#and there are dolls that I bought years ago for custom work but have hesitated to repain due to just being Really Pretty but now Im crackin

[llitchilitchi]

for people in the doll community who know more about Bratz:

I found three unopened, OG boxes bratzillaz dolls (two Cloettas and one Jade) - they are absolutely stunning

how much of a crime would it be if I got my hands on them and at some point used them for custom work? I've never owned Bratz dolls for myself, only one second hand doll that was all beat up and purchased for custom work, but I do feel bad just thinking about cracking the packaging open

if you have some history around the line and the way these dolls are now seen in collector/ooak world, please let me know

edit: the dolls in question are the first edition bratzillaz with pets

[candychronicles]

elysian // s. daichi

A/N: my take on the Haikyuu Headquarters mythology nsfw collab! this was my first time writing for Daichi. i took a greek myth route and had so much fun!!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Daichi Sawamura x F!reader

WORD COUNT: 2,859

WARNINGS: manipulation, oral (F!receiving), mentions of several religions

SYNOPSIS: all your life you had been fighting only to end up at a boring 9-5 with nowhere to turn. Daichi has a proposition and you accept without realizing the consequences. 

Want to read more myths and legends? Click here! 

you were always fascinated with the idea of something larger than you, something so fantastical and great that it consumed the earth over and over again. while many people turned to other religions or no religion at all, satiating their own desires for redemption, love and acceptance, you chose to dig deeper, look at what truly resonated with your life and dutifully settled upon the greek gods. 

they didn’t sugarcoat the bad things they did, that they used their power any way they pleased, that they were stronger, faster and larger than life. they were powerful gods who held powerful positions and were unpredictable, wild and fluid in their dance with humanity. you admired the stories from years ago of how they defeated the titans and split the land between the three sons: the skies for Zeus, the seas for Poseidon and the underworld for Hades. 

Hades had always spoken to you in a way you couldn’t describe. when you worshipped him needing guidance, offering him dark chocolate and sweet, rich red wines, he complied with very little hesitation, always wanting to seemingly please you as long as you kept up your worshipping of him. he became quite moody, jealous and wouldn’t want to talk to you for days if you spent too much time interacting with the other gods. to be frank, you loved the attention he showered you with and felt at ease knowing he would protect you for life.

sighing, you pulled your apron tight around your waist, ready for another day at work slinging coffees and cakes to the less than pleasant customers that walked through the door. being a barista seemed like fun in cliche stories and movies but it was actually just another job that got you through your boring summer. 

it only took an hour before people began screaming and shouting, angry at your lack of speed and pleasant smile on your face. it was just you and two other people there serving a line of ten plus at any given time and while you all tried your best, things never seemed to go the way they were planned.

“one large coffee, black.”

you took a deep breath before plastering a smile on your face, giving the man with the honey sweet voice a price and looking up, the smile threatening to spill onto your cheeks as you recognized Daichi, one of your favorite customers and now good friends.

“thought you might need one friendly face among the crowd of crazy,” he joked, tapping his sleek black credit card against the machine to pay, making sure to leave a hefty tip before nodding and walking away.

he sat for another two hours in the shop, nursing on his coffee and working on his laptop as he waited for you to get a break. when the line finally died down, your rushed from behind the counter and plopped yourself down in the booth across from him.

“what brings your handsome face around here?” you asked, tapping your feet against the ground as the anxiety of the day began to wear off.

“coming to see you as always,” he replied smoothly, downing the last of his coffee before placing the cup back on the table.

“you haven’t been around for awhile,” you pouted, not caring that you sounded desperate.

“i’m sorry but you know work can get oddly busy at times. how about i make it up to you? dinner, tonight at seven? my treat, anywhere you want to go.”

you gaped at him, not sure of what to say. you two had been flirting for months, the only friendly face you had really seen outside of the occasional older lady who always bought you a snack or drink for being so kind and patient with them. he was always sweet as candy, sugary words viscously flowing out of his mouth. at first you thought he was just some tightwad business man looking to get into your pants but as you got to know him, you realized he was just naturally kind, always looking out for the underdog. he treated you with the respect and decency that you deserved and maybe you were just so used to being treated like shit most of the time but his upfront and honest nature just blew you away.

before you had a chance to even reply, he looked at his phone, frowned and stood up.

“i’ll see you at seven, text me your address, yeah?”

with that and a gentle caress of your chin, he practically dissolved into thin air. you blinked once, twice, three times trying to process what had just happened before digging into your pocket to text him your address, not even remembering giving him your number but sure enough, there he sat in your contact with a simple flower next to his name.

the rest of the day went by in a blur and before you knew it, you were sitting on your couch, donned in your best dress, sparkling earrings dangling from your ears and shiny jewels adorning your body. you frowned as you checked the time, noticing it was already ten past seven. just as you were about to give up, you received a text from Daichi.

i’m sorry princess. something big came up at work. i’ll make it up to you. first thing in the morning, dress for the outdoors and bring a jacket, it’ll be a bit chilly where we’re going. i’ll see you then.

you huffed, throwing your phone down on the couch before stuffing your face in your hands, trying not to cry. you began methodically undressing yourself, taking off all your accessories and makeup, barely listening to the TV in the back drone on about some factory explosion that had happened in the next town over, killing two hundred people practically at once. you stopped to share some of the jewels with Hades, lighting his black flame and watching it dance in excitement, thanking him for never leaving you, even in the harshest of times. with all the makeup off, the dress peeled from your body and your shiny jewels laid on the table, you collapsed in bed, too tired and confused to dress yourself again.

a knock on the door had you scrambling off of your bed, hurrying to find a robe before peeking through the peephole to see who woke you up at such an early time on your rare day off. your eyes widened in surprise before squeaking, peeling the door open just a pinch to greet Daichi who held a rather large bouquet of flowers in his hand, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and squinting his eyes as he held the petals out towards you.

“Daichi, i-”

“i’m real sorry about last night. crazy last minute meeting, totally unexpected. i promised i’d make it up to you though, right?”

you opened the door to him at that, blushing when you realized you were only in your robe before practically sprinting to your bedroom to begin getting ready. when you were ready, jacket in hand, you walked back out, a sheepish smile on your face.

“i uh, really didn’t think you would be here in the morning. thought you were just trying to lead me on or something,” you confessed.

“now doll, i think you know me better than that by now,” he chastised, standing up from your couch to offer you his arm.

you took it instantly, a bounce in your step as you followed him out of your apartment, listening to the door close with a resounding thud. 

it took only a few minutes before you were sat in his sleek black car practically oozing with the feeling of money. you gingerly sat down in the leather seats, instantly feeling drowsy. shaking your head, you tried to fight it off but was stopped by Daichi.

“it’ll be a little bit of a drive before we get to where we’re going. you can take a nap, it’s okay. i’m a safe driver. i promise i won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

with his soothing words, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, allowing yourself to be completely relaxed in his presence.

a small jerk woke you up and you blinked, looking out the window to see fields and fields of picture perfect flowers. you were practically surrounded by them, the only clearing being the dirt road you came on and patch of grass leading up to a hill.

“Daichi…” you breathed, speechless by the beauty of the location.

“c’mon, lets eat.”

you practically scurried out of the car, eyes wide as you continued to scan your surroundings. he dutifully began taking the picnic out of the car, setting down the blanket, basket, food and drink in a tasteful and elegant way. you absolutely melted seeing all the delicious food that was laid out for you. before you had a chance to eat, however, Daichi grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his arms and looking you in the eyes.

“y’know, i’ve been absolutely fascinated with you since the first day i met you, all doe-eyed and innocent. the world has knocked you down so many times and yet you still get back up to fight another day. tell me, if i offered you a life of luxury, of eternal peace, full of love and richness, never having to work a day in your life if you didn’t want to, would you take it?”

you were taken aback by his words, not understanding where they were coming from. sure, you two had spent so much time chatting at your coffee shop, sharing your hopes and dreams with him, confiding in him like you would no one else, but you didn’t realize he had taken it all to heart, that he had actually fallen in love with you like you him. you didn’t even realize in that moment that you had even really loved him until he said those words, looked deep into your soul like he knew everything about you and then some.

“i mean, if you’re offering, yeah, i think i’d like a life like that, but maybe once i got to know you first,” you only half joked, wanting to know more about him, a sucker for an idyllic life.

“just say yes and you can spend all the time in the world getting to know me.”

“yes, Daichi, i would take it in a heartbeat.”

he surged forward with that, lips attaching to your own with such ferocity that you weren’t even sure what to do. he tasted like rich chocolate, wine and coffee, a delicious medley on your tongue as you reacted on instinct alone. something about this, with him, felt so right. your head was muddled with thoughts of Daichi and only Daichi, a man who was so mysterious and yet so supportive, always there when you needed him, seemingly popping up out of the blue on your worst days. listening to your problems with a frown on his face, doing everything he possibly could to make you feel better, never overstepping his boundaries and cherishing the time you spent together like there was no tomorrow.

he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you to the ground, flowers crunching around your body as he laid on top of you, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin of your neck, relishing in the way you went breathless just from his lips alone.

“tell me that you want me, that you need me, that you worship me, that i’m the only man you’ll ever need,” he commanded, popping the buttons open on your shirt and ravishing your chest, tweaking your bare nipples in his hands, the cold shocking you to the core.

“you’re all i’ll ever need, Daichi,” you confirmed, too consumed in your own pleasure, wanting to feel more and more of him until he was all you could think of.

“let me take care of you princess.”

with that, he delicately pulled your shirt off, your pants coming down next, your underwear not receiving such a kind fate as they were cruelly ripped off your body. you gasped as you felt his hot breath on your thigh, squirming underneath his touch, the way his tongue danced along your inner thigh, flesh sinking in between his teeth. you whined at the way his cold fingers ghosted over your clit, just barely there but enough to make you go crazy.

“Daichi, please, i need you, please.”

he complied without resistance, his tongue darting out to kitten lick your clit, relishing in the way you instantly melted underneath his touch. you were absolutely enraptured with the way he felt against your body, the cool of his hand tracing seemingly meaningless patterns against your silky inner thigh, his other sinking into your heat, enveloping his digits with warmth, something he rarely felt, his tongue licking and sucking on your bud like your life depended on it. it was all too much, the feeling of him on top of you, doting on you like you were everything to him and you came suddenly, pulsating around his fingers, your own carded in his hair to ground yourself, tears leaking out of your eyes at the sheer feeling of him, only him.

he slowly calmed you down from your high, eyes never leaving his body as his fingers gently continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand continuing to soothe your body, kisses placed anywhere he could reach. when you were finally calm, he removed his fingers, still cold despite the warmth the received, and licked them clean, watching as your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the sight of him worshipping you.

“let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in you, yeah?”

he spent the next few minutes gently wiping you off, dressing you back in most of your clothes sans the underwear he destroyed, a sheepish and apologetic smile on his face as he promised to buy you a new pair, no matter the price. you shrugged your jacket on over your shoulders, finally noticing how cold it was, a chill running straight to your core as you tightened clothing around you.

after a few moments of catching your breath, you stood up with the help of Daichi, walking over to the picnic and sitting down, mouth drooling at the sight of food, suddenly ravenous.

“were you really serious about saying yes, about being mine forever?”

“like i said Daichi, i do want to get to know you better, but i can’t deny i’m not falling in love with you. something about you feels familiar, like you’ve been with me my whole life, like you know me better than i know myself. i feel so comfortable and safe around you. so yes, call me a dumb romantic, but i was serious about that.”

with a satisfied nod, he began feeding you, watching you closely as you swallowed food after food, a delighted smile on your face. you felt stronger, more relaxed, less cold and certainly happier eating and drinking, taking the time to really talk to Daichi, learn about him, his thoughts and feelings, some of his tragic past and your heart hurt more and more as you listened to him.

when all was said and done, you stood up, wiping the crumbs off your body as looked at Daichi, a smile plastered on your face.

“when are you taking me home?” you questioned, looking around the field to see if you could spot anything else to do.

“well, my dear, whenever you’re ready, i’ll show you your new home right away. after all, what kind of king would i be if i didn’t let my queen see her palace right away?”

“what?” you questioned, looking at him quizzically. 

when he stood up, you noticed the whole mood had shifted and so did the world. the flowers, as bright and beautiful as they were, were no longer illuminated by a brilliant sun but rather a striking moon, darkness encircling your very body. you felt cold and yet not cold at all, like it was a very part of your being. Daichi seemed to stand immortally tall before you, an air of authority that was not there before. beautiful houses scattered the flowerbeds, people milling about, people from stories you had read to soothe yourself to sleep as you dreamt of one day being a hero of your own.

“Daichi, what is going on?” you asked, frightened and confused.

“well, doll, i did ask you several times to make sure but i knew in my heart that you would come to accept and eventually love this life as i have,” he started, gesturing for you to turn around to look out behind you, a whole world opening up in front of your eyes, “this is the underworld, i am Hades, you’re currently in the Elysian Fields, now that you ate the food down here, you are an immortal part of me and this, my queen, is your new home.” 

[yeahimaloser]

Oh To Be In Love

Part 6

Summary: You and your best friend, Hawks, learn to be in love.

Reader has no pronouns mentioned (story is gender inclusive)

Hello everyone! sorry if this took a while, I hope enjoy though!!

Also HOLY HELL THANK YOU ALL FOR 400!!It’s kinda funny because I hit 300 a week ago! Anyways, requests are still open and I’ll leave em open longer because of me getting to 400!!Also, I will not get to everyone, please keep that in mind (I linked the info for requesting right here :))

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3 -> Part 4-> Part 5

Word count: 3.5k

. . .

After you had visited Hawks in the hospital, it felt like things had calmed down between you two.

Maybe things hadn’t gone back to completely normal, but you were getting there. The tension between you and him was less thick, the air felt more breathable now. After what Hawks had said to you in the hospital, you both continued to talk it out, trying to make sure you both were ok with the situation. But things weren’t completely the same.

You felt as though there was a different type of tension between you two now. Like, Hawks knew something you didn’t. You never brought it up, even though maybe you should, you really wanted the thickness of the unspoken, mysterious string of tension to just evaporate. But it still seemed that something about the day you had visited him in the hospital had done something, but you weren’t sure what. 

Hawks had been acting a bit different towards you. Talking to you more, hanging out with you more, and even paying you back for the chicken you had bought him. He told you that he just, “wanted to be a good friend.” 

You weren’t sure what was going on with him.

----

It was a nice Friday evening, you weren’t even up to anything. Just watching some random show sitting on your couch, eating whatever was left in your fridge when your phone started to ring.

You looked at the caller I.D to see it was Hawks. 

Why is he calling so late? And for no reason?

Sure, you and Hawks would call each other pretty often, but this late? It seemed a bit strange for him. He always told you how important his sleep schedule was. He had a habit of working so late and being so exhausted when he had gotten home to his penthouse.  

You picked it up, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Meh, nothing really, not right now,” his voice sounded a bit tired, most likely from him working so hard during the day, “But I was wondering, what are you doin’ tomorrow?”

You were a bit confused by the question but answered nevertheless, “Nothing, I was just gonna hang around my house for a bit. Why,” you asked.

“Well,” Hawks started, “I wanted to ask you on a date.”

“Wha-,” before you could stop yourself, you had already yelled the question into your phone, shooting up from your place on the couch.

But you heard Hawks just bark with laughter, “I meant like a friend date. I heard of this really amazing restaurant, we can get all dolled up to go out. It’ll be fun.”

Your heartbeat still hadn’t calmed down from Hawks’ question, but it left you a bit confused, “Isn’t that what we always do though? That just sounds like a normal evening for the two of us. And besides, what about your wings?”

Hawks just chuckled, “Don’t you worry about that part, dove, my wings are practically nubs, remember?” Hawks had gotten back from a mission a while ago, making his feathers dissipate down to just the base, which was funny considering he was only gone for a few days on his trip (he refused to tell you about missions, saying he didn’t like talking his trips), “So don’t you worry. And also, yeah you are right we do go out a lot, but this place is supposed to be really fancy and nice. So, I’ll drive us over and make us a reservation, we’ll have a lot of fun I promise. Sound good?”

You bit your lip, this all sounded a bit much, even for Hawks. He had a strange habit of spoiling you at times. No matter what you told him, he would insist on it. Taking you to fancy dinners, buying you expensive gifts. You couldn’t understand why he felt the need to, you told him repeatedly that you didn’t want to be his friend for his money. Although, it seemed whenever you two were at a KFC that generosity would disappear.

“I mean, if you think it’s a good idea,” you said in a hesitant tone.

“Great! So tomorrow at five I’ll pick you up. Make sure you look nice, alright?”

“Ok birdbrain.”

You heard him groan, “Now I’m re-thinking asking you, stop calling me that.”

“Na, it’s too fun.”

“Whatever.”

You giggled a bit, “So tomorrow at five?”

“See you tomorrow Chickie.”

-----

You had to admit, you were nervous.

Ok, more than nervous.

Going on any type of date with Hawks (even if he instituted it was just a friend-date) would make anyone nervous. He was Hawks, the second-best pro hero, any normal person would be freaking out. But you’ve been infatuated with him for years, hiding it was nerve-racking, so going on a date made it one-hundred times worse. 

You were terrified of messing something up, of looking terrible, and having Hawks think of you as a slob. Or if you embarrassed him at this nice restaurant, if you were to say something rude or out of hand. You really just didn’t want to mess this up.

Even if you two were as close as you were, sometimes your anxiety couldn’t help but crawl in. Making you feel jittery and nervous, you knew that Hawks honestly wouldn’t care all that much really, he wasn’t that kind of guy. He wasn’t shallow, at least as far as you knew, he was a good person. You knew he was the kind of person to find someone based on character, not on someone's outward appearance. At the end of the day, he just had a chill type of demeanor, not caring all that much for how good a person looked, he was way more perceptive than that.

But still, you wanted to outdo his expectations, at least a bit.

You had picked out one of your nicer outfits, taken a shower, did your hair all nice, and made yourself look presentable for Hawks. But you were still nervous. What if your hair looked hideous? Did this outfit even look good? Hawks would probably look so much better, you didn’t want to look horrid next to him. 

Hawks is an extremely handsome man, someone would have to be blind not to see it, so walking into a nice restaurant with someone like him was extremely daunting. You really did want to look your best, you wanted to actually impress Hawks. He’d seen you in your sweats before, he’d seen you right when you’ve woken up, so you wanted to show him that you could clean up well. 

So here you were, looking at yourself in the mirror to give yourself a quick once over, making sure it looked perfect when you heard a knock at your door.

You rushed over to open it, hoping to God Hawks would think you looked alright.

Opening the door to see Hawks standing there, looking so… well, hot.

He had a nice tan suit, which seemed to match his hero custom. His hair, while still a mess, was done up a bit nicer, gelled back a bit. Of course, his stubble on his face was still unkempt but still gave a nice rougher look to him. A white shirt under his suit jacket had a few buttons undone, adding more to his look of natural handsomeness. 

You noticed the big coat he wore over his suit, seemingly to hide the rest of his wings.

But you didn’t notice him eyeing you, looking you up and down.

“You look,” he started, a light up-take to his voice, “really good.”

You chuckled, “So do you, that tan suit looks really good on you.”

“Oh yeah, I kinda thought so. I figured the black one might  be a bit much, so I opted for the tan.”

“The black one would probably make you stand out too much huh.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. But you look good, I like the outfit, makes your figure look really...nice,” the comment made you feel a bit giddy, but you hid it with an eye roll.

“Well, that's good to hear seeing as I spent so much time picking it out. I didn’t want to look like a total bum at this nice restaurant.”

He just chuckled,  “Well, you look amazing. I would say better than me. Anyways,” he extended a hand to you, “shall we?”

You smirked raising a brow, “Wow, so romantic.”

Hawks just laughed, “Romantic, huh? I was just going for a more friendly route, just trying to be polite.”

You wrapped your arm around his, “Alright, birdboy, let’s go.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that!”

-----

To say the restaurant was extravagant would be putting it lightly.

The walls were glistening with some sort of marble, the ceiling was so far up, you were sure Hawks could probably fly all the way to the top and he wouldn’t smack into anything, the lights looming the dining place made the place a well-lit area, the music was even played by a live orchestra. The floors were covered in red carpeting, with some sort of intricate pattern placed on it. The attendance all wore a black tux, the serves carried food that made your mouth water a bit, the smell overpowering. 

The servers and the customers alike didn’t seem to notice Hawks and you entered the building. You didn’t know if it was because most of these people were so rich that they were used to seeing big shot hero's, or if it was because Hawks’ wings were shrunk and couldn’t be easily seen. Either way, it felt nice. There were very few times where you and Hawks could be in public together, you both really didn’t want the public to get information on your friendship, you both liked the fact that you two had your privacy in each other. But it was also due to security reasons. Hawks had told you that, “Hero’s having non-hero friends can be difficult, villains can play dirty with loved ones, it happens a lot more than you’d think.” So, going out into the public was risky, a few restaurants and shops were hero friendly, making sure the paparazzi couldn’t get into their facility, making it easy for heroes to have fun with their family’s. You and Hawks had gone to those a few times, but with his busy schedule, it made more sense to just stay home with each other's company. 

As you two walked down the restaurant, Hawks told you that he really didn’t want to have just a table, he preferred privacy. He told you that at this restaurant you could just easily rent out a room to eat, he really likes his own little space. You were sure it was because he didn’t really like being in the public eye all that much, as much as he loved his fans, you knew it was draining to him. Although Hawks would never admit it, he was a bit paranoid. You figured that, as a hero, he had to be. But it did make it difficult for him to relax, you found yourself having to remind him that you and he were safe, nothing bad was going to happen in the safety and privacy of your home whenever you two hung out there. 

You didn’t expect the rooms to be all that big, expecting maybe both with some nice candles. Yet, you were very mistaken, the rooms were so sizable they were large enough to be some people's houses. 

In the middle, there was a nice table, with a bread basket and candles already lit. The floors were the same red carpeting that you had seen earlier, only they seemed to be cleaner and the pattern more vibrant, the color gave a nice contrast to the gray marble of the walls. You even realized a nice fireplace and a couch was in the corner, yet the area was big enough where the space wasn’t minimized just to accommodate the table and the fireplace, there seemed to be more than enough spacing in the room. Music played from the speakers in the room, still being played by an orchestra, but more relaxing.

“Hawks,” you were at a loss for words, “this is-”

“Yeah, I figured you would like it, it has a kinda homie feel to it don’t ya think,” he asked.

“I mean yeah,” you both sat down at the table, “homie for super-rich people.”

Hawks let out a hearty laugh, “So you like it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

You noticed how the staff seemed very familiar with this kind of thing, you wondered to yourself if heroes came here with family and friends as well. Maybe the staff was just used to seeing pro hero’s on their workdays. 

As your appetizers came out, you finally asked, “So why all this? Why’d you feel the need to take me here of all places?”

“You’re acting like I can't do anything nice for you Y/N, come on, cut me some slack here.”

You shook your head, “I know you, Hawks, you're nice, but I can tell you’re doing this for a reason.”

He just sighed, “Alright, you got me. I feel bad, after what happened, after me being rude to you, I kinda wanted to do something nice for the two of us. To remind us of our friendship I guess,” Hawks chuckled, “I guess that’s kinda cheesy though.”

You giggled, “A bit, but still,” you reached for his hand, “I think it’s really nice. But we don’t need to do some fancy outings, I’m totally fine with laying around and eating KFC with you.”

Hawks smiled, “Noted. But still, I felt like going somewhere nice,” he shrugged, “Just wanted to be the nice guy. Show you I wanted to do something cool.”

You smirked, “Alright Mr. Money Bags, we get it, you’re loaded.”

He threw his hands in the air, “Hey! I didn’t mean it like that!”

You and Hawks continued to talk and chat while eating your food. Talking about anything really, hero business, your life, gossip, anything that you two found interesting the other seemed to enjoy listening. Hawks told you about how his hero work would be boring, or how it was exhilarating (you could never tell if he loved his job or loathed it). He told you about some other pros too; Miriko, Endeavor, Edgeshot, you were surprised how many pro heroes he’d gotten to know over the years. You, in turn, told him about your life, about the things stressing you out, about the people you meet, about your own stories. In truth, you knew that your stories probably sound like minuscule problems next to him trying to save Japan and keep everyone safe. But the way he listened made you feel as though you really were as important as a numu ravaging the city. 

That was the thing about Hawks, he was charming sure, but he was also someone whose presence made anyone let their guard down. He was charismatic, but his charisma stretched to his overall being, he really just made it so he’s demeanor put people at ease with him.

As the dinner continued, you felt the lingering tension dissolve, maybe a few stranded stayed, but overall, you felt the comfortable friendliness that you loved. You felt the openness you had grown accustomed to around Hawks, and in turn, you felt Hawks relax more in your company, feeling his smile become more genuine, his words become more like himself.

You two joked and laughed the whole night away, you honestly felt like only a few minutes had passed, you just felt so at ease with Hawks.

You were scraping up the last crumbs of your desert, Hawks already done with his. You listen to him ramble about Endeavor, listen to how his wings were ‘killing him lately.’

When he slowly stoped talking, the room heavy with silence for a moment.

He looked up at you, “Hey Y/N.”

“Hm,” you said, food still in your mouth.

He took a deep inhale, “Are- are you mad at me? For the hospital I mean.”

The question was out of nowhere, you two had barely even talked about what had happened at the hospital. You just kind of assumed he wanted to forget about the whole thing as much as you had. 

You paused for a moment, “...No, no I’m not. You were just worried, like me. We both did something stupid that day because we were concerned about each other. I can’t blame you for that.”

Hawks let out a breath, visibly relaxing. 

He went quiet again. Before you could ask him what was wrong on, he smiled at you.

“Do you wanna dance?”

The question shocked you, a dance? With Hawks? The man you’ve been in love with for years? Someone should pinch you to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

You did notice the shift in music, from the more lively sound to a gentler, more slow songs. You could tell the music was supposed to be romantic, supposed to be a dance for couples. 

“I-,” you could barely get your words out, still stuttering like a foul in front of him.

But Hawks just smirked, “Come on, the nice music, the fancy fireplace, the warm atmosphere,” he stood from his seat, extending a hand to you, “it’s all perfect for a dance. And besides, you look too good not to have a nice dance with. So, what do you say, chickadee? Sound fun,” his mischievous smirk turned into a real, genuine smile.

Some part of you had the sense to nod, taking a hold of his hand. He pulled you up to him, steading you lightly.

You placed your hands on his shoulder while he gripped your waist lightly. His hands gave you a light squeeze, you, in turn, gave his shoulders a small squeeze as well. He rocked you back and forth, setting a nice pace.

The carpeting against your feet felt soft and easy to dance on, the space of the room felt big enough to occupy you and Hawks as you dance together, holding each other as the rhythm of the music played on. 

You rested your head against him, slowly moving your body with his. Both of you were so close now, so together at this moment. 

Maybe the moment was too tender to be just between friends, you knew that. Maybe you should step away, save yourself the pain of heartbreak, but you couldn’t. Whatever spell Hawks had you under, you were in it for the long haul. 

This was one of Hawks’ many charms, his ability to pull you in, even if you knew you should step back. He just kept tugging at you, making you come closer and closer till you didn’t want to pull away.

But a part of you knew how this ends, it ends with you two still friends. Even if this moment felt like something more. 

So you allowed yourself to have it, you allowed your mind to let go and just enjoy it completely. Maybe you couldn’t have Hawks, maybe you were just wounding yourself more as you danced with him. You would deal with it later, right now, all you wanted was to be close to him.

It was a few more moments before Hawks spoke.

“Y/N,” you looked back at Hawks, “does it… does it bother you that you don’t know my real name?”

Man, today was his day for random questions, huh. This one also came out of nowhere as well; His real name? You two never really talked about it all that much, in reality, you never really gave his name much thought. 

You paused for a second, weighing your answer, “Well, first, you seem to have a knack at asking random questions today,” Hawks chuckled a bit, nodding his head, “Secondly, no, not really. You would still be you, a name wouldn’t change that,” you purse your lips, trying to make sure your words came out right, making sure your intent was correct and well-meaning, “at the end of the day, you’re you. A name won’t change that, you’ll still be my best friend at the end of the day, a name won’t change our relationship. I’ll still care about you, all the same, I’ll still value the time we spend together. I know you probably can't tell me your name because you’re...well you’re Hawks. But I don’t mind waiting, and I don’t mind if you never tell me, I like who you are, and I promise a name will never change that, it’ll only change what I call you, not how I view you.”

You didn’t realize Hawks had tensed up till he relaxed after your short speech. His body seemed to be a lot less stiff, his eyes looked relieved, his whole body seemed to melt a bit. 

“Thank you. I know I’ve asked two very random questions today, I’ve just been kinda thinking about em’. The name one has been especially bothersome. It’s just...I know so much about you, but you know so little about me. It seems kinda unfair,” he rocked you gently, giving your waist a light squeeze.

You just shrugged, “Well, I signed up for this. I knew what it meant to be friends with you, but I don’t regret a thing. No matter what, I whole-heartily believe it’s worth it.”

Hawks gave you a smile, and to your surprise, he gently pressed his lips to your forehead, “Thank you. I really appreciate you...so much.”

. . . 

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[bowsie22]

Chuyao 2

Summary: Lu Yao’s life took a different turn when he got to Shanghai.

There was a man in Chusheng’s kitchen. Tall, attractive, dressed in expensive night clothes, including a gossamer robe. Youning didn’t recognise him. He wasn’t one of her father’s men.

“It’s rude to stare.”

Youning jumped, not expecting the man behind her.

“Chu- Chusheng! It’s rude to scare people like that.”

Laughing, the older man approached the stranger. Wrapping his arms around the other’s waist, Chusheng pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Morning sweetheart, you sleep ok?”

Laughing the man turned in the smaller man’s arms, accepting the kiss, arms wrapped around the other’s neck.

“When you finally let me sleep you mean? I slept perfectly darling. Oh! Hello there.”

“Ah, right. Youning, this is Lu Yao.  He’s going to help us with this case. Sweetheart, this is Bai Youning.”

“Bai?”

“Yes, Bai.”

Shaking himself out of whatever those thoughts were, Lu Yao held out his hand, smile on his face.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve read your articles, they’re very good.”

Blushing, Youning shook the hand.

“Thank you. Chusheng never mentioned you before, how did you meet?”

The two men looked at each other, a silent conversation happening. Youning hadn’t seen that since her parents. Chusheng cleared his throat.

“That’s a story for another day. Right now, we have work to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another week, another case. Youning sighed, throwing herself across Chusheng’s desk, whining.

“Chusheng, we’re getting nowhere. Why can’t we ask your Lu Yao for help again?”

“He’s working.”

“So? Interrupt him. We’ve been stuck on the same piece of evidence for three days. Please?”

Sighing, Chusheng reached for his jacket.

“Fine, but one negative comment and you are never let on another crime scene again, got it?”

“Got it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The Lotus Cloud? Chusheng, why are we here?”

She looked up at the building, hesitant to go inside. Hand on the door, Chusheng turned to look at Youning, who stood at the bottom of the steps.

“This is where Lu Yao works.”

“This is a whorehouse.”

“So it is. You coming in or what?”

They walked through the reception area, people greeting Chusheng. Seems like he was a regular. Chusheng walked up the stairs and headed for a room at the end of the hall, Youning walking close behind him. He knocked on the door, smiling when he heard something fall. The door swung open, Chusheng bracing himself.

“Chu!!”

Lu Yao leapt into the other man’s arms, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Seeing Chusheng’s wandering hands, Youning cleared her throat. Lu Yao pulled away, blushing when he saw the young woman.

“Youning, I’m sorry. Oh, this isn’t a social visit.”

He looked upset, which made Youning feel guilty. Chusheng gently pushed the other man back into the room, sitting on the couch and pulling him into his lap. Nuzzling Lu Yao’s cheek, Chucheng moved to press kisses along his neck.

“I’m sorry gorgeous. Help us solve this case and I’ll book you for an entire week. You can come to mine, we can cook together, wake up together, spend days together.”

Lu Yao giggled, looking a bit happier. He bared more of his neck to Chusheng’s kisses.

“That does sound nice. I like when I get to spend a few days with you. Ok, you go get some tea and Youning will fill me in.”

“Deal.”

Chusheng left the room, sending a warning glare to Youning, who was staring at a wall. It was a nice room. A large bed took up one wall with a chest of drawers and  wardrobe opposite it. Through the cracked door, she could see lace and see through fabrics. Lu Yao sat in the living area which contained a table, an armchair and a couch. There was another wardrobe which Youning assumed contained Lu Yao’s normal clothes, like he wore when he worked with the police.

“So, you’re a..?”

She trailed off, unsure what to say.

“A prostitute, yes. Take a seat.”

Youning sat in the armchair, eyes fixed on Lu Yao.

“You have a lot of questions.”

“I don’t understand, you’re so smart. Why are you here?”

“Are you saying prostitutes can’t be smart?”

“No, of course not!”

Lu Yao laughed softy, shushing the young woman.

“It’s ok, really. This wasn’t my first choice. After England, I was supposed to return home where my father had the perfect job and husband picked out for me. I didn’t want any of that so I came to Shanghai. Turns out my father’s reach extends further than I thought it did. He blacklisted me from every corporation, shop, company in the city. Madame Wu was the only person who would hire me. It’s no too bad. I make a lot of money and the men and women spoil me. Could be worse.”

“But, you and Chusheng? You seem to love him.”

“Your father sent Chusheng here a few years ago. Felt he was too stressed, too aggressive. I caught his eye and took him up here. I won’t lie, he hurt me the first few times, covering me in marks, leaving me limping, unable to see another customer for a few days. He was angry all the time, furious. Thankfully, I don’t mind a bit of pain.”

“What changed?”

“He did. As time went on, he saw me as a person, not just a sex doll, which is how most customers see me. We spent our time talking, getting to know each other. He calmed down, became softer, gentle, loving. And then I told him I was in love with him and thank God, he felt the same. So, we do what we can.”

“Why don’t you leave?”

“I have a contract dear. For another ten years at least. I owe Madame Wu for the room, the clothes, the food and drink. It adds up. I’ll never make enough money to buy my contract, neither will Chusheng. So, we make do with what we have.”

Youning felt sorry for the young man in front of her. He looked sad, tears in his eyes as he spoke about his relationship with Chusheng. The two seemed so in love, the fact that they weren’t able to be together broke her heart. Before she could speak, Chusheng entered the room, a tray with cups and a teapot in his hands.

“Lu Yao, sweetheart, are you ok?”

He dropped the tray onto the table, falling to his knees in front of his lover. Reaching up, he gently wiped the tears from the other’s eyes.

“Why the tears? How many times have I said that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be crying?”

“Far too many. I’m fine, just emotional. Get up here, show me the case files. Let’s solve another murder. I swear, you bring me the oddest presents.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Chusheng walked into his office. Bai Qili sat at his desk, his daughter standing behind him.

“Good morning?”

“Chusheng, I’ve been a bad person.”

What could Chusheng say to that? Of course he was a bad person, so was Chusheng.

“Ok?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking. I had you do terrible things for me. You hurt people, killed people for me. I used you as a weapon, I dehumanised you. And I never thanked you for that. Consider this my thank you. And my apology.”

He gestured to the piece of paper on the desk. Slowly, still very confused, Chusheng picked it up, unfolding it. What he saw brought tears to his eyes, breath catching in this throat.

“This is-“

“I bought Lu Yao’s contract from Madame Wu. He’s free. To do whatever he wants. To be with whoever he wants. This is the least I can do for you. Go tell him, he doesn’t know yet. I though he would want to hear it from you.”

“Thank you.”

Bai Qili waved his tearful thanks away.

“Go Chusheng. This is the least I can do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chusheng ran through the reception area, ignoring the greetings sent his way. Banging on Lu Yao’s door, he grinned as he heard the other man swearing and stumbling over whatever he had dropped.

“WHAT? Chusheng, my God, what is wrong with you?”

Laughing, he swept the taller man into his arms, dancing through the room with him. Lu Yao laughed, clueless, but always happy to see his Chusheng happy.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what is wrong with you today?”

“Look. Look at this.”

Taking the paper from his lover’s shaking hands, Lu Yao read it, eyes wide.

“This is my contract. What?”

“Bai Qili bought it and gave it to me. You’re free Lu Yao. You can leave.”

“I can leave. I can leave! Oh my God, we can be together. We can stay in your house, your bed. I can cook in your kitchen.”

“You mean our house, our bed and our kitchen!”

Laughing, the couple collapsed onto the bed, sharing kisses and whispered plans. They had a life to plan after all.

 A/N You may or may not be aware that I’ve set up a MRIAD discord. Feel free to join and come talk to us over there - https://discord.gg/axYJuh

[commander-yinello]

Happy 2019 all! I wrote up a drabble last year (hehe) inspired by the Christmas MM tree picture, and found the time to finish it recently! Because she is so wonderful, it comes with adorable art drawn by the wonderful @irageneveart!! Please check out her amazing work! I hope you enjoy some doll silliness, and there’s more to read under the cut!

“Yoosung, what is this?”

Zen opened a small box that Yoosung had just carried in. There were more boxes around his apartment, filled with Christmas tree decorations, ones that Zen always offered to hold so it’d be easier to bring to the party tomorrow. This box was new however.

“I bought those from a friendly old lady on the market! When I saw them, I thought it would be super cool to have them on our tree!” Yoosung said, putting down the last box and smiling when Zen held up their latest decoration for their party tree – a doll that looked exactly like him.

“Dolls? Wait, you actually have the entire RFA in here?” Zen grabbed another doll, one resembling Seven way too closely for comfort.

“Isn’t it great? I know we’ll see everyone tomorrow but this way we can all be together for the entire holiday! Err, on a tree, but still!”

The dolls were simple, but detailed enough that Zen could recognize each of them. He especially liked the Zen doll, in its ponytailed glory. Damn, Yoosung has some quality decorating skills, he thought. Taking them out one by one, he came across the only doll that could made him frown.

“Ugh! Yoosung, did you have to have one of the Trust Fund jerk as well?” He dangled the Jumin doll by its leg far away from him, as if it were diseased.

“I knew you’d complain about Jumin, but we wouldn’t have the RFA without him, Zen.” Yoosung calmly stacked the other boxes against the wall. “Please don’t throw him away. I don’t think I’d find that lady again. If you want, I’ll take him with me.”

That made Zen huff. “Why the hell do you think I’m going to throw this away?!” Admittedly, the idea was tempting. The serious look drawn on the doll face made Zen narrow his eyes, locking them a staring competition he couldn’t possibly win. “Leave him with the rest, I promise you’ll have them all tomorrow for the tree.”

Yoosung smiled, clearly not convinced. “I hope so, Zen. Gotta go, good luck babysitting the RFA!” the blond waved and walked out of Zen’s living room, leaving Zen with the array of dolls piled on his kitchen table.

“Humph! Yoosung has no faith in me. You’re just a dumb doll, even if you are Trust Fund doll,” Zen poked the Jumin doll’s forehead. “I bet I won’t even remember you exist.”

***

It had to be Yoosung’s comment that kept him thinking of that damn jerk doll. That’s what Zen told himself when he caught himself glaring at Jumin doll for the 500th time. The dolls were packed back into the box, Jumin lying on top of the rest. Maybe he should bury it underneath everyone, Zen thought, and he picked it up. To his surprise, the doll felt warm to the touch, almost a mini heater.

Did Yoosung pack heat pockets into their cotton bodies?

The warmth was pleasant, especially with the cold winter air chilling his apartment and Zen not wanting to increase his heating bills. Jumin doll’s head was a bit too big for him to hold, but Zen had a good grip on his back, cradling it like a baby animal. The doll certainly was as helpless as one, and he used his other hand to make sure Jumin doll was held upright.

Zen snapped out of his wandering thoughts, realizing he had been holding Jumin for a while. Yikes. Weird. Quickly he dropped the doll. He wasn’t that desperate for heat.

***

He changed his mind once he sat down in front of the tv. Sitting still made him colder, even with two sweaters on. Zen considered surrounding himself with all the dolls, but something in him felt that was too weird. The only doll he had with him was Jumin’s. Jumin doll seemed even warmer now and Zen couldn’t figure out why. He pressed into different parts of the doll, ignoring the reality show on the screen in front, wondering what it was filled with.

“Would it kill you to smile?” Zen asked. The doll’s smile remained a straight line.

Jumin doll’s clothes were really fancy, its tiny suit made from actual suit-like material, complete with black shiny buttons. The cotton hands were smooth and pleasant to the touch, possibly silk. Zen wondered what Jumin doll looked like underneath the fancy clothes. He undid the buttons and started to tug off the jacket covering the shirt before he stopped himself.

What was he doing? Surely he didn’t want to see Jumin, even if it’s a doll, naked. It’s just curiosity over doll craftsmanship, he told himself. But Yoosung would kill him if he ruined the student’s hard work, so he re-dressed the doll.

No harm done, Zen observed. Yet he still felt embarrassed. The reality show had ended long ago by the time he snapped out of his odd mood.

“I’m not obsessed.” he said to the doll. The doll said nothing back.

***

Okay fine, he was a little obsessed. The night made the temperature drop further, and now he was lying in bed with Jumin doll, questioning his sanity. He could just get another blanket. He could fill a hot water bottle. He could exchange Jumin doll for Zen doll, which would be perfect for him. But he didn’t want to.

There was something serene and comforting, the way Jumin doll cuddled close to his chest, large head pressing into his cheek. The part of Zen that was awake wondered if it had been too long since he last dated. The part of Zen that was nearly asleep wondered what it would like to cuddle Jumin, if he’d feel just as warm, if those expensive pajamas he must undoubtedly wear was just as smooth.

His bed must be covered in cat fur. Would he clean it for… visitors?

The sane part of him would’ve loved for Zen to run outside into the cold to kill that curiosity once and for all. One did not imagine Jumin Han in bed of all things, and certainly not what he’d do to bed partners.

Before Zen got to chastise himself further, those thoughts let him drift to sleep, arms wrapped closely around Jumin doll.

***

All the dolls dangled on the large Christmas tree, and Zen found it cute yet slightly morbid to watch them smile in between the other sparkly ornaments. Jumin doll was halfway up the tree, and Zen thanked his lucky stars he didn’t manage to wrinkle the whole thing in his sleep. It was bad enough he hugged a doll like a kid, but Jumin dolls of all dolls… A shiver ran up his spine.

Everyone around him was busy putting up decorations in the large party room. In the corner of his eye, he saw Jumin and Jaehee approach. Jaehee, giant clipboard in her hands, gave him a big smile while Jumin was his boring, serious self.

“Way to be late, CEO-to-be.”

“I had a few last-minute calls to make.” Jumin’s gaze fell on the dolls. “What are these?”

Zen rolled his eyes. “What does it look like?”

Jaehee, visibly unsettled, touched her own doll. “Are these… voodoo dolls?”

Now considering it, Zen could see why she came to that conclusion. He shook his head and laughed. “No way! Yoosung made them.”

“I hear my name.” Yoosung comically poked his head out from behind the tree.

“These are quite well made. Yoosung, have you considered selling custom dolls?” Jumin remarked.

Just as Zen wanted to yell at him for only thinking about money, Yoosung replied: “Oh no, I didn’t make them! Like I told Zen, I bought them from a very sweet lady on the Christmas market. When I saw they looked like us, I had to get them!”

The three of them froze to stare at Yoosung. Zen was the first to react. “Wait a minute. They already looked like us?!”

“Yes?” Yoosung cocked his head.

“And you didn’t think that was incredibly weird?”

“No? Actually, I did think she underpriced them. Do you think I should have paid more?” Yoosung fretted. “I didn’t want to rip anyone off, but I was so happy to find gifts for everyone within my student budget!”

Zen knew if he facepalmed right now, it would hurt his face.

Jaehee was in a state of light panic. “Oh my God, they could be actual voodoo dolls! We should remove them from the tree! What if something happens to them!”

“Hold on, hold on, it might just be a lady who happened to have visited an RFA party and made dolls out of us.” Zen was aware how much creepier he made it sound. “I mean, none of you felt anything strange yesterday, right?”

Jaehee and Yoosung both shook their heads.

“Now that you mention it…” Jumin furrowed his brows, making the hairs on the back of Zen’s neck rise. “Last night, during the evening meeting it got colder for a few minutes, as if I suddenly had no clothes on. And then when I was trying to sleep, I felt something press up to me that I couldn’t see. I would have been more worried, but it was very warm and… pleasant. Different from Elizabeth’s comfort, yet close.” Jumin’s eyes softened for a second before it vanished, but Zen didn’t miss it. “I don’t suppose-?”

“I think that’s just coincidence Jumin. Zen didn’t touch the dolls after I brought them. Right, Zen?” Yoosung asked.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Zen chuckled awkwardly, while inside his mind he was freaking out. “It’s not my fault Trust Fund has an overactive imagination.”

Jaehee’s frown remained but thankfully dropped the subject to check other party details with Yoosung. However, Jumin narrowed his eyes at him and Zen wondered if he knew, that somehow Jerkmin knew what Zen had done last night.

Zen had never excused himself so fast.

At the end of the party, Zen made sure to collect all the dolls. Placing all of them safely in their box, he hesitated when he held the Jumin doll. Then he quietly shoved it in the inside pocket of his jacket, questioning his sanity even further.

Unbeknownst to him, Jumin watched a few meters away, and when Zen conveniently lifted the box to hide what was in his jacket, a smirk formed on his face. He decided to leave early, looking forward to another interesting night.

[sergeantpepperconcept]

Sergeant Pepper's wild trip

IT WAS 40 years ago today that the Beatles put outSergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. With its orchestral arrangements, trace of eastern rhythms, collage art and reported inspiration in LSD, the album is said to be the most influential rock record of all time. Newsweek compared it toThe Wasteland by T. S. Eliot. Critic Kenneth Tynan extravagantly called it "a decisive moment in the history of Western civilisation".

But claims that Sergeant Pepper fathered hippies, psychedelia, progressive rock or the 1967 Summer of Love surely miss the point. The album is about something both more ordinary and more weird: England.

It is an England of brass bands, fun fairs and music halls; double-decker buses, home maintenance and holidays by the sea; rain, of course, and cups of tea. It is an England that is timeless and caught at a distinct moment in time, as the old ticks over to the new, lords and armies lose their grip on the land and a girl runs away from home to meet a man from the motor trade. It is England at a precise point in the lives of John Lennon and Paul McCartney, whose highly competitive partnership reaches its creative peak on Sergeant Pepper, before the bitter slide towards separation.

The Beatles recorded the album between December 1966 and April 1967. In that time they also recorded Strawberry Fields, written by Lennon, and McCartney's Penny Lane. Yet producer George Martin left the two songs off Sergeant Pepper, a decision he says he regrets to this day. With the 13 on the album and I Am the Walrus, which Lennon wrote in September 1967, they form the only body of Beatles work that conveys a spirit of the place that made them.

The early days, their yeah-yeah-yeah period, were all placeless love songs, Paperback Writer being a rare exception. The very English Eleanor Rigbylives and dies on Revolver, the record before Sergeant Pepper, and George Harrison complains about the government's revenue collection policies in Taxman. But that is all.

After Sergeant Pepper, the break-up is looming. They mostly write separately. Lennon's lyrics are harder, often focused on politics; Harrison turns eastwards. The themes of Sergeant Pepper are gone. In their whole career is one nine-month burst of songs of home. What accounts for this brief, brilliant dream of England?

In August 1966, the Beatles played their last live concert, in San Francisco. After three years of almost constant touring, they were fed up with not being able to hear themselves above the screams. They had been hounded out of the Philippines, fearing for their lives, after allegedly insulting Imelda Marcos. Their records were being burnt across the United States after Lennon had said they were more popular than Jesus. They were exhausted and disillusioned; they wanted to hide. McCartney proposed that on their next record they take alter egos. On the plane back from America, Harrison said: "That's it. I'm finished. I'm not a Beatle any more."

Sergeant Pepper, then, was the record they made after they went home and saw it as if for the first time. Except, of course, that England in 1966 was hardly the world of Sergeant Pepper and his band. The looking glass points backwards: Penny Lane is the suburban junction where Lennon and McCartney would meet as teenagers before taking the bus into Liverpool. Strawberry Fields is a children's home near where Lennon lived as a boy. The songs Getting Better and Good Morning contain fragments of unhappy school days. With time on their hands, Lennon and McCartney found their minds free to wander, to drift into the past.

Lennon and his wife, Cynthia, had bought a mock-Tudor mansion in Surrey. He was determined to see more of his three-year-old son, Julian. But family life was an ordeal: he took drugs nearly every day and was "unconnected, moody, distant and unpredictable", Cynthia Lennon wrote in her 2005 biography, John. In November, he met Yoko Ono at an exhibition she held in London. She reportedly passed him a card that said, "Breathe." It was a turbulent time, out of which he would write some of his best music.

McCartney, meanwhile, kept tinkering with music-hall comedy, the sort of tunes his father used to play to him on piano. Sergeant Pepper is in many ways McCartney's album, yet Lennon's role, though secondary, is crucial. Without it the record may not have risen beyond old-fashioned melody and cheery whimsy.

It is Lennon who slips in the euphoric sigh at the start of Lovely Rita, and the wife-beating verse in Getting Better, and the line, "It couldn't get much worse." As McCartney's brass band marches merrily down the street, Lennon is lost in the bending mirrors, swirling apparitions and glass-eyed dolls of the fun fair. "Don't you think the joker laughs at you — ha ha!" If ever the Beatles got too sweet, it was Lennon who supplied the necessary, off-key note.

"The Hendersons will all be there, late of Pablo Fanques Fair" — he took the words of For the Benefit of Mr Kite verbatim from a Victorian circus poster he found while rifling through an antique shop in Kent. The song is so narcotic and trance-like that Beatles detectives hunting for meaning assumed Mr Kite flying high, or Henry the Horse dancing the waltz, was code for heroin. No, said Lennon, they were just words on the poster.

Similarly, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was not LSD but the name of one of Julian's drawings. It was hard to believe, especially since Lewis Carroll, to whom Lucy in the Sky pays homage, was an opium smoker. But, Lennon said, drugs only open what is already in the mind. The boat drifts down the river, past rocking-horse people and flowers that grow incredibly high. Shapes are distorted, plasticine porters come to life, the sky is made of marmalade. It is a hallucination of an English childhood.

More than any other song on the record, Lucy in the Sky was said to have inspired the hippy movement. But as historian Dominic Sandbrook shows in two recent books on the 1960s, few Britons were touched by flower power, free love and swinging London. The country was getting richer, but two-thirds of people still saw themselves as working class, half lived in housing estates and barely more than a

third owned cars, which is why the man from the motor trade had such spivvy glamour. The soundtracks of South Pacific and The Sound of Music easily outsold any Beatles album.

The '60s, though, would change Britain as they changed other places. But not yet: on Sergeant PepperLennon and McCartney steep themselves in the lower-middle-class world they knew as  children. It was a world where an elderly couple might rent a cottage on the Isle of Wight if it's not too dear; where a man woos a working girl by taking tea with her on a sofa, chaperoned by a sister or two. As soon as Harrison finishes philosophising on Within You, Without You, his sitar is chased away by McCartney's clarinet and his homespun, "When I get older, losing my hair …" We've ditched the Maharishi and are back in Maidenhead.

In this way Sergeant Pepper goes against the grain of most pop music. Rock stars are by definition upwardly mobile. At first, they embody the spirit of the streets and town they come from. But as they get famous, they lose that connection. Feted, harassed, living in hotels, they inhabit a surreal world in which only the best retain the ability to make good music.

In 1966 and 1967, Lennon and McCartney, having rarely written about local life, write about it all the time. The drift of Sergeant Pepper is downwards, into domesticity and respectability, but with a hint of something repressed behind it.

EVEN McCartney catches it. Penny Lane is a sepia photograph of settled, decent vanishing England. The nurse sells remembrance poppies, the fireman carries a portrait of the Queen. But as the barber shaves another customer and the banker waits for a trim, "the fireman rushes in, from the pouring rain, very strange". Something is amiss … what is it?

It is English weirdness — born, as always, in the tight conformity of ordinary life. It is Alice reading on the river bank before she goes down the rabbit hole; Mole throwing in his spring cleaning to tunnel up to the river bank and the wide world. It is the hobbit in his home in the Shire before the dwarves and wizard come knocking. It is Tory MPs dressed in women's underwear, and the mother of Sex Pistols guitarist Glen Matlock complaining of the shame of her name being associated with that filthy band: "The girls at the Gas Board are all calling me Mrs Sex Pistol."

During the time of Sergeant Pepper, Lennon was reading The Daily Mail, the sour voice of middle England. The heir to the Guinness fortune had killed himself in a car crash. On the next page was a story about the need to fill 4000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire. "I read the news today, oh boy" — Lennon wrote in A Day in the Life with The Daily Mail open beside him on the piano.

Who knows what the song means? The artist makes images, the audience imagines. Old England is breaking down, the lights have changed. Nobody knows or cares if the dead man is from the House of Lords. The English army wins the war; people turn away. Two years later, Lennon will return his MBE in protest against Britain's support for the Vietnam War.

It is his song, yet the vital middle verse is McCartney's: the alarm clock of his common man shatters Lennon's fantasy. McCartney said the words were a memory of school days. But it might equally be a middle-aged bank clerk, comb dragged across his head to keep his thinning hair in place. Cup, coat, hat … no time to think until he climbs to the bus's top deck and has a smoke "and somebody spoke and I went into a dream".

Is it Afghan hash? More likely a Woodbine. The music soars over the red post boxes and neat, wet streets, but the words are plain: a lonely heart dreams of love. It is McCartney who writes the hesitant, yearning line, in which the riot of the '60s is locked up inside English reserve: "I'd love to turn you on." If A Day in the Life is Lennon and McCartney's greatest song, it is because their competing visions perfectly meshed. They never would again.

In 1969 McCartney married an American, Linda Eastman. But he stayed in England. Even at the age of 64, a bitter divorce with his second wife in train and no sign of the old age by the fireside he once imagined, he retains the chipper goodwill that so endears him to his countryfolk.

Lennon married Yoko Ono and became John Winston Ono Lennon, the middle names catching the ambivalence he felt for his home. Three years later he left it for virtual exile in New York, and would never return, or write about it again. Sergeant Pepper is his last, bittersweet ode to England.

Or maybe not. Maybe it's just a bunch of songs. Whole lives have been wasted trying to divine messages in Beatles songs, playing records backwards and all that. But as Lennon later sang, "here's another clue for you all". In the album artwork the four appear as members of the band and as Madame Tussauds waxworks, frozen figurines, English kitsch. In the inside photo, Lennon has stitched onto his sleeve, mockingly or fondly, the Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom.

James Button is Europe correspondent.

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