “Okay, well if everything is still business as usual. I should probably let you know…you’re ten points behind in the polls.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open. “Ten points, what the fuck?! What the hell have I done, blended a baby, a puppy and a kitten together in a fucking KitchenAid?!”

Alaska sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “It might be because of your policy. The public knew you were left wing, but could deal with it as long as you weren’t doing anything. People are annoyed you’re doing your job.”

“Fucking fabulous,” Sharon hissed. Alaska shot Willam a glare as if to thank her for ruining their previously romantic evening. Feeling guilty, Willam crossed to Sharon’s desk and picked up her handbag.

“Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out and fix it. I’ll even get Courtney involved,” Willam said as she handed the minister her bag, regretting her last sentence as soon as it was out her mouth. “You guys just go enjoy your night, okay? Or at least try.”

Both Sharon and Alaska gave her a smile of gratitude, Sharon taking her back from Willam’s grasp. “Thanks, Willam. You’re a gift.”

Alaska smirked, seemingly a little more cheerful. “We’ll be thinking of you when she’s got three fingers in my-”

“GO HOME,” Willam yelled, cutting her friend off, her disgust muted at her relief that the couple seemed a lot happier again as they both laughed softly, linked arms and began to leave the office.

The calm and quiet of the department contrasted the instant pile-up of tasks in Willam’s head. Heading to Sharon’s phone and ringing down to the lobby for security, she resigned herself to the fact that it was going to be a long night.

***

Heaving her trundle suitcase down the very final step in her stairwell, Willam pushed open her door and entered into the crisp morning air. It was, for now, a cold day, but there was still the promise of it getting warmer as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Rubbing her eyes a little, she stifled a yawn. As she looked at the time, Willam cursed whoever had booked the hotel so far away. Still, she was a little excited at the prospect of getting out of London. Sharon’s driver was meant to be picking them all up at 6am, but Willam had been texted by Alaska and made aware they were running a little late.

Willam was pretty exhausted. She’d been up all night analysing the polls and figuring out a way to combat Sharon’s falling approval ratings, finally coming up with an answer. She supposed she would have been quicker if she’d contacted Courtney and told her all that had gone on at the department after she’d left, but she hadn’t wanted to ruin her night with the comms girls. Besides, the thought of spending time alone with Courtney wasn’t exactly the most appealing thing to her right now.

Her thought process was interrupted as a sleek black car with blacked-out windows pulled up into Willam’s street.

Well, it’s either Sharon or a long-overdue hitman.

As the car arrived beside her, a single window was lowered to reveal Sharon in a huge pair of sunglasses. Beaming a smile, she shouted out to Willam just as the boot of the car popped open.

“Get in loser, we’re going to engage in stimulating, politically-driven conferences and debates!”

As Willam rolled her eyes and lifted her case into the boot, sitting it beside Alaska’s and Sharon’s, she heard the muffled voice of Alaska from inside the car say something about constantly wondering why she was attracted to her girlfriend. Opening the other side door, Willam climbed inside and sat opposite the couple.

“Hey. How was your night?” Willam asked politely, feeling small-talk would be appropriate before she launched into work matters. Alaska gave a long-suffering sigh and took Sharon’s hand.

“We ended up getting a sub-par chippy because someone’s lamb shanks were so raw they could’ve walked out the fucking oven.”

“Hey, nobody ever told me you had to cook lamb for approximately six hundred years!” Sharon cried incredulously, then laughing as Alaska broke out into a smile beside her. Feeling it was too early for such displays of affection, Willam decided to change topic.

“So, before we do anything else, I think I figured out the drop in the polls,” she began, getting her phone out to illustrate her plan before hearing Sharon groan opposite her.

“Willam, it’s six in the morning. Can we at least wait til the sun’s up before we start talking work?”

“Hey, I’m proud of this idea! I think you’ll like it,” Willam insisted. As Sharon simply rolled her eyes in response, Willam carried on. “Your decrease in approval ratings is mainly amongst the over 40s demographic. So, instead of trying to win them back, we’re going to balance them with the 18 to 25s.”

“Fuck,” Alaska sighed, Sharon bringing her hands up to her face then dragging them down her cheeks. “Will, they never fucking vote.”

“Only because nobody’s connecting with them! Now, we know they like Sharon from the response she gets on twitter. And what is the thing that most 18 to 25 year olds connect with the most?”

“…good policies on higher education?” Sharon tried hopefully.

“Memes!” Willam declared proudly. Sharon and Alaska stared at her as if she’d just grown another head.

“I’ve woken up on another plane of reality,” Sharon blinked blankly.

“Is it not kind of insulting to say that the only way Sharon can connect with younger voters is through memes?” Alaska tilted her head a little.

“Insulting to Sharon or insulting to- you know what, it doesn’t matter, the point is that the memes are politically relevant! I set you up a snapchat account and all you’ve got to do is post some funny, wholesome pictures or videos every now and again. The kids will love you, turn you into a massive meme queen, become more engaged and invested in you than they already are, hype you up no end on social media and increase your approval ratings!”

“Um. What the fuck is snapchat,” Sharon asked, her face blank. Sighing and shaking her head, Willam gestured for Sharon to give her her phone and downloaded the app as Alaska patiently explained how it worked to her girlfriend. Soon enough, Willam was signing into the account she’d made for her boss.

“Okay,” she said, handing it back to Sharon. “Now, do a video or something. Say you’re on your way to the party conference and are excited to hear everyone’s ideas and visions for the future, blah blah blah, political horseshit.”

Looking a little nervous, Sharon positioned the screen across from her face and gave a false smile as she held down the video button.

“Hi everyone, Sharon Needles here and I am on my way to Bournemouth for the party conference! I am so excited to get down and start hearing everyone’s amazing ideas for the year ahe- the video stopped.”

Exasperated, Willam rested her head in her hands. Alaska simply laughed affectionately.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it, sweetie,” she smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “But in all seriousness, this isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had, Wills. How much of it was really down to Courtney?”

Willam felt as if she’d suddenly choked on something. “Oh, um, I never had to contact her in the end. The idea sort of came to me.”

“Speaking of contacting people, did you get in touch with Bianca about that phone call?” Sharon asked, her voice suddenly grave. Willam had. Bianca had seemed a little rattled that whoever it was had managed to obtain a departmental phone number but was convinced it was nothing more than an empty threat, and Willam conveyed this to Sharon.

“She’s got someone at the Metropolitan working on it. Shouldn’t be too hard to trace the number once they phone the network provider,” she explained, her heart seizing up as she recognised the familiar new-build flats outside the window. “We should probably stop talking about this now that we’re at Courtney’s.”

“Why? Wasn’t she made aware?” Sharon asked, her voice turning a little stern.

Willam let out a sigh. “I didn’t tell her.”

“What? Why not?”

Because I’m scared to text her? Fire drill. “Because I don’t want this getting round the department more than it has to.”

Just as Sharon appeared satisfied with Willam’s answer, the car stopped right alongside Courtney, who was standing beside a huge suitcase, a smaller but very full backpack that was looped around its handles, and a Sainsbury’s bag that seemed to contain wellington boots. The small blonde beamed with joy, then rushed around the back to put everything into the boot.

“Jesus. What in fuck has she packed?” Alaska snorted an affectionate laugh as the boot slammed loudly from the back of the car and Courtney clambered into the seat beside Willam.

“Good morning, campers! Ah, I am so excited! This is going to be the best weekend,” she squealed happily, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“I hate to disappoint, Courtney, but I don’t know how exciting it’s going to be for you watching a bunch of speeches that are irrelevant to your line of work and watching me debate the assholes we share a party with.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not so bad. We’ve got the diversity disco tomorrow night,” Willam said dryly, her awe at the erratic planning of each conference growing more and more each year.

“Yeah, it’ll be surprisingly fun!” Courtney nodded enthusiastically. “Plus, all the other advisors are usually lovely! Trixie was saying last night that we needed to look out for one of her old friends from HR- Farrah, I’ve met her once or twice but had no idea she was a party member. Apparently she’s one of Sasha Velour’s girls and she’s sort of in at the deep end, so we need to look out for her.”

“Sasha Velour, ugh. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to work with her, she’s so pretentious. Like she could shoot explosive diarrhoea over the entire House of Commons and she’d still think she was the best person in the room,” Willam wrinkled her nose disdainfully. Sasha was one of the party’s many new arrivals after the expenses scandal those six months ago, and in that time Willam hadn’t been convinced by her at all. Her approval ratings seemed to be good, but any interview she did always seemed to make her come across as too hyper-intelligent for anyone else. Hell, she’d managed to out-smug Raja Gemini.

“I know Bianca got on at her for using too many long words in her interviews,” Alaska chipped in thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. From what I’ve seen in cabinet meetings she’s pretty quiet. Keeps herself to herself. She’s quite buddy with some of the other new ministers, but if all I’ve got to worry about this weekend is a party clique then I’m not worried. I survived high school, for Christ’s sake,” Sharon shrugged nonchalantly. “How long do we have in this car?”

Alaska checked her phone. “Two hours and twenty minutes.”

“I’m going to fucking kill myself.”

Courtney perked up. “Hey, I know what we can do to pass the time!”

Willam’s face grew scheming. “Oh shit, the game we used to play going up to MediaCity?”

“YES! Party political Guess Who,” Courtney replied, her face equally as mischievous. Turning to Sharon, she explained. “It’s like Guess Who, but with the members of the party.”

“Thanks, Courtney, I’m really glad you explained that to me,” Sharon deadpanned.  

“I’ll start then. I’m thinking of a cabinet minister,” Alaska smiled, giving nothing away.

“It’s Sharon,” Willam said instantly, earning her a weird look from Courtney.

“Fuck you, it’s not Sharon!” Alaska blurted out.

“Why would it be Sharon?” Courtney asked, her face still dumbfounded.

“She’s a fucking cabinet minister, isn’t she?” Willam stuttered, eager to cover up her misdemeanour. “Okay, is she a woman?”

“Yes.”

“What colour hair has she got?” Sharon asked, warming to the game.

“It’s yes or no questions only, you fucking amateur,” Willam joked. “Has she got brown hair?”

“Yep.”

“Well that narrows it down,” Courtney rolled her eyes. “Has she made a lot of media appearances in the last three months?”

Alaska narrowed her eyes in thought. “Not really.”

“Was she at last year’s party conference?”

Alaska snorted a laugh that very obviously gave something away. “Yes.”

“Did she make headlines for bringing a bunch of guys back to her hotel room she found on Tinder and riding each one of them like a pogo stick?” Willam cut in immediately.

“Yes!” Alaska blurted out excitedly.

“Is it our beloved Minister for International Trade, Miss Trinity Taylor?!” Courtney suddenly squealed, excitement getting the better of her. All four girls burst out laughing.

“Fuck you, Court, that was my answer!” Willam laughed, whacking her on the arm despite not knowing what possessed her to. Courtney simply batted her eyelashes at her.

“You snooze, you lose, babe!”

As the others kept laughing, Willam felt her heart freeze up. Did Courtney realise what she’d said? Inwardly, Willam shook her head. Of course she didn’t. It was just an offhand comment, something she obviously wouldn’t read into as much as Willam had and something that Willam was stupid for reading into anyway. Fire drill.

Two hours, twenty minutes and most of the cabinet members and MPs later, Sharon’s driver pulled up outside the Hilton they were to be staying at for the weekend. Courtney had been right; from the outside, at least, it did look good. Each floor was stacked high on top of the other, with chunky balconies outlining each one. It was very business-like but also classy, perfect for the weekend ahead. As Sharon’s driver opened the doors and a Hilton employee rushed to the boot to retrieve their luggage, the four made their way up the marble steps past a few hungover-looking smokers and into the hotel lobby, where Sharon took the lead in checking them all into their respective hotel rooms.

“On behalf of the Hilton, we’d like to wish you a very warm welcome and hope that you enjoy the conference,” the receptionist chirped, smiling as he slid four identical key cards over the countertop. “Your rooms are 505, 511, 512 and 513. We offer 24-hour room service although the front desk does close at midnight. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Sharon tilted her head. “Could I have a bottle of champagne sent up to room 512 at around six o’clock tonight please?”

The receptionist barely stopped himself from raising his eyebrows. “Absolutely, I can fix that for you right away Ms. Needles.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, turning away from the desk. Willam fixed her with a frown.

“A bottle of champagne? Are we in Empire?”

“What? It’s the party conference, let me live. ‘Party’ is right there in the phrase.”

“Right in front of ‘conference’,” Willam muttered under her breath. Scooping up the key cards from the reception desk, she shrugged. “Okay, Alaska, you take 511-”

Alaska gave her a grateful smile that thanked her without any words.

“- I’ll take 505 and Court can have-”

“Oh Christ, don’t put me anywhere near the number thirteen,” Courtney said, her voice a little panicked. Willam had forgot about Courtney’s large amount of superstitions. It was one of the things she found so endearing about her.

“Alright, Stevie Wonder,” Willam rolled her eyes to mask her affection, handing her the other key card. “Should we head up to the welcome address? We’ve still got half an hour but it’d be good to go and see who’s turned up.”

Nodding in agreement, Alaska dashed over to the porter who had stacked their suitcases high on a golden luggage trolley and told him which room they were all to go to. Once she’d ensured the safe arrival of their belongings, the four of them made their way to the lifts and travelled up several floors to a floor free of any hotel rooms; the doors opened to reveal a sort of holding area, with a slightly worn red carpet and cream wallpaper. That being said, Willam could hardly see most of her surroundings on account of the sheer volume of people currently in the room. Her observations were interrupted by a man in a smart suit who she vaguely recognised as one of the interns at Number Ten, handing her a sheet of paper.

“Welcome to the annual party conference!” he smiled, desperation to hopefully be picked up by an MP or a Minister so he could begin his ascent to the top of the political world seeping out of every pore. Willam cast a glance at the sheet, which appeared to be the agenda for the weekend.

“God, there’s entirely too much mingling going on in this room,” Sharon exhaled, her tone a little overwhelmed. “It’s like being in a snake pit.”

“Well look, there’s Latrice over there! She likes you, why don’t you go and chat to her?” Courtney pointed out the large, cheerful Communities and Local Government Minister, who was standing by the table of nibbles and laughing loudly with the girl serving behind it. Pulling a face and shrugging, Sharon straightened her posture and made her way over to Latrice, leaving Alaska, Courtney and Willam still hovering by the lifts. Willam watched as Alaska scanned the room, her eyes suddenly resting on someone and her face jolting in recognition. Faltering a little as she remembered the two girls beside her, Alaska began to slowly move towards who she’d seen.

“I’ve just spotted, um…someone I knew from uni. I’m just going to go catch up- you guys don’t mind, do you?”

Alaska barely gave either of them time to reply with a yes or no as she quickly disappeared into the crush of people. Curiosity piqued, Willam craned her neck in an attempt to see who Alaska had been so focused on, but it was impossible to see where Alaska had gone in the shifting crowd. Letting it drop, Willam became aware that only she and Courtney were left. Her palms began to sweat as she searched for something to say, but Courtney didn’t seem to feel as uncomfortable.

“Look, there’s Nina from Work and Pensions,” she kept her voice low as she subtly pointed to the new minister, who was standing on her own sipping from an orange juice and scanning the room. “Should we go say hi?”

Willam scoffed. “Nah. She won’t know who we are and to add to that, she’s isolated herself by choice. The rumour is that she smoked too much weed while she was at uni so she’s one of the most paranoid people you’ll ever meet. Fierce debater, though.”

Courtney’s eyes grew wide, a little shocked at the revelation. Calming herself and shrugging, she gave Willam a little smile. “Well, we can just keep each other company until the conference starts.”

Willam couldn’t control the way she beamed a smile back at her. Suddenly scrambling for conversation, Willam looked to the floor, a little nervous. “So, any big plans for tonight?”

Courtney bit her lip slightly. “I was thinking of heading to the SkyBar and trying to make some pals. I know there was some talk amongst the advisors for drinks after dinner. Sound good?”

Willam was only a little taken aback at Courtney’s invitation. Stammering a little, she pulled an apologetic face. “Sorry. I’m going to stay in and work on a little more analysis of this taxation policy that’s getting debated tomorrow. Try and conjure up a couple more figures for Sharon to throw in.”

Courtney momentarily looked as if she was injured. “Oh. Okay.”

Willam all but flinched, wondering what she’d done to result in Courtney’s drop in spirits. She was a breath away from trying to save the situation- perhaps saying she’d come for one single drink if only to see that smile reappear on Courtney’s face again- when she was stopped by a cry from within the crowd.

“Courtney?” came a soft, high voice, the words followed by a tiny blonde girl who looked entirely too young to be in politics. She wore a baby pink pencil skirt and suit jacket which were perfectly tailored, and her blonde hair hung in delicate waves framing her face. As she turned her head very slightly, the light hit her cheekbones in an almost blinding fashion, indicating that if politics didn’t work out she could always go into makeup artistry. If Willam hadn’t seen her before, Courtney certainly seemed as if she knew her.

“Farrah! It’s so good to see you, I had no idea you were working for the party until Trixie mentioned it!” she beamed, happiness restored as she gave the girl a quick hug.

“Yeah, well, Sasha scouted me after someone obviously noticed my performance in admin over at human resources. But oh God, Courtney, there’s so much! I feel like I’m constantly behind and everyone is so much more advanced. I mean Naysha- you know Cynthia’s Naysha over at International Development?- rumour is she’s getting considered for an advisory job at number ten,” Farrah reeled off, anxiety riddling her tone. Willam’s ears perked up at the mention of the number ten job, her detached interest which she’d held previously suddenly increasing. Farrah seemed not to realise the impact of her words and was still carrying on. “Meanwhile I’m still over here not really sure how to use the photocopier! Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”

With that, Farrah turned to Willam and warmly stuck a hand out for her to shake. Hesitantly, Willam gave a tight smile and took Farrah’s hand. “I’m Willam. I work with Court, I’m Sharon Needles’ political advisor.”

Farrah’s face sort of sank, the smile that had previously been plastered to it melting away. “Oh God. I should have registered. It’s Dosac you guys work for, right?”

Starting to feel a little like she had the power to ruin everyone’s mood, Willam nodded, her brow furrowed. Farrah pulled a sort of pained expression.

“What is it, Farrah?” Courtney asked, concern written all over her face.

“God. I mean I shouldn’t care, right? It’s just politics after all, I mean that’s what happens, isn’t it? But oh God, you’re both going to have to deal with the fallout and I just can’t help but feel partly responsible because I helped her write it…I mean I proof-read it, but that’s still some responsibility, right?” the small blonde stammered, her face only growing more and more fretful.

“Farrah. Talk to me,” Courtney asked, a frown deep set on her face.

“Jesus, are you crying?” Willam tilted her head, awe momentarily taking the place of concern.

Sniffling a little, Farrah took a deep breath. “Sasha’s speech later today. It’s about politics and the media. Sharon doesn’t really come off well in it.”

Willam gave a deep sigh, bringing both hands up behind her head. This was all she needed to add to her already sky-high stress levels. “What exactly does she say?”

As soon as Farrah opened her mouth, she immediately shut it again as her gaze focussed on someone just over Willam’s shoulder. As Willam turned to acknowledge whoever it was, she came near face-to-face with two girls at the same time. Appearance-wise, they couldn’t have contrasted more; the one on the left had flawless dark skin, with colourful makeup that contrasted her pure white shift dress. Her dreadlocks hung over her shoulders and down her back, the little gold embellishments hanging from the odd dread giving Willam the impression of a sort of Christmas tree. The girl on the right, however, immediately raised Willam’s hackles despite her unthreatening appearance- a huge, candyfloss mane of white-blonde hair sat on her shoulders and only accentuated her pale face, which was painted with just a simple red lip and two huge wings of eyeliner. She wore a plain teal suit dress, which was impeccably ironed and crease-free. Willam looked down at her own slightly crumpled white shirt and black pencil skirt self-consciously. The two girls were recognisable as Shea Coulee and Sasha Velour respectively. Like Sharon, they’d both been new starts all those months ago after the expenses scandal- Shea taking up the post as Minister of Defence and Sasha filling the vacancy for Minister of Justice. They had both been strong presences in parliament, managing to gain considerable traction on policies they’d dreamed up, and their approval ratings were good amongst the public. However, Willam had heard small snippets of rumours that flew around the party indicating that Shea and Sasha were more than simply colleagues. If anything was going on between them, however, they didn’t show it as they stood beside each other, their posture and expressions statuesque.

“Farrah! There you are, we were wondering where you’d managed to get to,” Sasha smiled pleasantly, her voice deep and placid.

“I was just talking to Willam and Courtney. Sharon’s girls,” Farrah stuttered, hasty to conceal that she’d revealed anything to them both just moments ago. Sasha raised a single eyebrow in interest, turning to Shea and sharing a look that seemed to be a mixture of amusement and something else Willam couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Sorry, is there a problem?” Willam couldn’t help but challenge. Sasha, for her part, looked taken aback at Willam’s forthright manner. Her smile was still calm and her tone was even as she spoke.

“Not at all! If anything I think it’s sweet that Sharon still has advisors after her performance so far in her position,” Sasha said, her level tone hiding the bite to her words. Courtney narrowed her eyes.

“She has three advisors, actually, so she’s not exactly short of allies.”

“Tell that to our party, girl,” Shea laughed, throwing her head back. “Three advisors and she still manages to fuck up. That’s kinda bad.”

“I wouldn’t call getting approval from a number of European leaders fucking up,” Willam said, trying her best to keep her tone calm but her flared nostrils potentially giving her away.

“And there was me thinking Sharon’s approval ratings had plummeted. But maybe I have my numbers wrong,” Sasha said lightly, Willam wondering how she managed to make a shrug sarcastically apologetic. “Anyway, they’re letting people in to the welcome address now so I was thinking of getting going, Farrah? But it was lovely to meet you both. If you’d ever like to come spend a day or two over in Justice, you’d be more than welcome!”

Shea gave Sasha an amused smirk. “What she really means is, if you find yourself wanting to work for a department that’s actually going places, her door’s always open.”

Willam’s face scrunched up in distaste as Sasha gave a disapproving look and batted Shea lightly on the arm. “Your mouth is going to get you in mad amounts of trouble one day, I swear.”

As they moved away, Farrah’s apologetic goodbye and a promise to see them both later muffled what Shea replied, but Willam could have sworn it was something about Sasha having never had any complaints about her mouth before. Her eyes were still narrowed and trained on Sasha like a sniper as she spoke.

“I knew there was a reason that stuck-up bitch didn’t sit well with me. What’s the damage control plan?”

Courtney furrowed her brow. “There’s not much we can do except make Sharon aware. We can’t control what Sasha’s going to say, unless we can find something on her?”

Willam raised both eyebrows. “I don’t know if we can get any solid evidence that her and Shea are fucking but surely their interactions are evidence enough.”

Courtney went to speak then stopped, her words getting caught in her throat. To Willam’s curiosity, her expression became briefly antagonised as she paused, then opened her mouth again. “How come you can see what’s going on with them clear as day but you don’t see…”

She sort of trailed off, expression becoming even more pained as something stopped her speech in her tracks. Confused, Willam prompted her. “Don’t see what?”

Courtney sighed and simply shook her head. Before Willam could press her about it any more, they found themselves both being shoved forward a little in the crowd as everyone began to make their way into the conference hall. The flow of the human tide brought Sharon back to them as they shuffled forward towards the doorway like cattle.

“Okay. Issue. Latrice told me there’s a rumour that Sasha’s speech is basically just her dragging me for a considerable amount of time,” Sharon said quietly, her face not giving away her obvious nerves.

“Yeah. We heard it from Farrah, so I don’t think there’s any element of fiction to it,” Courtney grimaced, hating to be the bearer of bad news. Sharon let out a huge breath.

“Fuck. So I’ve got death threats, falling approval ratings, and now my own party hates me.”

“DEATH THREATS?” Courtney all but shouted, causing a few heads to turn her way. Willam cringed, trying her best to shush her and turning to Sharon.

“Thanks, Sharon.”

“She’s an advisor, she deserves to know!”

“Deserves to know what? Did you keep something from me?” Courtney turned to Willam, suddenly accusatory. Willam found herself hoping she was somehow standing above a trapdoor that would miraculously open and lower her into the void.

“Look, I’ll tell you later,” Willam insisted, desperate to placate her. “For now, let’s just hear what the Chancellor of the Exchequer is going to drone on at us about through his fucking nasal passages for the next half hour.”

Willam didn’t miss the way Courtney’s shoulders slumped, her body language completely defeated. She felt a stab of guilt at her heart, wondering if she should regret not telling Courtney. On one hand, she truly did believe that keeping the death threat between the three of them was the best way to handle it. However, something in her gut made her question if part of her had just really wanted to keep her distance from Courtney. Fire drill? I don’t even know anymore.

Willam’s thoughts were interrupted as the three of them were joined by Alaska just as they crossed the boundary of the conference hall and took their seats relatively near the back of the room. Sitting on her chair with a thud, Alaska leaned into Sharon’s ear and whispered something. Sharon’s face became outraged.

“What the fuck, why did everybody else find out about the bloody content of this speech before I did?”

Willam leaned forward to face Alaska. “Who the hell did you find out from?!”

“My friend from high school told me. He-”

Willam cut her off, suddenly confused. “I thought you said it was a friend from uni?”

Alaska paused for a second and blinked, seemingly realising she’d slipped up. “Did I? I meant high school. Anyway, he told me. Everybody seems to have heard, so maybe we need to think of a strategy to deal with the fallout?”

Sharon nodded, her expression determined. She seemed eager to get back on top, and Willam felt a sudden fire and drive to help her get one up on the other members of the party.

For now, though, they had to sit through an old, rich white man loving the sound of his own voice for a considerable length of time. Willam concluded it was just like any other day in parliament.

***

Trying their best to keep their heels quiet against the wooden floor, the four girls snuck into the very back of the hall and sat down gently on four available wooden seats. Willam craned her neck to the very front of the room, where she could see a single long table where the chair sat with Sasha. She seemed at ease and completely nonplussed by the situation, sorting her index cards out calmly while her face gave nothing away. Fishing the weekend’s agenda from her bag, Willam studied the description again.

16.00- 16.30 – Hall 2 – Minister for Justice

Secretary of State Sasha Velour discusses the public’s view of politicians in the media, taking different landmark events from the political calendar and offering her own analysis as to how they in turn affected the approval ratings of the party.

Sighing and shaking her head, Willam could only hope Sharon didn’t get brought up as many times as people seemed to be implying. All day she’d been an absolute jittery, rage-filled nightmare; every speech the four of them had sat in had featured impatient foot-tapping indicating that Sharon’s attention was miles away. She hadn’t touched any food at lunchtime either. Willam just had to thank God that she didn’t have any debates to take part in until tomorrow, as she’d probably just open her mouth and start spewing particles of her own brain. Looking at Sharon now, Willam could see that she was just staring steadfastly straight ahead, her eyes trained on the other young minister. Willam watched Alaska look nervously at her girlfriend, then as she lifted a single hand and made to hold it in Sharon’s. Locking eyes with her, Willam gave Alaska a warning look and, sighing, the other advisor backed down. Willam felt bad, but it was for their own good- the hall was filled with people, and a gesture like that would have been far, far too obvious.

The small murmur in the room quietened to a complete silence as the chair took to the podium and introduced Sasha, Willam’s gaze immediately snapping over to Shea who was sitting on the other side of the room and whose deafening claps soared over the polite applause of the rest of the crowd.

Taking a confident stance at the podium, Sasha smiled pleasantly at the chair.

“First of all I’d like to start by thanking the chairman for such a warm introduction, and by thanking all of you for coming along. I promise I won’t keep you all for long, as I know we have a big night ahead of us!”

WIllam grimaced as the crowd gave a polite chuckle. “Fucking get on with it, then.”

Pausing as she shuffled her index cards, Sasha looked down at the podium, then looked back up at the crowd. “Politics and the media. It’s a relationship that, it could be argued, is incredibly symbiotic. Without politics, would the media have any reason to exist? Without the media, politics, yes, would still exist, but would it be the democratic institution it has come to be today? The media has become one of the most important vehicles through which politics is conveyed, and for one simple reason; public engagement. The media is vastly accessible to the majority of the population through newspapers, television, radio, and more recently, social media.”

“We know what fucking media entails,” Willam hissed under her breath, perhaps a little too loudly as an elderly MP turned around from the row in front and gave her a disapproving look.

“Why is this accessibility so important? Well, it only increases the scrutiny that politicians- us- are put under by the very people that have voted us into our position. The electorate put their trust in us and, through the media, they are given a chance to check up on the people they used their vote on. It’s only reasonable that they expect us to be responsible, respectable members of parliament, after all, we are representing them. We reflect our electorate, and in turn, our electorate reflects us.”

Willam leaned slightly to her left and whispered to Sharon. “She can’t be mentioning you. She’s been rabbiting on for five minutes and all she’s done is use stupid, meaningless phrases.”

Sharon frowned and made to shush her as Sasha carried on.

“Take, for example, the opposition’s leadership contest. Phi Phi O’Hara’s behaviour towards her competitor, Manila Luzon, showed a level of childishness, churlishness, and just downright sexism. How is this reflected in her electorate? Well, we know both Piers Morgan and Katie Hopkins endorsed her campaign…so I shouldn’t need to say too much more to illustrate my point!”

This time, a bubble of genuine laughter burst in the hall, Willam’s expression stony in the face of it all. She didn’t have to turn to look at Sharon to know that her face was the exact same, the tension radiating from her like heat from an oven.

“Now we can laugh at situations like these- except when they’re occurring in our own party. As members, MPs and Ministers, we should constantly be aiming to do our electorate proud. We must always remember that whatever we are doing, it reflects on the whole party. And this is why in every situation we are in, we must remember that our actions have wider consequences than simply ourselves,” Sasha stopped, moved one index card in front of the other and carried on, her tone now one of pride instead of neutrality. “For example, our minister for defence, Shea Coulee. Within her first month of appointment, as I’m sure you’ll all know, Ms. Coulee flew out to Syria to witness the effects that drone strikes from our country had had on innocent communities. Within a month of her arrival back in the UK, her department had drawn up a piece of legislation that should have ensured tighter control and accuracy of drone strikes. We know now that the legislation was blocked by opposing parties- disappointing, yes, but what couldn’t have been predicted was the overwhelming public support as a result. Defence had previously been a department that many wished didn’t exist- an area of the government which was cold and lacked humanity. Ms. Coulee, through media appearances and connection with the public through platforms such as hustings, surgeries and even on Twitter, has managed to bring humanity, dignity and warmth to a position that many were too afraid to fill.”

Willam looked over once again at Shea, whose face was lit up in gratitude at the glowing praise. Just as she was about to roll her eyes, Willam was jolted back into attention by Sasha’s next sentence.

“Dignity is one of the most important qualities to possess in our area of work, and that’s why I was saddened when I watched the events of Sharon Needles’ Daily Mail interview and its aftermath.”

Willam instantly felt every single muscle in her body tense up, the blood coursing through her veins. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Sharon, who had sucked in a tremendous amount of air at once through her nostrils. A few heads turned around in their seats to crane their necks in the direction of Sharon and her advisors. Unable to move in her seat, Willam could only listen to the rest of the speech.

“True, she opened the door to a conversation that really needed to be had- the staggering amount of sexism politicians face from the media every day is vast…however, that’s a speech for another day!” the audience laughed again and Willam had to fight the urge not to pick up her chair and start smashing their moronic heads in. “But the thing that I felt really undermined her point was the way she conveyed her anger. She could have stayed and debated Shangela Wadely. She could have de-railed the interview into a really productive discussion. But instead, she stormed out. She voided the chance of gaining something really positive out of a bad interview. Through sheer luck, Chad Michaels had wanted to highlight the same thing but the party has to wonder- what would have happened if Ms. Michaels had not invited Ms. Needles onto the news? The integrity and public view of the party was thrown into disarray. Would we all be free to walk out of any interview we choose, to refuse to answer questions simply because we didn’t like them? Are we all free to speak how we like on media appearances, to swear as Ms. Needles did on Radio Five Live? As politicians we are always eager to relate to the public, but should our endeavours to be relatable go as far as being brash or being crude?”

“This bitch seems to talk entirely in rhetorical questions,” Willam hissed to nobody in particular, her resentment growing with each line of Sasha’s speech. The Justice minister carried on.

“We know that Ms. Needles’ endeavours have clearly failed, hence the fall in approval ratings next to Phi Phi O’Hara. But is this solely due to the attempt to be relatable? It is likely that it has more to do with the leaking of the Prime Minister’s legacy, which we now know came from her department. Months of work from advisors at number 10 gone completely down the drain, and it should serve as a reminder to us all to tighten the security and our protocol within our departments, to ensure that the lines between civil servants and political workers are made abundantly clear. With this error of judgement-”      

“Fuck this. I’m not staying to have my character assassinated any longer,” Sharon suddenly hissed through gritted teeth, all at once snatching her bag up from the floor and walking out of the row she sat in, not even caring about the looks she drew from at least the three rows of chairs in front. Panicked, Willam looked across at Courtney, whose gaze was fixed on Alaska who was following her girlfriend out of the room as if attached by a string. Making her own decision, Willam jumped up from her chair and made her way to the exit, hearing Courtney’s heels scraping across the wooden floor approximately a second afterwards. Bursting through the double doors, she was grateful to see that Alaska had restrained herself, and was standing not too close to a deflated Sharon who was slumped against the wall. Willam opened her mouth to speak, but Sharon got there first.

“Courtney, could you please phone Jinkx and tell her we need all hands on deck to firefight this. Pre-warn her. Phone Bianca as well and see what the line is. Alaska, could you nip down to reception and ask if they can bump our-” Sharon suddenly coughed very violently in an attempt to cover the mistake Willam had already heard. “- my champagne order forward to five o’clock? I feel as if I need it and about twenty Valium.”

Obediently, Courtney retrieved her phone from her bag and crossed to a quieter end of the corridor to make the phone call. With the other advisor gone, Alaska risked a squeeze of Sharon’s hand and a quick kiss on her cheek before she dashed across into the lift. With just Willam and Sharon left, Sharon tore her hands through her long, ice-grey hair and gave a heart-wrenching sigh. Willam felt for her.

“Hey. It’ll be okay, you know,” Willam braved a small smile which she hoped looked reassuring. “Tomorrow is a new day and you just have to go out there and do what you do best. Lacerate that cotton-wool haired bitch in the debate and then kill your speech. It’s a bump, but you can redeem yourself in less than 24 hours.”

Sharon gave Willam a sort of helpless look, her blue eyes seeming more like pools than their usual ice. “It’s not that I’m worried about. I know I’m good, I know I’ll be fine tomorrow. I just…have I really been as bad as Sasha said? Have I really been that shit for the party?”

Willam’s face instantly contorted in disbelief. “Oh, God, no! Sharon, you’ve been the best thing that’s happened to this party since you arrived. Bitch just needed someone to attack and she’s jealous you’ve had more media appearances than any other minister so she spun everything you’ve done into something bad.”

“I just feel like I’ve let everybody down,” Sharon’s voice was flat, and Willam had to fight the weird urge she had to hug her.

“Listen. Bianca Del Rio scouted you out because she saw something special in you. And when you came to Dosac, everyone else saw it too. Well, Alaska more than most, but anyway,” Willam threw in a joke in an attempt to cheer the minister up and earned herself a small quirk of a smile at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. “And the public saw it more than anyone. Okay, your approval ratings dropped, but whose don’t? It’s just a case of finding your feet again, and you can do that. We all believe in you, Sharon. You’ve not let anyone down.”

Her smile small but still present, Sharon pushed herself off of her leaning position on the wall and stood with a little more poise. “You know, it seems strange, but for someone who started off as my harshest critic I can really always count on you to cheer me up.”

Willam bristled a bit. “Yeah, well. Shit evolves. We all came from fish once.”

Sharon snorted a laugh, then composed herself. “Well, I’m grateful for you anyway.”

Allowing herself a smile, Willam looked over at the corner of the room from where Courtney was making her way back to the two girls.

“Okay, so Jinkx is already on it- calls are coming in already, apparently- but the line Bianca gave them is that this does not affect the validity or credibility of your stance or policies in any way, and the party is not split,” she addressed Sharon, then pulled a face as her tone became concerned. “Bianca is livid at Sasha. She said something about her being so intent on dividing the party into pieces that she’s going to cut up her dead body into similar pieces before she dissolves it in acid to make the murder look like an accident.”

Raising her eyebrows, Willam gave a shrug. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like Bianca to me.”

“Well, ladies, it’s only quarter past four,” Sharon said, the confidence back in her voice. “And we’ve suddenly got a bit of free time on our hands. I suggest we drink until we can only see in greyscale.”

Courtney’s face lit up before Willam made the same feeble excuse she’d given to Courtney before. Really the truth was that the less time she spent around the other advisor the better, the entire day already seeming like some slow, painful water torture with every second she was around Courtney’s perfume, smile or bright eyes.

Excuses and goodbyes made for the evening, Willam found herself in the hotel lift being elevated towards a night of room service, a cold shower, and shitty TV game shows.

It really was the glamour that she loved the most about her job.

***

Willam lay completely awake, her eyes burning as they bore into the darkness that hung above her head. Casting her eye to the only light source in the room, she gave a loud sigh when she saw that the numbers on the digital clock- the only light source in the room- read that it was one in the morning. Exasperated, Willam turned over in the huge double bed the hotel had provided her. There was nothing wrong with it whatsoever; the sheets were soft and the mattress was comfy, but Willam had been kept awake for a couple of reasons. One of which had been the loud moaning and banging of the headboard that had started up just as Willam had originally decided to head to bed, all interspersed with cries of Sharon’s name that made Willam want to just die. Around five minutes into the ordeal, Willam decided that she’d had enough, turned over to face her bedside table and reached for the hotel phone. Punching in the room number of the source of the banging, she sighed with relief when things in the next room fell silent and a clearly irritated Alaska picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Oh I’m sorry, I thought this was the room of Minister for Social Affairs and Citizenship Sharon Needles?” Willam sing-songed down the phone, delighting when she heard Alaska’s voice catch in her throat on the other end of the line. “Don’t shit yourself, bitch. It’s me. But be more fucking subtle. Or fuck more subtly. I’m scarred for life here, I’ve got fucking PTSD. Post traumatic…scissoring disorder.”

Willam could practically hear Alaska rolling her eyes. “You’re a first class cunt, you know that?”

“Night night, sleep tight, hope your sex was shite,” Willam deadpanned, before crashing the phone against the receiver and turning over once more in bed.

That had been the only distraction of the evening that Willam could physically prevent or even interrupt. But for the rest of her attempts at sleep she’d been tortured by her own thoughts. Primarily (or at least that’s what she tell herself) thoughts of Sasha’s speech ran riot in her mind, Willam feeling more and more irritated with each passing minute at the Justice Minister’s audacity to attack Sharon as she had done. The fact that Sharon had had to follow Darienne meant that anything would have been an improvement, a fucking mammal with a head, but Sharon had really taken a failing department and launched it into the stratosphere. She couldn’t understand where Sasha’s remarks had come from, and Willam was convinced that Sharon had been doing a formidable job. She’d been fruitlessly grasping at ways Sharon could get back at her the next day, interspersed with stabs of guilt at the thought of resorting to childish point-scoring. Still, if they weren’t fighting fair then Willam was prepared to be as petty as was allowed.

Every so often these thoughts of irritation would be balanced by stomach-churning thoughts that made Willam’s heart feel constricted and panicky. Today was possibly the most time she’d spent in Courtney’s vicinity for quite a long time. It was easy to avoid her at work because she could just escape to her desk and sit and become engrossed in her own jobs. But today had been exhausting, and every single thing Courtney did managed to make Willam’s heart ache all the more. Why the fuck could she not just get over the stupidity of her feelings? She’d been distancing herself from Courtney for about a month and a half now, but the desired effect- that she’d be over her by now- just wasn’t happening. There was a particularly scary thought that barged into Willam’s brain at around midnight, which appeared in a sort of scary whisper.

If I can’t get over my feelings for her, I just need to tell her about them.

Willam had physically grit her teeth, helplessly pulling her pillow over her ears in an attempt to keep the thoughts away to no avail. How could she even have thought a thing like that? How would that be successful in any way? There was no way Courtney would react well to such a thing, let alone return her feelings. But memories stabbed at her mind, little small things that Courtney probably didn’t think twice about but things that Willam clung to like a comfort blanket. The biggest one was their kiss at Christmastime, but there were other occurrences too- meaningful looks, awkward blushes, cryptic sentences which had been started and then dropped.

Stop this.

Closing her eyes again, Willam attempted to clear her head. One of the very few helpful things her mum taught her when she was little was to count to the highest number she could think of until she got to sleep, so for possibly the millionth time that evening Willam began to go through the number line obediently like a small child.

She’d got to possibly 103 when there was a whisper of a knock at her door, so small that Willam couldn’t be sure she’d heard it until it came again, a little louder but still incredibly hesitant. This was no member of staff. Dread collecting in the pit of her stomach, Willam slid out of bed, padded over to the door then peered through the peephole.

Who she saw on the other side made her truly believe that God absolutely hated her with a passion.

Sighing heavily, Willam opened the door to reveal the one person she didn’t want to see on the other side. Courtney’s stance was apologetic and she didn’t meet Willam’s eyes.

“Hey. You okay?” Willam asked, admitting to herself that there had to be a good reason she was knocking her door at 1am.

“I was up at the bar with Farrah and lost track of time,” she  began, her voice soft. “It was only when I got to my room that I realised I must have dropped my key card somewhere…I knocked on Alaska’s door, but she must be asleep. Reception’s closed…I wouldn’t ask, but…”

Trying her best not to show her visible dread, Willam simply stood aside and held the door wider open, allowing Courtney to enter. She thought briefly about switching the bedside light on or offering her a comfier alternative to sleep in than her current velvet leggings and off-shoulder yellow top, but she didn’t want to run any risk of her kindness being misconstrued as anything more. Settling down under her sheets and feeling Courtney slip under the duvet beside her, it was miles away from their last time sharing a bed. Willam had never felt more tense, terrified of brushing against the other advisor.

“Thanks, Will,” Courtney’s soft voice drifted into the darkness and felt like a stab to Willam’s gut. “You’re a good friend.”

“It’s alright.”

Exhausted, Willam returned to staring into the darkness, resigning herself to the fact that if she wasn’t getting any sleep before then she certainly wouldn’t be getting any now that Courtney was sharing her bed. Her heart ached, hating the fact that she had allowed the other girl to affect her feelings this much and wishing she could return to the old friendship they shared. Anything was better than this.

After an ambiguous amount of time- it could have been hours or minutes- Courtney spoke again.

“Willam?”

The almost-question hung heavy in the air, Willam’s breath completely stopping at the weight her name suddenly held. She couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Courtney, obviously believing the other girl was asleep, gave a little sigh. “Never mind.”

The previously cosy bed suddenly ice cold, Willam felt goosebumps prickle at her skin. They were centimetres from each other but Courtney had never felt so far away, and Willam’s thoughts from earlier hung like a weight in her mind.