#but I really genuinely think Micky had the best of intentions

[genericruleroftheflies]

It kinda makes me sad that some people will (maybe hypothetically) see Micky Dolenz wore a “Native American style” headdress to Monterey Pop Festival and think he was participating in cultural appropriation.

Because, he truly believes/d he is of Native American descent. His headdress was meant to be appreciation to his heritage. AND when asked by a tribe in need to donate money to help members who had been wrongly imprisoned… he put his money where his mouth was.

So, like sure it might have been some (mostly) American white ignorance, but at the very least he wasn’t doing it all for show. He really care about a culture he thought was part of his own.

And he also (kind of, maybe unrelated but similar) went through a journey of having to definitively decide to NOT straighten his hair anymore. Which… might not sound huge but in the 60s that was A CHOICE. Especially when as a CHILD like a little boy he was one tv where they dyed his hair blonde so he seemed like a more picturesque, ideal American boy.

And, not to make it a side note, but one of the songs he wrote specifically mentions and calls to questions why Native Americans (Indians) are living in the worst land we have to offer in America.

All that to say, there’s room for criticism AND I think he was genuine in his attempt to care and bring attention to issues facing Native American people in the 1960s. And when challenged head on to support them, he did.

[iristhemessenger]

Just for a moment, dance with me?

My very first Wayhaven fic, in the spirit of sharing more F content! <3

Pairing: Felix Hauville/f.Detective (Eris Evergreen)

Summary: Eris' life has been anything but simple these days, her thoughts heavy with the safety of her town and the bloodthirsty monster who threatens them all. She just needs a moment, one blissful moment to take her mind off of it all and Felix may be just the person to help her out. After all, how can she say 'no' to that charming smile?

The song "Cheerleader" of course belongs to Omi, and is a personal favorite for those days when you just feel like dancing to something with a little bop. ^-^

                                                             ~ * ~

“When I need motivation

My one solution is my queen

'Cause she stay strong (yeah yeah)

She is always in my corner

Right there when I want her

All these other girls are tempting

But I'm empty when you're gone

And they say

Do you need me?

Do you think I'm pretty?

Do I make you feel like cheating?

And I'm like no, not really 'cause

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her”

For such a small town where barely anything happens, Eris will never understand how she still manages to find a towering stack of paperwork and reports on her desk nearly every morning, demanding her attention as she eyes the pile wearily. It has been a quiet day, all things considered, giving her more than ample time to make a good dent in said paperwork.

Most of them are small things, little complaints lodged by bickering neighbors or elder members of the community expressing their displeasure with the local youth who wander the streets, playing their music too loud or generally just standing around and being a nuisance.

She is not sure how many times she’s had to explain to Mrs. Henderson, one of Wayhaven’s regular complainants, that young Micky Roads and his small group of friends were not part of some drug-peddling gang, merely enthusiastic beat-boxers who preferred to share their music with the rest of the town than in the confines of his mother's basement.

Still, she should be thankful that such petty grievances are her only worries these days. What with Murphy running around still free, a part of her had been anxiously waiting for the phone at the station to ring yet again, signalling another death at the crazed vampire’s hands. Yet another life she had failed to protect, just like Garret Hayes.

She knows there's nothing she could have done in the grand scheme of things, but that only alleviated her guilt by a small margin. She was supposed to protect the innocent, supposed to be someone they could turn to in their time of fear and need but this...with Murphy, her blood, her mother, Unit Bravo and the Agency. It was all too much, and so out of her realm of control and understanding.

How was she supposed to prepare her town, her people, for such chaos without causing wide-spread panic among the residents of Wayhaven. If they even believed her at all, that was.

She wouldn’t blame them if they called her batty, no pun intended, this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she expected to be dealing with when she took on the title of detective for the town. The police academy didn’t exactly train one for handling bloodthirsty, serial killing supernaturals.

She was tempted to write them a letter, to correct that particular oversight.

Not that it would do much good, she knew her mother would only destroy any such evidence against the Agency through her, she was guessing at this point, numerous contacts in order to maintain the secrecy of their shadow agency and dealings with the supernatural.

“Good morning, detective!” A familiar, jovial voice calls out, breaking the silence and her own morose thoughts.

Looking up from her desk, Eris can't help the smile that almost involuntary spreads across her face upon seeing her guest. It’s nothing compared to the dazzling smile that greets her in return as Felix saunters into her office. Eyes so intent on her she fidgets in her chair a little, unused to such undivided attention.

“It’s my turn to escort you home this fine evening.” He explains, giving her a once over that has goosebumps prickling over her skin under his appreciative gaze. “Though, admittedly, you are much finer.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow, confused. “Not that I am complaining, but I thought it was Mason’s turn to take me home tonight?”

It had become the new norm at this point, the members of Unit Bravo taking turns escorting or babysitting her throughout the day while the others patrolled the town and surrounding area for Murphy.

She had already spent a delightful morning with Adam.

Sarcasm heavy on the 'delightful' as the leader of the vampiric agents had made no attempt to hide his annoyance when she'd insisted on a small outing from the station to Haley's bakery, for her regular morning caramel macchiato and blueberry scone. Citing the venture as 'inadvisable' and 'ridiculously foolhardy' when the station already had a (semi) working coffee machine in the break room.

The fact that it made coffee that looked and tasted like tar was, of course, of no concern to him.

Seeing Felix after an entire morning of that, and a few more mysteriously dented filing cabinets and a now unusable soap dispenser in the men's room, was honestly a breath of fresh air.

Nothing against Mason, who she suspected was finally beginning to warm up to her (he’d even begun to put out his cigarettes during their car rides back to her home, knowing how much she disliked the smell) but she found that she enjoyed spending time with Felix.

The younger vampire’s mere presence seemed to set her at ease, in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Whether it was his constant string of jokes, as strange as they could be sometimes, or his boundless optimism, whatever it was she sorely needed that right now.

“Ah, well��” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, unwilling to admit that Mason had only agreed to switch their shifts because he had all but begged the older vampire until he’d grown fed up with his nagging. “Adam decided to take him out to patrol the warehouse district again for signs of Murphy or a potential hideout. So, you get me for the afternoon instead, if that's ok by you?”

There's a slight hint of uncertainty at the end of his usually confident southern drawl, one he hopes she doesn't catch into.

"Of course it is!" She nods, and he is happy to see her smile, genuine and honest, still in place. Not to mention he'd noted the slight jump in her pulse and heartbeat when he’d announced himself earlier, making his own grin widen. "I always enjoy your company."

"Careful detective, keep buttering me up with sweet words and I'll never want to leave you alone." He teases, with a wink for good measure.

"Oh, heavens forbid." She teases back without missing a beat, shuffling some papers on her desk. "How would I ever manage?"

Felix is practically beaming now down at her, basking in their easy banter. He enjoys these stolen moments with the detective, who was infinitely more fun than patrol duty. Even if at some point he knew they would eventually have to part ways, he would take what he could get. He wanted to savor the time with Eris while he could, and if she were amenable to his flirting and interest, even after discovering their true nature, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn her away.

“I’m almost done with these reports” She sighs, “just waiting on some paperwork from Tina and we’ll be good to go if that sounds ok?”

He watches her as she stretches her arms high above her head, in an attempt to ease the stiffness that has made its way through her body. Her back arches in the chair, chest lifting forward, revealing every soft, and ample curve beneath her light blue t-shirt. The young vampire licks his top lip.

“More than ok, excellent even.”

His voice is smoother than silk when he answers, and she swears something breaks within her at the sound of it, leaving her flustered as she catches his eye. She clears her throat, sinking back into her chair.

"Alright then, good...that's...good."

Without another word, but his usual, cocky grin now firmly plastered on his face at a job well done, the agent makes himself comfortable. Draping his body across what has now become his usual chair in her office, feet in the air he crosses his arms across his chest and settles in.

As uncomfortable as the chair itself was, as he often complained, for some reason he continued to stake his claim, flopping into that particular chair every chance he got.

The fact that it was close to her desk, giving them both a clear view of the other, was a nice side benefit to be sure.

It's not long before the quiet she'd found herself in before returns, as Felix does his best not to disturb her. She appreciates his effort, though she can tell it is a trying endeavor as she catches his feet twitching.

In an attempt to alleviate his boredom, she turns on her radio. It's already tuned in to her favorite station, and soon the office is filled with music and she can't help but smile softly as a pleased grin spreads across the vampire's shapely mouth.

Felix, for his part, is grateful to find the station plays modern, up to date songs. Not that he didn’t like the music Nate often played, per say, but it did lack a certain energy to it that Felix craved.

Keeping a not-so-subtle eye on the detective, he is happy to see she seems to be of the same mindset. While looking over a few documents, she unconsciously begins to bob her head to the catchy, upbeat rhythm of a song Felix knows well.

To his extreme delight, he even sees her begin to follow the words, perfectly lip-syncing every lyric as she continues to follow the beat.

He watches her lips as they move, soft, pink, a little chapped and bare of any lipstick or gloss. Aside from the barest hint of eyeliner and complimentary eye shadow, he notes she doesn’t wear much make-up. Preferring a more natural look, which suits her well he thinks.

Felix soaks it all in, this moment with her. Unguarded, relaxed, being here with Eris. It felt, so natural and right. He’d never felt like this before with another person, aside from his teammates. He wants to keep it, keep her, but he does his best from getting too excited, just in case.

She’s been very receptive to his flirting, albeit a tad shy which he found adorable, allowing him to savour the growing attraction between them. But, he couldn't help but wonder. What about something…more?

He’s brought out of his own thoughts when her eyes, dark blue like sapphires, catch his. She instantly straightens, brushing a strand of long, black hair behind her ear and clears her throat.

“I, uh, I really like this song...” She admits biting her bottom lip, embarrassed at having been caught.

Felix only smiles, loving the soft blush that blossoms over her fair skin as her pulse quickens.

“You have excellent taste,” His eyes sparkle impishly. “This is one of my favorites too! I wonder what else we have in common, we should definitely take the time to find out...”

He practically purrs the last part, and she can’t help but laugh nervously at how easily he manages to fluster her.

“Back in college I used to be a member of this dance team, and this song was a part of one of our regular routines...” She confesses, voice trailing off as she realizes what she's just said.

Gods, why was she telling him this?! It wasn’t something she advertised, exactly. Though, there had been the occasional incident where Verda or Tina had walked in on her jamming out in her office in an attempt to blow off steam after a particularly nasty meeting with the mayor or a run-in with Bobby.

To her surprise, instead of laughing at her like she expected, Felix jumps out of his chair so suddenly she barely sees him before he is leaning excitedly over her desk. His face is so close to her own, she nearly falls backwards, chair and all at the sudden proximity.

“Show me?!” His excitement is hard to deny, and she finds herself smiling at his enthusiasm.

“S-show you? Like, now, here in the office?” She repeats, receiving a vigorous nod in return.

“Yeah, it’ll be much more fun than just waiting around for those reports. Besides, you can’t not show me after letting that juicy bit of information slip just now.”

He can’t be serious, she thinks, but looking into those earnest eyes, so open and honest, she knows there’s no way he isn’t. They’ve spent enough time together at this point for her to get a sense of the young vampire’s exuberant nature, and, lacking anything else of immense interest to distract him, she knows there’s no getting out of this without refusing him flat out.

The very notion of telling him ‘no’ and potentially losing that bright smile of his doesn’t exactly sit well with her either, for reasons she doesn’t care to dwell on. So, sighing dramatically, she reluctantly gets out of her chair.

“Ok, ok…it’s been awhile so bear with me.” She says, moving to the middle of the room.

Shaking her arms and legs a bit, Eris takes a few steadying breathes in an attempt to quell her nerves. A difficult task considering she is now the focus of Felix’s attention, those amber eyes of his trained solely on her.

She has to think on it a bit, moving her feet and arms in various motions and poses before the movements become familiar again and, smiling like a fool, she is able to recall the entire routine from muscle memory until she is gliding and bopping across the floor of her office like she used to during her college days.

For a single, blissful moment, she forgets where she is. Caught in the nostalgia of her memories and the music.

Simpler, happier times when the world made sense. Before everything turned upside down, before poor Janet and Garret's deaths. Before her mother and Unit Bravo came crashing into her town, and life. Before she found herself being hunted down by a psychopathic vampire for a mutation within her blood she never knew she had before a few days ago.

Just dancing, in the quad with her former classmates and friends. Laughing, letting all their worries melt away as they practiced their routines. Improvising along the way, goofing off and having a good time despite the pressures of upcoming exams and troublesome boyfriends or girlfriends.

Felix watches her the entire time, absorbing the routine with such an immersed focus she can’t help but feel the heat creeping up along her neck to the tips of her ears. Especially when his eyes seem to stray to her swaying hips, his interest blatant and intense.

Swallowing hard, she comes to an abrupt stop and laughs awkwardly. Staring at the floor, with it’s uninteresting color palette. “Welp, yeah…that’s it!"

I’ll just go die of embarrassment now , she groans internally as she turns back to her desk.

“No, wait!” He stops her, reaching out to catch her by her arm. She shivers. The touch of his hand on her bare skin sends a pleasant warmth throughout her body, traveling all the way down to her toes. It's not dissimilar to the same feeling she'd experienced the day they'd gone to Kate's, when he'd ventured to touch her before getting back into her poor, beat up hatchback.

He feels it too, staring down at where his hand grasps her forearm. His smile softens, and he takes the moment to brush his thumb along her skin. As if relishing the touch and the sensations it gives them both, and she relaxes into the touch. “I really liked it, your dance. I think I got the moves down, let me try it with you, please?”

She only hesitates a moment as she considers, before nodding. He releases her, though he appears reluctant to do so. To her own surprise, she also feels a pang of regret at the loss of contact.

Grabbing her phone from her desk, she opens up her playlists on her music app. It doesn't take her long to find the song she's looking for, despite the numerous playlists she has collected over the years.

Music had always been therapeutic for her, a means of escaping or dealing with the world in the absence of her mother. Dancing was an extension of that, a fun hobby that had helped her work off stress and gain a few friends along the way.

And now, here in her office, during what had to be the most chaotic time of her life, she was able to share it with Felix. Grinning at the thought, she positions her phone upright before pressing play. The same song from the radio begins anew, and she returns to her position in the center of the room.

This time, Felix happily sidles up next to her, so eager she can practically feel him vibrating with barely contained excitement. She’s never met anyone with so much raw energy before, and she’s sure not even Tina could match him in sheer vivacity.

As they begin the routine, Eris can't help but think he would have made an excellent addition to her former dance team. In more ways than one, she decides after they run through the steps a few times. He's a quick learner, following her lead, and perfectly imitating every movement..

Surprisingly, it’s not long before they fall into an easy groove. Their timing, uncertain and new at first, quickly becomes almost second nature by the time they all but perfect the routine and soon they find themselves laughing and smiling as they lose themselves to the rhythm. Felix is a natural performer, his movements graceful yet laced with his usual cheer and vibrance, as they dance to the hip-hop tempo of the song.

“She walks like a model

She grants my wishes like a genie in a bottle (yeah yeah)

'Cause I'm the wizard of love

And I got the magic wand

All these other girls are tempting

But I'm empty when you're gone

And they say

Do you need me?

Do you think I'm pretty?

Do I make you feel like cheating?

And I'm like no, not really 'cause

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her”

Eris can only imagine how they would look to the rest of the station, if Tina or Verda, or god-forbid Douglas, walked in on them at that moment. There would be no end to the heckling she’d endure, that was for sure but for now it didn’t matter. They were carefree and safe behind these four walls, away from the troubles that haunted her outside of the sanctuary of her office.

The song eventually ends, but her playlist goes on, queuing up the next song in her library. It's another dance hit, one she recalls often being played in the local bars and dance halls that she and her friends would frequent. Dancing long into the night, until they were a merry band of sweaty limbs and clothes, high off the adrenaline and fruity cocktails plied by the bartenders and eager would-be paramours.

“Ah, hell yeah!” Felix laughs, “this is another good one! Your playlist is fire, detective.”

Without pause, they throw themselves into the new song, adding their own unique bit of flair here and there as they dance.

“Any cool routines go with this one?”

She shakes her head as she shimmies and rolls her hips playfully around the vampire, who watches her closely. “Nope! Completely freestyle, think you can handle that?”

“Oh, I can more than handle…” He promises, rolling his lips suggestively. He beckons her, wagging his finger in a come-hither gesture. “Show me what you got, detective?”

She laughs, mirth bubbling over.

For the first time since all of this mess started she feels light, her natural endorphins kicking in and setting her at ease.

When the moment presents itself, Felix takes the opportunity to take her by the hand. Twirling her here and there, bringing her closer as her back falls against his chest before whipping her away once again. He's quick on his feet, and thanks to her years of experience, dancing with numerous partners Eris finds herself able to match and meet his pace with little trouble as the two moved in tandem.

Soon enough, they find themselves swaying together. It’s the closest she’s ever been, physically, to the younger agent by themselves. A fact that Felix seems to pick up on as well, though he feels very little inclination to resume any distance between them. If anything, he takes advantage of the moment, eyes eagerly seeking her’s as he dares to rest his hand on her waist.

The touch sends an instant jolt up her spine, but she doesn't push him away. Instead, she melts into him, meeting his gaze and welcoming the heat that has been building between them.

She’ll never get over how beautiful his eyes are. Like gemstones, sparkling gold and striking. She could lose herself in them forever. It’s amazing how easily they fall into each other, as if they’d been dancing together for years.

“This kind of music and dancing is definitely more my speed, not like the fancy ballroom dancing Nate likes. Though, he is really good at it.” Felix breaks the tension, laughing lightly. “He did teach me a few fun moves too.”

She barely hears him, but smiles and nods anyways. The blood pumps loudly in her ears, heart racing as she feels the sweat begin to drip down her temple. It’s been awhile since she went this hard. Usually, even her most energetic dance sessions were within the safe confines of her apartment. Felix, frustratingly, looks unperturbed by all their physical exertion. Yet another vampire perk, she guessed.

"Here comes the dip!" He announces suddenly, leaving her only a fraction of a second to react as he suddenly drops her downward.

Her arms reach out, instinctively wrapping around his neck to keep from falling. He may not have the sheer muscle mass or height of his companions, but Eris can feel the strength in Felix's arms and neck as he holds her tightly. He’s slender, but solid.

"Don't worry, I got you!" He laughs, lilting voice taking on a huskier tone as he speaks. "I won't let you go, unless you want me to…though, that may be a bit difficult. I kind of like holding you like this.”

Eris feels her heart skip a few beats as she processes his words. Chest rising and falling as she attempts to catch her breath, the heat that had momentarily been abandoned returning full force, crackling in the sparse space left between them.

Charged and tempting, like a favorite candy left unsupervised on the table. All one had to do was give in, indulge in that first, sweet taste...

“Well, you two seem to be having fun.”

Startled, Eris looks up to see Verda standing in the doorway of her office. There is no mistaking the twinkle in his eye, or the amused twitch to the corner of his mouth and suddenly Eris feels the need to bury herself in a deep, deep hole. Beside him, or more like towering behind him, is an all too familiar, and exceptionally handsome face.

“Felix, this is hardly what I’d call escorting Eris home.” Nate sighs. Despite his soft rebuke, she can still see a small, indulgent smile on the man’s face.

“Oops, sorry Natey!” Felix laughs, quickly helping her back to her feet. “We were just having a bit of fun. Right?"

He shifts his gaze back to her, eyes bright, still filled with the vigor of their dancing and the sizzling remnants of their lost moment.

"Sorry, Nate it's my fault." Eris tries to apologize, smoothing the wrinkles from her shirt. It was more a joint effort, if she was being honest, but she was also the one who gave into Felix's request in the first place. So, she felt somewhat responsible for their delay.

It felt silly, like being caught by a parent with a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner. Not that she would know what that was like.

"I'd be inclined to believe that, Eris. However, Felix has a much longer track record than you when it comes to belying his duties." He says, casting a knowing look at said agent.

Felix only smiles with a shrug, looking perfectly unapologetic.

She chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. "Welp, I tried. Never let it be said I didn’t try to defend your good name.”

“Detective!” Placing a hand to his chest, Felix sighs dreamily. “My personal knight in shining armor. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

"I just came to deliver these for you, from Tina." Verda chimes in, passing the manilla envelopes to the still-grinning Eris.

"And where did Tina get off too?''

Now, his smile vanishes, "she left work a little early so she could try and catch Kate at the dental office, drive her home...poor woman has been on autopilot since her son's passing…"

A somber silence falls over the room, the reality of death reclaiming the once vibrant and merry atmosphere. It's almost suffocating.

Nate clears his throat, thankfully breaking the sudden quiet that blankets them all.

"Well, let's be off then before Adam comes looking for us both." Eris cringes, she can only imagine the stiff lecture that would follow if that ended up happening.

"Let me file these away, then I'll grab my coat and meet you two out front?"

"Sounds good." Nate agrees with a soft smile, warm brown eyes alight in good cheer.

After Felix, Nate is another member of Unit Bravo who sets Eris at ease. The man exuded a natural warmth and openness that was hard to resist, not to mention rare, for which she was grateful for. A stark contrast to the other two members of their team who were currently not present.

"A good night to you then, Eris." Verda nods, "I am going to call it a day, Eric and the kids have dinner waiting for me. Mustn't let it get cold, I’d never hear the end of it."

She smiles, nodding. "Have a good night, Verda. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, say ‘hi’ to the family for me."

The vampires move to follow the pathologist out of her office, Felix gracing her with another wink as he trails after Nate to wait outside.

"Hey, Felix." She calls out, before he disappears.

He stops in the doorway, turning back to smile at her. "What's up, detective? Itching for another dance already, because I wouldn’t say no to that."

"No, I mean - I would, it's just…" she runs a hand through her hair, letting out a breath. How did he always manage to get her so worked up? "Thank you."

"For what?" He asks, smile dropping a little in confusion.

"For...taking my mind off things. I was kind of in a funk before you came to get me, and the dancing just now...well, it really helped. So, thank you for that."

Eris thinks she's seen most of Felix's expressions by this point, the agent has varying degrees of excitement and cheer, whether genuine or cheeky. Occasionally somber, like he had been with Kate. But the look on his face now could only be described as, well, almost bashful.

"I, heh, well...your welcome, then." Eris blinks, surprised at his response. She's never quite heard him at a loss for words before. He turns away, rubbing the side of his neck. Was he, was he blushing? "Always here to help…"

He laughs, the sound not at all like his usual loud, boisterous laugh. More like a self-conscious chuckle, as he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I, uh...I better get to Nate, before he thinks I am holding you up again. Don’t keep me-us waiting too long, alright?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of my presence, even for a few seconds.” She jests, enjoying the leverage she seems to have gained over the normally unflappable flirt.

He stares at her, as if he’s never seen anything quite like her before bursting into another nervous laugh. “Your something else, you know that?”

With that, Felix tears himself away and she smiles at his retreating back. It was nice to know she could throw the usually charming and cheeky agent off of his game, giving him a taste of his own medicine every once in a while was very cathartic for all the times he managed to leave her a stammering mess.

Still, biting her bottom lip in thought as she recalls the heated moment they'd shared, she wonders what would have happened had Nate and Verda not shown up. How much of this, all the flirting and back and forth, was simply a fun distraction for the vampire who seemed to draw her in so effortlessly with his easy smile and otherworldly eyes.

He seemed the type to love them and leave them, moving on to the next new and interesting thing that caught his fancy. Though, it felt wrong to think of him like that, as if there was still so much more to him she had yet to see and understand. Maybe there was more to him, hidden beneath the charming smiles and quick quips, waiting for the right person to take an interest and a closer look.

Watching her from a short distance, lingering at the station's entrance, she can't see the soft amber eyes that mirror her own musings. Wondering if maybe she might take him up on that second dance, just the two of them, and where it might lead.

Would it be so bad, he thinks. After this whole mess with Murphy was settled, he knew they'd be called away again to god-knows wherever they were needed next. But, watching the detective as she finished her day's work, catching the way she smiled softly as she mouthed a few familiar words from the song they'd danced to just moments ago, he feels a sudden, anxious kind of excitement pull at his chest at the possibilities.

Until then, Felix forces himself to turn away. With a spring in his step, he replays the feeling of her skin against his own, the beating of her heart, her enticing aroma surrounding him, overwhelming his senses. Snuggling into his thick, cotton scarf he savors the memory. Bracing himself for the cold, and Nate, both waiting for him outside the warmth of the station.

He would definitely need to see about that second dance, he decides with some conviction. Hopefully, before they were forced to return to their lives before all of this killing and madness.

With a wide grin, he hums happily, the same tune that he would now forever associate as their song to their first dance.

~ * ~

“Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her

She gives me love and affection

Baby did I mention, you're the only girl for me

No I don't need a next one

Mama loves you too, she thinks I made the right selection

Now all that's left to do

Is just for me to pop the question

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her.”

                                                            ~ * ~

Below is a link to the routine I had in mind when picturing Felix and Eris’ dancing, if you're curious, choreo by Blacka Di Danca ft. Fraules <3

Thank you for reading! I have a few more stories in mind for Flirty Hotville, so he may be making an appearance again here soon…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4E46VmGLc88

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Preferred Pastimes

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x May Carleton Fandom: Peaky Blinders Word Count: 3822 Rating: E/NSFW

“Right,” Tommy says, leaning away from the paddock. “That’s enough of horses.”

May crosses her arms and approaches him with a smirk.

“But that’s why you’re here, Mr. Shelby.” It’s sly, how she articulates his name, aware of Micky and other watchful members of her staff. Truthfully, the address is not for their benefit, but for how Tommy raises his eyebrow at her. She runs a hand over the lip of the enclosure, glancing sideways at the lovely dove-coloured horse beyond. “To assess the progress of Grace’s Secret.”

He looks downwards, swift as a fallen drop of rain, and she knows she’s taken the wrong tack. The name he’s bestowed to his racer seems determined to weigh more than the animal itself.

“Do you have another plan for today then?” May pushes on, doing her best to stand firm, not flap and flutter vulnerably like ribbon in the breeze. The breeze is the name, Grace’s Secret―a name with a power she can’t yet chart, but can sense the size of, relative to herself. She must try to let it remain unmeasured.

Tommy has to lift his head to lift his eyes, otherwise they’re blocked by his brim. The anticipation of his stare makes her heart pound.

“Yes,” he says, eyes clearer than any of the crystal in any of her cabinets.

May takes a calculated step towards him and lowers her voice when she replies.

“I might not have to give instructions for fire-lighting at this time of day, but it will still look suspicious for you and I to re-enter the house and sequester ourselves in my bedroom, alone.”

He gives her a genuine smile for that.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“No?”

“No.” After a thoughtful pause, “Later, maybe.”

“So, for now, you don’t want to fuck me, just do business?” she asks lightly. “Isn’t that precisely what I said to you at the Garrison, after which you proceeded to disbelieve me?”

“I was right to disbelieve you,” Tommy accuses, pointing a playful finger at her before tucking her arm up under his and guiding her away from Grace’s Secret. “And mind your bloody language. The ears on these horses are very expensive.”

“Not to mention the training,” May reminds him wryly. She kicks her feet forward in a neat march that has her long skirt straining at the shin.

He scratches his forehead.

“You couldn’t imagine the bills for such a thing. Some of these trainers will take the shirt off your back.”

His warning makes her laugh and hold tightly to his arm, feeling his curious and approving gaze on the side of her face. When they’ve escaped the musk of the stables and their environs, Tommy is faithful to his word, not straying towards the house.

“How often do you drive one of your cars, Mrs. Carleton? Not very, eh?”

He’s up to some mischief, ready with an answer that’s an unimportant presumption―Tommy’s plan will flow forth from his words and the crunch of his shoes on the gravel without May’s response, she can tell. It’s a bit thrilling to be swept up in his sudden ambition for the afternoon. Propelled along on his arm, taking flight does not seem impossible.

“I have a driver, but I do ride in them, you know,” she reminds him when they stop in front of his own automobile.

“One like this though?” He unlatches the door and swings the solid thing wide for her, exposing the taut seat. “There’s nothing like being inside, I promise you.”

Tommy’s eyes are devilish and smug, full of dares and promises. May grips the door, the soft tan leather of her glove just shy of his bare hand, and holds her body straight.

“Should I inquire about your intentions?”

“If you like.”

She wonders how far ahead his mind has travelled. Can he, even now, see them kissing? Does he fiddle with the fastening on her low boots, the way she did this morning? Are her cries for him already in his ears?

“Ought I to get my hat?” is what May asks, stepping up and sliding onto the seat.

“How about you don’t leave my sight and I swear not to make too much of a mess of your hair.”

His swift grin is awfully criminal as he thumps her door closed and circles the front of the car with his hands in his coat pockets, elbows out.

“I thought our schedule was business-only,” she observes once Tommy’s behind the wheel.

He hums, steering for the road.

“I very specifically did not answer that question,” he points out and, no, May supposes he didn’t. She didn’t notice at the time, caught up in the electrification of asking if he wanted to fuck.

Touching the back of her fingers to her mouth as her face pinks, she studies him. The figure he cuts in his coat and his cap and his car. He’s hard to read. It occurs to May that this man endures many attempts at being read, a consequence of his work.

“You might have at least let me get a ride in first,” she berates him, now that he’s got his way. “Shown you how your very expensive horse takes direction. Doesn’t that interest you at all?”

Her gaze shoots to the wheel when Tommy’s fingers rub tenderly, contemplatively over its curve. His stare is resolutely forward.

“To see you ride? I’d rather see you ridden.”

Is it so shocking, these words from a gangster? May doesn’t know what he is, not really, down in the meat of him. She wishes he’d speak like a gangster, he obliges. He uses a drive as a pretense to fuck her, she gets in the car.

“Careful,” she warns, rising above her deepening blush. “You didn’t buy me in an auction.”

“I should get you in the bargain after the way you drove the price up on my horse.” A fleeting furrow of his brow. “Is that what you rich people do for fun?”

“No,” May corrects, watching Tommy extract a cigarette and perch it on his lower lip, “I believe the preferred pastime is luring the object of one’s desire away from their home in the middle of the day for a tryst.”

“The object of my desire,” he repeats at a murmur that bounces his unlit cigarette. Louder, “So why isn’t it you driving me out for a fuck? Inducting me into the ways of the rich?”

“Your vehicle was nearest.”

And she demurely arranges her hair. Tommy turns his head slightly to watch her, eyes remaining on her hand as it falls back to her lap. As his gaze lingers, so does it snap ahead again a moment later.

“Maybe you could reach my matches for me.”

“Much more difficult to extricate than your cigarettes, I’m sure,” she teases.

“They’re down in my pocket and in all the time it might take to feel around for them… well, I’d hate to wreck this car over a box of matches.”

“And us in it.”

“And us in it,” he agrees with a single nod.

May extends her hand halfway towards him.

“I’m to ‘feel around’?”

“Yep.”

It almost makes her laugh, the way he keeps the road alone in his sights. She would swear that she feels in the air how strongly he craves to keep track of her hand. May kills his suspense by folding back his unbuttoned coat and wiggling her hand into his pants pocket. Tommy clears his throat and doesn’t turn his head.

It’s narrow going with him seated like this, very little extra space for her fingers to roam in their searching, but he doesn’t rush her; with his thigh on the other side of his pocket and her glove, there’s no question why.

“I can’t find them,” May states.

“Try from the outside,” Tommy suggests, ever so helpfully.

She withdraws her hand and places it over the site it lately occupied. With her eyes alone, she can see there’s nothing waiting to be mined from his pocket, but she’ll play his game, running her gloved palm downwards until the pleats in the wool smooth out.

He clears his throat once more.

“Perhaps farther in.”

“What unusually shaped pockets you must have.”

“That’s what you get in a suit cut by the Birmingham Chinese.”

It sounds like the beginning of a children’s fairy tale, May thinks, in spite of Tommy’s matter-of-fact manner. How easy he makes it to recall his Gypsy heritage by tantalizing her with quotidian legends. How difficult to know when he is joking.

“Hmm,” she says, and as she abruptly rakes her gloved fingers back up his thigh, Tommy’s leg jumps. “Steady, boy,” May soothes. They both know what the tone of a human voice reserved for horses sounds like.

It does not have a calming effect on this beast.

“The matches, May,” he urges her gruffly.

The colour high on his cheeks, just beneath the punishing blue of the eyes, reminds her of the pink light of sunset hitting her house’s upper panes.

“Take care with your tone,” she counsels, feeling the friction of his trouser leg beneath her glove, rounding to still on his inner thigh. “I am not your employee.”

“And I’m not your fucking broken stallion.”

Tommy grasps May’s hand and hitches it up to rest on his crotch.

“Find anything?” he demands.

She’s too shocked for a moment to make a reply. He’s firming up. May swings an appraising gaze to the side of his face. Wild, this man thinks he is. It’s more than possible. But she will not let him throw her.

“You’re going to be quite disappointed. Not a single match. I’ve searched and searched,” she avows, squeezing until Tommy grunts in crude pleasure.

“I put them in me coat. Just remembered.”

He removes one hand from the wheel and reaches between his coat and his jacket, matchbook visible as it retreats.

“For the sake of you not wrecking the car,” May says, presenting her free hand palm-up. Tommy drops the matches into it and says nothing as she lights his cigarette at last.

When he’s exhaling velvet curls, he says, “You might as well hold onto those for me,” pointing a languid finger at the matchbook wrapped up in her clasp on the seat between them.

“You’re confident, then, that you’ll be able to devise another charade for the drive back?”

“As my brother so often puts it, I’m Tommy fucking Shelby.” He taps the ash away into the wind. “As far as I know, I can do just about anything.”

May’s a fool, already certain of the depth of her belief in him and that this can only ever end in her foolishness being exposed in some way. It won’t be a surprise and he likely won’t notice when it happens because men never do. Stables, cars, boots with maddening laces―none of these are things that prevent women from suffering the disillusioning conclusions to their infatuations. Women are the flame and the moth and wealth is the dust on their wings.

Stroking as the world goes by the window, May almost feels it’s her driving the car. Her suppressed laugh sails over somebody’s field. It’s quieter than the soft scrunch of leather around her fingers as they flex to make Tommy’s hips shift searchingly and his breath change―shivering and smoky like a cracked chimney.

He jerks the automobile to the side of the road, creating an impolite lurch. He’s sliding out from under her hand and the steering wheel before May can properly chastise this changeable amateur gentleman. Her heart pounds like a racehorse’s, her fingers bearing down on his little matchbook, and the way Tommy swings her door wide is like the gate she’s meant to spring from to go barrelling down the track, around and around, to lameness or glory. But she has more composure than that.

May tosses the man’s matches to the seat and steps from the car while he holds the door. Tommy could’ve offered his hand, but it’s better, for a moment, that they don’t touch. Too worked up, the both of them.

She strides to the center of the country road―a lane, really―and hears him shut the door. Looking around reveals how dark it is back on her estate. Flightless, despite its many wings. Eventually, May turns back to Tommy. His hands are deep in his trouser pockets and his waning cigarette dangles. He provides a hundred thousand reasons to watch his mouth.

Eyeing him as he remains standing next to her door (as if he’ll presently have to assist another lady), May rounds to the stripe of grass between the wheels and a shallow ditch. The width is no more than two feet. Tommy might have pulled farther off the road, but with no other cars in sight, it’s true that there wasn’t a need.

He’s followed her.

“Take off your gloves.”

May turns, chin up and defiant.

“My gloves? Why?”

“Because you’re going to want to put them in your mouth.” Tommy waves his cigarette to indicate the landscape. “Lot of low, flat land around here. Barely a copse of trees in the last two miles.” He brings it back to his lips and inhales. “Sound carries.”

And she can imagine it doing just as he says, exactly the way the wind carries the smoke away when he speaks.

The handsome dark hang of his coat obscures any view of his risen cock. It doesn’t matter though―Tommy’s need is apparent in his very fingertips, flicking the end of his cigarette into the ditch. Nothing frivolous for this gangster. May comprehends that he requires a dalliance with her as much as he requires that his horse be trained for Epsom, or that his car be fueled, his cigarette lit. Everything always moving him forward to bear down on his goal. All the gears turning.

Instead of removing her gloves, she takes hold of the open folds of his coat. Tommy allows her this and licks his lower lip before rubbing his thumb across her chin.

“Your makeup,” he says, voice full of grit from his last suck of smoke. “It’s purple, like a bruise.”

He means her lipstick, of course, as it’s May’s mouth he has his gaze fixed on. She stays quiet and breathes the sharp air quickly through her nose.

“Reminds me of something healing. As though the hurt has already passed.”

This is unusually profound of him and gives her the sense of seeing suddenly through a window you believed to be a mirror. A depth May nearly trips and falls into. Like this damned ditch behind them.

“Tommy,” she presses, and this time he steps close to her body, removing his hand from her face to allow their mouths to connect, lock.

May slots her hands inside his coat, holding his waist below the straps of his holster. Of course, Thomas Shelby is armed. He uses her less aggressive grasp to his advantage, forcing her abruptly back against the car, lips parting hungrily as though he will consume her. She unbuttons her coat swiftly while they toss steamy exhalations back and forth. And then the heat of their bodies collides, some lost, but more created all the time―his clever fingers brushing her coat down from her neck and shoulders, hers clutching the waist of his pants, dropping to his cock.

Tommy strips the outer layer from her, harsher than she imagines he would skin a buck, and stuffs the coat through the car window. May’s hands move to his jaw because there’s no question he’ll want to handle the lower business himself. His fingers graze hers as they pass. Unfastening his trousers, he closes his eyes and she is overwhelmed by the tension in his neck. On her. On her is where it will be released.

His strong hands fumble for her hips, bunching her skirt as he turns her to face the car. May’s dizzy, hot and cold, still wearing her gloves. It’s unclear how serious Tommy’s command for their removal was until she places her palms on the side of the car and he reaches to tug at a glove with one hand, the other now on the skin of her bare thigh, skirt gathered high.

“I’m not putting those in my mouth,” May says forcefully, assisting Tommy in striping them from her fingers.

“Better give them to me then.”

His suggestion is a murky breath low on the back of her neck. She feels his lips touch down fleetingly as he collects the gloves from her and, presumably, stores them away in his coat pocket.

May has a glance over her shoulder.

“You aren’t keeping them.”

A surprising smile makes Tommy youthful. He stamps it onto her mouth.

“No, Mrs. Carleton. I wouldn’t dare.”

“Now I really don’t believe you,” she pants as his fingertips navigate the line of her garter belt’s strap like he’s walking a cliff’s edge.

Unexpectedly, he grabs meaty hold of her backside. May never believed his mania for a fuck in the countryside would permit a state of complete undress, but the fact of him sliding down her knickers to the lowest latitude her gartered stockings will allow is still and again shocking. Tommy winds his grip idly up her inner thigh. When his other arm comes around her, May grasps it and belts it to her waist for the stability to stave off her own hysteria, rising as he nears the hot place at her center.

Tommy’s nose squashes against her neck and his fingertips run against her, faster as the wetness grows. Since their first meeting, he’s shown May a restlessness she certainly hadn’t known before. She wishes she could pace, pour a cup of tea she won’t drink, something to ease the insensibility of his unhurried caresses. He strokes briskly to the front of her and she shudders.

She’s going to protest when he pries his arm from her grip, but he smoothes his hand down her other arm instead―the full length―until his naked hand rests over hers, braced on the car. May does something vulgar. She reaches down and raises the front of her skirt, keeping it out of Tommy’s way. It’s agreeable to him; his motions become less exploratory, more purposeful. Her hips are jerking and she’s making small, animal cries as he rubs fiercely, tucking his groin against her rear. With his arm looped in an unyielding band around her hip, Tommy drags his freed cock up and down. Her eyes squeeze shut. She pictures his hips rocking doggedly, fine trousers around his ankles on the grass. The pleasure prickles all over her body.

Tommy’s finger, just one, dips more boldly to ring her canal from the inside. So many delicate tasks it has surely accomplished (placing each cigarette between his lips like an artist places a stroke on a canvas). So many brutal ones (slicing to bring eternal darkness to the eyes of the enemies of the Peaky Blinders). Legs quaking, May cries out and buries her mouth and nose in his sleeve. Her muffled sounds crescendo and her hips fit naturally back into his―this is the moment Tommy Shelby chooses to mount her.

The hand greedily cupping and smearing her want falls mere inches to smartly tap the flesh of her inner thigh, widening May’s stance as Tommy hunches and probes. Smoggy gasps in her ear. Robust woolen sleeve on her face. And then, he’s pressing inside and her eyes fly open. It’s outlandish and thrilling, out here in the open, between the gangster and his automobile. He sinks deeper and deeper―or is it higher and higher?―easing up into her. The metal of his car is cold to the touch; Tommy’s fingers are turning white where they grasp between hers.

He fills May fully just the once to start, yet insistently enough to stir the beginnings of a worry that his slow thrust will not desist until he’s lifted her feet off the ground. Madman. She does gasp when he’s fitted himself perfectly inside her (her knees wobble, but the soles of her boots remain on the grass), she has to because it feels as though all of that pressure needs a release valve.

The exhale from Tommy’s lips is rich and rough and sinful and May swoons a little from that, a little from the internal caress, as he withdraws. Like all returns made by the Peaky Blinders, the one where Tommy thrusts back inside her is volatile in arrival and pace. She bites his sleeve and finds the texture ghastly between her teeth, so she yelps into the fabric instead.

“Told you,” he grunts, sliding out and in again as her body jerks, trying to find a pattern in his unpredictable movements. “Should’ve kept the gloves.”

“One of many differences between myself and your horse,” May gasps, “is that I will not tolerate leather in my mouth. Not to bite down on in pain. Not to―unnh!” Tommy scoops his hips and she drops her weight instinctively in pursuit of the feeling. “Not to temper my voice in any circumstance.”

And then May curses ferociously, fingers twisting in her skirt, feeling as though everything, a world’s worth of pleasure, is simultaneously entering and seeping from her.

“What will you tolerate in your mouth, eh?”

His lips smile against her ear. His fingers rub at her unrelentingly. May squeezes her eyes closed as she is tossed between his kindness and his cruelty. Her body knows when to surrender to this puzzle of Thomas Shelby where her mind does not; there’s kick in her hips as she rides him to bliss. Like hell has he been the one riding her.

The end is as violent as smashed glass, wretched as heartache. Also, wonderful. She collapses a little and uses it as a sly method of wiping the tear that runs from the corner of her eye onto Tommy’s sleeve. Who knows how much of her lately-praised plum lipstick is on his coat, her chin, etcetera. He leaves off stroking her with his fingers (thank goodness―May’s aflame there more than anyplace else) to press his palm somewhat tenderly to her abdomen, his hips heaving their last. This touch inspires a horrid flash of an impossible future in which she is pregnant with his child, horrid only in the fact of glimpsing it, the brutality of that false divination. Oh, this will never be a tame man. Nor will she be under his special protection while he remains wild.

Tommy drags himself from her in every way. May hitches and tugs and smoothes and wipes and turns. There are his blue eyes. Her hands are numb, her insides are still in rippling throes. This is what they have: his matches in the palm of her hand, her refusal of a fire in the guest wing.

And horses.

[wordsturnintostories]

show me your rosettes, baby (g)

summary: The world tour is over and the Bangtan Boys finally get their well-deserved break. When Namjoon suddenly can’t find Jimin anywhere, things take an unexpected and pretty unbelievable turn. word count: 1.8k note: so, this is kind of a prologue. please know that I will try my best, but i may update very slowly cause long fics like this take much effort and I wanna do it well. this is my birthday gift to you guys. ✨ warnings: none

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]

The suitcases and bags collide with the carpeted hotel floor in a collective groan. Leather and textile rub against each other and are abandoned as the seven members of Bangtan Sonyeondan rush towards their bedrooms and the en-suite bathrooms, aching for some calm minutes, aching for their beds, aching for just a break.

It’s the second last event of their world tour that they’ve just put behind them. Now, there’s only one more fansign, one more concert, three more days and then, home. Their schedules look like someone’s cut through them with a knife, full full full and then - nothing. It’s gonna be heaven, promises the fine print. Just a few more days, they tell each other and their tattered bodies. We’ll make it through. Fighting.

At least their last concert is already kind of home. Management had been proud to create a framework, have the Love Yourself Tour start in Seoul and conclude in Seoul. To make it feel like they’ve actually rounded the planet. And honestly, that is an aesthetically pleasing thought but of course, there’s a flip-side to this. They have to stay in a hotel in Seoul rather than going home this close to the end. To keep up the concentration and stress level, the tour energy. From a psychological view, it’s probably a legitimate thing, but to the members, it just adds to the desperation. But then again, you can take it this or that way and Bangtan decides to treat it like a 100m sprint athlete who imagines the bathroom to run faster - as an accelerator. They don’t complain, trying their hardest to stick to a positive mindset, grateful they are able to travel and go on tour like this in the first place.

Every single one of the boys follows their personal skincare routine, some (Jungkook) going through it a little more sloppily than others (Seokjin). By now, they can dress, undress, remove makeup and apply their skincare in the dark. Months of touring do that to you. Thanks to the tiredness crawling through their bones and minds, there’s not much talking. Everyone just wants to finally lay their heads down and shut off. However, there’s the occasional cough, sigh or groan, hidden but truthful answers to the question, “are you okay?”

At this point, they aren’t. Calendar pages of exhaustion accumulate and leave the boys shaking, no matter how well they eat or sleep or prepare. Jimin’s got it the worst this time around, apparently, because he keeps getting dizzy spells, keeps throwing up and waking up sweaty and feverish and still insists on pulling through their performances as if nothing ever happened to him. They all know (ARMY doesn’t) and they’ve all talked about this already in an emotional exchange of feelings and facts.

Everyone does this, but Namjoon especially makes sure to check on the suffering younger, always with an open ear and ready hands. Just like he suspected, old issues and insecurities bubble up under the immense pressure of camera flashes and microphones.

Tonight is no different. Namjoon spends probably an hour with Jimin, sending his dongsaeng off to bed with comforting words, a long, rocking hug and painkillers, taking the younger’s temperature and as required, going through the medical sheet that he’ll have to hand over to their personal physical tomorrow.

Jimin still groans in pain when Namjoon leaves, but at least his heart is lighter and he manages a genuine smile before the light turns off.

Namjoon himself doesn’t feel particularly well either, even as his heart fills with gratitude and warmth as he stops by every room to say goodnight to the members. As he feared, his mind is loud and chaotic tonight, brain cells thrumming with excess energy (he can’t say where it’s coming from all of the sudden), running as fast as the engines of the airplane they were on a couple of hours ago. Normally, five tosses are his maximum before he glides off to dreamland. Normally, his head hits the pillow and he’s gone.

But that normally doesn’t happen tonight. An hour passes, a second one almost follows and Namjoon feels overwhelmed by the noise that is intent on cracking his skull open in this silent room. It’s too quiet here when all he’s had in the last months were stadiums full of screaming fans.

At one point, Namjoon’s had enough of this uncomfortable situation. He wanders around a little, pays a visit to the bathroom, googles a few methods to calm down (he already knows all of them, it’s time for humanity to come up with something new already), tiptoes down the hallway to press his ear to the member’s doors, finds the kitchen’s water supply and his own throat treatment package.

He’s swallowing some obligatory supplements when something moves in his vague periphery and in the semi-dark hallway behind the open door. Namjoon freezes, almost drops the glass in his hand. What was that? He catches the glass, thanks God and his reflexes (where have you been all my life?), aware that a shattering glass would have disturbed everyone else.

When he looks back to the hallway, there’s nothing there. Even as he walks over to the door, the entire hallway visible in both directions, there’s nothing unusual. He frowns.

Namjoon’s mind tells him what he saw was a small something, like a small animal, a puppy or a cat maybe. His mind also tells him it can’t be any of their pets because Micky and Tannie and Rapmon and Holly aren’t here (and Rapmon is definitely bigger than that). Thirdly, his mind suggests that they might be in one of those hotels with pets that accompany guests for comfort and stress relief. Maybe management wanted to do something nice for them but forgot to tell them. But then, that’s a strange idea too because in the three hours they’ve been in here, they haven’t seen any animals and they haven’t opened the door to let any in. So where did it come from?

Of course, pet hotel is one hell of an assumption but Namjoon knows he’s definitely seen something. On the other hand, Namjoon’s mind keeps talking, tells him that he should go back to bed, that he is actually a sleep-deprived human being that will break down tomorrow if he doesn’t get rest tonight.

Maybe I just imagined it, Namjoon thinks and wipes his face. I should really get to bed.

But it bugs him, even as he’s under his blanket, so much so that he sees the little shadow over and over again behind his closed eyes. Groaning at himself, he decides to check it out a second time. What if it’s a wild animal from the outside, maybe a misdirected bird? Or a stray cat? With his phone’s flashlight, he lights through the kitchen, through the living room even if he doesn’t really expect the animal to be there. There are only two rooms down the side of the hallway that he thinks the animal might have walked to, and those rooms are Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s. Not wanting to disturb his hyungs, Namjoon tries to keep the light beam to a minimum and quickly closes their doors again.

A muffled, “‘Night, Namjoon” reaches him from Yoongi’s room and he sends the wish back. He huffs. There’s nothing out of the ordinary in either room (it is out of the ordinary to catch Yoongi awake in bed, but he doesn’t mean that) and starts wondering whether he imagined the animal.

I must be really tired, Namjoon concludes. For the third time this night, he slips into his sheets and closes his eyes. Finally calming down, he drifts off.

---

Jimin wakes up in Yoongi’s arms and isn’t quite sure how he got here but he’s incredibly grateful for the prolonged skinship with his hyung. For not being alone. For being taken care of. For the fact that Yoongi accepted him into his bed. Usually, this hyung sleeps alone. The bed is his holy space. No one disturbs him at night.

There is no way to fight off the smile on Jimin’s face. He likes sleeping with Yoongi. It’s peaceful. And Jimin feels refreshed. Which is not a given for Jimin. He looks to the side, where Yoongi’s face is smushed against his pillow, mouth half open and eyes relaxed. Maybe Yoongi has perfected the art of sleeping to the degree that his sleep even energizes the people touching him.

When Yoongi wakes up gradually, the elder seems a little confused at first but sends Jimin a bright smile. His voice is oddly raspy and Jimin thinks it’s still as cute as the first time he’s heard his hyung’s morning voice.

“I dreamt there was a kitten in my bed.” “Really?” “Yeah. A baby cat. But I see now that it was you.” “What does it mean, hyung?” Jimin looks excited, with his eyes becoming bigger and his teeth showing. He cuddles back into Yoongi’s shoulder. “Does it have to mean anything?” “Of course. Taehyung’s halmoni used to say that all dreams mean something.” Yoongi musters Jimin with one open eye. “Is that so?” “Yeah. So, what do you think it means?” “I don’t know,” Yoongi mumbles, “that I should get a cat?” “That’s lame, hyung. Holly would hate to share you. What do you usually dream about?” Yoongi looks at the ceiling, blushing a little. That piques Jimin’s curiosity. He giggles. “Hyung, tell me! You’re so red!” “Shut up,” Yoongi groans and hides his face under the comforter. Jimin crawls under to put his face on his hyung’s chest. “Tell me, hyung. I won’t tell anyone, promise.” Yoongi’s eyes crinkle. “You’re so cute, Jiminie, I swear. It’s not good for my health.” “So, what do you dream of?” “My bed,” Yoongi mumbles, “it’s soft and pretty and warm and never rejects me and-“ Jimin has the urge to laugh but doesn’t want to embarrass his hyung further. “Daydream, daydream,” the younger sing-songs. “No, at night. During the day, I usually dream of Holly or tteokbokki.” “I’m surprised you even find time to daydream, hyung. Sometimes I even wonder if I have time to breathe.” “What do you usually dream of, Jiminie?” “It’s stupid.” Yoongi frowns but his eyes are soft when he pulls a couple of blonde strands of hair out of Jimin’s face. “I’m sure it’s not. Unless you have nightmares. Nightmares are stupid.” Jimin breathes. The warmth of his hyung gives him confidence. “I do get nightmares. But the other nights, I dream of all the things I want to do with Taehyung and Jungkook and all of you guys. Travel cities, visit places, play games, all that.” “That’s beautiful,” Yoongi rasps. There’s adoration in his eyes when he slings an arm around Jimin’s waist to pull him closer. “Let’s doze off until Namjoon drags us out of here.”

Later, during breakfast, Jimin receives compliments on how well-rested he looks. He surprises everyone with a good appetite, food that stays in his stomach, and a relaxed mind that lets him tend to the others. He smiles.

“I do feel better.”

Maybe he should sleep with Yoongi more often.

[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

tags: @xmagicxshopx, @taeshuworld, @justanemptydream, @hoodmeup, @gingerpeachtae

[midnight-watch-committee]

Story 5: the devil and Ms. Vallen

Big Horn Memorial County Hospital, February, 2:03 pm 16th, 2019.

You get kind of used to hospital beds after a while, they’re comfy honestly. Well, comfy is subjective so just take my word that it isn’t horrible. They bring you three meals a day, which was already more than I’m used to when compared to my two, one during school lunch and one in the early morning, a light snack as I leave the house to hold me over. People think that’s weird; one nurse was actually surprised when I told her that and asked why my parents were “so irresponsible.” I never had the heart to tell her, nor anyone else who worked here. They were god sends compared to the people I deal with all the time. I’m a black sheep at school at this point, my fascination with horror and the rush it gives me has always made people question my sanity, their questions often echoed in my mind when I was alone. Maybe it was the never being alone here that really helped me more than anything. Beth, Chuck, my roommates who rotated more than a wheel, the nurses and doctors who came in to check on me. It was nice. It was Chuck’s turn with me now, but Beth was never willing to leave the room when he was here. He had cuffed me to the bed, as was normal for someone to do to a suspect in a hospital, even though I wasn’t. “Can never be too safe” he says every time he slapped them on me. It was bizarre but strangely normal for me at this point.  Beth would always complain about it, at one point even calling the FBI office in Big Horn and insisting he be charged with police brutality after he accidentally cuffed me too tight one time. I laughed way louder than I should’ve when I heard “police brutality” come out of her mouth. Chuck threw some pictures down for me to look at. They still only had Earth Eater evidence, “We’re working on getting more” he’d say if I ever mentioned that they were all from the same day. I was surprised I took so many pictures of the scenes, and how few of them actually mattered. Thank god I had the only picture that mattered back at my place, the one that could tie Beth and eventually all of us back to this. Browsing photos was oddly the best part of my day, besides spending time with Beth when I could. “There really isn’t anything more here than there was last time.” I said, trying to be as gentle yet direct as possible. Chuck let out a sigh “I’m aware of that, Ms. Vallen.” Ms. Vallen... that made me sound like a professional or something. I never bothered to correct him on it, it felt nice to finally have someone actually look at me as a superior. I figured I would try and lighten the mood a little. “So, I think I’m getting discharged today! Maybe I can finally get to see that office you talk so much about hating?” He laughed, his laugh was low and soft and sent a feeling of joy gently rippling through my body. “Maybe you will,” he said, “and maybe you’ll finally get to spend a night in your own bed, whenever she” he gestured towards Beth “feels like leaving you alone long enough to.” I giggled, Beth on the other hand wasn’t such a fan of it. I just think she didn’t like him, but eventually she caved and laughed a little too. He left the pictures, handed me his card like he had a hundred times, shook my hand and left, wishing me and Beth well. Beth sat down next to me and took my hand in hers, sighing. “Juni, do you think he’s on to us?” I... had honestly never thought of that before. I still really don’t, no point in it now a days. I shook my head reassuringly, but I had no real clue, like I said before. She smiled softly, calming down a little bit more, her body going from tensed up to practically melting in the chair. Can’t blame her, it was hot in here. The only time I really got chills in this room is if she asked questions like that. I asked for her to hand me my phone and started checking for things nearby for when I got out. As nice as this place was, I was still the same girl who broke into an abandoned house and found the girl sitting next to me doing the same.

Big Horn Memorial County Hospital, February, 11:55 pm 16th, 2019.

When they said “later today,” apparently hospitals mean more of the later and less of the today part of that statement. The once nice staff were somehow taking their sweet time and tripping over themselves rushing to get me out of there at the same time. I gave Beth a call to let her know I was out and got an annoyed groan and a “give me five minutes.” Lazy as she is, she really did mean five minutes, even though going the speed limit and staying on the road the fastest her and Mickey, my other personal Uber, could’ve gotten here was fifteen minutes. I wasn’t complaining, it was too late for me to do so anyways. I hopped in and hoped there weren’t any approaching sirens. My plans to get ice cream were still on, even if we had to go somewhere a little out of the way. We must’ve looked like drunk college kids, the three of us rolling up to an ice cream place late at night, the only real clothes I had being Micky’s jacket and my hospital gown. While the others browsed the flavors, I snuck off to the bathroom to put on real clothes. The stalls were small, but they were stalls nonetheless so I went in one and locked the door, making sure it was locked a few times before undressing. A scream echoed through the bathroom, sounding like it had come from the stall next to me. I quickly peaked under, half dressed, to see what was going on. I was completely alone in here, my search told me as such. My skin started to crawl, not because I was afraid but quite literally it felt like my skin was... crawling. Imagine the feeling of worms in your arms, that’s what I was feeling.  I quickly reached into my bag trying to find my clothes but magically only being able to find the book. “Nope, nope nope nope NOPE! Not this time! Leave me out of your magic fairy war or whatever the hell it is! My life was normal before I found you!” I screamed at it. I didn’t really mean most of those nopes, but the book didn’t care. It threw itself at my face, as if shushing me and flung open to a page. Reading it, I suddenly noticed I haven’t had my camera for a while. I dug through my bag. Nope. I threw on my clothes and read the page over again aloud. “Mr. Yuki, an artifact hunter who was formerly a warlock who became so corrupted by his own dark magic that in 1982 he turned into the beast Native tribes called a wendigo. Yuki doesn’t survive off of just human flesh, in fact Yuki doesn’t truly need anything to survive as some hunters have noticed. It uses its dark powers and high intelligence to isolate Artifact Bearers and drain their artifacts. Yuki has also been known to steal artifacts from their Bearers for other monsters with dark intentions.” I bolted out of the bathroom, panting. Despite the bathroom being so small it felt like I had been running miles. I grabbed my camera from off Mickey’s neck and put it around mine. He looked at me confused, “Juniper, are you ok?” I nodded before realizing I kinda forgot pants. I made my way back to the bathroom, the feeling slowly subsiding. I sighed and wiggled back into my pants, rolling my eyes at how stupid I was being. I came back out, with pants this time, and came up to the counter, hoping everyone would drop it. Judging from their face though, I wouldn’t be off the hook that easy. At least they still let me get ice cream. I got a double scoop of strawberry and threw whatever money I had in my pockets down on the counter. “Isn’t that a little much for ice cream?” Beth asked, literally counting what I threw down and checking the prices on the board behind the counter, giving him the proper amount of the fifty dollars in varying coins and bills that I had thrown down. I hugged her, shaking. “Why is this my life?” I asked in her shoulder, barely standing from how weak I was feeling. She hugged me tight, not really knowing what to say but still trying anyway. “Juni, you aren’t doing this alone, I know this is hard but we’re doing this together.” She held me out so I could look in her eyes. “I love you.” She said softly, reaching for the camera and slowly lifting it up from around my neck. I grabbed it, whispering “How do I know I can trust you with this?” She sighed and kissed my cheek, and I let go, seeing Mickey's reaction out of the corner of my eye. “Mickey, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever you think of us you-” He held up a hand and cut her off “I’m not mad, I just wish you told me sooner is all. I’m happy for you guys.” That made me feel good. Beth passed it off to Mickey, “I’m not gonna do that but you just got to trust me” he joked, getting a sad yet genuine laugh from me. The cashier handed me my ice cream and we took it with us to go.

The Vallen residence 7:15 am, February 17th,2019.

The sound of the alarm clock beside me filled the room like the cacophony of annoyance it is. I slammed on the broken snooze button a couple hundred times before finally just giving up and letting it beep its heart out. I tiredly rolled out of bed, hitting the floor with a loud thud, a thud loud enough to wake Beth, who was asleep downstairs out of concern for me. The only thing louder than my sudden escape from sleep that morning was the girl who loved me, storming up there before I could even get used to being on the ground for a second. She kneeled down beside me, and asked me the normal stuff you’d expect for someone who just fell out of bed, but with a lot more concern. You could hear her voice shake as she asked me, afraid that I was truly hurt again. I wasn’t but the sentiment was nice, it was new to have someone check up on me, so it definitely caught me off guard. I slowly picked myself up and walked out, the carrot top, who hates when I call her that but in the funny kind of way, stalking closely behind. Her gaze was always on me that morning, whether it was love or fear, it was kind of odd. What was even weirder was I could’ve sworn someone...pushed me out of bed, but I was alone in the room so how was that even possible?

Unnamed forest near the Vallen residence, 10:20 am, February 17th,2019.

There’s only so much of the same four walls you can see before it becomes annoying, and since our ride was probably going to be asleep for a while, I grab my camera and asked Beth if she wanted to go down the nature trail I always go down when things get too much. She agreed and we were off. My normal trail was easy to find, always is when you’ve done it a hundred times. There’re three trails, one for hikers, one for park staff to get back to the watch station, and one no one knows about. For those of you who know me and Beth, it should be no surprise that the old, abandoned trail that no one knows about is the one we took. There, you could see it all, everything nature had to offer. Deer, birds, hell even a bear’s den if you got the balls for it. On the trail was this abandoned mine shaft, covered by boards with stuff like “DO NOT ENTER” horribly spray painted on. Any other day this would’ve flown well with me, but for some reason I wanted nothing more than to go in there. I tried tugging against the boards but they wouldn’t move. “When did you plan on telling me it opened?” Beth asked. “What are you talking about?” I asked, the gentle, cold tap of the “Children’s survival guide” against my arm answering my question. “I came out here because we need to talk about yesterday. And the 14th. And about you.” I turned away, refusing to look at her. “Juni, I understand your need to do this stuff, I really do, but... you need to learn to relax. Let me hold onto... the ‘Artifact’ for a week, trust me, nothing will happen.” I didn’t want to, but the pain in her voice didn’t make me feel like I had much of a choice. She seemed scared, like at any point I could become the most dangerous thing in the world, and I was tired of being on edge all the time. She adjusted the strap to fit her a little better and smiled as she put the camera around her neck. I finally felt like a normal person, for once in a long time.

The Vallen residence 11:25 am, February 17th, 2019.

“God, she makes this look so easy.” was what had crossed my mind as soon as I took the camera from Juniper. The rush that had filled me then and had still filled me now was... otherworldly. Whether good or bad was beyond me, all I knew was I left the realm of normal long ago, this was just another step further in. I sighed as I sank down into the couch, stress from the constant reminders of what I’d joined had followed me everywhere, but I never expected a monster to actively get that close to us. I looked briefly at the scar on my arm from the last time one got that close, “yep, still there” I mumbled to myself as Juniper went upstairs, finally feeling like she could sleep again. I was happy to see her go, not because I didn’t love her but because she clearly needed a me day, she never bothered to take one since this all began. “Do you really think she’s gonna be ok? After all she’s been through?” I knew who it was, I didn’t even have to check. “I’m not doing this; you’ve done enough already anyways” I muttered angerly to the voice. “Really? You keep bringing hell to her doorstep and then have the nerve to get mad at me?!” It said, pissed at her for letting her do what she does and me for letting her, which is fair. I ignored it, turning on some music to try and drown it out. It wasn’t much use but I had to do something. The phone rang, and just like that it was gone, replaced with the voice of Mickey when I picked up. Except...It wasn’t him, it sounded like someone trying to be him. The pain in my arm telling me whatever it was, it’s other worldly. “Have you seen Juniper?” He said to me, I tried to ignore it but it’s an overwhelming amount of “this is bad” screeching, searing pain. “Who are you? Why are you fucking pretending to be my friend?” I was pissed, but not as pissed as the beast on the other end which had started growling. “I don’t know if you’re smart or an idiot for calling me out, either way I don’t have time for this...” A ringing sound filled my ears as I slowly saw myself turn into a monster, grey skin and sharp teeth, thinned black hair and pale eyes...I didn’t really know what to do, Juniper came down, yawning. Yawn turned to scream when she saw me, and I did the only thing my body would let me do, tear her throat out, a flash and suddenly everyone I loved was there...dead in front of me. “STOP IT” I tried to scream, but the words were drowned by the ringing noise. Suddenly I was normal again, and everything was gone. Everything except the monster on the other end. “Bring me the artifact, or else.” I didn’t even know where to start with my questions; Where’s Mickey, who even was this, WHAT was this, but I didn’t have the chance to ask as I was cut off by the sound of him hanging up. The once protective weapon around my neck had started to burn just from holding it, but something was...drawing me back to the woods. I didn’t know if Juni would’ve been angrier if I lost the camera or Mickey, and at this point I didn’t care, I had a friend to go save.

Unnamed forest near the Vallen residence 1:00 pm, February 17th,2019.

I sprinted down the path as fast as my legs would possibly take me. I knew I was running into something I wasn’t ready for, something this powerful and malicious was certainly willing to kill and I had no way of knowing what I was going into but I didn’t have a choice, after all I’ve done I had to at least save Mickey, that’s all I could really tell myself as I got closer and closer to the mine, each step bringing me further from reality and into this monster’s new reality, where I would be alone and powerless to defend myself. The burning pain of the camera got less and less, step by step I could feel it crawling into my brain, a single thought: “I lived a good life, right?” The boards came off with loud snaps, each board louder and easier than the last, like each one had been there longer than the last. With a final snap, the boards had been cleared, and a sudden rush of what I could only guess was the smell of rotting corpses flooded the air, forcing me to nearly hack up a lung just from the smell alone. The sight inside was even worse than the smell, from the outside, dust that filled the door way made it impossible to know what it was for sure but once inside a pile of corpses was clear in the middle of the room. On the walls you could see names written in blood, like whoever or whatever had been here was showing of its kills. In the pile I could distinguish a few police officers, telling me that what I was walking into was bound to be awful. I grabbed a gun from one of the corpses, a revolver with a few shots loaded into it, and slowly made my way through a small opening in the right most wall. Despite how natural this place is, the shaping and damage and hell even furniture made it all feel...like someone’s home, a table and oil lamp that hasn’t worked for a while had been the only things to really look at. The hole was tight, barely enough room for me, and long enough to make it trigger claustrophobia in even the bravest of people. It felt like I had been going for hours before I finally saw anything, but soon a light in a hole on the other end signaled hope for me...or death. At this point, either was better than the hole. As I got closer towards the light, the hole opened more until there was enough room for me to stand. Once on my feet, I saw what the light was: an oil lamp hanging on a doorway, this one as old as the last but somehow working. The door was a dark oak, the handle a bright steel yet covered in rust. Opening the door an office that had a familiar feeling but I couldn’t quite pick it out. The familiarity, however weird, was comforting enough for me to go in, the door slamming shut behind me. Trying to turn the knob was pointless, but I tried anyway. As if on cue, a man came in, a suit and tie. He set his hat down on his desk and sat by the fire place, puffing a cigar. “oh...now I remember.” I thought to myself, seeing the markings on his arm, an old symbol from a cult that disappeared long ago. A young girl ran in, jumping into her dad’s lap. He stroked her hair gently, telling her about their plans for today. I checked the date on the paper next to him. April 16th, 1922. The day Ania Barnes went missing and her family turned up dead at a cult sacrifice. Conveniently, Mr. Barnes leaves out the whole “join the rest of the cult to go sacrifice someone” bit of his plans for the day. As nice as all this was, I had somewhere to be. I flung open the door the girl came in through and kept walking until I made it back to the mine. Looking back to make sure I didn’t miss anything, I saw a gap in the wall that lead back to the entrance, big enough for a semitruck to slide right through. “Damn, how did I miss that?” I muttered to myself, realizing how insane I sounded but not caring. A deep, growly voice called my name from the darkness. “Give it to me!” The creature screamed, lunging forward enough for me to see it. Dark fur covered most of its body, exposed bone being the only real injury I could find, and a dear skull for a head. “I need to know he’s alive, first.” I said, my voice shaking. “You’re in no place to negotiate here, Beth” It said, a mocking tone in its voice as it said my name. I knew it was right, it knew it was right, I’m sure Hellen Keller knew it was right, and yet it still did it anyways. It reached into the darkness and threw down my friend, clawed, beaten and bruised but alive. He sat up slowly, groaning. Slowly pulling him away from this thing, I set the camera down for it to do whatever it wanted with. The creature took it and chuckled, “this will be nice.” I didn’t care for it too much; I dragged my now unconscious friend back to the house to lick our wounds and get ready to die another day.