#but just i knew dan when he played for victoria and that was when he also played for the hurricanes

[fazcinatingblog]

i'm excited to read dan christian's book next March and find out why he won a championship for every team he's played for EXCEPT the hobart hurricanes

[scribbleseas]

The Indignant Pawn, Chapter XIII: The Land of the Living

Description: You are Y/n Y/l/n- formerly known as Princess Helena, the runaway princess.

You're an assassin for hire who only agrees to find the worst of London's criminals at the business end of your knife; until a mysterious woman hires you to end the likes of Ciel Phantomhive, the King of the Underworld. You find yourself trading your weapons for your abandoned family crest in order to infiltrate his home as none other than Princess Marie-Louise, your twin sister. What's to happen when you find that the young Earl is more than a callous businessman?

OVERALL STORY WARNINGS: sexual assault (once in the prologue), objectification, misogyny, death, detailed description of blood/gore, detailed description of murder, lying, impersonation, theft, weapons, detailed panic attacks, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: some kissing (I mean, there is a wedding), religious mentions

Author’s Note: I’m not sure how but I wrote this in two sittings. My hands hurt! Also, in my take on Black Butler, Tanaka plays the cello. Sue me. And one more thing, this is one of my favorite chapters I’ve written for this fic. Hang onto your hats, folks.

Happy Reading!

- Dan

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MASTERLIST

. . .

APRIL 1ST, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“Thank you, Nadia. This length should do just fine,” you said, turning in front of the long mirror before you to observe the dress’s hem. As you preferred, it reached the floor without dragging like a train. 

Your gown for the ceremony was light green, a delicate shade of sage matching the ceremonial decorations you would have to wear to represent the monarchy. The dress had layered tulle tied off and sewn down the front of the bodice, flaring out in ruffles down the petticoat. The bracelet sleeves ended a little above your wrists, sufficiently covering your scar. 

“You are simply breathtaking, Your Highness. I almost pity the bride,” Nadia said, referring to the traditional idea that no woman should upstage the bride on her wedding day. You made no attempt to. From your perspective, Cornelia and Lord Edward’s wedding was near meaningless. All you cared about was using the night of distraction to attempt to carry out your mission. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you disagreed, frowning at the freshly polished tiara on your vanity. Sebastian took the liberty of cleaning the Honeysuckle & Scroll tiara sent by Queen Victoria, along with the rest of Marie’s ceremonial decorations from Germany. Surprisingly, Maire’s handmaidens didn’t send those valuables with their rightful owner. Instead, they stayed safe in Germany until Victoria requested they be sent to the Phantomhive estate. 

The Queen expressed considerable worry in their accompanying letter, but her love for the Midford family was victorious over any consternation. After all, Alexis Leon Midford, the groom’s father, was her Head of the Garter, and his mother was a beloved Phantomhive. She approved of her granddaughter overseeing the festivities in her stead. If only she knew which German granddaughter that was, exactly. 

Before Nadia could argue, there was a stiff knock at your bedroom door. 

“Your Highness, my master humbly requests your assistance,” Sebastian asked tactfully in German, so Nadia wouldn’t understand the infallible Lord Phantomhive needed help. 

You rolled your eyes, answering in English. “I am in the midst of my dress fitting. How urgent is the problem at hand?”

“Quite pressing, Your Highness,” he said, as unctuous as ever. If you opened the door, you would surely see the butler’s dark eyes narrowing from how difficult you were. “It is preferable if you attend to him in the front room in your wedding number.”

“Is he not in tutoring with you at this time?” 

“He begs of you, Your Highness.”

“What could the Earl need from me in full formal dress?” You asked incredulously, stepping off the small podium Nadia brought from the shop. You gestured for Nadia to follow you as you moved to the door, swinging it open to reveal the lanky butler. He wore the same glasses he always did when he held lessons for Lord Phantomhive.

“It’s a matter of…social etiquette,” Sebastian answered carefully. 

You understood his strategic word choice when you met the Earl in the front room at the bottom of the main staircase. A frazzled Mey-Rin used the wall to help remain upright, making a dramatic show of being dizzy. Sebastian’s violin sat on one of the side tables next to Tanaka, who sat with his cello between his legs. A metronome clicked methodically. 

Mortification flashed on the Earl’s face, causing him to redden to the tips of his ears. “Sebastian, I told you not to bother Her Highness with such a meaningless waste of time,” he cringed at his words, his fists clenching and unclenching. 

“No, thank goodness, you’re here, ma’am! I never learned to dance like this! I’m just a maid!” Mey-Rin surged back to life upon your entrance. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, master; yes, I am!” She exclaimed, hastily bowing to Lord Phantomhive and you before scampering out of the main room. She took the narrow hall that led to the servants’ quarters, likely in search of her co-workers for comfort. 

“Wait, Mey-Rin!” Phantomhive protested, but she was too far to hear. 

“So…this urgent and pressing matter is Lord Phantomhive’s mediocre dancing technique?” You surmised, equal parts amused and terrified. Even when you were undergoing daily dance lessons, your skills were passable at best. Marie was the dancer. On top of that, your last class had to be nearly a decade ago.

Due to their uselessness, those particular granules of knowledge sank to the back of your mind, like phantom limbs or atrophied muscles.  

“Quite. The wedding is tomorrow, and my Lord has been too stubborn to hire a tutor,” Sebastian sent a pointed look at the Earl, who looked as if he would pull out his pistol and shoot that very moment. “I know royals receive extensive training in these areas. I was hoping you might have something to teach him.”

“My dancing is perfectly adequate!” Lord Phantomhive protested.

“Your Highness?” Sebastian prompted, and despite your best intuition, you took measured steps toward the indignant nobleman. You felt like your actions were determined for you like there was a puppeteer manipulating strings tied around your limbs.

“All right,” you surrendered, standing directly before Lord Phantomhive. You ignored the irksome discomfort of several pairs of eyes on you. “We’ll start with the Viennese Waltz. Bow and ask for my hand,” you dared the Earl to defy you. If Sebastian was forcing you to help, he would listen.

“Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive cleared his throat, “shall I have the honor of dancing this set with you?” 

“Yes, you may,” you said, lowering yourself into a shallow curtsey while he bowed. You were in perfect sync, sinking and rising together. 

Lord Phantomhive gave you a final questioning look before hesitantly taking your right hand in his and putting his left hand under your shoulder blade.

This was the hard part. You called on your lessons from Governess Lydia as a child, although you barely listened to those at the time, either. 

“Start with the box, Helena-Victoria. Step back, together, right, together, forward, together, left, together. Repeat. It’s a circle. Think of a race track,” Lydia said sternly.

Duly, you heard Sebastian calling out the rhythm along with the metronome. But for the first time, you purposely listened to Lydia. 

“We do side whisks to keep from getting lightheaded. Right foot, left foot behind the right, repeat. Fix your posture and stop staring at the floor. You are a princess; you stand up straight and never bow your head to anyone.”

The Lydia in your head was much kinder than the Lydia you knew. 

“Four natural turns, four side whisks, and repeat. You are not a fool. Think it through, and it will come naturally. What did I tell you about your posture? Can you follow simple instructions, or are you defective?”

That was a lie. No conception of Lydia was kind.

“Look at me, Lord Phantomhive,” you said, silencing your fabricated governess. You could be a better instructor. “Don’t look at the floor; you’re an Earl, and Lady Elizabeth will find it offensive. Look at me.”

Asking Lord Phantomhive to look at you was a mistake. Your stomach twisted as he complied, bringing his gaze back to meet yours.

He was uncharacteristically quiet but staring as intently as ever. It made your heart flutter, rightfully flustered from being analyzed so closely and at such proximity. You never stood this close to the Earl, save for the time you pushed his tea out of his hand to save his life. 

It was easy to forget that the Earl wasn’t an unattractive young man; his perfect complexion and prominent, angular cheekbones were the pinnacles of offense. He looked otherworldly, like a vampire or some kind of demon with his sapphire eye. His hair almost wholly covered his eye patch. 

“Your Highness?” Lord Phantomhive questioned your little stumble caused by your inattentiveness. Your staring.

No, not staring, gawking. 

“The reverse box is forward, side cross.” Lydia reminded you.

You cleared your throat, “we’re going to complete a reverse box now. That’s forward, to the side, and back.” All you wanted to do was tear your eyes away, but you couldn’t after demanding he look at you. You could do difficult things; you killed Felix Keating in a moving carriage, shot two men after they killed your best friend and assaulted you, and hid the bodies after. “Good. You’re not hopeless, Lord Phantomhive,” if you could do both those things, you could look a ruminative nobleman in the eye while dancing with him. 

“I appreciate your help,” Lord Phantomhive said, casting his pride aside. There wasn’t much he disliked more than swallowing his pride and asking for help or muttering a word of gratitude. In that way, the two of you were the same. Yet, he’s done both for you numerous times. 

And you’ve done both for him as well, numerous times. 

“I’m out of practice too, my Lord. We both needed the practice,” you admitted, laughing as you took a more dramatic step than necessary, making the ‘natural’ turn more pronounced. You pulled him along by your clasped hands, picking up your pace to match the ¾ rhythm a Viennese waltz typically started at. You were moving slower to help Phantomhive (and mostly yourself) master the steps.

You were strong, capable of accomplishing impossible tasks, but you couldn’t help your riotous smile. It hurt your cheeks. 

“This is faster than the proper rhythm! You read music. Shouldn’t you know this?” Lord Phantomhive protested, but his tone was fond. “I’m leading. You must follow my tempo.”

“Then you ought to allow me to lead!” you suggested, deaf to the music stopping. Until Sebastian spoke, drawing the dance to a stilted stop. 

“My sincerest apologies, but there is a call on the line for you, my Lord. From Scotland Yard, regarding an old case,” Sebastian said, all too eager to ruin a moment where the two of you weren’t wholeheartedly miserable. The butler didn’t have either of your best interests at heart; you were sure. “He says the matter is dire.”

Lord Phantomhive hesitated, giving you a final long look before taking his hands away. “Right. If it’s a…dire matter, I shall tend to it. Of course,” he said, smoothing his suit. “Thank you, Your Highness. Sebastian, see to lunch preparations for after this call.” 

“Of course, my Lord,” Sebastian bowed, helping Tanaka move the instruments away. 

Phantomhive swiftly dipped his head before starting up the stairs to his study.

They left you with Nadia, who grinned like a lovestruck child. “Your Highness,” she gasped once everyone was out of earshot. “That was…intense.”

“It was a dance lesson,” you dismissed, returning to your quarters to allow the seamstress to help remove your gown. “I feared he would step on me.”

“Forgive me, but that was more than a dance lesson. You and Lord Phantomhive…there’s-”

“Your primary commissioner is Lord Phantomhive’s fiancée, Nadia. Please, just do your job and give me a hand with this dress. That is an order,” you snarled without meaning to, killing the beaming smile on her face.

“Forgive me,” Nadia repeated skeptically, doing as told. 

. . . 

Sebastian prepared a beautiful lunch table, but his master never joined you, no matter how slowly you chewed. 

“My Lord sends his regrets, but this call from the Yard is much too… blindsiding for him to proceed without a proper strategy,” the butler said, refilling your cup of tea.  

“Blindsiding?” you questioned, searching Sebastian’s face for any clues. There were none. “What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid it is classified information between the Queen’s Guard Dog and Scotland Yard,” Sebastian said, “but please allow me to assist you in any other way, Your Highness.”

Frustrated, you dismissed Sebastian and didn’t see Lord Phantomhive for the rest of the day. Not by choice, the Earl simply didn’t join you for supper, dessert, or cards. 

Maybe everything was in your head.

. . .

APRIL 2ND, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“Look at this sunset!” Lady Elizabeth praised the fuchsia sky, peering through the curtains in the carriage. The golden sun set, casting warm hues through the carriage, highlighting her blonde hair, catching the diamonds in your tiara, and somehow making Lord Phantomhive appear paler. “I think this is a blessed evening.”

You were in the second carriage of the wedding’s church procession, the first being Cornelia and her father and Lord and Lady Scotney, the groom's parents. Looking out the window, you saw the white carriage directly in front of yours and the pair of light gray horses pulling you.

Lord Phantomhive was handsome in his warm gray jacket and a baby pink flower tucked into his jacket pocket. It matched his tie, and his fiancée's dress, of course. The pairing stung, although your rational mind knew the color match was to honor their statuses as maid of honor and best man. Lady Elizabeth practically glowed, accented in gold jewelry. Her hair fell to her waist in waves. You caught her eyes flitting towards her betrothed every few seconds, looking for a compliment. 

He merely stared at the carriage door, the floor, and the ceiling. Anywhere that wasn’t you or his cousin, really. He was always moody, and social events weren’t his idea of fun. If you could be anywhere else, you would be. Carriages gave you enough anxiety. 

“Yes, it’s lovely,” you responded, feeling like a dress-up doll of your sister. You wore her entire cast of princess regalia, shipped from Germany: the Honeysuckle & Scroll tiara, the National Order of Merit sash with the royal insignia brooch pinned over your breast. You hoped you didn’t look as ridiculous as you felt. 

As your carriage neared, the bells tolling in the church grew louder, echoing throughout the city. Lanterns lit the church’s perimeter, lining the front staircase and aisle. Blossom petals littered over the ground, symbols of good luck and virtue. You watched Cornelia, and her father make the slow trek up the flowered staircase and through the doors to the congregation first, followed by Alexis and Frances. Then it was your turn; you walked in stride with Lady Elizabeth and Lord Phantomhive between them, climbing the stairway and walking down the aisle.

The wedding string quartet to the side of the altar played Handel’s Arrival of The Queen of Sheba, a joyous and majestic sound. The church had beautiful acoustics, making the expert playing sound even more euphonious. 

You reddened as the guests in the pews bowed as you passed them, only straightening as you moved past their aisle. Although your entrance was strategically planned for after the bride, you still felt a pang of guilt for momentarily stealing her spotlight. On either side of you, Lady Elizabeth and Lord Phantomhive split to join their respective sides of the altar; Elizabeth to Cornelia’s right and Phantomhive to Edward’s left. 

In the front row to the right, you stood in front of your chair while the rest of the wedding procession filed in, sitting once the bridesmaids took their places to Elizabeth’s side. Edward’s groomsmen, except for Lord Phantomhive, had been waiting for the bridal party’s arrival.

The quartet’s music slowly quieted as the bald priest straightened his back, addressing the audience. He cleared his throat, waiting for Richard Burton’s affirming nod before speaking. Naturally, the bride’s father had to confirm his consent to make the ceremony valid from the law’s perspective. “Dearly beloved, you have come together into the house of the church so that in the presence of the church’s minister and the community, your intention to enter into marriage may be strengthened by the Lord with a sacred seal,” his gravelly voice commanded the sanctuary’s attention. 

The priest began with a prayer, but you stopped listening. In fact, you doubted most of the wedding party at the altar was doing much prayer, either. Lord Phantomhive fought himself, but he was looking at you, to the light your diamonds refracted on the tall ceiling and to the inquisitive look on your face.

He needed to decide, was he looking at you, or was he not? What prompted this indecision, anyway? 

Your fingers fiddled with the second salt shaker hidden in your gown’s pocket bag.

“Lord Midford, please repeat after me,” the priest requested, reading the vows to Edward. The groom was distracted with his bride, taken by the sheer expanse of her dress and face, illuminated by soft brushes of makeup. “Lord Midford?” the priest repeated patiently.

“Right-- In the name of God, I, Edward Midford, take you, Cornelia Margaret Burton, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow,”  the groom blinked rapidly, holding back tears. It was a sweet juxtaposition to his crisp knight uniform. 

Cornelia repeated the same vows after the priest, surprisingly much less tearful than her counterpart. Instead, she smiled brilliantly, practically bouncing on the soles of her heels.

“Very well,” the priest said, leading the congregation in another prayer to bless the couple’s wedding rings. You took the opportunity to observe Lord Phantomhive again; he wasn’t looking at Elizabeth or you, pointedly so. While he was dressed beautifully to match the other groomsmen and the blush blossoms that surrounded the arch behind the couple, the solemn look on his face told you that he was mourning. There was a fake, idle smile on his lips, but the rest of his face wasn’t in it. 

What was wrong? 

You cringed as the couple exchanged rings.

“Edward, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit,” Cornelia repeated after her groom, completing the exchange.

The priest spoke, “Now let us humbly invoke God’s blessing….”

You thought back to the day prior, the dancing. It was your only interaction with Lord Phantomhive, and it was, as always, enjoyable. He smiled, and it was more than the vacant and foolish look he offered to the congregation. 

Until Sebastian interrupted you with the call from the Yard.

“In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss!” The priest exclaimed, allowing an eager husband and wife to spring into one another’s arms and share an impassioned kiss in front of their closest family and friends. And you, a disguised interloper.

“Go in peace to glorify the Lord with your life,” the priest managed to bellow over the audience. You stood as the rest of the guests did, clapping appropriately. 

The bells tolled once more, marking the ceremony’s conclusion.

Hand-in-hand, Edward led Cornelia down the aisle, through the church’s open doors, and into the waiting carriage to prepare for the dinner and reception. The rest of the wedding party followed. 

You trailed behind Lord Phantomhive and his future bride. They were next, and they knew it. 

Your fingers wrapped around the poison in your pocket. Was there any sense in caring for someone who didn’t care for you?

. . .

The wedding party sat in the middle of the round guest tables in front of the towering wedding cake. The newlyweds sat together, their groomsmen and bridesmaids fanning on either side respectively, save for your seat next to Lady Elizabeth’s. 

The attendants served dinner while the immediate families gave their speeches. Richard was first, bringing tears to the bride’s eyes at the mention of her dead mother, Margaret Burton. She died of consumption when Cornelia was three, but Richard was sure to lift everyone’s spirits by insisting that she was proud of her daughter for taking in her legacy and becoming a nurse. For the most part, you ignored Alexis’s speech, savoring the creamy mashed potatoes on your plate.

After dinner, most guests took to the expansive dance floor, waltzing with their partners. You were the only guest left at the table, as no one dared ask a royal to dance with them. Thus, you took the opportunity to unscrew the lid of your salt shaker and pour its contents into Lord Phantomhive’s flute of champagne. With the number of toasts the couple planned, the Earl was sure to finish his champagne by the night’s conclusion. 

You silenced any guilt by watching him waltz with Elizabeth. Her hand in his, his hand under her shoulder blade. Four natural turns, four side whisks. It was the Viennese waltz that you taught him. In response to your unadulterated rage, you took a long, calming drink out of your (unpoisoned) champagne. The acrid taste stung your tongue, but it was better than simply looking on. It was a miracle you didn’t break the stem of your glass.

“Care to dance, Your Highness?” a new voice asked, startling you. “You seem lonely. Too beautiful to be alone like this,” he said, reaching for your hand. He pressed a kiss to your family ring while he sank into a formal bow. The stranger’s accent sounded like Cornelia’s father. A New Yorker.

You raised an eyebrow, reclaiming your hand as soon as the American righted himself. “Who’s asking?”

“My name is Cooper Finley,” he said purposely as if he expected a German princess to know his surname’s ‘significance.’ But you knew, and it made you grin venomously, seeing that this was the avarice-ridden and the overly confident man you helped Lord Phantomhive outwit. This was the graverobber that stole bodies and sold them to medical students without familial consent. Your instincts told you to rebuff him as brutally as someone of your stature could, but you caught Elizabeth and Phantomhive again.

 She smiled, laughing as if her betrothed said something undeniably hilarious. 

“If you can keep up with a waltz,” you smarted, willing yourself to look playful. Dancing with someone like Cooper Finley was narrowly better than standing abandoned during a waltz. 

“Can I take this off your hands? I wouldn’t want you to overindulge,” Finley said, taking Lord Phantomhive’s poisoned champagne flute before you could protest. It had been close enough to look like yours, potentially a second round from a server. He finished the full flute in one go as if it were a common tavern beer. 

“Better not to be wasteful, correct?” he asked rhetorically, roving his tongue over his lips, locking eyes with you. It made sense, Finley’s shipping business was failing without Lord Phantomhive’s support, and now he was seducing a princess in an effort to become a German duke.

“Shall we?” you ignored him, offering your gloved hand to lead you to the middle of the dance floor when the previous song ended. Guests parted for you upon sight, giving you the necessary room to dance with your unexpected partner. 

Finley took your hand, and his free one sat below your shoulder blade, as custom dictated. He wasn’t a bad dancer, nor hard to look at. In fact, he carried a small resemblance to Cornelia and her father with his close-cropped brown hair and heavy-set eyebrows. If you weren’t aware of the selfishness and cruelty behind his hazel eyes and seductive grin, you might have found solace in dancing with him over the Earl. 

“What are you up to in England, Princess Marie?” Finley asked, leading you into a turn. You scoffed.

“Your Highness,” you corrected him, “and just what are you doing in England, Cooper Finley?”

He laughed as if he hadn’t expected you to correct him. “Sorry. Your Highness, Princess Marie. I’m here for business. But I managed an invitation because I’m the bride’s cousin. I’m a representative of her dead Mama’s side of the family.”

You wondered if Lord Phantomhive knew this. Regardless, Cornelia’s cousin was going to die in about a week due to lethal thallium ingestion. You doubted you would be the first to say that he deserved it. 

At least you understood where the familial resemblance came from, dead Mama’s side. 

Finley must have attributed the alarm on your face to his cavalier manner of referring to Cornelia’s deceased mother. He put a sad smile on his face, “it’s alright. She died when we were all in the crib. Not so near and dear to our hearts as Uncle Richard says.”

“Do you always speak of such unseemly things during a waltz?” you asked. 

“You’re too easy to talk to, Your Highness, Princess Marie,” Finley said, moving the hand from your back to fix your sash. His hand lingered on the royal decoration for a moment too long.  

The waltz was hardly halfway complete before Phantomhive intervened, forcing the both of you out of your natural turn. 

“Mind if I cut in?” It was the first time since he willingly looked at you in the past two days. His jaw was set. 

“Lord Phantomhive,” Cooper Finley said, any semblance of seduction melting off his face like a mask made of hot candle wax. “We were in the middle of a dance.”

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Finley,” the Earl snapped, each of his words clipped. “Your Highness?”

“What about Elizabeth?” you demanded, pulling away from the New Yorker to better face Lord Phantomhive. The rest of the guests danced around you, doing a convincing job of ignoring the drama amongst them. 

“She’s dancing with Lord Scotney,” his betrothed was laughing with her father as he twirled her around on the other side of the dance floor. Edward danced with his mother, and Cornelia with her father. They were hard to find through the various pairs of dancers; Phantomhive must have watched you the moment you left the dining table. 

“You’re excused, Mr. Finley,” you said coldly, dismissing him.

“But Princess Marie-”

“That is a direct order,” you insisted, finding the line extremely effective. 

“You will regret this,” Finley surrendered, crimson with embarrassment. He pushed past Lord Phantomhive to return to his seat or, more likely, seduce a bridesmaid. 

Lord Phantomhive wasted no time taking your hand and sweeping you into a turn. His movements were jagged, distracted by his anger. 

“What did he want with you?” he demanded, his grip much more potent than it needed for a dance. 

“He looked about ready to drop down on one knee for me,” you said dryly, keeping your face aloof, refusing to look at the Earl. You were far from the Earl’s property, a piece of property he needed to protect when it was threatened and ignored when he felt like it. He scowled at your response. “He wasn’t anything more than I can handle,” you added, and it was the truth. Cooper Finley was going to die, partially by your hand.

 “What is vexing you then?” Lord Phantomhive asked gruffly as if he hadn’t been ignoring you for the past two days. “You told me yourself not to look down during a waltz.”

“You,” you gritted honestly, “you are vexing me,” you admitted. “Are we or are we not friends?”

Phantomhive hesitated, struggling to pick the words he wanted to say. He was painfully close; you could smell his bay leaf scent. The hints of soap. The chandelier made his tiny diamond earrings sparkle. They were studs, easy to miss. 

He drew closer. You wondered if he could feel your heart at such closeness; your torsos were practically pressed together. 

“Ciel, my brother needs you in the powder room,” Elizabeth’s sudden presence forced you apart as if strong electric shocks suddenly sparked between you. Her voice quivered, and her eyes were glassy, “please,” she added as an afterthought, guiding Lord Phantomhive away with a hand on his shoulder. 

They left you alone in a sea of people. You saw Edward across the way, still engaged in a smooth waltz with Francis. Far from the powder room.

Your eyes stung, and you took a difficult breath in. Even your chest felt tight, and the tiara on your head pounds heavier than it was seconds ago. Without a second thought, you pushed past the dancing guests, making a beeline for the ballroom door and exiting the building. 

You leaned on the side of the building the moment you managed to get outside. The fresh air cleared your lungs, and you stared up at the night sky, a black abyss above you, speckled with stars. 

Everything in your life was complex, your job contradicting your heart, Lord Phantomhive clashing his duty with his. His commitment to the Queen, to his fiancée. That was probably why he couldn’t look at you. By embracing how he felt, he would betray almost every aspect of his life: his family and his responsibility to the crown. Differently, than Doña imagined, you were ruining Ciel Phantomhive’s life. Only, doing so by this means was almost more damaging and cruel than plunging a knife between his ribs. 

“Elizabeth!” you exclaimed as the blonde came through the same doors you did.

She jumped, startled by your outburst. Her eyes still looked glassy, filled with unshed tears. Her face was red.

“There you are, Your Highness. I was…looking for you,” Elizabeth admitted, her smile several degrees less vibrant since the ceremony, but genuine still. She was a kinder person than you. “I apologize for interrupting your dance with Ciel, but I wanted, needed, to talk to him. And you. Alone.”

“Please, I don’t deserve an apology from you,” you admitted, mouth running dry with guilt. Elizabeth trusted you to be her betrothed’s dear friend. And instead, you…you didn’t know what you were. Any label that could be put on it undoubtedly surpassed the bounds of friendship, which was a betrayal. 

“No, it’s all right,” Elizabeth’s voice was uncharacteristically strong as she rounded her back. She took your hands into hers, grasping them tightly to make you look at her. “He loves you how I wish he could love me,” she insisted, nodding at you as if the gesture would help you understand, “but he can’t love me like that. I love him and you, so I will… do what’s best for all of us,” Elizabeth had an actual princess’s grace.  “I don’t love him. We truly are friends, Elizabeth. I swear,” the words were heavy on your tongue and obviously false. You didn’t believe yourself. 

Elizabeth chuckled, likely appreciating your attempt to spare her feelings. “He fusses over you the same way my mother protects my father. And you look at him the way my brother looks at Cornelia. I know what love looks like, Your Highness. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize.”  “Call me Marie,” you stole her betrothed; the allowance was the least you could do. You ignored the nagging part of your brain that would’ve given anything to say Y/n.

“Lizzie,” she corrected, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug, to your surprise. Your back cracked in her robust embrace, but you didn’t care. Instead, you wrapped your arms around her as well, sighing. It felt as if you were Atlas, and the gods removed the weight of the sky from your shoulders. 

You relished Lizzie’s warm embrace for a few more seconds before she released you and helped smooth out your crooked sash and pinned brooches. When satisfied, she grinned again and linked her arm around yours.

“Come now, Marie, Cornelia should be preparing to throw her bouquet. If we’re to make Ciel propose to you soon, winning this is the best way to do it!”

All of the single women huddled behind Cornelia’s short frame like bees to honey. She stood with her back to the crowd, lifting her small bouquet of pink peonies, waiting for you and Lizzie to push past the women.

“Are all my ladies ready?” Cornelia exclaimed, casting a quick gaze over her shoulder at the eager throngs of cheering guests behind her. Dozens of arms around you sprouted up impatiently, the shorter women balancing on the tips of their toes. 

After a slow count down from three, the bride tossed the petite bouquet over her head with all her strength. It sailed straight down the middle of the crowd. If you were indeed Marie, the nudging ladies around you would have trampled you by then.

“Throw it here!” Samantha, one of the members of the bridal party demanded. She didn’t say much to you, but from what you gathered, she was also a heiress from the States. In front of you, she threw her arms up in the same determined way a soldier might shoot his bayonet.

However, as Lizzie requested, you held your ground and jumped for the flowers. Typically, you found such superstitious activities ridiculous, but there was no harm in participating, especially when you won.

With an uncharacteristic cheer, you caught the bouquet and immediately hugged it in your chest in case anyone attempted to take it from you. You looked down at the peonies in disbelief, laughing as the crowd around you dispersed. No one would fight a fully decorated princess for something so trivial. 

“A fantastic, unplanned victory for Her Highness, Princess Marie-Louise of Schleswig-Holstein!” Cornelia cheered, leading the applause around you. “We’re all looking forward to the invitations to your royal wedding in Germany,” she joked, lowering into an innocent curtsy when you rolled your eyes. 

“Congratulations,” Lizzie simpered in approval, only for the expression to melt when she spotted something over your shoulder. Her eyes turned stormy. “Now you must go to him,” she ordered, pointing at Lord Phantomhive as she pushed you toward the exit. 

As if he heard her, Lord Phantomhive turned to the both of you, meeting your eyes before tearing his gaze away again. He twisted the door handle and left. 

“Go!” Lizzie repeated, nodding towards the door. You shoved your bouquet into her arms and obeyed. 

It was the sloppiest attempt at a run you ever made. You picked up your heavy petticoat to make room for your frenzied steps, your heels echoing against the floor as you moved. Who knew numerous layers of tulle were this heavy? You had to let some of your skirts fall to keep your sash from falling down your arm. 

You opened the door and let it slam behind you, rapidly scanning the gardens outside for a hint of the nobleman. How hadn’t you noticed the beautiful outside scenery during your conversation with Lizzie? There was a water fountain and surrounding shrubbery and rose bushes lining the trail to it….

You could see his lean silhouette sitting on the concrete rim surrounding the opulent water fountain. With a curse, you pulled your skirts up once more and followed the cobblestone, yelling the moment you were in earshot. 

“You, Lord Ciel Phantomhive, are the worst!” You yelled, disturbing the peaceful, secluded area. The only previous sounds were the fountain’s running water, small squirrels chittering about, and the soft breeze rustling the greenery. Now, your enraged voice and winded pants distracted from the scene’s ambiance. You let your petticoat fall back to the ground and removed your gloves to air out your sweaty palms. Your heart drummed in your chest, anticipating his response. 

“What has you vexed so? Even now, you’re refusing to look at me, and yet you interrupted my dance,” you demanded, standing before his sitting person, arms crossed. 

“I interrupted your dance because Cooper Finley is a bastard!” Lord Phantomhive argued, standing to his full height.

“And as are you!” you refuted, jabbing your finger to his chest, right below the flower tucked in his jacket’s pocket. 

“Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive spat your pretend title like a curse, like the lie it was; a far cry from his fond sarcasm. “You don’t understand, I know,” he said gravely, looking at you as if you’d committed a crime. All you did was allow your feelings to grow too deep. 

You stepped forward, forcing him straight against the water fountain’s rim. Cold droplets of water fell on you, but you ignored them. 

“Do not ‘Your Highness’ me! I know what you know, how you feel! Elizabeth told me so!” you yelled, eyes wild. Was it so terrifying that you could…like him? Were you so bad? Or was it his own feelings that terrified him?

“And I don’t care! I- we - can make it work! Don’t you understand?”

“What is there to understand, Princess?” Lord Phantomhive asked, all too calm. If anything, he looked tired and surrendered before the fight had even begun. 

It was as if a dam had broken within you, one that had been keeping all your resolve at bay, separating your undulating desire and forcing it into a mighty rush, unwithstandable. Irresistible. Omnipotent. 

You reached upwards, your bare hands cupping Lord Phantomhive’s face as you balanced on your tiptoes to kiss him. You squeezed your eyes to a close as you kissed him with the most false confidence you had ever employed. It was novice and uncoordinated, but you made up for it with sheer passion. His lips were just as soft as they looked. Your lungs burned, reminding you of the long breath you were holding, but you didn’t care. 

You wouldn’t have noticed that your tiara had slid off if it hadn’t fallen against the cobblestone with a sickening crack. The sound forced you back to the land of the living. The real world, where you kissed your target, Ciel Phantomhive. 

Breathlessly, you retreated, standing on your feet properly. You refused to look at the meaningless relic behind you, even if it had shattered into a million pieces. If Phantomhive wanted to break eye contact, he would have to. 

He panted, but his pained gaze didn’t move from yours. Instead, Ciel bent down, his slender fingers resting on either side of your neck. From where he positioned them, his fingertips could feel your drumming pulse. Ciel’s hands were cold, contrasting your warm skin, heated by chasing after him. It sent shivers down your spine. 

He kissed you long and hard and just as cluelessly. Your heart pounded. Your legs felt weak, as if they might give in at any moment. 

Ciel kissed you, and it was like nothing you had experienced before. Not even the stolen kisses you suffered years ago, the ones plucked from your lips like a defenseless flower. This kiss wasn’t stolen. It was shared, warm, and sacred. 

Your fingers tugged at his jacket, demanding Ciel remain close. He tilted his head, clumsy lips keeping a soft rhythm with yours. It was as natural as your midnight duets, his violin slotting with your harp. Only now, it was his soft lips sliding and pressing with yours. The fit was perfect, like two puzzle pieces destined to connect to form a bigger picture. 

All you wanted was to be as close to the nobleman as you could manage. You craved the expanse of soft skin; you wanted to hear the overlapping thoughts speeding through his sharp, intuitive mind. The caustic, genius mind you came to enjoy.

You didn’t care who you’d need to hurt or what you’d need to keep the brilliant warmth burning in your chest. You’d do anything to make the sweet taste of Ciel’s lips familiar. He tasted like the oolong tea they served before they cut the wedding cake. 

Besides, what was stopping you?   

Elizabeth gave you her blessing, and if you’d need to pretend to be a princess for the rest of your life, you could bear it with Ciel at your side…so long as he never found out the truth. 

You could find a way to convince him Y/n was dead or a construct the Undertaker confirmed as some kind of hoax to tease the Queen’s Guard Dog. 

Before the thought of stopping had even crossed your mind, Ciel pulled away. He cautiously removed your hands from his waist by the wrists (when they moved there, you were unsure).

“There is nothing to make work, Your Highness,” Ciel Phantomhive said grimly, releasing your wrists. His lips, stained by your pink lipstick, were pursed. He sidestepped from where you trapped him between your body and the fountain, abandoning you yet again. 

. . .

Tags:

[chilling-seavey]

AMOUREUX- Daniel doing something which makes Louisa angry (like playing a prank or smth? if that was a thing back then) and Louisa just going OFF AT HIM IN FRENCH and Daniel's absolutely TERRIFIED for his life like "oh no I'm scared, what have I done" and the children find this so amusing like, "this one's on you"

April 26, 1831

Louisa is certainly our bilingual queen (I mean technically a princess but…our queen) and as her six children grew up, they were taught and spoken to both in English and French (they also knew a bit of Latin but that’s irrelevant here). Daniel only knew English as he never paid much attention to Latin in his lessons as a boy and didn’t care for anything else until he met Louisa. Being around her so much, he certainly picked up on a few phrases �� especially the few she used often – but it was never enough to where he could hold up much of a conversation yet alone understand her when she spoke quickly.

But we also know Daniel is a troublemaker at heart – a characteristic that is so strong in him that it was passed down to most of his children – and that didn’t really lessen even as he grew up into adulthood. Christian was once Daniel’s target for his pranks but once they moved out, Daniel had no one but Louisa to challenge. Now he couldn’t prank the children because that would just be cruel but they could certainly help him formulate a plan against their mother.

“Mama won’t like this.” would always be Philip’s first warning, watching as his father and his older brother stood across the room and quietly lifted the baby from her crib.

“We’re just going on a walk.” Daniel said, cooing down at the five-month-old in his arms, “Aren’t we, little one?”

“It is just fun.” Henry told his brother as they left the nursery.

The five children followed Daniel along the hallway and down the stairs like ducklings, little feet pattering after him through the palace and out into the gardens. He set baby Victoria among the flowers, shushing her softly as she let out a displeased cry.

“We’re going to play a little joke on Mummy so be a good girl and stay right there.” Daniel whispered. He asked the terribly surprised gardener to keep an eye on the baby as he ushered the rest of the children inside quickly.

He got them settled around the sitting room fireplace to look as casual as they could and he kept his eye on the clock on the wall. Louisa always woke Victoria from her afternoon nap at quarter-after-three. Any second now…

“Daniel!”

The children bit back their giggles as their mother’s heavy footsteps came rushing down the main staircase and echoed through the large hallways as she turned quickly into the sitting room, her dress billowing behind her and an unpleased expression on her face.

“Where is she?”

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” Daniel asked, faking concern like he was an expert at it.

“Bon dieu, Daniel! Our daughter!” (Good God, Daniel)

“Is she not upstairs?” Daniel set the book he was holding onto the mantle and took a step towards her. “She was sleeping there mere moments ago. Right?”

He turned to the other five children who stared at him and then their mother and then just quietly looked back to their books. Their silence was the obvious answer.

“Where is she, Daniel? Je suis serieux.” Louisa demanded. (I am serious.)

Daniel bit back a cheeky smile at his wife’s obvious distress but answered to not have her lose too much of her mind, “She’s with the gardener.”

“Merde!” Louisa huffed and turned quickly out of the room towards the gardens.

Daniel and the children rushed after her and back into the cool spring air. Louisa apologized to the gardener before bending down to gently scoop up the crying baby from the bed of flowers and she turned to Daniel with an angry glare.

“Tu me dégoûtes avec ton cinéma. C'est un bébé, et vous le savez! Elle aurait pu tomber malade ou être enlevée et c’est drôle pour toi? Quand vas-tu te décider à grandir?” (You disgust me with your scenes. She is only a baby and you know that. She could have fallen ill or been taken and that’s funny to you? When are you going to grow the fuck up?)

Louisa’s obvious angry distress had Daniel’s cheeky smile falling into shock in seconds, watching as she shouted at him in rushed French as she cradled her crying baby to her chest. The exhausted frustration in her face was obvious and the fact that he had no clue what she was yelling at him only kept him quiet longer.

“Vu ête un terrible exemple pour vos enfants et j’en ai marre de tes conneries.” (You are a terrible example to your children and I am sick of your shit.) Louisa went to walk past him back into the palace but she turned back to look at him again.

“Tu manges dans ta chambre ce soir. Si tu vas agir comme un enfant, je te traiterai comme un enfant.” (You’re eating in your room tonight. If you’re going to act like a child then I’m going to treat you like one.)

Daniel swallowed thickly, knowing by her tone that she was scolding him but being too frightened to ask for clarification of what she said in a language he could actually understand. He knew ‘you’re eating in your room tonight’ from her scolding’s to their children over the prior few years but the rest was just a jumble of fast talking loud French that made absolutely no sense in his brain.

“Louisa.” Daniel tried, reaching for her.

She stepped back from him, “Ne me touche pas, Daniel James. Fils de pute.” (Do not touch me. Son of a bitch.)

He dropped his hand and pouted like a scolded puppy as he watched her walk briskly back into the palace with their youngest. The rest of the children turned back to their father with mirrored shocked faces, the youngest two of the group cowardly slightly behind Henry’s legs.

“Daddy’s in trouble.” Margret giggled softly.

“You did that to yourself.” Philip mumbled before turning and heading back inside as well.

Daniel sighed.

[lu-undy]

Chapter 25 - SBT

Here it is!

"Meow."

Lucien woke up to a soft sensation on his face. Soft, but noisy… The fluffy ball purred and purred against his cheek and mouth. 

"Perle, laisse-moi dormir, s'il te plaît…"

[Perle, let me sleep, please…]

More purring and the Frenchman's eyes slowly opened. He sighed. 

"Me voilà réveillé maintenant, tu es contente?"

[Here, I am woken up now, are you happy yet?]

She mewled and it mixed in with her purring. Lucien smiled at the soft sounds. 

"Tu as encore dormi dans mon lit?"

[You slept in my bed again?]

"Meow."

"Tu sais que tu as ton propre lit, non?"

[You know you have your own bed, don't you?]

"Meow." She put a paw on Lucien's head in his hair and played with the salt and pepper locks. He smiled. It was such a childish and innocent thing to do.

It had been a few weeks now that he adopted her and Perle had always refused to sleep in her bed. Lucien would put her there but she would always climb on his big bed and sleep next to him, on his very pillow sometimes. 

"Meow." 

She played with his hair, again and again until he raised his eyes to her and she looked down. He raised his hand and took her delicate paw with his index and thumb. The pads on her toes were pink and so small…! Her paw itself was extremely soft. She let him stroke it and stared in his eyes with her deep blue ones. 

Perle purred and moved to brush herself on his mouth. He smiled and kissed her. 

"Oui, ma petite, moi aussi je suis content de te voir." 

[Yes, my little one, I too am happy to see you.]

She loved his kisses and purred as loud as her tiny body could. Lucien chuckled. 

"Maintenant que je suis réveillé, je ferais mieux de me lever. Tu viens?" 

[Now that I am woken up, I had better get up and do something useful. Do you want to come along?]

Lucien got out of his bed and like a reflex, he turned and opened his hands on the bed. Perle jumped on his palms and he gently put her on his shoulder while going through his morning routine. The only part that she was not participating in was his shower. 

The first few days, she would cry and mewl at the base of the shower space. She would jump in too, run to Lucien's ankle and hold on there while complaining repeatedly about the wetness of the water. But the poor little kitten would rather get soaked than be far from her master.

However now, Perle and Lucien both had developed a way for this little comedy to stop. He would leave her outside of the shower but would continuously talk to her from inside. She would answer too, and that way, she didn't feel left behind. Sometimes he would tell her about his day, others, he would just play with her. 

"Perle? Je vais sortir, mon petit… et… bouh!"

[Perle? I will now come out, my little one… and… booh!]

"Meow!"

Lucien peeked his head out and Perle mewled her enthusiasm. He went back to his room with her on his shoulder again and put her on the bed to choose his suit. While he put it on, she watched him and as she soon got bored, she climbed down the bed and got closer to the mirror that Lucien was facing. 

Perle tilted her head left and right trying to understand who that white kitten was and what she wanted. Hm. She raised an uncertain paw and tried to touch the other kitten's. 

"Tu ne te reconnais pas? C'est toi, Perle."

[You don't recognise yourself? It's you, Perle.]

"Meow!"

Now, there were two Luciens too! What the hell was that sorcery!

Lucien smiled at her bewilderment and finished adjusting his tie around his neck. 

"Allez viens, on va petit-déjeuner."

[Come along, we will have breakfast.]

Lucien exited the room and went through the corridor when he realised that he didn't hear the awkward gallop and the rhythmic tics of Perle's little claws on the tiled floor. He turned his back and looked down. She hadn't followed him. 

"Perle?" 

He went back to the room and found her fighting her reflection in the mirror still.

"Perle?"

He called again from the threshold but she was too absorbed in her fight with that other vicious white kitten to listen. 

"Mon bébé?"

[My baby?]

She stopped sharp, pricking her ears up, and raised her eyes to him, standing at the door. 

"Tu viens?" 

[Are you coming?]

"Meow!"

She ran at him and he squatted down to carry her and drop her on his shoulder again before heading for the main door. 

"Bastien a dit qu'il viendrait ce matin. J'ai commandé quelque chose pour toi."

[Bastien said he would come today. I have ordered something for you.] 

Lucien put on his vest and jacket, and went to retrieve the plastic box that the young man had left at his door, the day before. He had tried an omelette with onions and potatoes and Lucien found the result very promising, even if a few more herbs could have enhanced the flavours. The bell rang at the door. 

"Ah…" 

He opened the door and Bastien was there with a package in his hands. 

"Package for you, L! Oh," Bastien saw Perle on her master's shoulder. "Hello, Pearl."

The baby cat hissed. 

"Doucement, Perle."

[Calm down, Perle.]

Bastien chuckled. 

"She doesn't like people?" He asked. 

"Non, the only one she tolerates is me as far as I know." Lucien answered. "My apologies, she is a bit aggressive."

"It's alright."

"Ah, and I have a box for you, Bastien. I have left a note with my comments inside, but it was very good." 

"Oh! Thank you so much!"

"Thank you." 

Bastien took his box and went away. 

"Alors, ma petite Perle, regarde ce que Papa Lulu t'as commandé." 

[So, my little Perle, look what Papa Lulu ordered for you.]

Lucien froze. The last time he had called himself Papa was… He took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut, frowning. The simple word "Papa" was enough to make his stomach turn. He needed a moment.

"Meow?" Perle brushed herself on him and his shoulders relaxed. 

He sighed. 

"Ce n'est rien." He lied.

[It's nothing.] 

Lucien went to the table and with his knife, he opened the small cardboard box neatly. 

"Voilà." 

[Here it is.]

He removed the paper here and there and extracted a pink collar with a silver pendant, as well as a harness and leash. Those were dark red and made of leather. 

"Comme ça, tu peux aussi te dégourdir les pattes."

[With this, you will be able to follow me around on foot.]

He gently put Perle on the table and put the collar on. Her name was engraved on it and behind, his own name and a phone number, in case she got lost. The pendant itself was shaped like a heart. Lucien then helped her in her harness and attached the leash to it.

"Now, let's have some breakfast, shall we?"

"Meow!"

They exited the suite and soon, the hotel entirely. Perle hadn't complained when Lucien put all those things on her. She was quite happy about it. Now, she could walk without fearing that Lucien would abandon her. Not only had he promised, but he now was linked to her all the time via that leash. So as long as she felt some very light tension on her shoulders, she knew he was there. 

"Perle, attends."

[Perle, wait.]

She stopped, sat down and looked up at him. 

"Quand le petit bonhomme est rouge là-bas, on attend. On ne traverse que quand il passe au vert."

[When the little man is red over there, we have to wait. We cross the road only when he turns green.]

Lucien explained calmly. But then, it hit him. He had gone through that before. His mouth had said those words. Ha, raising Perle really felt like raising a child. Again.

"Meow?"

"Why? Because otherwise a car might pass by and hurt us. So we have to wait for them to stop." 

Perle was sitting at the edge of the pavement. She raised a paw in front of her. 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…!" Lucien pushed her paw back on the pavement with the tip of his expensive, varnished, dark brown shoe. "Non, non, non, mon bébé. Tu attends sur le trottoir."

[No, no, no, my baby. You wait on the pavement.]

The light switched to red for cars and green for pedestrians. 

"Maintenant, on regarde à droite et à gauche pour être sûr, et on peut y aller."

[Now, we look right and left to be sure, and we may go.]

They crossed the street. The other pedestrians half guessed what Lucien was saying and only smiled at his fatherly tone with his kitten. But the Frenchman couldn't care less about what other people thought. His entire world was at the end of that leash. His entire, fluffy, tiny, baby world. 

Soon, they entered Victoria's diner. 

"Hey L!" 

"Bonjour, Victoria."

[Hello, Victoria.]

"Oh, hello baby Pearl!" Victoria came closer and the baby cat hissed. 

"My apologies, she doesn't really like people." 

"She likes you though. Weird taste she has, that baby kitty." Victoria said with a smirk as Lucien sat at his usual table. 

"V…" He answered. 

"What? It's true!"

"Fair enough." Lucien admitted with a smile. 

"Meow!" Perle mewled. She tried to climb on the banquette to join Lucien, but the edge was in plastic and she couldn't get any grip on it to climb. 

"Ah, attends, viens ici." 

[Ah, wait, come here.]

Lucien scooped her and put her on his lap.

"So, what will it be for you guys?" She asked. 

"Coffee and croissant for me. And if you have a bit of milk for her, as usual…?"

"Sure!"

"What will you have?" He asked her. 

"Uhm, just a hot chocolate." 

"Add it to my bill please, and come back quickly, she's hungry." Lucien said, seeing how Perle gnawed on his fingers. 

Victoria nodded and disappeared.

"Tu as faim?" 

[Are you hungry?]

Perle dug her teeth a bit deeper against Lucien's fingers.

"Aïe, d'accord, j'ai compris, tu as faim, pas la peine de mordre." 

[Ouch, fine, I get it, you are hungry, no need to bite.]

"Meow!" 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Lucien raised his index and looked at the the kitten seriously. "Pas la peine de geindre non plus. Et dis pardon, tu m'as mordu."

[No need to complain either. And say sorry, you have bitten me.]

"Meow!"

"Perle, tu veux que je me fâche?"

[Perle, do I need to tell you off?]

"Meow…" 

"Je te pardonne. Mais ne recommence plus, d'accord?"

[I forgive you. But don't do it again, alright?]

Lucien put his hand flat on the table, palm facing upwards. Perle put her tiny paw in before jumping entirely in it and laying down. 

"Here we are, coffee and croissant for the old man, milk for the kitty, and hot chocolate for me." Victoria laid them all on the table and sat opposite Lucien.

"Ah, many thanks, V. Perle, dis merci."

[Perle, say thank you.]

"Meow." She answered and went to the small plate with milk, to lap it. 

"C'est bien, ma belle."

[Very good, my beautiful one.]

Lucien scratched her head and raised his cup to Victoria. 

"Bon appétit."

"Thanks, to you too." 

They both took a sip and it cleared their minds, especially Lucien's. 

"So, you owe me, old man."

"Do I?" He asked.

"You got hired at the Queen Victoria or not?" She asked. 

"I did. And here," Lucien put a paper on the table. "For you and your boyfriend."

Victoria blushed. 

"How did you know? Did Joe tell you?"

Lucien smiled. 

"Non, but I can tell when someone is in love."

"Oh, can you?" She teased. 

"Mh-hm." He nodded. "Look at you, your cheeks are more pink than before, you wear clothes with brighter colours and you definitely smile more." Lucien explained.

"Oi! Are you saying I was grumpy before?" V asked. 

"Well, I wasn't the one to say it." He answered with a chuckle. 

"Oh yeah, you can laugh, you were grumpy too until you found Pearl, eh! And now look, you have completely adopted her, collar, leash and everything! You're even educating her as if she was a kid."

He nodded as he bit in his croissant. 

"Oui, indeed, I do. She follows me almost everywhere." 

They both looked at the baby cat who was lapping at the milk enthusiastically. 

"Oh wait, those are actual free dinners?!" Victoria exclaimed when she read the leaflet that Lucien had given her. 

"Oui, I got hired and I am the lead singer there now. I organise and manage the shows. You should come to see. The food is quite good, and the shows are the best." 

"Sure, the shows are the best, eh? So much for bein' humble."

"Pardon my honesty." He said with a smirk. 

"Jesus, you never stop…!"

He winked at her. 

"But yeah, as much as it pains me to say it, you held your word and got hired in the poshest place in all of Oz…" 

"Ha, and you had doubts…" He shook his head. 

"How did you do it?" She asked.

"My usual confidence and a bit of charm." 

"Christ almighty! You need to be told how to be humble!" Victoria said, exasperated. 

"I don't think I need to be taught that." He arrogantly added, just for her to facepalm, and she did. 

"Anyway, I'm happy you could find a job, and above all, someone to keep you company." Victoria said, looking down at Perle. 

"Meow." 

She was licking herself, trying to clean the milk on her face but couldn't reach it all. 

"Viens, je vais te nettoyer." 

[Come here, I will clean you.] 

Lucien grabbed a paper towel and Perle hissed. She hated it. 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Allons, ça ne va pas durer longtemps."

[Come on, it won't last long.]

He wiped her face and she clawed in the paper to shred it, hissing again. Lucien let go of it and let her destroy the thing. It stuck to her claws and paws, which made her even more mad. Both him and Victoria chuckled at the raging war between the kitten and the paper towel. 

"Does she still cry when you leave?" Victoria asked. 

"A bit, oui, I hear her mewling and clawing at the door. But when I come back home, I find her asleep on my pillow in the bed."

"Aww, such a cute baby she is." 

"The most adorable, I think." Lucien said, looking at her with kind eyes. 

-- Later, Lucien's suite -- 

Lucien had repeated the piece he wanted to play and sing for the next concert. It wasn't an easy piece, non, but he would do it. He would sing it in front of Duchemin, for her, that woman. 

Perle was lying on the piano, her eyes half closed, staring at him. He stopped and took a deep breath before taking a glance at his watch. Lucien then stood up and went to put on his jacket.

Perle jumped down from the piano to the seat in front of it and finally the floor.

"Meow!"

"Je dois sortir de nouveau."

[I need to go out again.]

"Meow?"

"Non, tu ne peux pas venir, c'est pour le travail, ma belle."

[No, you can't come with me, it is for work, my beautiful one.]

Lucien pulled his trousers' legs up slightly and crouched down to scratch her head. Perle started mewling repeatedly. She knew he was about to go and leave her.

"Non, ma petite, je suis désolé, tu ne peux vraiment pas venir. Ce sont des affaires d'adultes, c'est bien trop dangereux pour un bébé comme toi."

[No, my little one, I am sorry, you really cannot come. This is adults' business, it's way too dangerous for a baby like you.]

He scooped her off her floor and kissed her head while she brushed herself against his mouth. 

"Tu restes sage pour moi?" 

[You keep quiet for me?]

Perle sat in his palms.

"Meow." 

"Très bien. Je suis fier de toi." 

[Very good. I am proud of you.] 

He kissed her head again and heard her purr before dropping her on the floor again and leaving the flat. He locked the door and waited. 

There was one muffled meow. 

-- Maurice's street -- 

"Bonjour, Maurice."

"L, what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"I have a matter to discuss with you. That, and a few questions." 

"Do you need somewhere more calm?" 

Maurice's question might have sounded idiotic as the dirty street was as calm as the air itself could be. But that was exactly why Lucien needed somewhere else. After all, one can't hear a conversation clearer than in pure silence. 

"Oui, s'il te plaît."

[Yes, please.]

Mundy stood up and Lucien followed him. A few moments later, they found themselves in the beggar's hideout, underground.

"So, what can I do to help?" 

"I went to the old hangar." Lucien started. "But someone showed up that ruined my plans and intentions." 

"Ah?" 

Lucien instantly saw the fake surprise in Maurice's eyes. 

"Why didn't you tell me that there would be someone else?" The spy asked. 

"I didn't think it would be relevant." Maurice answered. "But please, tell me how he managed to ruin your strategy, I am curious." 

Lucien pointed to a chair. "May I?" 

"Of course." 

Both of them sat on wooden chairs, around the large oval table. 

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Lucien asked.  

"Be my guest."

"Many thanks." Lucien offered one to his host but Maurice declined. He lit his one and recounted the story.

"I intended to get myself captured so that Duchemin's men would take me straight to him. From there, I would deal with him."

"But?" Maurice anticipated. 

"But, this hunter appeared and freed me from my captivity. A brilliant sharpshooter I must say. I know very few people who would have managed to pull the shots he did from such a distance. Every single bullet hit their target, not a single miss, and what bullets…? Custom made darts that I had never heard of before, a clever design."

There was the shadow of a smile on Maurice's lips. 

"So I wonder." Lucien went on. "Who is he and why did you not tell me about him?" 

"Ah, well, those questions both require long answers." Maurice cleared his throat. "What did he tell you about himself?" 

"That he is a hunter but his preys are poachers, not beasts. If not for those outstanding shots he took, I would have taken him for a local hippie. However, there is something in his impressive accuracy that my head cannot quite understand. No simple hunter can be that skilled. Even during my time in the army there were atrociously few people who could shoot with such precision on so many shots. Non, there is more to that man."

Lucien paused to catch his breath. 

"He told me he is also after Duchemin. I told him it was stupid and he would end up dead. His answer struck me." 

"What did he say?" Maurice asked. 

"Don't care." Lucien quoted the tall hunter. 

Maurice smiled. 

"Doesn't that remind you of anyone?" The beggar asked with a smirk. "Someone who wants Duchemin dead more than anything else?"

The Frenchman frowned and took a drag off of his cigarette. 

"Is he my enemy?" He asked Maurice. 

"Did he seem like one?" Maurice answered. 

"Why do I have the feeling that you are hiding something about that man from me?" Lucien asked. 

"Maybe that is because I am." 

"Why not tell me?" 

"Maybe that is because you have to find out for yourself." 

Lucien raised his sharp eyes to Maurice. The beggar was smiling through his bushy grey beard.

[magical-marvelous-mistoffelees]

Masterpost on amazing moments from the Cats 2019 NA6 Tour

This is a really long post on moments I saw (and remembered to write down) last night, when I saw the national tour of Cats the second time.

!!!I chose these specific moments because they are special to the tour or character choices made by the actors that you don’t get in the 2016 bway boot or the 1998 film!!!

There were also quite a few swings and understudies thrown in, presumably since there is a rough cold/flu going around the area I live in, and the actors may have caught something.

Spoilers below!

The first time I had seen the Cats NA Tour, I saw it in Charlotte as a birthday present while on vacation. Before that moment, I knew basically nothing about Cats, so I didn’t think to take notes like this time. However, I will try to include a few moments I remember from the first time as well.

Also, my favorite characters are Tugger, Misto, Mungo, and Rumple, so my eyes were typically drawn to them. I love all of the characters though, and everyone was amazing, so I tried to watch everyone as much as I could!

Opening/Prologue

Not too much to say about the prologue, since it wasn’t much different than the film or the 2016 version. 

Naming of the Cats

Bill Bailey felt like a younger version of Tugger. After hearing his name called out, he did a little hair flip with his mane

Mungojerrie and Bill Bailey spent the majority of the song messing around and talking to each other rather than speaking to the audience. 

However, when the cats broke away while discussing a cat’s third name, Mungo was in the audience. He was close enough to the mezz (where I was sitting) to hear, and his voice was so expressive! He didn’t just recite the lines as a chant with everyone else, but put his own emotion and charm into it. 

Invitation to the Jellicle Ball (Caitlin Bond, PJ Degaetano, Dan Hoy)

The first time I saw the Cats NA tour, I saw Victoria’s understudy (Erin Chupinsky) (who was amazing!). This time, I saw the original tour actress, who was one of the best dancers I’ve seen on stage. She had so much poise and control over everything she did, and played the character just a little older than she usually was, making her more serene and quiet than young and becoming.

Her makeup did not include much pink, and she had a black nose instead, along with black defining features like the bridge of her nose and her brows.

Mistoffelees is so dramatic??? Like whenever he comes forward to dance or use his magic, his actions are always big and confident. 

Anytime Mistoffelees had to move anywhere, he always included plenty of both ballet/jazz moves, but also some acrobatic tricks. Seriously, whenever he needed to get from point A to point B, there would be some sort of leap or cartwheel or spin.

Mistoffelees also loved to follow around Munkustrap. Whenever Munk moved around to talk to other cats, Misto would be right on his tail, trying to help. He was just so happy to be introducing the ball with Munk and Vic.

Old Gumbie Cat (Dan Hoy, Emily Jeanne Phillips)

Did somebody say Skimble and Jenny? Because these actors definitely delivered. Skimble was always somewhere near Jenny during her song, and helped her move around in her big costume.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer really wanted to help out with this song (and basically every song) but were usually shooed off. This disappointed them, but they still managed to sneak in and help.

Mistoffelees continued to help out Munk in this song, guiding Jenny around and getting the mice ready in their costumes. He would often mess around with her, waving a hand in front of her face when she zoned out, giggling and shrugging. He also would fuss around and fix her fur/groom her.

JENNY WAS SO SPARKLY IN HER COSTUME!!!

Rum Tum Tugger (McGee Maddox)

McGee’s legs are SO LONG, and he always had a hip popped or his feet crossed. He also walked with so much swagger, especially in his hips.

Misto was so into Tugger’s song, constantly grooving, swaying, playing with his tail, or kneading the ground in the background. However, unless Tugger specifically pulled Misto out to dance, he would sit farther off in the background, either on the car trunk or so far downstage and to the side that he was basically in the shadows. 

Tugger went into the crowd after his number. The first time I saw Cats, he went up to someone and completely shredded their playbill/prgram. The second time I saw it, he sat next to an old lady and was playfully flirting with her. He also would run up and down the aisles, while Bombalurina tried to follow him. She would stop next to people (She actually went up to my friend!) out of breath, complaining that she wish he would stop running.

Tugger went up to Misto after his song and Misto teased him, swatting Tugger with his tail. That didn’t last long, because Misto eventually complimented his song and they had a little secret handshake between the two of them.

Grizabella the Glamour Cat (Tricia Tanguy)

We saw Grizabella’s understudy (Tricia Tanguy) and she was just as talented as my queen Keri.

Grizabella was definitely portrayed as older, similar to Elaine Paige’s version. However, she was young enough that everyone in the tribe recognized her.

All of the cats were initially shocked to see her, pulling away, before they leapt forward to either chase her away, sniff in curiosity, or hurt her as a joke.

She was SO desperate for any sort of physical contact, and she all but begged for it. Her face was twisted with sorrow and longing, and she was so happy when anyone reached out (although nobody touched her).

Skimble would pull away any young cat that tried to touch her, and Munk (tried) to keep people from hurting her. Munk also looked at her with such disdain in his eyes.

Demeter and Bombalurina were equally heartbroken when seeing her.

Can we talk about Tricia’s voice?! It’s so powerful, and she often used straight tone, putting vibrato in at the end of long notes. Her mix is super strong, which constantly made you feel like she was crying out for help, as if she still had hope that someone would. 

ALSO HER DYNAMICS. jUST. GOOSEBUMPS.

Bustopher Jones (Timothy Gulan)

Not too much to say, other than Misto kept following him around and he was so pleased to see everyone.

Bustopher also would try and talk to the conductor if he was far enough downstage. I couldn’t see if the conductor actually acknowledged him or not.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer (Tony D’Alelio, Rose Iannaccone)

They were so cute! And their voices reflected on their characters so well! They were slightly nasally but in a childish, playful way. 

There were a ton of new tricks added.

They had the same swag bags as the 2016 revival!

They were the audiences favorite (outside of Grizabella, obviously).

Old Deuteronomy (Dan Hoy, McGee Maddox, Brandon Michael Nase)

Munkustrap got so annoyed when all of the cats were more interested in listening to Tugger than him.

Misto wasn’t really helping Old D get down to the stage, but was just kind of walking proud behind him, gushing over how awesome Old D was with audience members.

OLD D AND TUGGER WERE SO HAPPY TO SEE EACH OTHER! Old D looked so shocked but absolutely THRILLED to see Tugger. He stopped in his tracks and looked at Tugger, reaching his arms out as if to say “It’s you! I can’t believe you came!”, and Tugger returned the gesture as if to say the same thing. It was so nice to see Tugger become soft for a hot sec.

Macavity (Scare 2)

When everyone was running away, you could hear someone, in a shrill, overdramatic, high-pitched British accent go “MACAVITY?! TOOTLE PIP!”. I firmly believe it was Tugger.

Jellicle Ball

Old D and Gus are best friends, and were so happy to sing together.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer are little bullies, but in a lovable way. They would constantly push people out of the way to steal the spotlight, then taunt and tease whoever they attacked. Whenever an older cat saw them do this, they would get shooed away.

However, anytime somebody tried to antagonize Mungo and Rumple, and Tugger saw what was happening, Tugger would go protect the crime twins.

Mungojerrie loved to stick his tongue out. Anytime, anywhere. 

Old D and Grizabella kept reaching out to each other but only when the other could not see them.

Old D tried to stop Alonzo, Demeter, and Munk from chasing Griz away, but it didn’t work. 

Speaking of which, both Alonzo and Demeter had to make their way up to the balcony to reach her, but Munk just freaking SCALED the whole set to her up there. No harnesses or ladders or grips.

Grizabella the Glamour Cat/Memory (Tricia Tanguy)

Munkustrap was the last person to run from Griz, and was particularly upset by her presence. He seemed hurt that she would show up, but also ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to reach out. 

Again, Grizabella was so desperate to dance like everyone else, but instead of getting hurt or struggling because of her injuries, she would just give up when her old age made it difficult to dance. She looked distraught every time she failed to dance like everyone else.

Intermission

During intermission, it was announced that Zach Berger would be replacing McGee Maddox as Rum Tum Tugger.

Old D spent most of the intermission sitting out on the tire, while the rest of the stage was empty.

Gus the Theatre Cat/Pekes and the Pollicles (Kaitlyn Davidson, Timothy Gulan, Dan Hoy)

Jelly was so so proud of Gus’ accomplishments, and Gus was very bashful at first

The audience’s collective awww on the line about the palsy which makes his paws shake

Mungo and Rumple were so offended and embarrassed, but also hurt, when Gus singled them out on “think they’re so smart just to jump through a hoop”.

“tHAT’S NOT YOUR BLOCKING THATS NOT YOUR BLOCKING!!!”

Gus would forget the words and look super upset so Old D would rush to his side and help him remember

Skimbleshanks (Ethan Saviet)

Tugger (Zach Berger) spent the whole song up in the balcony, swaying along and nodding his head. He was either standing and leaning of the rail or sitting on the rail. 

He also kept trying to catch Misto’s eye, who was sitting off to the side for most of the song.

Mungo was the conductor of the train when they were acting out the sleeping car, and he was getting way too into it. He and Skimble also exchanged little salutes. 

Skimble came up to where Tugger was sitting, and Tugger gave him a little salute as well.

Skimble practically SCREAMED on the line “ met the station master with ELATION”.

Macavity (Alexa Racioppi, Emma Hearan, Tyler John Logan)

When Mac first showed up, and was using his magic to control everyone, all of the cats except for Demeter were affected.

Bomba and Demeter raced over to protect each other.

Demeter actually fought back, with the help of Alonzo, when Mac was dragging her around.

Before the power surge, instead of acting cornered or panicked, Mac was taunting, daring the cats to come and attack him on the car trunk.

Mr Mistoffelees (PJ Degaetano, Zach Berger)

ZACH BERGER IS PRECIOUS AND NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS. HIS RIFFS AND VOICE GIVE ME LIFE.

I was very disappointed in the audience, because I was the only person to applaud when Misto came down.

Zach Berger and PJ Degaetano didn’t have as much stage chemistry as compared to McGee Maddox and Tion Gaston, but they were still boyfriends best friends.

However, instead of giving Misto a thumbs up, like McGee, Zach... shot Misto finger guns.

Tugger constantly had the utmost faith in Misto, and never EVER took his eyes off of him.

After seeing Old D come back, Gus was so excited he tried to run over to him.

When Tugger sang about Misto right after Old D was brought back, instead of sounding somber and relieved, he was still cocky and confident. It was as if he was saying “I told you so, my magical boyfriend can do anything.”

When Misto ran into Old D’s arms, Old D spun him around

Memory (Tricia Tanguy)

When she came out, instead of looking around for anyone to reach out, she ignored everyone. Cats still came up to taunt her, but she walked out there with the sole intention of telling her story, not caring what anyone thought.

When she started the song, everyone sat facing away from her (outside of Old D), but as the song went on, they all slowly turned to face her.

After she collapses in the middle of her song, all of the cats lurched forwards out of instinct, before they stop, surprised that they were about to help her.

Bomba and Demeter were two of the last cats to greet her, and they went up to her together.

Grizabella was so shocked when she was chosen to ascend

Misc

Tugger always stuck to the side of the stage, on a prop upstage, or stood in the balconies overlooking the junkyard. He was rarely center of the stage, unless the spotlight was on him.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer usually sat together near the car trunk, however, if they weren’t together, Rumple went with some of the other younger queens, like Electra and Sillabub (Ahren Victory), and Mungo sat on his own closer to Munk or Plato and the other toms.

Shockingly, Mungojerrie and Jellylorum stole the spotlight at several points during the show. Mungojerrie just had so much energy and excitement, and would always interact with the people around him. You could tell that his actor knew everyone in the cast and was super close with certain actors, because he gravitated towards them. 

Jellylorum (Kaitlyn Davidson) was always in character, however, instead of being played as older and slightly scrutinizing, she was a little younger and full of motherly energy. She was also close with everyone on stage.

Jellylorum was also always showing off her high notes!! We stan!! She was the cat who hit the C in the opening, and instead of someone belting at the end of RTT, she hit an A in her head voice.

Misto was very playful and energetic, and he could NEVER SIT STILL. He was always either playing with his tail, swaying or shifting how he was sitting, or kneading the ground.

[boredout305]

Kat Talley Jones (Urinals/100 Flowers)

John Talley-Jones and Kat Talley-Jones, Santa Barbara, California, circa late 1978/1979.

Kat Talley-Jones was an early photographer of The Urinals and 100 Flowers. She is the lyricist of “Ack Ack Ack Ack” and has compiled an impressive 1978 to 1983 gigography of The Urinals and 100 Flowers. Talley-Jones is the wife of the bands’ bassist and vocalist John Talley-Jones.

Professionally, Talley-Jones is an independent exhibit developer and writer. She’s worked on teams that created the Dinosaur Hall and Nature Lab at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County and visitor center exhibits at Mammoth Cave National Park, Devils Tower National Monument, Badlands, National Park, Stones River National Battlefield, and Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area among many others.  

Talley-Jones is still involved with The Urinals and 100 Flowers, taking photos and contributing in countless other ways, something she’s done since the late 1970s.

Interview by Ryan Leach

This interview originally ran on Razorcake’s website. 

Ryan: Where did you meet John (Talley-Jones)?

Kat: Like John, I come from a military background. I was born in Italy. I later lived in Japan, the (Washington) D.C. area and Iran. I met John at the University of Texas at Austin. We gravitated towards the same circle. There were Texans and then there were army brats. We had a different frame of reference than other people did.

           John was walking down the hall of the dorm I lived in. I had pulled a picture out of the NME of Kevin Ayers and put it on my door. Kevin Ayers was wearing some blue silk jacket. It was a great photo. I loved Kevin Ayers, The Soft Machine and the Ayers, Cale, Nico, Eno album.

Ryan: That’s a great live record.

Kat: Yeah. My roommate was a lesbian, so we had a nude pinup of a woman on the door too which was very scandalous—we hoped.

Ryan: At that time in Texas it was. Even in Austin.

Kat: Right. John and a friend of his were walking down the hall. They stopped, saw the photos on the door, and wondered, “Who lives here?” I opened the door and there was John, wearing blue eye shadow, black nail polish and a toothbrush around his neck (laughs). We got to know each other after that, running in the same circles. I went out with a guy and John went out with his sister—you know how it is being college aged. Everyone is switching partners.

           John left UT. His parents thought—and maybe he did too—that film school would be better at UCLA than at UT. That probably wasn’t the case, but John left for California. My parents had moved from Iran to Redondo Beach. So we got back together again. It’s complicated.

Ryan: John had mentioned that he had moved to San Francisco before attending UCLA.

Kat: He was in San Rafael in Marin County. He lived with his aunt and uncle and worked at a bookstore in San Rafael. That was before he went to UCLA.

           My parents went back to Iran. I moved in with my brother in Santa Barbara. I was living in Santa Barbara, John went to UCLA, and then we started going out. I did not see the first Urinals iteration when they played the talent show at UCLA. However, I did see the first three-piece show at UCLA with Kevin (Barrett), Kjehl (Johansen) and John. That was on the fourth floor of Dykstra Hall.  

Ryan: Had your parents not moved back to California, would you have likely stayed in Austin?

Kat: Probably not. At that time, there wasn’t really a scene yet. It was sleepy. It was a place where you could get by getting stoned, paying $100 a month for an apartment. I was ambitious, but I didn’t happen to paint or anything. I didn’t love Austin. Just as I was leaving, friends of mine were forming The Huns. We would go to Raul’s and bands like the Skunks were playing. The Ramones and Patti Smith came through there. So there was stuff, but LA felt much more exciting.

Ryan: You mentioned The Huns. So you knew Phil Tolstead and the rest of the band?

Kat: Yes. Phil was an Air Force brat. We had a mutual friend named Victoria (Jones) who Phil went to see the Sex Pistols with in San Antonio. She had lived in London. We were people with a broader background. I can’t say that above everyone in The Huns. I’m still friends with Dan Puckett who played keyboards in the band. I knew their drummer, Tom Huckabee. My boyfriend at the time had a crush on him which was awkward (laughs). I was getting away from that situation too. My parents moving back played a part. But my brother was at UCSB and needed a roommate. I thought, “Well, I’ve got nothing going on in Austin, so I’ll live with him.”

Ryan: You took a lot of early Urinals photos—obviously, for most of their record sleeves. Was photography something you had been pursuing previously?

Kat: Well, I had a camera (laughs). It was just because I was there and I had one. I wasn’t really trying to be expressive. I didn’t take that many photos of shows; the cost of film and developing was expensive. Also, with the low light, the photos often came out horrible.

Ryan: You need an SLR and a lens with a low f-stop. Even then, results aren’t guaranteed.

Kat: I had a Canon FTb camera. I was the beneficiary of trickle down: my dad would get something new, and I’d get the old version of whatever he replaced it with. It was a nice camera that was unfortunately stolen. I didn’t take photographs as a means of self-expression. I just had a camera and I was standing there.

Ryan: If you don’t mind me digressing back a bit, did your parents have to flee Iran when the Shah fell or had they already moved back to the States? I can’t help but think that all of this—you having lived in Iran—played some part in the naming of “Surfin’ with the Shah.”

Kat: Yes, they did. They went on Christmas vacation and never went back.

Ryan: Amazing. I’m glad to hear they got out safely.

Kat: Yeah. My dad was an army officer. He liked that kind of excitement (laughs). I was in Iran and John would write me and send me punk mixtapes. Iran was very much on his mind. I would say that had a lot to do with naming of the song, “Surfin’ with the Shah.” But not the modality or anything.

Ryan: What years were you in Iran?

Kat: I was there when I was in high school, so 1970-1973. I then went to the University of Texas. I was an insane overachiever and graduated UT in three years. My parents moved back to Iran. I went to visit; I thought, “Why go back to the States? I can get a job here.” So I got a job typing repair logs for Bell Helicopter. I came back to the States with something on my resume: “I’ve had a job!” When I moved back to Austin, I was employed by a contractor that worked for the Air Force at what was then Bergstrom Air Force Base.

Urinals practicing at Dykstra Hall (UCLA). Photo by Kat Talley-Jones

Ryan: Going back to the early days of The Urinals, do you recall the first 7” EP (self-titled) coming out?

Kat: Oh, sure.  

Ryan: You took the photo for the back cover. I can only imagine being part of a self-released 7” was pretty exciting back in 1978.

Kat: It was very exciting. I had been a prog fan. I loved Yes and Emerson, Lake & Palmer. It seemed so out of reach; what ordinary mortal could release a record? To think that you could control the means of production that way was amazing. I can’t remember if that’s the one with the taped piece of Super 8 film on it, but I certainly sat down with Kevin and Kjehl and taped pieces of film on one of the labels. I stuffed the singles too into the plastic bags. I would go around with John and we’d drop the records off to stores on consignment. I was still living in Santa Barbara. I recall going to record stores there. People were often extremely uninterested, because the records were so handmade looking. Not all of the record stores—even the independent ones—were interested in the DIY thing yet.

Ryan: I grew up in Newbury Park, between Los Angeles and Santa Barbara. I found it surprising that The Urinals played an early show in Santa Barbara (at George’s on November 4, 1979). The recording was recently released as a live LP, Pin the Needles. You must have been the conduit for that show.

Kat: Yeah. There was a band that was playing up there, The Neighbors, and someone in the group worked at a record store in Goleta. I would go and hang out there and that’s how that connection was made. Santa Barbara doesn’t seem that likely, does it? There wasn’t much going on up there.

Ryan: Nearly zero. You don’t think of Santa Barbara and punk.

Kat: There was a little bit. There was The Rotters.

Ryan: That’s true. Lance Loud was from Santa Barbara.

Kat: But he had moved on.

Ryan: Right. To New York.

Kat: I lived in Isla Vista. The Rotters played a park there and I saw them. I would walk down the street and people would yell, “Hey, punk rock!” Nobody looked like that in Santa Barbara then. There was this club called The Fubar in Goleta. I saw Magazine play there. There were probably 15 people there. It was not a crowd. People didn’t know about them.

John might not frame it this way, but I was also pretty instrumental in setting up the Raul’s shows in Austin (March 27, 1978, and March 28, 1978).

Ryan: That’s interesting.

Kat: Phil Tolstead had been John’s roommate (at UT), so I can’t say that they weren’t close. But I had a connection with the Huns. The Urinals played with the Re-Cords (at Raul’s) which was Tom Huckabee from the Huns’ band. They also played with the Norvells which was Sally Norvell’s band. I don’t have a specific remembrance of setting the Raul’s shows up, but I was always writing letters to (Huns keyboardist) Dan (Puckett), Victoria (Jones) and less to Phil (Tolstead). Phil could hardly manage to write you back. We were in touch a lot. When the Huns had their bust (September 19, 1978), they sent me a T-shirt with the image of Phil being arrested by the police officer. I still have a photo of me wearing it. I think I have the original cover art for their 7”. Victoria painted the cover and sent it to me. I’ll have to look for it. I’ve got boxes filled with stuff.

Ryan: It’s pretty amazing that the first Urinals show outside of UCLA was in Austin at Raul’s. Do you recall trekking out there?

Kat: I think we drove out to Austin in Kjehl’s Chevy Caprice. It was a small Chevy; it wasn’t big. We crammed everyone in there. My particular gift is that I wake up very early. When everyone else can’t drive another moment, I’m starting to wake up. With the four of us we were able to make it to Austin in one shot. I think it was 27 hours. We just brought guitars. Kevin borrowed Tom Huckabee’s drums. We stayed with friends and drank a lot of frozen margaritas. I think those two shows at Raul’s happened over spring break (1978). That was the only time everyone could get together to leave town.

Ryan: That makes sense.

Kat: Yeah. We weren’t in school or working.

Urinals performing at a house party. Photo by Kat Talley-Jones

Ryan: Can you talk about writing “Ack Ack Ack Ack.” As far as I know, it’s your only songwriting credit, but it’s a great one.

Kat: Right. Why not stay on a highpoint? I had heard the news reports about Brenda Spencer, the girl who shot some kids in school. It was the same event that inspired the song “I Don’t Like Mondays” (by the Boomtown Rats). I was thinking about that. When I was a kid, as everyone does, I’d play war with friends. We’d chase each other around and pretend to shoot each other. The boys—I don’t know if it was genetic or what—but they could always make that machine gun sound better than I could. I was always jealous. They could vocalize “Ack Ack Ack Ack” and I couldn’t. It was a word you’d see in comic books. I always liked it as a sound. Why did I name the subject of the song Johnny? Possibly because of John.

Ryan: How did the music come together? You wrote the lyrics and John composed the music?

Kat: I wrote the lyrics. I typed them up. I was still in Isla Vista. I probably mailed them to John. But we saw each other virtually every weekend. I would drive down (to West Los Angeles) and occasionally he’d drive up. But John had an old Volkswagen that couldn’t get over the Conejo Grade.

Ryan: I lived right at the top of the Conejo Grade for years. I know exactly what you’re talking about.

Kat: Yeah. So John would take the Greyhound Bus to Santa Barbara and he’d smell like the bus for a day or two. It’d take a while to get that smell out.

Ryan: Los Angeles to Santa Barbara isn’t too far. Nevertheless, it’s still about a two-hour drive.

Kat: There would be a Urinals or 100 Flowers show. Afterwards, I’d sleep until about 4 AM. And then I’d scoot out when there was no traffic to work. I had a Buick Skyhawk with a V6 engine. It was a terrible car; the clutch cable would always break. I’d drive it straight to work. It’s no wonder why I didn’t get the best performance reviews.

Ryan: Do you recall taking the photo for the Presence of Mind 7” EP? It has a real dada feel to it.

Kat: John came up with the idea. I think it was taken at Kevin’s apartment. I don’t know why it was just John and Kjehl (on the front cover). It feels like Kevin was developing in another direction. He had gotten extremely political. I wrapped them up in newspaper and took the photo. That one turned out nice because the black and white was more saturated. It seemed like the photos for the other albums were washed out. We may have had a rudimentary darkroom; it’s possible we made the prints ourselves. That sounds like something we would’ve done. It’s insane to me that we have so few photos. We just couldn’t afford it at the time.

Ryan: You’ve compiled an amazing Urinals and 100 Flowers gigography. How did you put it together?

Kat: I had these tiny datebooks my dad would get from the USAA. I would get one and he’d keep one. When we lived in Iran, I’d make daily notes. What I was doing in Tehran, the dates I’d been on and other things. I had a habit of making daily notes. Later on, I went back to those little pocket calendars and made that gig list. It’s moderately accurate.

Ryan: It’s an incredible resource. I didn’t realize 100 Flowers played Phoenix with the Meat Puppets (on October 17, 1981). I thought those early shows at Raul’s in Austin was the only time the early incarnation of the band left California.

Kat: We drove in Seabiscuit—the name I gave my horrible Buick Skyhawk. Again, it was Kevin, John, Kjehl and I and we drove straight to Phoenix. We left early. I remember Savage Republic drove out too and played; they might have been called Africa Corps then. I did take some decent photos of that show. It was at a boxing ring (Phoenix Madison Square Gardens). There’s a nice one of John and David Wiley that I took. David was in Human Hands.

Ryan: The Consumers too.

Kat: Right. We stayed at David’s house. Bruce Licher and the other Savage Republic guys stayed with the Meat Puppets at their place. The Savage Republic guys were pretty clean cut, but the Meat Puppets took acid and were playing cowboys and Indians over them all night. 

Ryan: That makes sense.

Kat: Yeah (laughs). It was always kind of a blitzkrieg thing. We actually spent one night in Arizona. 100 Flowers played in San Francisco. We drove up for the gig and then drove back home (to Los Angeles) afterwards. It was pretty horrendous.

Ryan: I’ve done Los Angeles to Phoenix and back to see a show. It’s pretty rough.

Kat: It’s doable.

Ryan: I did it in my early twenties. I’d just spring for a motel now.

Kat: Yeah. I mean, if they were playing in San Diego now, we’d stay the night at a hotel. We drove back from a show in San Diego one time. A truck tire bounced over the center divider and hopped over us, hitting the car behind us. That was scary.

Ryan: With the benefit of hindsight, it’s interesting seeing The Urinals evolve. You can hear their musicianship develop on each EP. Eventually, they’d release compilations like Keats Rides a Harley on their own imprint, Happy Squid. I picture The Shaggs evolving like that had they actually wanted to be in a band. There aren’t many similar examples. Maybe The Raincoats? I can’t think of any at the moment from Los Angeles.

Kat: They learned more and more as they went along. I don’t think they initially had aspirations to release, say, Keats Rides a Harley or The Happy Squid Sampler. An LP was unthinkable when they started. I’m sure John and Kjehl have mentioned this, but getting a mentor like Vitus (Mataré) was key. Vitus knew how to do things. Obviously, being in The Last he had a much broader reach. They knew Gary Stewart (The Last’s manager) and people who were more record business savvy. But there was never any aspiration to get picked up by a record label. That was also unthinkable. It wasn’t a political thing: “We’re pure of heart. We’re not going to sign.” But who would’ve signed The Urinals in that era? There was some interaction with Greg Shaw at Bomp! It seemed like it was all a natural progression. It wasn’t aspirational—if that makes sense.

Ryan: It does. The Urinals and 100 Flowers weren’t trying to get on Enigma Records.

Kat: Right. I think it was really satisfying to put out friends’ work. I think about the little Happy Squid Sampler (1980). Getting stuff out by Neef and Phil Bedel (“Bells in Ice” 45, 1980). I’m not going to say it was done out of generosity of spirit; they’d just figured out how to do it. John is extremely thrifty and a monetarily conscious person. Doing things as cheaply as possible resonated with him. They were playing with all of these great bands—Leaving Trains, Meat Puppets, and Gun Club—and they had simply figured out how to get records made. So they did it without being careerist. It was coming from an artistic standpoint.    

Ryan: Do you recall the last two 100 Flowers shows at the Anti-Club (January 28 and 29, 1983)? I think that was the only time the band headlined a bill.

Kat: Oh yeah. It was so crazy—it was celebratory, but it was also the end of the band. There was that psychological development: celebrating and mourning at the same time. I don’t know why, but it always seemed like 100 Flowers played when it was raining. That’s true up until the present. I think the Anti-Club shows happened during an El Nino year. It was really wet outside; everyone at the club was wet. It was humid; the walls were dripping. The Minutemen played. It was a lot of fun. I remember thinking, “Why couldn’t it have been like this all the time?” But people didn’t appreciate them until they were ending the band.

           The second night was with the Leaving Trains and The Last. I don’t remember that show being as wild as the one where The Minutemen played. But how could it ever be?

Ryan: With the release of the Negative Capability compilation and reunion in 1996, it seemed like folks caught up with the Urinals. It was the same thing with Mission of Burma when they reunited.

Kat: Yes. Honestly, I think some of it had to do with the singles being collectors’ items. They were being bootlegged back in the 1990s. “Oh, that band I paid $100 for their 7” is reforming.” Perhaps I’m wrong on that

Ryan: I think you’re right. I was in New York City two years ago and I went to Almost Ready Records. They had just gotten the first Urinals 7” EP in. I remember saying, “Oh, wow! That’s the first one I’ve seen in the wild.” It has an effect.

Kat: Oh really?

Ryan: Yeah. I’d never seen an original copy of the first 7” before. Those records suck you in. We were talking about Vitus and The Last earlier: I recall seeing a test press of Look Again (1980)—obviously, the record was never released—on the wall at Amoeba for hundreds of dollars in the mid-2000s. It sticks with you. Especially with self-released records like The Urinals 7”s. They had an initial small pressing, limited distribution, and often record labels—with or without a band’s approval—will repress titles once used copies hit a certain price. If you released it and you’re not repressing them, prices go up and they sometimes get pirated.

Kat: It always irritated me. The band never saw any of that money. Like I said, John was very thrifty. I’m sure he wasn’t in the red. But they weren’t sold for much originally. I don’t know how many copies of the first EP we have. I’d be surprised if it was five. You wanted them out in the world.

Ryan: You’re still involved with the Urinals and 100 Flowers. I see you’re still taking photographs. It’s amazing seeing them play places like Belgium and China.

Kat: Yeah. I always thought they were doing interesting things. It wasn’t random. I had mentioned that their records being scarce had some allure, but they were doing something different. They continue to. All of John’s iterations of the band have been good. There are things I’ve liked more than other things. There have been times where I’ve liked the band less than at other times. But they’ve persisted because they have merit. All of the band members have a vision. I believe in it. There have been times where I’ve been busy with my own work and haven’t gone to shows. As I mentioned earlier, I wake up early, so having a set start at midnight isn’t always my favorite thing. But I enjoy watching them play. I think John appreciates that if I think something sucks that I’ll tell him. But not with an axe to grind.

Kat and John today, photo by Pat Aldarete. 

#urinals #100flowers #kattalleyjones #johntalleyjones #ackackackack #happysquid 

[under-the-blue-sun]

THE 882 FILES. - chapter two

story summary:  When their space pod unexpectedly loses power, Dan and Phil - two crew members from the International Space Station - suddenly find themselves revolving far above the strange atmosphere of an alien planet, and must now find a way to survive as they wait for help to arrive.

story word count: 4057

rating: teen & up audiences

warnings: profanity

song of the chapter: cherry bomb - the runaways

notes: yes yes i'm late i’m using the same excuse as last time i'm sorry !! look but i am gay and i can't count days so if you're mad.. homophobia.

link to ao3 (would highly recommend reading on ao3 due to formatting changes on tumblr!)

“Captain?”

 Captain P.J. Liguori huffed and trudged to the door. 

 “What do you want?” he demanded, swinging the door open aggressively.

 The person at the door clicked their tongue. “I believe it was you who sent me for your coffee, Peter Jones.”

 PJ rolled his eyes. “For the last time, stop guessing my name.”

 Chris smirked and walked in the office, tray in hand. He set down the cup of coffee with his milk and bags of sugar, trying to catch PJ’s eye. In all his years of working with PJ, he had never seen him this glum. Ordinarily, PJ would try to be positive about everything that approached him. Today, PJ was positive about nothing. He ignored Chris’ smiles and continued scrolling through his phone. Chris took a peek at his screen.

 “I thought you were quitting Twitter,” Chris said, pouring the sugar into the coffee.

 PJ sighed. “Can’t exactly be keeping off social media at a situation like this, can I?”

 “Here’s your coffee, Captain.” Chris said, pushing the cup forward. “How are you doing?”

 PJ glanced at the coffee. “Not well,” he said, stirring the coffee. “Also, can I have a long black instead?”

 “No. We haven’t got the time for worrying about coffees today. You have a lot to do today.” Chris said, secretly pleased that he had an excuse to not remake PJ’s coffee. 

 PJ nodded gloomily. “Alright. Read them off for me, then.”

 Chris pulled out his clipboard and cleared his throat. “Well, you have to announce the official numbers of the incident in 1 hour, followed by time with the press, questions from the audience, etcetera. Then, you have a meeting with the CEOs of all the companies on the ISS which I estimate would be around two hours. After that, we managed to book you an interview with the BBC tonight, so please wrap up so we don’t be late for that.”

 “Jesus Christ.”

 “Quite a lot to do.”

 “I can see that.” PJ said. “So I’m announcing the official numbers in an hour?”

 “Correct.” Chris replied.

 PJ hesitated. “So what are the official numbers?”

 “Overall, it’s 132 dead, 15 injured and 2 missing. For BPS, it’s 10 dead, 3 injured and 2 missing.”

 “Oh God, those are terrible numbers.” PJ said.

 “Here’s the list of names.” Chris said.

 PJ skimmed the list. “Macsen Crane, Victoria Guy, Loretta Hess, Daniel Howell, Kason Kumar, Ca-”

 PJ paused. “Captain Philip Lester.”

 “Peej? Are you okay?” Chris asked.

 “I’m fine. Kendall, is this the list of the dead?” PJ asked.

 “The dead and missing, Captain. Are you sure you’re fine?” Chris frowned, watching as PJ quickly wiped his cheek.

 “I’m sure.” PJ assured. “Who’s dead and who’s missing?”

 “I don’t know. I was just given this list of names.” Chris replied.

 “Kendall, go and ask for the specifics.”

 Chris nodded. “Yes, Captain.” he said, and scurried out of the office

 PJ closed his eyes. Please, God, do not let Phil Lester be dead.

SC LOCATION: SPACE SHUTTLE 882 - CONTROL ROOM

 Phil: We’re dead. Oh god, we’re dead.

 [Dan taps Phil on the shoulder, who finally opens his eyes and looks at Dan who’s smiling at him]

 Dan: Captain. We’re alive. We did it. We made it.

 Phil: Oh my god.

 [Phil pulls Dan in a tight embrace. He lets Dan go awkwardly]

 Phil: Sorry. It’s just-

 [Dan nods]

 Dan: It’s fine. 

 [Dan smiles slowly]

 Dan: We made it. We actually made it.

 Phil: And with 30 seconds to spare. We should have taken our time.

 [Dan and Phil both laugh, tears of happiness streaming down their cheeks]

LOCATION: ??

DATE: 25/06/2053

TIME: ??

DAYS IN SPACE: 1

 USER: Mr Daniel Howell

 My name is Dan Howell, pilot of the 882, assistant to Captain Philip Lester and flying to fuck-knows-where. I’m here because I barely survived the International Space Station’s first emergency situation after 53 years of safe work in space.

 It felt good surviving, at first. We had just made it, fire right at our tail. But when we looked back, half the ISS still burning, we felt sick. If we had barely managed to make it, we couldn’t imagine how many people didn’t.

 Fire in open space is weird as hell. On Earth and on the ISS, fire causes the surrounding atmosphere to thin and expand and flames rise with the pull of gravity at the base of the flame. The oxygen makes sure it burns until it runs out of fuel.

 In open space, the hot air from the flame still thins and expands, but as it’s without gravity, the shape of fire is more like a dome. Instead of flickering, the fire orb sort of just hovers there. The oxygen molecules drift into the fire, meaning the flame still manages to persist, but it’s slower and more sluggish because there’s not that much oxygen to deal with.

 It’s weird. Also kind of cool. Everyone loves the idea of fire in space, including me. My first experiment on the ISS was playing with fire in microgravity. Looking back, it was actually pretty dangerous. Jayden Hebert almost caught on fire, which was hilarious but also terrifying. Adrenaline was boiling in my stomach and we were all shaking with excitement.

 Now, my stomach hurts and I am shaking but for all the wrong reasons. The captain nor I have any idea about how many people did or didn’t make it out. There's a possibility that someone we know could be in there, slowly dying, and that scares the both of us. 

 If I seem upset, the captain is even more distressed. I didn’t have any friends on the ISS. I didn’t talk, or know anyone that well. But the captain is an all-round good kind of guy who was friends with everyone on the station. He hasn’t said it to me, but he feels guilty for surviving. 

 He shouldn’t feel guilty for long, though. We’ve realised that we’re going to die on the ship, and there’s not really much we can do about that.

 You see, these shuttles were created and packed by NASA, purely for emergency purposes. Outside of that, not really any use of them. The only thing mechanics have to do with them is make sure that they’re functional, and since there hasn’t been any emergencies on the ISS in the 54 years of running, they’ve kind of been slack for doing that as well.

 Shuttle 882 broke after Allen Stephenson got drunk and spilt his beer inside two years ago, and the mechanics got really mad at him and told him to fix his own problem. Of course, Allen’s an idiot and doesn’t know shit about repairing a fucking shuttle, and even if he did, he didn’t have the proper tools to repair anything, so there wasn’t much he could do. The mechanics knew that. Like I said, there hasn’t been an emergency in the ISS until yesterday. Fixing a random shuttle in Locker 5 was really none of anyone’s concern.

 However, this does pose as a problem for me and the captain now. Allen the Fuckface managed to spill his beer in a lot of places, but most importantly, the teleporter and communications area. Normally, protocol for an emergency is to use the shuttle to immediately teleport the ship to Earth. They made this super easy for us, making a button which only allowed you to teleport to our home planet. However, obviously, Allen managed to mess that up which means that we are 100% screwed. 

 In cases like this, normally, you would communicate with mission control, and they would send an unmanned ship to collect you from the coordinates you send over. However, Allen spilt his beer all over the coordinate tracker and, more importantly, the SOS messenger, meaning that we have no way to communicate with Earth or know where we are. 

 Yeah. Fuck Allen.

 SC LOCATION: SPACE SHUTTLE 882 - MAIN ROOM

 [Dan walks into the main room]

 Dan: Good news and bad news, Captain.

 [Phil looks up from the communications panel he is trying to fix]

 Phil: Let’s hear the good news first.

 Dan: Well, the good news is that NASA always prepares for an emergency by packing way too much food. I counted, and we have exactly 100 freeze-dried meals.

 Phil: That sounds good, but even if we both only have half a meal a day, that’s only going to last us for just over three months.

 Dan: That’s the bad news.

 [Phil chuckles sorrowfully]

 Phil: So, we’re fucked.

 Dan: Pretty much.

 [Phil sighs]

 Phil: Any good news, Howell?

 Dan: This shuttle is an older design from ‘32, so there’s a bedroom with a double bed.

 Phil: That’s good, but I feel like there’s a catch.

 Dan: That is the only bedroom, so, we either have to draw straws or we have to take turns sleeping on the bed.

 Phil: Right.

 [Silence hangs in the room]

 Dan: Well, you’re my superior officer, so you can take the bed. I can sleep on the couch. 

 [Phil stands up]

 Phil: Well, you said it was a double bed.

 [Dan nods slowly]

 Dan: Yes I did, Captain.

 Phil: Well, that’s it, then. We’re grown men. We can share the bed. 

 Dan: Right. Of course. No problem sharing a bed with my captain.

 Phil: Absolutely. And vice versa. No problem sharing a bed with my...uh...pilot.

 Dan: Definitely.

 [Silence awkwardly hangs in the room yet again]

 Phil: Any other problems we need to deal with either than...you know…SOS messenger and all?

 Dan: Yeah. Uh, no. No more problems. Not that sharing a bed is a problem.

 Phil: No, of course not. Uh…

 Dan: Yeah, I’ll just leave you to try and fix the messenger and teleporter while I plan out our meals.

 Phil: Yeah. Cool.

 [Phil crouches back down to stare intensely at the communications battle]

 [Dan leaves the main room]

LOCATION: ??

DATE: 25/06/2053

TIME: ??

DAYS IN SPACE: 1

 USER: Mr Daniel Howell

 So apparently, I am now sharing a bed with the captain.

SC LOCATION: SPACE SHUTTLE 882 - EATING ROOM

 Phil: So, is this half of the meal?

 Dan: Yep.

 [Dan and Phil prod their food]

 [Dan begins eating the food]

 Phil: Oh, fuck this.

 [Phil gets up and gets the full meal]

 Dan: Captain-

 Phil: I don’t care, alright? I would rather live for 100 days with a full meal rather than this half-ass shit. 

 [Phil sighs]

 Phil: I’m sorry for that. It’s just such a stupid situation.

 Dan: You’re right, it is. We barely survive from a fire and plunge ourselves into what? Starving and thirsting to death. It’s like the universe wants us dead.

 Phil: No. Don’t say that. The universe does not want us dead.

 [Phil grabs Dan’s hand]

 Phil: We are going to get out here. As your captain, I promise you that I will get us out of here. We will survive these hard days, and we will return to Earth. Understood?

 [Dan doesn’t reply]

 Dan: Not I, Captain. We.

 Phil: Sorry?

 Dan: You may be my superior, but it isn’t just your responsibility to get us out of here. This is on both of us, Captain. We can’t get out of here unless we work together. 

 [Phil smiles]

 Phil: Of course. Not I. We.

SC LOCATION: SPACE SHUTTLE 882 - LEISURE ROOM

 Phil: So? Any good movies?

 Dan: Not really. There’s the X-Men movies.

 Phil: Hugh Jackman or Jayden Benton?

 Dan: Jackman, of course. Why would they bring those Benton ripoffs on here?

 Phil: True. Anything else?

 Dan: The old Harry Potter movies. Some random rom-coms. War movies. Animated films. Space movies, unsurprisingly. I haven’t heard of most of them, and there’s a lot.

 Phil: Well, we have plenty of time. What should we watch tonight?

Aladdin (1992): 1 hour 31 minutes

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 Aladdin (1992) downloaded

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Lost Memories Part 8

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Not much in this one, I promise. 

Author’s Note: Well, here is the next part to Lost Memories. While I had planned to update a few other things before this one, inspiration hit for this particular fic. So here it is! I only see two more parts to this. It feels good to have gotten something new out for you guys! Enjoy. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

"She's no use to us if she can't remember anything."

The voice had been unfamiliar to Elijah's ears as he had began to wake up. The last thing he had remembered was he had been speaking with Y/N. That had been before the glass around them had shattered. After that, everything had gone black, he had no idea where he could possibly be or where Y/N was.

"Then make her remember." Another voice hissed followed by footsteps pacing. "You're a witch, you can remove the compulsion and get her to give up all the information we need."

Elijah's eyes opened and he found himself in what looked like a basement. Of course it had been modified from the looks of it. He currently laid behind bars and with every breath he took in, he could feel the vervain mist fill his lungs.

But as he looked around in the small confinement he was currently in, Y/N wasn't with him. It made panic began to fill him as he wondered where she currently was. It was as he slowly began to turn on his stomach that he heard her voice.

"You know she can hear you, right?" While any other circumstances that would have caused Elijah to smile about her remark, it was the way her voice sounded weak no matter how much irritation she tried to put into her words.

As Elijah turned over he got a better look at the place. Y/N had been tied down to a chair with vervain ropes. From the looks of things it hadn't been long that she had been sitting there. The droplets were falling from the rope where her hands and ankles were tied. With every drop Y/N winced as it landed on her skin.

Their captors, a man and a woman stood off to the side. It had been the man that had been pacing the room while he had been talking moments before. The woman, if Elijah could call her that, she barely looked to be any older than fifteen.

"A spell like that will take some time. We don't know what the Mikaelsons have been compelling her to forget." The witch said as she looked over at Y/N. "It won't be pleasant either." She said with a slight shake of her head.

Y/N gave a humorless laugh. "If its about my time in New Orleans, I've heard every story that puts the pieces together if you are looking for some bracelet."

"Bracelet?" The man asked as he took a step closer towards Y/N. "That's not what this is about. I couldn't care less about the Mikaelson bracelet. Its what inside here" He said as he lifted his hand to press his finger against Y/N's temple. "that I need. Its been lost during your time with Mikaelsons. If you've been compelled to forget your time there, you've forgotten about our deal."

Y/N's eyebrow raised as she looked at the man before her. "What deal?"

A small smirk pulled at the man's lips instead of answering. Looking over towards the witch he nodded his head. "Lets get this over with."

"I'm sorry." The witch said as she took a step forward and placed her hands on both sides of her head.

All Y/N heard was the beginning of a spell before pain coursed through her as she yelled out loud from the pain. She had barely even registered Elijah's voice, or the sound of him struggling to get through the vervain covered bars.

She could only see the witch in front of her before bits and pieces of her memories played through her mind. It seemed the further into her mind the witch went the more pain she felt.

"Stop." She pleaded as she tried to move out of the chair. While her mind held the most pain, the vervain that currently burned her skin was the last of her worries.

It was then that she had began getting glimpses of the past she didn't remember.

"Thank you so much." Y/N said as she held the Red velvet cupcake in her hand as she began to turn around. Even for a vampire she should have seen that there was someone standing there behind her, but she had been so excited about this little shop that Alyssa had told her to check out.

The sound of the cupcake meeting fabric had made her gasp as she looked up at who she had bumped into. "I am so sorry." She said as she placed the cupcake down on the table nearest her. "I hope that suit isn't expensive."

Elijah's chuckle filled her ears just as the pain intensified. Y/N cried out as it had, a tear falling from the corner of her eyes. Her mind was trying to process the spell the witch had been doing as well as trying comprehend the memories that it had been forced to forget.

________

"Both Elijah and Y/N had been taken." Rebekah said as she walked into the courtyard. Freya and Klaus had been standing there with looks of worry on their faces as it was. Rebekah's words had only deepened it.

Victoria, who had walked in with Rebekah, had a look that could kill that was directed at Klaus. "This is all your fault!"

"My fault?" Klaus asked as he took a step towards the vampire. "It wasn't like I shot up the bakery while the two were sitting there."

"They could have been here speaking to each other. But you had to threaten my best friend all because you always been selfish." Victoria said as she took a step towards him as well.

Rebekah stood between them placing a hand up in either direction. "Now is not the time for this. There is someone out there that has both of them for a reason." She looked back and forth at the both of them. "Now please tell me this has nothing to do with that bloody bracelet." She said as she turned to look at Klaus once more.

"We saw to it that James and his followers had died that day." Klaus said as he took a step back. His glare never left Victoria though. He never had trusted the woman and now that she was blaming him for everything, it didn't make it any better.

"Who else knew of mother's bracelet?" Freya asked as she watched Rebekah dropped her arms down.

"Anyone who happened to be there when she made the damn thing." Rebekah noted. "There were handfuls of people there to watch mother create it."

"The better question is to ask how many of them knew the real purpose of it." Victoria said as she crossed her arms, looking at the siblings before her.

"Not many." Rebekah shrugged. "Only the people she trusted would have know. But as far as I understand, they've all been killed by our hands. James was the only one we couldn't track down."

"Stories of it must have been passed around." Freya shook her head as she tried to figure things out.

"What if it isn't the bracelet they are after?" Klaus asked, earning a glare from Victoria.

"Don't you dare think she's being taken for another reason." Victoria said not wanting to believe that Y/N was in some kind of other trouble.

"While you may not believe it," Klaus looked at Victoria before looking towards his sisters. "She came here because she was running from something, remember?"

Rebekah shook her head slightly. "She came here to visit Marcel." While it had been some time since Y/N had came to the city. Rebekah had been there with Marcel had gotten the visit from Y/N. She remembered excusing herself moments after introductions to help Freya with a spell she needed at the time.

"She came to visit Marcel for shelter." Klaus clarified. "Marcel had been running the city for decades while we had been gone. She befriended him and came back to see him after all that time. But she found out that we had taken back the city."

"You know what she was running from." It hadn't been a question but Freya only assumed.

He shook his head. "While I would have normal made it my business to know what she was going to be bringing into the city, I had other problems to deal with at the time."

"So what the hell was she running from before she came here?" Rebekah asked looking towards the others.

___________

Tears had ran down Y/N's face as the memories that had flooded her mind played out. Every detail that she had been forced forget had been right there on the surface now.

Elijah sat as close to the bars as he could without burning him self as he watched her. He had felt helpless as he watched every memory flood her. Everything that she had just hours beforehand said she would rather keep forgotten was tearing her apart all over again.

"Y/N.." He said trying to get her attention.

A shaky breath passed her lips as she slowly turned her head towards him. The broken look on her face had hurt him to see.

"I'm okay." She said with a slight nod before she bit down on her lip. She needed the moment to process every detail and emotion that had been taken from her.

Y/N's head turned her head back towards the witch and the man in front of her. A sigh passed her lips as she tried thought about what she was going to say next.

The man before her had been a vampire. One that she had known for centuries at that. Now that all of her memories had been back, she knew that she was in trouble. Her sitting there weak and strapped down with vervain wasn't going to help her at all.

Her Y/E/C met his green eyes. "Do your worst Lex." She said with a slight nod. ”Because I’d rather be dead than see her.”

Part 9

Always & Forever Tag: @rissyrapp20 @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @hawaiianohana15 @fafulous @vibhati123 @cassienoble2000 @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup

Lost Memories Tag: @jenniferpendragon @captainshurley @spookske1999 @anything-ispossiblenow   @therealwatermelon @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @andrea25434 @mschellehitt @cumberbabe92 @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit

Stag Tag:  @elejah-wonderland @cheers-my-dears-16 @xxsoveriegnsarayaxx

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek

Bold tag means for one reason or another I cannot tag you in this. If you would like to be added to, or taken off, please let me know!

[paradisobound]

I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 20

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Word Count: 4k (this chapter)

Warnings: Occasional swearing and alcohol and sexual content 

Rating: Explicit

Updates will be every Sunday around 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3 | WATTPAD**

This party felt a bit different than the one that was at Dan’s house just a few nights before. This one felt a bit more intimate and if Phil was being honest, that made it that much scarier to him. 

He felt completely out place and like there was nowhere for him to hide. At Dan’s party, there had been so many people that it didn’t make a difference if he tried to push through the crowds of people and move on to a different area. But right now, he was stuck in the middle of a conversation at Dan’s side at a pub table that was dressed up way too fancy…Phil was sure that there were Swarovski crystals lining the outside. He was afraid to so much as leave a finger print on them. 

Dan looked right in his element though and maybe that was what made Phil a tad bit more scared that he should have been. Dan looked so comfortable and poised and here was Phil, stood with his elbows on the edge of the pearl white table cloth and a half-drunk glass of Champagne stood in-between his hands. 

Dan had introduced him to these people who he was speaking to but Phil can’t bothered to actually remember what Dan said about them. All he knew is that Dan knew them from his movie and that’s all. 

“…Phil lives in London.” 

Phil picked his head up and looked at Dan. 

“Oh really? Which area?” 

“I’m not sure,” Dan said, turning his head towards Phil. “Which area is it?” 

Phil looked at the brunette who was currently stood on the other side of the table, her arms folded elegantly on the edge as her bracelets draped her forearms. “Victoria.” 

“Oh, Victoria!” She cooed in a way that made Phil want to roll his eyes. He actually doubted she knew where Victoria was. He wasn’t trying to be brash about it, to be fair, he wasn’t sure many people even knew London was broken up that way it was. He didn’t until he looked for flats. 

“It quite cute.” Dan commented. “His flat is near a beautiful park. And he also has the cutest puppy ever.” 

Phil was quite in shock. Had Dan been speaking so openly to this other person about him and he was just not paying any attention to notice? Or was Dan really just playing up the ‘we’re friends’ card? Phil wasn’t quite sure anymore. 

“Puppy?” She said. “Do you have photos? I’d love to see it.” 

“Oh course I have photos, Mimei.” 

Phil suddenly felt his stomach drop out of his ass. Was he really not paying that much attention to anything around him to know that this was Mimei Lake? She had a different hair color from the blonde locks she had in the attached photo from the email a couple months ago. Now it was a natural red color that reminded him of his own―but maybe her’s was a bit lighter. 

Phil watched as Dan pulled out his phone and put it on the table as he turned it around and showed her all of the photos of Spike he must have taken when he was in London. Phil watched as Dan scrolled through the photos but he didn’t recognize any of them. Nor did he know Dan had taken so many selfies with his pup. 

“What’s his name?” 

“Spike.” Dan and Phil both answered at the same time, causing Mimei to laugh. 

“Where did the name come from?” She asked. “Because that sounds like the name of a ferocious beast but he looks to be the cuddliest creature alive.” 

“It’s from a character on one of my favorite TV shows Buffy.” 

Phil watched as Mimei’s eyes lit up. “Buffy? Oh my gosh, I loved Buffy as a teen! Sarah Michelle Gellar was my idol!” 

“I used to have the biggest crush on her.” Phi admitted with a chuckle. Dan laughed to himself next to him. “My mum used to find it weird how I had her photos hanging on the walls of my room.” 

“Amazing.” Mimei commented with a smile. “That sounds like me with Aaron Carter.” 

“You both with your teenage celebrity crushes.” 

Phil and Mimei both looked at Dan with wide eyes. “You’ve never had a celebrity crush?” Phil asked, elbowing Dan gently in the side. “That’s hard to believe.” 

“Why?” Dan asked. “I had celebrity crushes but I’m not gonna admit them.” 

“And why’s that?” Phil pressed. “How bad could they be?” 

“I’m not saying.” 

Phil was going to press more on the subject when someone else rounded to the table and stood by Mimei, placing her arm around Mimei’s waist. “Hello, Dan.” 

“Hi, Dayna.” 

Okay, so now Phil had another person to remember the name of. This time, their name was Dayna. That didn’t seem so bad to try and remember. 

“Phil, this is Dayna, Mimei’s wife.” 

Phil cocked his eyebrow up. That was a pleasant surprise. Maybe that’s why Dan was comfortable mentioning Phil so much around her. “Pleasure to meet you.” Dayna said, sticking out her hand for Phil to shake. 

“Dayna, this is Phil, my boyfriend.” 

Phil had to admit that it took a bit of his breath away to hear Dan formally introduce him as his boyfriend to someone else. He panicked a bit, looking around to make sure that no one else heard anything. Everyone else was in their own little worlds around the tables, just mingling with each other. 

“Ah, so you’re the famous Phil who Dan wouldn’t shut up about.” 

Phil looked at Dan with a smile just in time to see red flourish on his cheeks. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about me, huh?” 

Dan just shook his head. “Stop embarrassing me.” 

“You do it to yourself, bud.” Mimei said with a warm chuckle.

Dayna leaned over and whispered something in Mimei’s ear before Mimei looked up and smiled at them both. “We have to get going but it was great seeing you again, Dan. I know we’re done filming our parts together but it was a pleasure working with you.” 

“You as well.” Dan nodded back as Mimei and Dayna grasped hands and headed off towards another section of the room. 

“They’re both super nice.” Phil commented once they were gone. 

Dan nodded. “I loved working with Mimei.” He paused. “Although it was a bit awkward filming our sex scene when she’s a lesbian and I’m a gay male. Didn’t quite work how it should have but…” 

“I can’t wait to see the film.” 

Phil hadn’t really ever said that aloud because he wasn’t quite sure himself if he even was interested in the film before. But now he wants to support Dan in any way that he can. 

“I can’t wait for you to see it.” 

Dan began to lean down and Phil was ready to accept the kiss when Dan suddenly stopped and stiffened, standing up a bit straighter and stopping his movements. “We actually probably shouldn’t kiss here. Do you want to head out? I’m hungry and these tiny sandwiches aren’t doing much.” 

Phil smiled at him and nodded and they both left, their flutes of champagne long forgotten on the table. 

***

Dan had a driver chauffeur them around LA to get food and they managed to stop at just a quick burger place to grab food to take back to Dan’s house. By the time they got back, it was well past midnight and Phil was feeling a bit tired, but still a little buzzed from the party. 

It was apparent that Dan was a bit buzzed himself with a second wind of energy when they both got ready for bed and Dan laid down before Phil and reached for his phone, not even blinking or yawning in the process. 

Phil watched him for a moment as he rushed out a text with his finger tips and then threw his phone off the side of the bed and turned back to Phil with a smile. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

Phil will never get tired of this. Of seeing Dan in such a natural state like lying in bed with his pajamas on, his hair slightly messy and his eyes a bit glassy from the alcohol buzzing in his system. 

Phil’s said it once, and he’ll say it forever but Dan really was an angel. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dan says out of the blue. 

Phil feels his heart sink about but the hopeful look in Dan’s eyes make him remember that they promised to be there for each other and to never give up on the other person. He had to remember that, even if the question had his heart beating out of his chest. 

“Of course.” 

“Do you reckon we’re moving a bit fast?” 

Phil doesn’t know what he was expecting to be the question Dan was going to ask but it certainly was not that question. He felt his heart flutter a bit more before his eyes glazed over a bit. 

“What do you mean?” 

He was preparing for the worst. Maybe Dan was having second thoughts about all of this? Maybe Dan decided that he couldn’t be with some loser like Phil who wasn’t rich or famous? Maybe Dan decided that Phil wasn’t good enough for him? 

Dan let out a loud sigh that broke Phil out of his pessimistic thoughts. “It’s…not anything bad, per se.” Dan begins, rolling onto his back as if he’s avoiding making eye contact. “But I feel as if I don’t really know you?” 

Phil felt his heart break a bit more. 

Dan rolled back onto his side and looked up at Phil. “No matter how I say this, I’m aware I’m going to look like a dick but it’s just…let’s get to know each other, yeah? I don’t want to rush forward and not know anything about you.” 

Phil let out a staggering breath. “But this isn’t you giving up on me, right?” 

Dan suddenly shot up and moved so he was sitting onto his backside on the bed, looking straight at Phil. He reached out and placed his hands on Phil’s jaw, steadying the slight wobble that it was beginning to have. 

“No, God, no!” Dan quickly reassured. “You mean the absolute world to me, Phil.” 

Phil felt like he wanted to believe him but his heart was still a bit ragged and his mind was a bit clouded. 

“And you’re the one supposed to not be giving up on me, remember?” 

Phil felt his head nod subconsciously. 

“So we’re not breaking up?” Phil asks, the question lingering in the air. 

Dan moved his hands around to behind Phil’s neck and drew Phil closer, planting a firm kiss on his lips that cause Phil to hesitate before reciprocating. He reached around and put his hand on Dan’s side, feeling the soft flesh mould under his fingers. 

Dan pulled away and shook his head. “You’re it for me, Phil. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re my person and I can tell already that we’re meant for each other. That’s why I want to get to know you. Now if you’re going to start crying, can you maybe warn me first because I’ll cry if you cry and I really don’t want to go to bed with swollen and sore eyes.” 

Phil let out a soft chuckle of relief as he and Dan disentangled themselves away from each other long enough for him to wipe away the moisture from under his eyes. “Now,” Dan continued. “Let’s play like twenty questions or something. You ask a question, I have to answered and we’ll go back and forth until we either get bored or pass out. I’ll go first!” Dan situates himself across from Phil on the bed and smiles. “How old were you when you have your first kiss?” 

Phil scoffed. “Oh we’re playing this kind of twenty questions?” Phil teased. “What are we? Twelve year olds at a slumber party?” 

“Hell fucking yes, Phil!” Dan bellowed out. “After this will do each others hair and then have a pillow fight.” 

“Shouldn’t we be drinking for this?” Phil asks. 

“Quit stalling and answer the question, mate!” 

“I was sixteen.” 

Dan’s eyes widened and Phil suddenly felt his cheeks flush. “Oh, Phil!” 

“I was a late bloomer.” He mumbled, trying to hide the embarrassment from his voice. 

Dan noticed and reeled the conversation back in. “If it makes you feel any different, mine was when I was age 6 with a girl named Lilith and all she did was lean forward plant her mouth on mine. It was quite gross.” 

Phil let out a laugh. “How old were you when you decided you wanted to go into acting?” 

Dan leaned back a bit and looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Phil studied his body, looking for any signs of discomfort coming from Dan just in case he stepped over a boundary that he didn’t really mean to. 

“Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question.” Dan says, finally looking down. “Because I decided I wanted to audition for my community theatre’s play when I was quite young but I didn’t fully decide that being an actor was something I wanted to pursue until I was about 14 or 15. It kind of came with the mentality of people always telling me I was good at it and that I had the ability to act.” When he’s done, Phil looks at him and notices that Dan’s face is a bit sullen and a bit sad. But he doesn’t look hurt or upset about answering the question. “When did you decide to work for the BBC?” 

“When I realized that I had no clue where I was going in life and I felt like I needed a sense of direction.” 

That was the honest truth. Phil applied for the BBC on a whim. He had no intentions of ever getting the job nor getting near London to even take the job. But he received it and was stuck working in the BBC in an office all day with Louise, PJ, and Gemma. 

But he doesn’t hate what he does. He just hates that he lost the passion he once had to go work for an office in London.

“And the BBC gave you that?” 

Phil had half a mind to joke with Dan and tell him that he couldn’t ask more than one question but honestly, he felt like he needed to answer this one. Not only to give Dan an answer, but also give himself an answer as well. 

“No.” Phil answered truthfully. “It gave me friends and it gave me memories and it gave me money. But in the end, it also gave me a job that…” Phil let his thoughts linger off before he looked at Dan and their eyes met and he finally spoke the words he hadn’t thought he’d ever speak. “But it also gave me a job that I hate.” 

Phil doesn’t think hate is the correct term. He doesn’t hate the BBC or hate what he does. But he does hate how the BBC took up his time and his job took his time away from him to follow the true passion he used to have which is YouTube. 

“Then why do you stay?” 

“I thought this was going back and forth.” 

Phil partly teased that but he also kind of wanted to drop the subject and move onto something much more lighthearted than talking about how actually miserable he is. He didn’t realize he was even this miserable until he began talking about the BBC right then. 

Dan smiled at him. “Ask me something then.” 

“Be honest with me, okay?” Phil began and Dan nodded. “Do you wish your life wasn’t like this?” 

“Like what?” 

“Followed by paparazzi all the time? Having a house with a gate you can only get through by using an access code? Your name the source of news and headlines all over the world and fangirls crawling all over your tweets and speculating about everything you do?” 

“I hate my life, Phil.” Phil looked at Dan and saw the way his jaw wobbled as he reached up and stubbornly wiped away a tear from his cheek. “This life isn’t what you want, Phil. It’s not even what I want anymore. And If I could leave it all behind, I would.” He looked at Phil quickly before squeezing his eyes shut tightly as another tear slid down his cheek and Phil moved forward quickly to wipe it away. Dan shivered underneath his touch and opened his eyes, staring into Phil’s with a grateful look. “I want to be normal, like you. I want to work for the BBC in an office job and make YouTube videos and have friends who actually care about me. But I’ll never get any of that.” 

My life was always characterized by my name and it forever will be. For fucks sake, I have word that I might even be getting a Hollywood Star of Fame sometime next year. I have no chance for a normal life anymore. I have no chance for that. And maybe it’s a bit selfish but I want to live vicariously through you. I want to be with you when you go to the BBC and I want to be with you when you make your videos because any chance I have at a normal life, I want to grab at it and never let it go. Because my life will never go back to normal, Phil. It just can’t.” 

Phil waited until everything Dan was saying was over before he studied Dan’s face and watched as he wiped his tears away before sniffling and let out a shuttering breath. 

“I’m sorry for just unloading all of that onto you.” Dan says, letting out a small laugh. “It felt really good to actually get all of that out but I hope it doesn’t like, scare you away or anything.” 

Phil shook his head. “No, I totally get everything you’re saying.” 

Dan gives him a look of ‘you really don’t but I appreciate the sentiment’, before he lets out a long yawn and gives Phil a sympathetic look. “I’m really tired now. Do you want to get ready for bed?” 

Phil’s eyes feel a bit sore and weary so he nods. 

Dan stands up quickly and makes his way to the bathroom first, shutting the door behind him. Phil is left sitting on the bed, gathering all of his thoughts about everything Dan had just said to him. It was a lot to process and it was a bit hard for Phil to really think about at this hour and also with his mindset. 

Dan came back out a few minutes later and by that time, Phil had already settled into bed under the duvet, waiting for Dan to come back. Once under the duvet, Dan immediately rolled into Phil and Phil wrapped his around him, letting himself snuggle the younger male. 

The amount of vulnerability and openness that Dan showed Phil tonight was something he would never forget and he was convinced that it’s something that will strengthen their relationship from this point forward into the future. Dan was right after all. They really did need to get to know each other before they can move on. 

“I’m glad we had this talk.” Dan said, his voice coming out a bit muffled from talking into Phil’s chest. 

He pulled back a bit and Dan looked up at him in the pale moonlight of his room that was seeping in through the sheer curtains. “Me too.” 

Dan leaned forward and connected their lips together. Phil pushed forward, deepening the kiss as Dan rolled onto his back willingly. Phil’s been hungry for Dan’s kisses all night and having Dan kissing him again was taming the embers that were firing up inside his core.

He found himself hovering over Dan, lips detached from his lips and making small kisses down his jaw onto his neck. He found the soft flesh of Dan’s neck and nipped at it with his teeth a bit before sucking onto the sensitive skin. Dan moaned out, reaching his hand out and placing it on the back of Phil’s neck to hold him in place. 

Phil loved this. The taste of Dan’s skin on his tongue was like a delicacy that he couldn’t get enough of. He pulled back and moved a bit lower, attaching his lips to Dan’s collarbone. 

Dan squirmed under him as he whimpered and continued to whine at the sensations. Phil honestly felt a bit drunk off from the pheromones Dan was giving off to him. 

He pulled away, moving his head back so he could connect their lips once more. It was a bit sloppy and a bit messy and Phil was sure their teeth might have clashed but he didn’t care. Anything with Dan was amazing and nothing would ever destroy that mindset for him. 

Phil’s hips instinctively rolled down, looking for friction to serve as relief for the heat pooling in his lower body and his cock springing to full hardness. He could feel Dan’s under him, the hard outline of his own cock jutting into his hip. 

“Are you okay with this?” Phil asked, looking for consent given how open and vulnerable Dan was just ten or so minutes ago. 

Dan nodded quickly and practically begged. “Yes! Please keep going and don’t stop.” 

Phil nodded to Dan’s command and reached his hand between them, fishing his cock out of his pajama pants and letting it spring free between them. Dan reached between them and Phil felt his hand down the same and then Dan’s hips cantered up and suddenly, Phil’s vision went white. 

His head tipped down and found solace in the crevice between Dan’s neck and shoulder as he let of a loud moan. Dan’s hand wrapped around both of them and began to stroke as Phil’s hips rolled forward on their own accord. 

He’s never done this before. He’s never felt the sensation of his already painful erection being stroked along someone else. The feeling of it was enough to send shivers of heat down his spine as he struggled to remain in control of his movements. 

He picked his head up and looked down at Dan who was smiling lazily up at him. Phil quickly reached down and pushed Dan’s hand out of the way as he took over, stroking them to his tempo and his speed. 

It was over far quicker than he would have liked to admit, shooting white over Dan’s stomach and dribbling a bit over Dan’s cock. Dan finished not long after, quickly shoving Phil out of the way as he stroked himself to completion and then fell back into a heap on the bed. 

Dan got out of bed first to grab them something to clean up with and when he came back with a damp cloth, Phil gently used it to clean off his hand as he tucked himself back into his pajamas. 

Dan yawned on last time before he settled into bed and leaned over, kissing Phil a few more times with quick little pecks against his lips before settling down onto Phil’s chest. 

“Thank you.” Dan whispered, just as Phil felt himself drifting off to sleep. 

“What for?” 

“For making me feel like a normal person.” Dan says, his voice soft. “For actually making me feel loved and not like you’re using me to say you got to sleep with the famous Dan Howell.” 

“I’d never do that.” 

“I know.” Dan pressed. “That’s why I’m saying thank you.” 

Dan fell asleep not long after the conversation ended and Phil was left, laying back on the bed with his eyes wide open now as he processed Dan’s words. 

Thank you for actually making me feel loved. 

The mere thought of someone not doing that or showing that to Dan made him actually hurt. 

Sleep took a while to come that night. 

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records - Chapter Eleven

Word count: 4077

“He did what?!” Juliet almost spat out her cappuccino as Victoria gave her the low down.

It had been too long since the girls had a proper catch-up, and she was half glad that Andy had fucked up her morning so they had an excuse to get out.

“Yeah..” Victoria sipped her macchiato, placing it carefully down on the saucer before she glanced at her phone, rolling her eyes as she saw the fourth message that came through from Andy. For someone that had cared so little that he slept with someone 20 feet from her, he was sure chasing her a lot.

Andy [TD]: Come on babe, forgive me?

Andy [TD]: It was just one time, it meant nothing!

Andy [TD]: Was just trying to get us on the radio and it worked!

Andy [TD]: U can’t just run off, i’m gonna be here waiting for u and we’re gonna sort this out.

“Is that him?” Juliet asked, sitting up straighter as Victoria showed her the screen and the brunette rolled her eyes so hard they could have fallen out of her head. “Jesus, how can someone be such a fuck boy?”

“I know..” Victoria sighed, “I can’t believe that I didn’t see this before. Why did I even start sleeping with him?”

“Because he’s cocky, has a six pack and caught you when you were on drugs.” Juliet chuckled a little at the words and Victoria nodded, impressed at how well her friend had hit the nail on the head, “Also I think you were probably a little vulnerable. You just walked out of your job and moved out of your house, and you were in limbo with Josh..”

Juliet spoke before she sipped her coffee with raised eyebrows, wondering if the red head was ready to admit what her and Danny already knew.

The comment caught the younger girl off guard and she shook her head, “What do you mean?”

Juliet rolled her eyes once more, but this time it was different, a playful remark as she glanced down at Victoria's phone which again went off. This time the girl didn’t frown, but a small smile washed over her features and she immediately picked up the device, tapping away.

“I mean you had no idea if Josh wanted you so you were feeling vulnerable. Obviously you know how you feel about him now right?” Juliet spoke, and Victoria rested the top of her phone against her lips as she held it with two hands, contemplating the question and wondering if she should say it out loud.

Of course, she had an inkling of how she felt, but she had been heartbroken so recently, and was so scared of getting hurt again that she couldn’t let the feelings through. Still, when he had texted her to say good morning she had felt the same butterflies she felt when he kissed her forehead the previous evening. The same butterflies she felt when he had held her from behind in the kitchen and she had wished his lips had met her own.

“I don’t..” Victoria took a deep breath and shook her head, sipping her coffee before she started again, “I can’t think about anything like that right now…”

Juliet nodded, not wanting to push, but Danny and herself had been watching from the sidelines the whole time and were so close to just locking them both in the same room until they got together.

“You and Danny are pretty solid now though, right?” Victoria spoke, grinning as her friend almost visibly blushed at the mention of the brunettes name. “God, you guys are so cute it makes me sick..” She grinned and Juliet nudged the younger girls leg with her foot beneath the table.

“Oh shut up..” She grinned, “But yeah we’re pretty solid. He introduced me to his mum on facetime the other night.” Juliet was smiling so wide that it looked like it must hurt, and Victoria couldn’t help but mirror it. She was so happy that this wonderful woman in front of her had met her soulmate.

“How was that?” Victoria spoke, sitting back and allowing Juliet to talk about how well it went, the conversations that they had and the plans that they already had for Danny’s mum to meet her. They had solid plans for Juliet to go back with the boys at the end of their one year trip here and stay with them for a few weeks, and Victoria hoped more than anything that she could join the trip if only to visit California.

“Well, I’m happy for you..” The redhead grinned, glancing at her phone and chuckling as she saw that Josh had sent her a video selfie of him rolling his eyes.

J: Andy won’t shut the fuck up about this radio bullshit and how you almost kicked him in the face this morn

J: well done lmao you should have :P x

“We’d all be happy for you too y’no… Whenever you’re both ready to stop being so dumb…” Juliet grinned over her coffee, and Victoria shook her head with a laugh.

Josh had been sitting in the living room attempting to ignore the ramblings of his friend. Both Danny and himself were frustrated with his take on what had happened the previous evening, and while Danny was trying to remain as impartial as possible and was humoring Andy’s concerns, Josh was finding it difficult to contain his anger.

Texting Victoria was helping, her fast responses keeping him from hearing some of the worst responses to Danny mentioning the fact that he shouldn’t have slept with anyone else in the first place, but when Andy laughed at the fact that Victoria had slapped him, it was enough to rile Josh into standing and walking to the kitchen.

“You think it’s funny?” Josh placed both hands on the opposite side of the breakfast bar to Andy, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing in anger, Danny looking nervously between the two men in front of him.

“I think it’s funny that she got so upset when we were never exclusive, yeah..” Andy let out another laugh from his lips, and Josh took a small step back, running his thumb along his bottom lip as he looked at Andy with pure anger.

“I think you better get out of here before I fucking kill you.” Josh spoke, and Danny rounded the counter to stand closer to his friend, ready to push him back should something break out.

“You’re gonna kill me because I got us a spot on a radio show?” Andy chuckled, squaring his shoulders, elevating his jaw with a cocky smirk that made Josh even more angry.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit,” Josh spat, “If you really think that what you did is justified just because she has a radio show you’re more deluded than I thought.”

Josh moved forward and Danny grabbed his arm, shaking his head, “Come on. Roof. Now.”

The blonde looked at Danny, wanting to deny him and launch himself over the counter but knowing that his friend was right. Both of them were well versed in Andy’s arrogance, well experienced in what to do to ensure that it didn’t end up in a massive bust up, and leaving him to himself was the best way to deal with it. Josh would have had more of an issue leaving an argument where he knew he was right if ignoring Andy didn’t have as much of an effect as it did. If there was anything that Andy hated more than anything it was being ignored.

Pulling out a packet of cigarettes, Josh lit one and took a long drag as he shook his head, Danny watching him with careful eyes in case he decided to go back downstairs.

“How can he be so fucking stupid?” Josh almost spat, flicking the dead ash off the end of his cigarette before he took another drag, “So fucking heartless - did you see how fucking upset she was?”

Danny shook his head and sipped the coffee he had bought up with him, “I did - I don’t know either man. You know what Andy’s like, he always finds a way to justify his bullshit.” He let out a sigh and Josh shook his head, completely unsatisfied with the answer from his best friend.

He stood, his entire face contorted with anger as he willed himself not to go down there and burn his cigarette out on Andy's face just so he felt something other than the numbness that came with a cocaine high. Because how else could he be like this? He had always been arrogant and cocky, but he had never been so hurtful. Perhaps he didn’t understand what it felt like to be so betrayed by someone, and he hadn’t seen just how hurt V had been when she had been up here crying in his arms.

“She was fucking distraught up here, Dan..” Josh spoke, taking a quick drag before he continued, pacing as he spoke, “Literally crying her eyes out because he wasn’t even decent enough to tell her he was gonna fuck someone else - and he thinks it’s fucking funny?” Josh took another long drag before he threw the butt on the floor and stumped it out, deliberately avoiding the ashtrays on the table that Andy insisted they use.

“Josh.. I know that he’s an asshole, but you have to just leave him to it. This is exactly like the time we tried to get Drew to join as the bassist, remember?”

It had been the plan for a long time that they would get their mutual friend to play bass in The Dangers, they had auditioned him and everyone was in agreement but then the trio played what was supposed to be their last show as just the three of them and Andy had changed his mind. He had kicked off so much at Drew that the guy had barely spoken to Josh and Danny for weeks, and it was only when the bassist had said that he didn’t think he could be a band with the redhead anyway that the two had given up. The similarity was that Andy had justified his actions with an argument where he genuinely believed three pieces were more successful, that it would be easier to have him play bass and they would have to carry less equipment to shows because they wouldn’t have the additional guitar. It had never been an option that Andy would only sing.

“Yeah, it’s like that except if he said yeah, Drew had come over here with us and then he’d kicked him out of the band and the house.” Josh sighed and sat down, wishing that their friend was easier to deal with, that he wasn’t such a prick.

“Leave him to stew by himself for a while. He’ll apologise to Vic, you know he will. He’s an asshole but he’s not completely oblivious.” Josh flinched at the words and tried to keep his concerns from showing on his face, but he knew he was not the best at that.

In an incredibly selfish way, he had been hoping that Andy and Victoria would just never talk again. What if Andy apologised and she took him back? She had been so angry and upset that he seriously doubted it even being an option in her mind, but she deserved so much better.

“He’s a fucking prick.” Josh spoke, lighting up another cigarette and watching as an amused smile filtered over his friends face. “What? Do you want one?” The blonde held out the packet with one hand.

“No..” Danny chuckled, shaking his head and sipping his coffee, “I’m just wondering if you realise that you’re way too close to this..”

Josh’s brow furrowed in confusion as he tapped the end of the cherry in the ashtray, and threw the cigarette packet on the table, waiting for his friend to continue.

“I mean.. You like her right?” Danny shrugged as if it was the most obvious and non-chalant comment ever, and Josh looked up at his friend under his lashes, trying to stifle the smile that came from his best friend being able to pick up on his feelings before he had vocalised them.

Josh thought about his answer before he gave it. He wanted to deny it, wanted to keep pretending that his feelings for V weren’t affecting everything he was doing but what was the point? Even if he was being strategic because she had just finished with his friend, this was Danny he was talking to. Danny quite often knew things about Josh before he did himself.

“Yeah…” Josh shrugged in return, taking another drag from his cigarette before looking up at his friend, “I mean, he’s still a prick though.”

“Oh yeah, he’s still a prick..” Danny nodded in agreement, “But you think he’s more of a prick because he cheated on the girl that you like.. So maybe just.. Maybe just remember that before you go around throwing punches.”

Josh chuckled at his friends words, shaking his head, his words quiet as he admitted out loud for the first time, “Trust me, it’s not something I can stop thinking about.”

He cleared his throat and took another drag before he continued, “How did you know?”

Danny let out a laugh that was louder than Josh had been expecting and he shook his head with a wide grin.

“You wrote a song called Red that had the lyrics ‘You’re not mine’ in them over and over…” Danny chuckled, sipping his coffee, “I know that I can usually pick up on how you’re feeling without you saying anything but dude.. You may as well be wearing a shirt that says ‘I HEART VICTORIA’ in massive red letters.”

Josh grinned at his friend, shaking his head, “I thought I was being subtle..”

“It was about as subtle as Justin Timberlake writing Cry Me A River about Britney Spears and then putting a lookalike in the video…” He grinned and Josh shook his head, letting out a deep chuckle.

“Do you think she knows?” Josh asked, looking up at his friend with a coy look in his eye, hoping that this conversation would never be spoken about again. He felt like he was in high school with all this ‘who likes who’ bullshit but while they were on the subject…

“I think she might have an idea, but she hasn’t said anything to Juliet about it. It was just as obvious to Juliet by the way..” Josh chuckled and bit his lip before he let out a deep sigh.

“Guess I better wait for a while to suggest any of the other stuff i’ve written over the last couple of weeks then..”

Danny grinned, “Nah dude, you gotta let it out in some way. We’re certainly not getting any lyrics from Pablo Escobar down there are we…”

Josh grinned, the joke cracking him up and he put out his cigarette as he heard a door close from below.

“Now come on, let's get you some coffee and hear the 500 songs you’ve written about unrequited love..”

The time the boys spent in the studio became one of their most productive moments, 5 different songs demoed and 3 that Andy actually liked. Danny had known that getting the boys in the studio together would help them sort out their beef, and it did. They had always been able to put aside anything for the music.

“This one — this one's my favourite,” Andy spoke, and Danny glanced at Josh as a small smirk plastered its way across his features. Andy had chosen the song that Josh had written about him.

“Alright,” Josh grinned, “get in that booth and we’ll do your vocals” He sat up in his chair ready to work, but then turned his head as a knock permeated the room.

“Come in..” Danny called, and Victoria poked her head around the door, pointedly avoiding Andy’s eyes.

“We’re getting a take away, do you want anything?” She offered to Danny and Josh, walking into the studio and taking a seat next to the blonde to show him the menu she had up on her phone. As Danny and Josh were looking, Andy moved behind the chair and lowered his hands to Victoria’s neck in an attempt to give her a massage as he had done in the past, but she leaned forward and eventually stood up when he wouldn’t relent.

“Get your hands away from me,” Victoria spoke, moving to stand next to Danny as Josh looked between the red heads, ready to make a move if he needed to.

“Babe come on, this is getting stupid now.” Andy sighed, visibly annoyed having obviously not thought through implications of his actions.

“Stupid?!” Victoria spat, and Josh stood up in his chair in time to stop her from launching herself at his friend. Josh held her waist and pushed her back toward the couches that sat opposite the mixing desk, and she spat profanities over his shoulder at the redhead who stood there in shock.

“Woah, woah, woah, lets keep this away from the million dollar recording equipment shall we?” Danny spoke, pressing his hand to Andy's chest to stop him from approaching Victoria. It was clear that he had no idea how much he had hurt her, and thought he could make it up but just apologising.

“I said fucking sorry!” Andy spoke, and Victoria let out an exhausted laugh

“Oh ,you’re sorry?! Take your apology and shove it up your ass you ignorant, self obsessed, narcissist.” Josh couldn’t help but grin a little at her words, the fire in her something that just made her more attractive.

“You’re gonna miss me and come crawling back you just wait,” Andy spoke, his cocky smile enough to make Victoria try and push past Josh, but he held her firmly in place with his hands on her waist.

“I wouldn’t crawl back to you if your cock was the last source of oxygen on the planet” she spat, and Josh and Danny let out a small laugh. Shock washed over Andy's face, and Josh bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched Victoria’s features change from anger to a small smile as she realised what she had said.

“Pretty strong image you conjured up there..” Josh smirked, eyes darting from her own to her swollen lips and god did he want to kiss her.

“Yeah… maybe you could put it in one of your tracks..” she chuckled, resting her hands on his biceps as his hands remained on her waist, and it felt so good to be held like this by him.

Andy’s eyes darted from Josh to the girl that had been his and felt his stomach drop a little. She had been his, was his girl. They were going to argue and then sort it all out like he always did with everyone, were going to end up back in his room with his hand around her throat as he buried himself deep inside of her just the way she liked it..

Except maybe they weren’t. Was it possible that he had gone too far this time? That this girl wouldn’t forgive him? Did she… did she prefer Josh?

“Whatever.” Andy shook his head and muttered to himself before he walked to the vocal booth, “someone record my vocal track for this stupid song.”

Josh smirked as he turned to Danny, reluctantly moving his hands from her and smiling as she sat back next to him, their knees touching.

The boys chose dinner while Andy recorded a vocal track that was about himself, and when the food arrived they all sat around the dining table.

“Well isn’t this civilised..” Juliet spoke as they handed around boxes of mu shu pork and noodles. Victoria chuckled, picking up a piece of pork from Josh’s plate with a grin and he looked up at her with a mock shocked face. Andy sat opposite them, quiet for once and seething with anger at what was happening in front of him.

“Yeah.. super civilised..” Danny spoke, smirking as he watch Josh steal from Victoria’s plate, and Andy flicked a song on the sonos, staring at his plate as they ate.

Victoria couldn’t help but feel the butterflies again as she sat next to Josh, each touch of their knees to each other’s, each playful grin bringing her closer to him. He had taken her broken heart and held it so it couldn’t break further, and although she was still hurting she was more than happy to trust him with it. He always had made her happier than anyone else, now she felt like she was allowed to let it show.

After a few bottles of red between them, Andy stood and left his plate, grabbing his jacket from where he had left it on the couch.

“Where you going?” Danny called after him but was met only with the front door slamming as a response.

“Probably going to pick up..” Victoria spoke with a sigh, sipping her wine and shrugging.

“Are we gonna talk about how much of a problem he has?” Juliet spoke, the Malbec making her bolder than she would be usually. Danny and Josh made eyes at each other and shuffled uncomfortably, “I mean I know you guys want to stay out of it but half the reason he fucked over Vic is because he’s high all the time..”

“King…” Victoria started and she shook her head.

“No, Vic someone has to say it. He thinks he’s invincible because he does about a gram a day and everyone’s just acting like he’s fine..”

“He is getting worse..” Danny spoke, and Josh nodded in agreement, his arm moving to rest on the back of Victoria’s chair, his thumb absentmindedly running along the back of her neck. Victoria’s body erupted with goosebumps, and she couldn’t concentrate on such a serious conversation when both him and the wine were lulling her into an almost meditative state.

“I’m not talking to him, I’ll end up punching the guy..” Josh spoke and Danny sighed, clenching his jaw in an obvious sign of frustration. He was always the one that had to be impartial, and while he didn’t mind for the sake of keeping the peace it did get a little tiring.

“Fine, I’ll speak to him. But it’s not going to do any good, not when him and Vic are still not talking.” He shrugged and sipped his wine, Victoria immediately feeling uncomfortable. She knew that she had been something of an anchor to Andy, that while he had been making her do more drugs than she was used to, he also did less than normal when he was with her.

“He’s going to have to get over it, I’m not letting him get away with hurting me like that..” she spoke, and was glad for Josh’s hand moving so he could grab his glass. His smooth and soft movements were enough to make her heart beat faster, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to hold back if he touched her like that again. She had been so hurt and didn’t want to jump back into anything, but it was so hard to resist someone who looked after her, who cared for her so well.

“I’ve got these tickets to visit Abbey Road and have a tour. Why don’t we go, and while we’re gone Dan can speak to Andy and get him to lay off hm?” Josh spoke, placing his glass down and returning his hand to the back of her chair.

Juliet looked between them, shaking her head and smiling into her wine glass. Was it clear to the two of them how much they were acting like a couple? Could they remove themselves from the situation enough to see how perfect they would be if they just gave into their affections?

“Sure..” Victoria spoke, and Josh smiled in a way that made her stomach do a backflip. When did everything that he did become so damn attractive or cute? She was sure this wasn’t an issue before, that she had known he was hot and had stared at his lips on one too many an occasion but this was a whole new level.

She was falling for him.

[charlchen-moonves]

About Dan’s comments on the game

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Dan said something along the lines of “future game play will be playing nice instead of cutthroat”. He made some very good points, I just wanna add my own observations.

Not to lay it all on one person (especially one who gets a lot of hate and blame), but in my opinion Paul broke the cutthroat mold. Or at least he’s a big reason why we are where we are. I think we all know Paul was a bit of a bully. He went further then just send people out. Had Josh lost, I think the “bb meter” would go back to zero (or almost zero, maybe 5 or 10). Paul strategy would be rewarded because it worked. But since Josh won, Paul’s behavior was further condemned then it already was by the fandom.

Also, Josh was no saint, he played the game, he sent people out. He’s a valid winner, he didn’t coste his way to the end like say Victoria.

In bb15 we had a very controversial season. Andy was hated. After he won the “bb meter” went back to around 5-10. Some of the game dynamics changed, the cast was “more” diverse (four PoC + two Jews and Frankie), bullying and racism was not tolerated (again, it’s bb, so it’s not perfect). Bb16 learned from bb15, but being cutthroat was still accepted, see how Derrick and Frankie played. Derrick were nicer when he sent people to jury, but he didn’t win because he was nice. When Frankie asked him “is it me? Am I going?” Derrick looked him in the eyes and said “yes. Frank, I can’t lie to you”. Josh did the same thing with Jason and Alex, kinda, and he sold Paul out in the goodbye messages.

If the strategy of “doing everything to win” is unusable in modern bb (that’s a big if, I don’t think it is), it’s because it was proven last season that it could cost you the victory. But Josh was also manipulating, he knew when to let the jury know what happened and not to make them feel stupid afterwards.

Anyway, what do you guys think? Feedback is welcome.

[glitterrhowell]

Time Ignites A Spark

Title: The Bully

Pairing:  Daniel Howell & AmazingPhil (Phan

Word count: 1.7k

Warning/Genre: angst. fluff

Summary: Prompt: Phil takes Dan to the park and Dan gets teased by another kid

Note:  Hi! This is going to be 5 chapters of little dan goodness! These are written for ficmas and the prompts all came from my lovely friend Christy (Fadingcrystalvoid). I will be posting one chapter a day leading up to Christmas so hopefully everything goes smoothly as I'm getting a new prompt each day without any knowledge of what they're going to be. These prompts should hopefully fit together to make one cohesive story. So I hope you enjoy and I appreciate everyone who reads!

Read on A03

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“Daddy, can we please go to the park?" Phil sighed softly and swiveled his chair around to look at Dan. "Maybe later kitten Daddy has to finish these emails ok?” He asked hoping Dan would accept his answer.

Tears started forming in Dan's eyes and Phil could tell he was on the verge of a tantrum.

Thinking quickly Phil formed what he hoped would be a solution. “How about this you go and watch one movie and when that movie is over we can go to the park ok?”

Dan face contorted as he thought. "Ok, daddy." He finally said.

Phil let out a sigh of relief.

Phil walked Dan out to the lounge and got him settled in.

“What do you want to watch princess?" He asked flipping through their DVD collection.

"Can I watch frozen plewse?"

Phil grinned Dan wasn't usually this polite which means he was trying really hard to be on his best behavior.

“Of course you can kitten." He said popping the DVD into the player.

Phil leaned over and gave Dan a quick kiss on the head before he turned to head back to his office.

~~~~~ Phil groaned surely there must be an end to all that emails. His eyes flickered to the screen noticing there were still fifteen unopened emails I'm his mailbox.

Eyes starting to twitch and hurt Phil took his glasses off and rubbed into his eyes perhaps a little harder then he should have as it seemed to intensify the headache he had already had.

A soft knock on the door got his attention.

“Daddy?" Dan questioned softly sticking his head in the door.

“What is it baby?" Phil asked turning back to his emails.

"Frozen over.” He whispered softly.

Phil glanced down at the clock on the computer. He couldn't believe over two hours had passed already. He sighed, “Alright kitten a promise is a promise go get your shoes on and we'll walk to the park ok?”

" Yay! Thwnk you Daddy!” Dan squealed.

~~~~~~ The walk to the park only took a few minutes since they didn't live that far. Dan buzzed with anticipation the entire time.

“I'm going to swing dawdy!" He squealed swing Phil's arm back and forth.

" That's nice baby,” he smiled.

They came upon the park and Phil walked him up to the swings. “Ok kitten daddy's going to go sit right over there, " he said pointing to the benches over on the other side of the swings.

" But daddy I want you to push me!" He whined.

Phil closed his eyes "Baby daddy isn't feeling too well, maybe in a little bit ok?" He asked knowing full well that Dan would probably tucker himself out before he remembered Phil had said that.

“Is daddy sick?" Dan asked suddenly worried. “ I don't want daddy to be sick!” Tears formed in his eyes.

“No daddy's not sick Darling just a headache ok?” He said trying to calm the boy down.

Dan looked at him skeptically before finally accepting his answer, “ok daddy I'll by myself for now. You go sit." Dan demanded pointing to the bench.

Phil chuckled "alright love I'll be right over there if you need anything. Have fun ok?”

" Ok daddy!” The boy screamed already leaving Phil alone as he ran to get on the swings.

~~~ Phil hadn't been sitting here long before a woman probably in her mid-thirties sat down beside him.

“Hello!" She bright exclaimed, “My names Victoria." She said extending her hand to Phil.

Phil really didn't feel like socializing but not wanting to be rude he extended his own hand, “Phil."

Which launched the women into a full-fledged bragging session about her daughter.

Phil sighed not really wanting to listen but being too socially awkward to saying anything to her.

Eventually, the conversation took a turn when the women mentioned some new kids show that had come out that her daughter loved.

“Dan loves they show as well!" He said.

“ Oh is Dan your son?" She asked. "Yeah,” Phil said not wanting to get into the logistics with this women.

“It's such a great show it taught Emily her ABCs in less than a month.” She gushed.

This lead them into an in-depth conversation about children's tv and the benefits it had.

~~~~ Dan watched his daddy talk to the women and sighed he wished his daddy was with him but his daddy didn't feel good. Getting bored on the swings he got off and made his way over to the slide. He patiently waited behind a boy for his turn to go down the slide.

While waiting his turn he felt a tap on his shoulder, ”Excuse me but what are you doing?” A young girl about a foot Shorter than him asked hands on her hips.

“Gonna go down the slide." He said shrugging his shoulders.

He turned back around because the line had moved. He was now second to next in line.

“You're too big to play!" The girl shouted. Startled tears started to form in his eyes. “What do you mean?" He asked lips quivering.

The girl stomped her foot, “ Your an adult you're too big to go down.” She said once again.

Dan was confused what was she talking about he was little just like her. His brain was too small to comprehend that what she was actually saying was his long limbs would definitely be a little long to go down the short slide.

With tears still in his eyes, Dan turned his back to the girl hoping she would go away and leave him alone. But instead of leaving him alone the girl kept yelling at him and by this time Dan was close to full in sobbing. He turned around to yell at the girl to go away when out of know where he felt hands on him and the next thing he knew was he was on the ground in the dirt.

This caused a very distressed Dan to have a full blown Panic attack sobbing and covered in dirt.

Phil was in the middle of telling the women how Dan had once fallen asleep in the middle of the store when he heard Dan scream.

Shook from his conversation Phil stood up and Sprint over to where Dan sat still on the ground. Once he reached him he got down on one knee, “Danny what's wrong?" He asked frantically trying to figure out why his boyfriend was a sobbing mess sitting in the ground.

Dan threw into Phil's shirt clutching the material of his t-shirt in his hand. Sobs wrecked through his body shaking him with every breath.

“She--sh-she pushed me, daddy!” He wailed pointing to a small blonde child stood next to him looking slightly frightened.

“Is this true? Did you push him?” Phil demand.

Dan clutched Phil's shirt tighter and buried his face into his neck as the girl spoke.

“Yeah, but I didn't know he be a big baby about it and cry.” She said the scared look on her face now gone.

“Why on Earth would you do such a thing?" He demanded.

Phil held on to the sobbing boy waiting for her to answer.

“Emily, what is going on?"

Phil looked up to see the Victoria the women he had been talking to run up.

“Is this your daughter ?" He asked.

The women wrapped her arms around the girl, “Yes this is Emily."

" Well, your daughter just pushed Dan down and doesn't seem to be sorry about it.” He snapped.

“Wait this is Dan?" She asked looking confused.

" Daddy I wanna go home!” Dan sobbed.

"Shh, it's ok baby we'll go home soon.” He said rubbing circles into the crying boys back

" Is this some kind of joke?" She asked still looking completely confused.

Phil was getting angrier by the minute. “Of course this isn't a joke! Don't you see him crying?" He asked pointing to the now whimpering boy.

The women and her daughter didn't say anything and just stared at them. Finally getting fed up Phil pulled Dan up with him and stood up “ I think you owe him an apology.”

"No way I'm not apologizing to him! What I said was true he is too big to be playing here. He’s a freak!” Emily shouted at him tears now forming in her eyes.

Phil looked at Victoria and the women wouldn't meet his eyes.

“Well, aren't you going to make her apologize?” He demanded.

Victoria looked at him hateful now. “I'm not making my daughter apologize to that freak! She screamed pointing at Dan.

This caused the bow hiccuping Dan to begin sobbing again.

Not even worried about an apology anymore Phil took Dan's hand and started walking away. He very much wanted to tell the women she and her daughter were being hateful and should be ashamed of themselves but his top priority at the moment was Dan.

Trying his best to soothe the clearly upset and crying boy Phil had wrapped himself around Dan again. Of course, making sure they were far away from the hateful mother and daughter.

Phil held the boy and let him cry and eventually his sobs subsided.

“Daddy?" A small voice questioned him.

Phil hummed, “What is it kitten?"

"Why was that girl so mean?” He whispered into Phil's neck.

Phil sighed “I don't know baby.” He answered honestly. "some people are just hateful I guess."

Dan sighed and shoved his face closer I to Phil's neck.

Phil just sat there hugging the boy when an idea came to him. “Hey, baby how about we go home and we can play princess?”

Dan perked up, “Really daddy?” He asked suddenly getting excited.

Phil chuckled “of course I know it's your favorite game.”

Dan squealed with excitement and shot up trying to pull Phil up with him.

Laughing again Phil stood up and took Dan's hand. Yes, he still had a headache but he today reminded him how important his baby was to him and all he wanted to do was make him happy.

So Dan and Phil made their way back to the apartment where Dan dressed Phil in a pink princess dress and covering his face messily in makeup with Phil enjoying every moment of it.

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

Okay but what if Tori met Luke much much earlier? Like when he was still on the run with Thalia and Anabeth. Tori going out to buy some sweets and Luke stealing them cause he got 2 girls to feed and Tori being all angry trying to catch him and idk... at the end she didnt catch him and forgets about it. But jokes on Luke, he got the sweets but she got his heart.

someone sent me this ask in forever and a day ago, and i can’t seem to find the original ask :/ which is also probably why i forgot about it -_-;

but i was looking thru my luke/tori misc file on my desktop (in a word file bc i had been planning on writing smth for it and i guess i got caught up in everything else) and found it again!! it was a very sweet surprise lol

so i’m here to remedy my forgetfulness with some hcs and a cute, fluffy drabble for ya’ll

so tori’s 12 and luke’s 13, so she steals his heart in more of a crush/squish the way middle schoolers do way at this point

a yr, maybe a few months before shit hits the fan for tori (and kinda luke since the whole thalia-getting-turned-into-a-tree thing happens ya know)

so let’s say...they’re in nyc proper, and uh luke, thalia, and annabeth are hanging out in one of their forts they built (i wish we knew more abt where they went, bc somehow they ended up all the way in west virginia at some point wow)

and luke goes out to find them food in the big city since it’s a great place to pickpocket ppl

tori, diana, and dan are out abt the town getting some mexican sweet bread as a special treat for dan getting cast lead role in his middle school play

as well as some sugary treats for tori for working hard to get her grades up (what with her dyslexia and adhd and all)

and diana lets tori carry the bag--one of those, “please let me carry the bag bc it makes me feel all grown-up and responsible” kind of things

so they’re walking down the busy streets, diana’s got both her hands in one of tori’s and one of dan’s

luke spotted them as they were exiting the baker, and see the bag tori’s holding and thinks that it’s too easy

but he’s hungry, thalia and annabeth are hungry and counting on him. instead of pickpocketing someone for their wallet and buying food (which would take too long and his stomach feels like its collapsing in on itself, so that would make concentrating hard) he decides to take an easier route

so he makes his way around them, jumping in and out of side-streets and alleys so he can get in front of them and approach from the front for easier grabbing and going

when his chance comes, he begins briskly walking, almost a jog, almost a run toward three williams, aiming for tori’s bag

he bumps her shoulder pretty hard, while making a grab for the bag

tori exclaims, “hey” and glares at him

dianan pulls tori more toward her

and luke realizes tori has a stronger grip on the bag than he thought

but he’s already a few inches away, still pulling at the bag and when tori realize’s what’s happened, her eyes widen in shock

luke takes advantage of that moment and yanks the bag from her fingers before turning and booking it

since it’s new york no one really cares abt the kid running down the sidewalk, clutching a bag to his chest like a football player

he hears a woman’s voice call out “tori!” in a panic and luke glances back to see the girl following him, running at full speed toward him, her brown eyes blazing with determination

that’s never happened before, not with a kid as young as tori

kids always screamed or cried and stayed with their parent(s) as he took off and disappeared

luke faces forward, pushing himself as hard as he can without overdoing it since he is kinda starving

but bc he’s malnourished and starving, every breath is like razor-blades in a lungs, and his visions starts to go a little fuzzy

he’s pretty sure he can hear tori’s footsteps behind him and when he glances back again, she’s gained on him

behind her are her mom and dan

desperately trying to focus, he faces forward again and calls upon the city’s map mentally and makes a route of escape

he swerves into an alley with a fence blocking off the other side, but luke doesn’t even hesitate, he throws the bag over mid-run and launches himself up onto the fence and easily scales it

tori turns into the alleyway just as he lands and picks the bag up

“give those back! they’re not yours!” she yells, going forward and grabbing the fence

at first luke thinks she’s just going to glare at him and shake the fence--many ppl have done that

but his jaw drops a little when she begins climbing it

in all the yrs he’s been on the run, this had to be the weirdest thing he’d ever seen, and that included the monsters he’d encountered

here was this tiny girl with blond pigtails, in a dress her grandma probably made for her, and mary janes scaling a fence in a nyc alley

more footsteps sound at the end of the alley, the side that tori’s on, and luke quickly darts behind a dumpster, crouching and clutching the bag to his chest

his knees are weak, and his vision now has spots, so he needs this break

he only hopes that those footsteps signaled the girl’s, tori’s, mom

and he lets out a sigh of relief when he hears, “tori”

diana is standing a few feet from the fence that tori has almost just scaled

dan is behind her, a “you’re in trouble” smirk on his face

“mom he stole our treats! i worked hard for that candy!”

“he’s not here, tori. please get down, i don’t want you to get hurt”

“he’s right there mom! behind that dumpster, let me just--”

“Victoria Anna Williams”

tori lets out a heavy sigh and begins to climb back down the fence

meanwhile, luke mouths her full name, picturing her climbing the fence. it suits her and he finds he really likes her name

“we’ll go buy some more. sometimes that happens.”

diana takes tori’s hand and squeezes, kneeling down and wiping some sweat from tori’s forehead

“please don’t run off like that again, you had mommy really worried”

“i won’t, i’m sorry.”

diana takes their hands again and they head back to the bakery

luke waits a few minutes just in case before heading back to thalia and annabeth

“wow, you got bread this time! who’d you steal it from?”

luke shrugs, “just some girl. wasn’t holding on to it very well”

“you’re face is red” thalia points out when she looks up from digging through the bag

luke starts. “is it?” he was thinking abt that girl, victoria. tori

“...yeah” thalia’s tone is like, “you think i’m lying?f”

“well i did just run a lot”

“you weren’t red before” annabeth points out helpfully

“look, i got the food okay and i’m starved, so lets dig in”

thalia and annabeth brush it off bc they’re also hungry, but while they eat all luke can think abt is looking back and seeing that girl chase him

and until they meet again, he can’t get her out of his head

fast-forward: luke’s been at camp now for abt a month or so when tori shows up again

and when he first sees her, his heart stops before doing a little somersault and he thinks, “it’s her. it’s the girl. tori.”

but he can also see she looks pretty despondent and so restrains himself from going up to her

besides what would he say, “hey i’m the kid who stole the bread and candy from you, but i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt you since bc i think i have a crush on you?” yeah. right.

besides it doesn’t even seem like she remembers him or that incident, which is kinda embarrassing bc he can’t stop thinking abt it

like in my og story, itps, they have that test to see what skill they’re good at, go into the forest to fight monsters, have more skilled campers watch over them

luke is so busy thinking abt how he could introduce himself without compeltely embarrassing himself when he realizes that tori’s in danger

he goes to her rescue, kills the hellhound, leans over her and helps her cover her wound before yelling for medic feeling insanely guilty abt everything

then he looks down at her and her eyes widen in recognition and she gasps, exclaiming, “it’s you!” before passing out

and now for the drabble :D fast-forward many yrs, they’re both alive, mid-twenties, and living together in nyc

Tori couldn’t sleep. She rolled over, reaching for Luke, but his side of the bed was empty. Still warm, though, so he’d just gotten up.

She glanced at the clock: 3am. Frowning, she sat up, throwing her legs off the side of the bed.

What in the world could he be doing at 3am?

She stood and shuffled out into the living room, which was right next to the kitchen, only separated by a breakfast bar. The lights are on and Luke is in the kitchen. Tori can see ingredients for Mexican sweet bread spread out on the table. Luke’s looking so intently at a cookbook that he doesn’t notice Tori enter the kitchen.

She wraps her arms around his waist and presses her nose into his back, inhaling his comforting scent before pulling back and resting her cheek against his spine. Luke rests his hands on hers.

“I wanted this to be a surprise.” She can hear the pout in his voice and giggles.

“Why are you making bread at three in the morning, Sticky Fingers?” she asks.

Luke sighs and turns to face her. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

Tori keeps her arms wrapped around his waist, resting her chin against his chest so she can look up at him.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Luke presses his lips together, his eyes narrowing, but he says nothing. They’ve had the same conversation a million times before. When she woke up from that hellhound attack, Luke was there, wanting to apologize as soon as possible. She had remembered him and what he’d done, and from then on, his new nickname was Sticky Fingers.

That was also the day he came up with her nickname.

“What are you doing up, SweeTart?”

Tori groans and presses her forehead against his chest, hiding her face. “I told you, it was a phase!”

The bag hadn’t just been filled with bread, it’d also been filled with boxes of SweeTarts. A lot of them.

Luke chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair. He knows she’s joking. Much like how he jokes about his nickname.

“Go back to bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll bring you some warm milk.”

Tori is silent for a while before mumbling, “With honey.”

“Of course.”

Sighing, Tori finally lets go of Luke and pulls back. They lean in for a kiss before Tori shuffles back into the bedroom as Luke pulls out a small pan to heat the milk and mix the honey.

And as that’s heating up, he turns back to the bread. It was for their anniversary--not when they’d officially decided to go steady, but the day that he’d stolen bread from her and she’d stolen his heart.

blegh, i definitely changed tenses bc the way i write hcs and the way i write-write are two completely different styles and tenses, but i wrote the drabble immediately after i wrote the hcs and i’m tired, so switching back was a challenge. one i did not win this time around

it’s also a lil rough around the edges, but this was just a fun little, impulsive thing i wanted to do. i love me some fluff b/t my bbys, and i’m not...too terribly busy??? quite yet

so i figured this was a good opportunity to unwind a lil bit and write some fun stuff involving my two faves

i know you probs don’t even remember sending this in, but thanks anyway for sending this! i had a lot of fun with it ^_^

[robronsecretvalentine]

For @aarondingel from your secret Valentine!

“He hates weddings, the wedding of an ex especially. Family is fine, that’s always fun, especially his family because no one knows how to party quite like the Dingles.”

Or, if you prefer, the vaguest Four Weddings and a Funeral AU that nobody asked for.

“Fuck.” He’s late, had overslept and now he was out of breath from rushing. Always a good look. He didn’t even know why he’d agreed to go in the first place. He hates weddings, the wedding of an ex especially. Family is fine, that’s always fun, especially his family because no one knows how to party quite like the Dingles.

The invite had come out of the blue. He and Ed had kept in touch on Facebook and he knew that he played for team near Harrogate now, but they hadn’t spoken since he’d left France. Then the invite had turned up.

He opens the door to the function room in the hotel, wincing as he catches his foot on it making everyone look round at the idiot who’s late. He slips into a seat at the back, keeping his head down, can feel his cheeks heating up. He doesn’t take a single word of the ceremony in and as soon as it’s done, he slips back out of the room, more than ready to get to the reception and have a drink.

He’s here on his own, which means he’ll stick out like a sore thumb. His Mum had suggested he invite Finn and he’d actually laughed in her face. She just didn’t understand that it had been one night when he was worse for wear and just out of prison. Finn got it and they were friends now but the hopeful look on her face every time the two of them met for a drink was beginning to get on his nerves. Then again most things did these days. He’d felt stuck in a rut ever since he’d come back from France.

Then he’d had Victoria in his ear telling him that weddings were good places to find the love of your life. Looking around at the guests milling about while everyone waited for the happy couple to arrive he couldn’t help but snort at himself, the place was full of couples. He was more likely to find someone on a night out with Pearl than he was here.

He turned back to face the bar, hoping another drink would make things more bearable, just about to give his order when he felt someone crash into his side.

“Oi, watch what you’re doing.”

“Sorry.” He just shook his head, not even looking over at whoever it was, signalling at the barman once more. “Let me get that.” Finally he looks over at the man beside him. He hadn’t seen him at the church, he would surely have noticed.

“Cheers. Pint please. I’m Aaron, by the way.”

“Robert. You look how I feel. Weddings not your thing?” He had to raise his voice, the cheesy pop music suddenly increasing in volume and Aaron can’t help notice just how close he is, mouth next to his ear, drying up the words in his throat. He settles for shaking his head. “Christ, is he trying to blow out everyone’s ear drums? You want to head outside for some air?”

The fresh cool air feels good after the stuffiness of the hotel bar and the pair of them perch on a wall overlooking the gardens. It’s still light enough that he can see the blue of his eyes, the freckles dotted over his face, and the light is catching his blonde hair. It’s been a while since he felt like this about someone he’s just met and then he shakes himself.

“How do you know ‘em then?”

“Used to work with Michael before I moved to London. Somehow we stayed in touch. What about you?”

“Ed’s my ex. Met him when the team bus broke down and he came into my Uncle’s garage.” Calm down Aaron, he doesn’t want your life story, he chided himself.

“Never met him before they seem good together. Mechanic, eh? I used to be a mechanic, not a good one mind. Probably where my love of cars comes from though.”

“Oh yeah? What do you drive then?”

“Audi R8.” Aaron couldn’t stop the low whistle that escaped at that. “You want to see?” He nodded and let himself follow Robert towards the car park. He had that feeling, fervently hoping he wasn’t wrong.

“You got anywhere to be?” It’s out of the blue and it isn’t, he’s seen Robert looking as he’d took a good look at the car.

“No. You?” He shook his head.

“Whatever will we do?”

*****

When he woke the next morning it was still dark, Robert snoring behind him. He let himself luxuriate in sharing a bed with someone for a little while before quietly getting up and taking his clothes into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror, the harsh light hurting his eyes.

It was one night, Robert had made that clear, it couldn’t be any more than that. He knew that. They were too different. He was a mechanic in a tiny village garage, a job he got because he’s family, and Robert, well he’s obviously loaded and there was the fact he lived in London. Aaron didn’t know much about fashion but he knew expensive suits, and that car cost a fortune.

No it was best he left, let it be just what it was.

Of course it didn’t work out that way. When he opened the door to make his departure, he found Robert staring back at him, head resting on his arms, lounging in bed, grin lighting up his face.

“You running out on me?”

“Yeah, uh, gotta get back. Work.”

“It’s Sunday.” He sighed and sat up letting the sheet fall to his waist. “Right, give us your phone.”

“What for? One night you said. I got the message.”

“Never know when I might need a good mechanic.” He shook his head at the smug grin and passed over his phone. “There. Maybe see you around then.”

“Maybe you will.”

He spent the journey home convincing himself that it was just a line, didn’t mean anything, probably wasn’t even the right number. A part of him couldn’t help  but hope.

*****

Fucking Robert. He’d just got to the point where he could stop replaying that night over in his head when his phone lit up a week or so later with a message.

*Up on business. Fancy meeting up?*

*I’m working.*

*All night? ;)*

He left it a while before answering, imagining Robert growing ever more impatient. When he signed off the paperwork on the car he’d been fixing he picks his phone back up, ignoring Dan’s knowing look.

*Fine. I finish at 5.*

*Don’t sound too excited will you? I’ve got a hotel. Bardon Park in Hotten. I’ll be there about 7.*

Well that was his workday finished. He couldn’t concentrate worth a damn and in the end Cain sent him home with a few choice words. He was glad, it gave him plenty of time to get ready.

He so nearly got out the door without an interrogation from his Mum. At this point he was pretty sure she had spy cameras in the hallway because she was there right as his foot hit the bottom step.

“Cain said he sent you home because you were as useful as a chocolate spanner, kept texting he said. Who is he?”

“No one you know. I’m late.” He tried to get past, but she was too good, knew him too well and pressed a hand to his chest stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m your Mum, I care about you.”

“Yeah I know you do. I don’t ask you about you and Paddy though do I?” He never did, would rather poke his own eyes out than even think about it. “I’m just getting a drink with a mate, nothing for you to get excited about.”

“Mmm, and this drink, going to take all night?” She nodded at the rucksack slung over his shoulder.

“Goodnight Mother.”

All the way to the hotel he’s replaying it again.He couldn’t get the man out of his head, the feel of his hands running across his body, how his lips felt against his own. He’d never admit it but he’d been hoping he’d hear from him again no matter how many times he convinced himself it was one night. He was right about him being loaded though, he thought as he drew up to the hotel. It was way out of his league and he was glad he’d worn his suit.

*****

“Now aren’t you glad you sacked off work?” He let out a laugh, leaning back against the extremely comfortable pillows.

“Think a lot of yourself, don’t ya?”

“I do as it happens.” He turns on his side, resting his head on his arm. “So, what do you do when you’re not slaving away over an engine?”

“Not much. I live in a tiny village. Not much on offer. Still getting used to being home.” He was surprised at himself, he never did this, always avoided awkward small talk, so why did he feel he could tell him anything?

“Oh yeah? From anywhere good?”

“France. Moved there with Ed. I…well s’pose it don’t matter now…I took the blame for something and skipped bail. At the time it was better than staying.” He catches Robert’s frown and wants to kick himself. “I’m not some criminal…it was my best mate, wanted to protect him, needed to know I could protect someone.”

“I wasn’t thinking that. Must be some mate.”

“He is. So, come on, what about you?”

“Well nothing as exciting as that. Left home at nineteen, got myself on the bottom rung of the ladder at this agricultural machinery business and worked my way up.” He rolled closer, hands running down Aaron’s side to clutch at his hip. “So, you want to keep talking?” He barely had time to shake his head before Robert was kissing him.

They did talk more though, when they were both exhausted and he was held tight in Robert’s arms. Robert’s voice was quiet as he told him about being sent away. It was getting light when he was the one faltering over his words. He’d seen Robert looking, knew he’d guessed and felt his fingers graze lightly over them by accident. So he told him, expecting pity maybe, or disgust. Again Robert surprised him, just holding him tighter, pressing kisses into his hair. He thinks they slept, must have. When he comes to, the sun’s streaming in and Robert’s sat up, cup of coffee in hand.

“Morning.”

“Mmm.” He’s shy suddenly, can’t believe he told him all he did. “Sorry…for, you know. I kind of unloaded on you last night. Bit heavy weren’t it?”

“Aaron.” He’s kneeling up beside him now and he feels his breath stutter as he looks up at him. “None of that matters to me, you know. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Not like it’s anything serious anyway.”

“About that.” His voice sounds off, and Aaron’s self preservation kicks in and he’s pulling away, trying to get up. “Will you listen before you run?”

“We both know what this is. You live hours away so…”

“You’re alright with that?” He nods, tells himself he is. He doesn’t need serious right now, and well who would turn down someone like Robert. “I…I’m back up here in a few weeks if you…”

“Wow. I’m overwhelmed. Think I’m just going to hang around waiting for you to turn up then do you?” He can’t help teasing, poking lightly at his chest, wanting to lighten the atmosphere.

“Well I wouldn’t have put it quite like that…but…look it can’t be more, not at the moment, but I like you.”

“Alright, no need to get soppy.” He can’t resist one more kiss though, knows he’ll have to leave soon or he’ll get hell from Cain. “So, do you get breakfast in a fancy place like this or what?”

*****

So they carry on. Somehow Robert manages to get away from London a few times a month, some of their best customers are in the north he says. Aaron doesn’t question it, neither does he take any notice of the niggle in the back of his brain because for the first time he feels something like happiness and well, he’s going to make the most of it.

It’s the end of January when he starts to let those doubts come, when he hasn’t heard from Robert in weeks. He’d not seen him since before Christmas, a holiday booked ages ago he’d said, but they had chatted for hours on the phone. Then the calls and the texts stopped.

He’s in the pub idly considering texting Robert one more time when Vic sidles up to him, a pleading look on her face, obviously wanting a favour.

“Why me? You know I hate weddings!” He shakes his head at her when she finally comes out with what she wants, company for her brother’s wedding. He’s heard all about him, mostly from his Mum, mostly bad things and the last thing he wants is to go to some stranger’s wedding. “I thought you said he lived down south anyway. Why’s he getting married up here?”

“It’s the hotel where Chrissie’s parents met or something…whatever. Please, Aaron. I don’t want to go on my own and Adam can’t get back from Holly’s for another couple of weeks.”

“Why can’t you take Finn?”

“He’s busy. Come on, if I know my brother it’ll be right fancy.” Well she was probably right about that going on what he’s heard, and let’s face it he could never say no to her when her mind was set on something.

“Fine. You owe me.”

That’s how he ends up on the side of the road bent over the engine of his car, Vic shouting at him from inside. Of course his car chose today to break down, when he’s in his best suit and Vic’s stubbornly sitting in the passenger seat because it’s raining and it’ll ruin her dress. He’s soaked through by the time he manages to find the loose connection.

“Well we’re going to look a right pair turning up like this.”

“I didn’t know it was going to break down did I?” He doesn’t want to be here, had tried to get out of it numerous times, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

They’re late, of course, and by the time they take their seats, and even he can’t deny how good it looks, and how expensive. Vic’s nearly in tears because it’s been years since she’s seen him and she’s thinking about her Mum and Dad. He sighs good naturedly and puts an arm around her.

Not minutes later he’s wishing she would do the same for him because he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Robert, walking down the aisle towards him, his new bride beside him. Of course he’d known Vic’s brother was called Robert, but he’d not even considered that they might be the same person. Why would he? He ducks his head so that he doesn’t see, and before long Vic is ushering him through to the enormous marquee.

He should have known, should have questioned why Robert would keep coming so far from home, because it’s not like he was anything special after all. Now he just feels stupid and he wants to go home. He won’t do it to Vic, knows how much she’s missed her brother and resigns himself to sticking it out.

He’s clutching a glass of champagne that had been thrust into his hand despite his protests, when they make their grand entrance. He can’t deny that Robert looks good, they make the perfect couple he thinks bitterly.

It’s when they’re making the rounds of the room that they finally come face to face, and this time Aaron looks him straight in the eye, enjoying the discomfort, the shock that flits across his face. He can’t say anything because Vic is right there, not to mention his wife and Aaron can’t help the feeling of satisfaction. Then they’re gone and Vic is gushing about her new sister-in-law and he suddenly wants to find the bar, but he can’t even indulge because he’s got to drive.

They’re on the same table for dinner, Vic’s family of course, and thanks to that he enjoys the meal more than he thought he would, maybe it’s because he can sense Robert’s unease at seeing him. Later when he’s outside escaping Vic’s attempts to get him to dance he feels a hand on his elbow and there’s Robert.

“What are you doing here?” He’s hissing and angry like a cat.

“Shocked are we?”

“I don’t even…How do you know Vic?”

“I’m one of her best mates, which you’d know if you’d bothered getting in touch with her in the past decade!”

“You don’t know anything about my family!”

“Certainly not from you, judging by today! Forget to mention your fiance did you? Slipped your mind? Just go away Robert. When today is over you can go on with your life and I’ll go on with mine. At least I know why you stopped calling. Find out did she? Get a little close?”

That seems to get a reaction and he grabs Aaron’s arm, pulling him round the corner out of sight and then his mouth is on Aaron’s and it takes all his willpower to push his hands against his chest to stop him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t. It’s not like that. You were just…a last bit of fun, that’s all it was ever meant to be.” He’s not staying to listen to this, walks away, only for Robert to stop him. “Wait…I’ve spent months trying to get you out of my head, but you’re always there.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Go back to your wife, Robert.”

“I thought if I stopped calling, texting that I could forget you, but there was always something…I should have told you. I…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it’s too late now. Just go. Leave it as what it was. A fling. It’s over now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. We could carry on, it doesn’t change anything.” Aaron wants to laugh at the pleading look on his face. He’s got everything and yet still he wants more.

“You haven’t even been married five hours and you’re already looking elsewhere. Why exactly should I put up with that?”

“Because we’re good together.”

“I thought so too but you told me over and over that it was nothing, just a distraction. So what’s changed now that you’re married?”

“Aaron, please just listen.”

“Does she know? Have you got someone different in towns all over the country?” He doesn’t even let Robert protest, just starts walking away. He feels foolish, had known what this was all along, but the longer it went on the more his feelings had grown.

“Aaron wait!” He’s grabbing his arm, desperation in his voice. “There’s no one else. I told you, it was more than just sex.”

“Obviously not if you’re still with her.”

“Come on, Aaron. I’m going to be up here on business a lot more, Lawrence, Chrissie’s Dad wants to expand. We, er, might be moving up here permanently. It’d be easier, I could see you more often.” For a second he thinks about it, how good it could be, while they were alone, but the other times would be too hard, too lonely.

“You just want me on tap for when you’re bored. Glad to know how highly I rate for you. I won’t say this again, go to hell Robert!” This time he did walk away, leaving Robert staring after him.

He stays out of his way the rest of the night and if Vic notices anything out of the ordinary she doesn’t mention it. He’d wanted to leave straight away but whatever he thinks Robert’s her brother and she deserves to enjoy whatever time they have together. He’s glad though when she finally says she’s ready to leave. He’s more than ready to go and never look back.

*****

Life goes on they say and he doesn’t complain when Adam drags him out on a night in Hotten even though he’s not in the mood. It’s away from the village and his Mum’s concerned gaze.

Robert texts a few times and Aaron couldn’t help but feel sorry for Chrissie. She’d seemed nice and didn’t deserve her husband texting someone else while on their honeymoon. He gets the message in the end, when Aaron ignores him because they stop after a few days. Aaron absolutely does not take any notice of the photos that Vic keeps showing him from Robert’s Facebook, nor does he eavesdrop when she and Diane are chatting in the backroom and he hears Robert’s name.

He’s over him. It was nothing after all, wasn’t it?

*****

He thinks he’s fine, and life in the village carries on as it always does, the place full of excitement at the prospect of a wedding. If he’s honest though, he’d prefer it if he never attended another wedding in his life.

“Aaron!” He grimaces as he hears his Mum bellow up the stairs. He can’t get a minutes peace, the place is full of noise and people getting ready for Andy and Katie’s wedding tomorrow and he’s doing all he can to keep out of getting roped in to helping.

“What?”

“I need some crates bringing up from the cellar.”

“What’s with all the fuss?” He asks her as they pass in the cellar. “Diane’s been flapping all day and Vic nearly took my head off earlier.”

“The prodigal son is coming home. Robert. Vic’s doing, wants them all to make peace. Hasn’t been seen back here for years and now they’re rolling out the red carpet for him. Arriving tonight apparently. Could be fireworks at the party. Crates Aaron!” He shakes himself from his stupor and heads down to the cellar.

Of course, of course he’s coming back just when Aaron had started to think he was over him, could move on and forget. He can’t even get out of the village for the weekend, avoid him altogether, he’s been roped into being one of Andy’s ushers. Goodness knows why they need them in the tiny church but what Katie wants, she gets.

He’s on edge all night, jumping every time the door opens and Adam is looking at him weird, like he knows something is up. Vic is muttering about Robert being late and Andy is scowling every time his name is mentioned.

It’s nearly nine when he arrives and he will deny until his dying day that his heart leapt when he saw him again, mood plummeting seconds later when Chrissie follows him through the door. What did you expect, he chides himself, heading up to the bar for another drink, not sticking around for a family reunion.

He stays at the bar, making conversation with Paddy, avoiding getting back to the table however he can. Everyone is expecting something to kick off but they’re all on good behaviour so the pub starts to empty when they’re denied their entertainment. He takes his chance to escape up to his room unnoticed.

He gets through the next morning on little to no sleep. Thankfully he doesn’t see any of the Sugdens, stays in his room, out of the way until he’s needed at the church. When he’s there, he does his job, even when it falls to him to show Chrissie and Robert to their seats. He stoically ignores Robert’s attempts to make eye contact.

Everything goes off without a hitch and before he knows it Andy and Katie are walking back down the aisle. He’s done his duty, now he can have a drink, or two.

He’s getting some air, wandering around the village when he hears shouting. He’s by the shop when he sees Robert burst out of the pub, followed by an angry Chrissie. He can’t hear what they’re saying but it’s pretty clear they’re not happy. A few seconds later he watches as Chrissie walks off towards the B&B, heels clicking loudly on the road, and Robert’s left standing there. He’s not quick enough to stay out of sight and he knows Robert’s seen him.

He doesn’t stay, because he can’t avoid him now he knows, but anyone can see them here. He ends up at the pavilion, no one ever comes out there at night. He’s sat on the steps waiting before Robert gets to him and he watches as he climbs up the hill.

“Can’t believe this place is still standing. Got up to some stuff here in my time.”

“Well it is. Why did you come here?”

“It’s my brother’s wedding, and about time I visited my family.” He drops down onto the steps nudging Aaron along and he can’t help but notice their thighs are touching, making it difficult to concentrate.

“Don’t give me that. You haven’t bothered about them before and I bet if I hadn’t ignored your texts you wouldn’t have even now.”

“That’s not fair. You know I missed them. Why I hadn’t come home before now. Do you have any idea how it felt coming back?”

“So I never crossed your mind?” He can’t look at him, focuses on the village in the distance instead. “How I’d feel seeing you, with her?”

“I didn’t say that. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you!”

“Don’t.” He can feel it, that wall he’s built up, it’s crumbling piece by piece.

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“So much so that you brought your wife with you, just in case.”

“I could hardly tell her she couldn’t come. She wanted to meet everyone.” He sighs and looks down at his feet. “Married life isn’t what I thought it would be.”

“Clipped your wings has it?”

“I told you, you were the only person who…oh what’s the point.” He gets up, shoving his hands in his pockets and shivers. “You should probably know, we’re moving into Home Farm soon. Her Dad used to live round here, so we’ll likely be running to each other. That gonna be ok?” Aaron can hear it, the change in tone, harsh, and not anything like the Robert he knows.

“I’m sure I’ll cope.”

“Yeah, well see you around, Aaron.” He has no idea what makes him do it, he’d blame alcohol but he’s not had all that much. He gets up and grabs Robert’s shoulder.

“You meant something to me too. You know that, don’t you?” He doesn’t answer, just nods and Aaron can’t be sure but he thinks he sees a tear, tells himself he’s imagining it. “Night Robert.” He reaches up, presses a kiss to his cheek and makes himself walk away.

*****

He expects it to be difficult, seeing Robert around the village, and it is at first. He starts avoiding the pub when he’s in, staying in the backroom ignoring the comments it brings. It’ll get easier, he tells himself, in the end. The only consolation if there is one, is that Robert looks just as miserable.

They don’t talk bar the odd word if they pass in the cafe, and he misses him. It might only have been a few days all tolled but he misses his smile, his voice, everything. He finds himself hovering his finger over the call button on his phone more times than he wants to mention but he always stops himself. Nothing’s changed, Robert’s still married, that’s all there is to it.

They manage to avoid being alone until Robert brings his car into the garage a month or so later and Aaron’s minding the shop on his own.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Feels like something’s slipping. I’d do it but…well I was never really that good.” Aaron can’t help but be distracted by how good he looks in the blue shirt he’s wearing under his leather jacket.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll look. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

“I’ll wait.” When he looks up from the paperwork he’s doing, Robert’s lounging in Cain’s desk chair, broad grin in place. “Hardly worth me going home if it’s something simple.”

“Robert, don’t…” He can’t do this.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“And you’re surprised about that are you? I mean it Robert, don’t, or I’m going home and you can wait for Cain to fix your car. Given what he says about you I doubt it’ll be fast or cheap.”

All of a sudden, Robert’s backing him up against the car he’s meant to be finishing. “There’s nothing wrong with the car. I just needed to see you, talk to you…but not here. Come for a drive with me and after that I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.”

What possesses him he doesn’t know but he shucks off his overalls, texting Cain to say he’s ill and locks the door, all the while ignoring Robert’s smirk until they’re speeding out of the village.

“So, come on then, what’s so important that you had to drag me from work?”

“There wasn’t really that much dragging involved.” He doesn’t say any more until they’re parked in a layby in the middle of nowhere.

“Talk Robert. I’m fast running out of patience.”

“Are you happy, Aaron?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I miss you and…I need to know I’m doing the right thing.” His knuckles are white he’s gripping the steering wheel that tightly.

“You’re not making any sense. You’re married. That’s it. I told you, I’m not going to be some bit on the side, and if that’s all you’re here for, I’m going home.” He’s got the car door open before Robert stops him. “Let go of me, Robert. You made your choice!”

“What if I made the wrong one?” He’s shouting, desperate, clutching onto Aaron’s arm but he’s done listening and he wrenches himself away.

“You should have thought of that before you said I do.” He strides away not looking back, ignoring Robert shouting his name.

*****

This time he really does push him to the back of his mind, takes himself off into Hotten the next few nights, away from the village and the possibility of running into him. He’s not looking for anything except a bit of peace.

One morning he wakes up to shouting from downstairs, his head pounding. Rolling over to go back to sleep is pointless against the noise so he stumbles his way downstairs and finds the backroom full of his Mum, Diane, Vic and Adam.

“It’s Robert, pet. Nothing for you to worry about.” She’s gone before he can answer, Vic and Adam following in her wake. He can do nothing but look to his Mum for an explanation.

“Turns out he hasn’t changed all that much. Upped and left his wife, and them only married a few months.” He sinks onto the sofa, trying to school his face so she doesn’t suspect anything but his mind is whirling.

“What, er…what happened?”

“There’s someone else, of course. He says it’s over but all that time before their wedding he was carrying on. Always been the same that one.”

“Mum!”

“It’s the truth! He rang Vic this morning, told her everything. He’s holed up in some hotel, can’t even face the music in person. That’s not even the best bit. Apparently it was some bloke he was seeing.” She moves into the kitchen having doled out the gossip and all he can do is sit there stunned.

He takes his chance and slips back up the stairs. When he checks his phone he finds numerous missed calls and texts and he can’t decide what to do. He waits, takes a shower before he calls him back, making sure the door to his room is locked.

“Aaron? Thank God!”

“So you’ve had a day?” Robert breathes out a laugh. “Where are you?”

“That hotel, the first one we…Can I…I need to see you.”

“Give me an hour.” He gets dressed in record time, slipping out of the back door of the pub before anyone sees him. He’s packed a bag, will text his Mum and Cain later when he knows what’s what. Maybe he’s being stupidly optimistic that Robert will want him to stay, guesses he’ll find out.

He barely has time to think before he’s pulling into a parking space and his heart is thumping as he walks up the stairs to the room. He just stares at him when he opens the door. He looks awful, shadows under his eyes, hair all over the place, not at all like his usual put together self.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Said I would, didn’t I?” He nudges him back so he can close the door and then Robert’s clinging to him. “Hey, what’s this?”

“I couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t stop thinking about you, wondering if things were different, could we be happy. Then I realised I wanted to try, wanted to be with you.”

“You…you’ve just done this because I knocked you back. That’s all, you’ll change your mind, regret it or something soon enough.” He would because why would he choose the local greasemonkey who still lived with his Mum, when he could have Chrissie, the fancy house, the money. No he wouldn’t give up that lifestyle for him.

“I won’t. Aaron, I came out to my family, does that tell you how serious I am?” He’s still not convinced but he nods, leads him to sit on their hands clasped together.

“How did Chrissie take it?”

“I got a hell of a slap. I mean I deserve it but…then when I told Vic, she yelled at me too. I think that hurt more than anything.” He reaches up to stroke his cheek, the barest of red marks still there.

“That’s just Vic, she’ll come round. What about Diane?”

“Got the ‘your Dad would be so disappointed in you’ speech from her.” That made Aaron wrap his arms around him. He knows how he feels about Jack, just another of their late night conversations where he told him what happened. “She was nice as well…you know, when I told her everything, but…”

There’s not a lot he can say so he doesn’t, he just keeps hold of him lets him talk, presses kisses to his temple until he’s done.

“So what now?” They’re in bed and it’s dark outside. They’ve been talking for hours, about everything but what needs to be said.

“I, er, called my solicitor when I got here.” He looks over, senses something and there’s a knot forming in his stomach. “We have to be married a year before we can file for divorce. He suggested it would be easier if there was no one else involved, would be over a lot quicker.”

“What?”

“Chrissie thinks it’s over. If she found out, she’d fight me, and the last thing I want is to drag you into this.”

“So what, I can’t see you for…three months?” It’s not that long, but now they’re so close he doesn’t know how to feel.

“Just under. If she even suspects…it’s not about the money or anything, it’s just the best way. We’ll have time though, when it’s over, all the time we want, yeah? I love you, Aaron, I thought you knew that.”

“I do…of course I do. I…love you too. It’s just, the thought of not seeing you now that I can whenever I want.”

“I know, but we’ll get through it. It’s not that long.”

He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, away from Robert. “Guess I should go then.”

“No…stay tonight, please. No one knows where I am. I…don’t want to be alone, not right now.” He sighs, never has been able to resist him, and gets back into bed. They’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.

*****

He didn’t think it would be that difficult, staying away. After all, they’d been apart pretty much the whole time but it was torture, knowing that Robert wanted him and not being able to do anything about it. They still called each other and Robert had found himself a flat in Leeds, wanting to stay away from the village but he wouldn’t budge on letting Aaron go round. He understood, he really did but the days were going so slowly.

As always he seems to find out the news after everyone else when he walks into the pub a few weeks later, long faces everywhere and none of the usual noise, just murmured conversations.

“What’s up?” He asks his Mum as she pulls his pint.

“Hiya love. It’s that Lawrence, you know from Home Farm. Dead. Heart attack apparently.”

He nods, not really that interested, the man hadn’t spent that much time in the village in the end, but his mind immediately went to Robert, whether he knew, resolving to call him once he’d finished his pint.

He goes to the funeral, because his Mum is nosy and won’t go alone. The last thing he wants is to be anywhere near it, and he’s suffering having gone out with Adam the night before.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. Running back to the money, looks like.” He looks up from the floor, trying to ignore his pounding head. That profile is unforgettable. Robert. Arm in arm with Chrissie.

“I…I need to go Mum.” He has to, can’t stay here, can’t watch this.

“What? Aaron you can’t just walk out of a funeral.” She’s hissing at him but he’s already moving, not listening. He feels sick. Why did he trust him, why did he ever believe he wanted him.

He makes it outside, ignoring the funny looks he gets and all but runs to the pub, pulling at his tie. It’s not until he’s in his room that he lets out the tears that are burning his eyes, tears of anger and he doesn’t know what else. His phone lights up and he’s tempted to ignore it, but he doesn’t. He’d left it behind the night before and had spent the night on Adam’s sofa, hadn’t had chance to check it when he got back. It’s full of messages from Robert.

*I need to see you.*

*Aaron, call me!*

They were all the same, obviously him panicking, trying to tell him, more excuses. He deletes them all, throws the phone onto the side and collapses onto the bed. He doesn’t know how long he lays there but it’s darker when he sits up hearing a quiet knock on his door before it swings open revealing Robert. He hates how he automatically feels his heart skip at the sight of him, how he notices that he looks good in his suit.

“I don’t want to hear it, Robert.”

“You didn’t answer my texts.”

“Forgot my phone. Thought we shouldn’t be seen together?”

“Just hear me out.”

“No, because it’ll be the same lies as before. You’ve obviously come to your senses, realised it’s her you want, not me. I don’t blame you, compared to her what can I give you?”

“No that’s not it!” Aaron shakes his head, tries pushing Robert from the room but he won’t budge. “Her father died! She asked me to. Her sister didn’t come home and it was just her and Lachlan, she called and she shouldn’t have been on her own…you know I’m trying to keep her onside… For us Aaron, so we can be together! I told you!”

“When did you know?” Robert looks blank. “That you were going to be with her today. When did you know?”

“Uh…a few days ago. Look…”

“No you look. You could have called me any time, explained, asked if I minded or whatever. But no, you leave it until first thing this morning. What was it, forgot you’d need to get me onside again?”

“No! I supposed I knew you’d react like this. Nothing’s changed. I told you how I feel!”

“You’ve told me a lot of things. Maybe you could give me a clue which ones to believe? Should I start with ‘you mean something to me’, ‘I’ve left her’, or my favourite ‘I love you Aaron’? Go to hell Robert!”

“Aaron please! Come to mine tomorrow, we can talk. You know how I feel.”

“I thought I did. Go back to your perfect little life and leave me alone.” Finally he pushes him from the room and slams the door in his face, throwing himself back down on the bed. He was stupid to think he could have what he wanted, what might make him happy. That didn’t happen to him, he should just accept it.

Robert doesn’t call again, he half expects him to, but his phone stays silent. He tells himself that he’s not disappointed, that it’s for the best, but it hurts all the same.

*****

It’s Adam and Victoria who manage to drag him out of his misery, announcing they’ve set a date for their wedding in the pub on her birthday, Adam asking him to be best man.

It’s later when his heart sinks because of course Robert will be there, and he doesn’t know if he can face seeing him, probably with Chrissie back on his arm. He leaves them celebrating, slips out of the pub, perching on one of the pub tables out front, bottle in hand. He doesn’t know how he’s got through the past month. He knows his Mum has noticed, keeps asking what’s wrong, even getting Paddy and Cain to try and talk to him. He knows it’s only a matter of time before they crack through the wall he’s put up.

“What’s the matter with you face ache? It’s your round!” He can’t help smiling because it’s Adam. “You’re meant to be helping me get drunk.”

“That’s the stag night, idiot.”

“Nah, come on, there’s something goin’ on.” He crashes into him as he climbs up beside him, laughing his head off.

“Just weddings ain’t it.”

“Tell me. I know you remember.” He picks at the label on the beer bottle, wondering what to say. He supposes it doesn’t matter, it’s got to be just days until Robert’s divorce comes through if it’s still even happening, and why should he care anymore. Except he does. Still Adam won’t spill, he trusts him.

“Met a bloke. When I went to Ed’s wedding.”

“Yes lad! So why does that have you moping out here?”

“Get stuffed, am I!”

He tells him though, about the hotels, finding out he was married, everything. Except who he is.

“He must be special, all this time…you sure it’s a no go?”

“Not if I can’t trust him.” He lets out a breath. “It’s Robert.”

“Huh, what is?”

“How much have you had? The bloke. It’s Robert. Your future brother-in-law.”

“No way!” He cackles with laughter and Aaron shoves at his shoulder to shut him up.

“Alright, don’t overdo it. You can’t say anything, not even to Vic.”

“Yeah, yeah. So what are you going to do? I know you, you wouldn’t be this bothered if you didn’t still feel something.” Of course he does, but that’s not the point.

“Never mind that, let’s get you married first shall we?”

*****

He hates weddings. Always something to go wrong. This time it’s the lack of flowers. He’s not sure how he gets roped into sorting it out, not entirely sure why it’s so important, but he’s the best man and everyone else is trying calm Vic down so it’s fallen to him to try and sort it out.

“Crisis over.” He strides back into the church. They were delivered to the farm. Pete’s bringing them down.” There’s not a big congregation, just Vic’s family, Moira, Cain and his Mum and Paddy. “Vic? It’s fine.”  He looks to Adam for help when she won’t stop crying.

“Robert’s not coming.” He whispers, and Aaron can’t deny the disappointment that runs through him. He’s done his best to put him out of his mind but he’s still there, can’t forget about him. “He rang the other night but she’d convinced herself he’d turn up anyway.”

“Never was reliable, was he?”

The wedding goes without any more hitches. Halfway through he hears the church door open and looks round, feels his heart skip. Robert’s there, slipping into a seat at the back. Vic’s all smiles again. He can’t stop himself from glancing over. He looks good, tanned he notices and then scoffs to himself. It’s all round the village that Chrissie had taken herself and Lachlan off abroad, looks like it was with Robert.

He tries to concentrate, hands over the rings when he’s supposed to. When they’re done signing the register he looks back round to find an empty seat.

“He just left.” Vic’s hugging him and whispering in his ear. “You can still catch him.”

“What?”

“He told me everything. I only kept quiet because he told me to.”

“There’s no point Vic, he’s back with her.”

“Chrissie? No he’s not Aaron. I promise.” He’s misheard, has to have done. He was so sure. “Vic…do you mind?”

“Go get him.”

He does, almost shoving Andy out of the way as he goes, ignoring his Mum’s questions. He runs shoes loud on the floor. It’s pouring with rain and he’s soaked within seconds of getting outside the church. He’s sure it’s pointless and when Robert’s nowhere in sight he’s sure he’s missed his chance. Maybe though, just maybe. He runs, doesn’t stop until he’s in sight of the pavilion and there he is, sitting up on the steps trying to stay dry. He hasn’t seen Aaron and before he can reach him he’s getting up, starting to walk away.

“Robert!” He can’t let him go again, risk never seeing him again. He stops but he doesn’t look his way so he runs up the hill until he’s standing right in front of him. “Why did you leave?”

“I…couldn’t face you ignoring me I suppose. I’m sorry, about the funeral, about everything.”

“I don’t care. Are you…it’s definitely over?” Robert just smiles and pulls a letter out of his pocket, hands it to him. “What’s this?”

“Decree absolute. Came through yesterday. It’s what made me come today…wanted to show you, but in the end I couldn’t face it.”

“It’s really over?” He feels like an idiot to keep asking but he has to be sure.

“I haven’t seen her since the funeral. Have you…?” He looks nervous and it makes Aaron smile.

“No, there’s no one.” He laughs. “I thought, well, she’s been off somewhere. I thought, you’re all tanned and…”

“I went to visit my Gran in Spain, I swear.”

“I believe you.”

“Do you think that maybe I could take you out? Could we try again? Properly, I mean, no hiding.”

“On one condition. You come back to your sister’s wedding reception with me.” He smiling and then Robert’s kissing him, hands running through his wet hair and everything’s right suddenly.

*****

Aaron’s always hated weddings, had never even given a thought to what his own might be like. Not until Robert had proposed, on Valentine’s Day of course, like some romantic hero, on the steps of the cricket pavilion. It had almost become their place, where they could go when they wanted to just be alone.

They didn’t want fancy, the big venue, the flowers and all that. If they could have it would have just been the two of them. They were the only ones who needed to hear the words. That was never likely once his Mum got wind of it. The end result was a quiet ceremony, just close family, followed by the traditional Dingle party.

It was all going to plan, except Robert was late. Aaron wasn’t worried, not really, but there was a ball of dread growing in his stomach as every minute ticked by.

“I’m here! Sorry.” He let out a sigh at the sight of him, his mouth going dry as he took in the suit he was dressed in. “Hi.”

“Don’t ‘hi’ me. You’re late.” Robert’s grinning at him like a kid with a secret and it does the trick, calms him down.

“Just something I had to do. I’ll tell you later.” He whispered as the registrar came to greet them.

It’s a blur. If you asked him he couldn’t tell you what either of them said, the party or anything. Nothing until Robert had grabbed his hand and led him from the pub, not stopping until they were at the pavilion.

“What’s going on?”

“The reason I was late. You said you didn’t want to move to Leeds, to my flat…and look, I like your family, Aaron, but there’s no way I can share the pub with them.” Aaron laughed. Ever since Charity had taken over Diane’s share she and Robert had been trading insults.

“I told you it didn’t matter, that we could move into your flat.”

“You did, but I know you, you don’t want to leave here, and Vic and Diane are here. Anyway!” He cuts of more protest with a finger to Aaron’s lips. “The reason I was late, was because I was picking up these.” He pulls an envelope from his pocket, handing it to Aaron.

“What is it?” He can’t help but eye it suspiciously.

“Open it.”

“I want you to tell me.”

“I’ve bought Mill Cottage, for us. We can rent out the second flat, and it’ll need decorating but I figured mmph…” Aaron has found the perfect way to shut him up is to kiss him. “You, er, don’t mind then?”

“It’s perfect. Can we go and look now?”

“What about the party?”

“They won’t miss us.” He takes Robert’s hand and they head back down the hill towards their new house.

Maybe weddings weren’t so bad after all.

[dablesretrospective]

2010 - Dables - Pretty Ugly

Time to get back to what I created this tumblr for, which was blogging liner notes for the CDs I have released as Dables in order. This is Pretty Ugly, my 4th album and definitely the first Dables album most people heard because shortly after it came out is when I started performing regularly. During this era, 2009-2010, I was still performing solo, but instead of just playing improvised noise or electronic music, I started playing songs more songs from my albums using a set up similar to Ween or Big Black. I played electric guitar and sang while my Tascam Portastudio was plugged straight into the PA, playing the pre-recorded bass and drum machine parts. I played my first “electric” show this way in December 2009 in Fountain Inn, SC at a house party with Coma Cinema and it went over extremely well. I played mostly songs from the “14 Songs” album, and a few from this disc.

Released on February 3 2010, this album was conceived as a concept album to mix pretty pop songs with ugly noise songs. The idea was to go back and forth, first track being a pretty pop song, the next being an experimental or weird/off-putting/ugly noise song. The cover illustrates this concept with combining the beauty of a sunflower, placed in an ugly toilet. That is also actually my real toilet, from my parent’s house, with plastic flowers inside of it. I took the picture and sent it to my friend Victoria Ferrer, who runs The Black Lodge, a subculture get together at various local clubs. She edited it for me, writing the text on it and coloring the background around the toilet black, and turning the flowers red instead of yellow, and I think she did an absolutely fabulous job and I love her for it. My friend/occasional-partner-in-crime with Slacker Pop Records Micheal Keller, of the band Satan in Bondage, helped me put together the inner artwork including the lyrics, and he paid to help me print and make over 50 physical copies, and he helped distribute it so I also owe a huge thanks to him. Listening back to this album reminds me of what was going on in my life at the time. I was working at a Kangaroo Express gas station, and came in one day to find out my store manager and good friend Russell Folk had committed suicide the night before. I was extremely shocked and upset by this and I ended up walking out on my shift, and quitting the job on the spot. It was my first day back from a two week vacation and I couldn’t handle the responsibility of having to be the one to tell customers who came into the store who were asking me, “Where’s Russell?" all day so after about an hour of my shift, I just up and left. I went home and wrote "Song For Russell”, which didn’t make it onto this disc but ended up on a future one called “Stuff Volume 2”. I spent the next two weeks frantically recording songs to help escape from the depression caused by the death of such a close friend. I had known Russell for over 2 years, and saw him about 5 times a week and we had become very close. This disc is most definitely dedicated to his memory, and I recorded it as therapy to help cope with my first experience of death. Besides my great-grandmother, who I wasn’t very close to, Russell was the first person I knew well to die. I still miss him very much, and this disc will always remind me of him. Anyways, on to the songs themselves.

‘Boredumb’ is one of the most popular Dables songs. It has been performed at every single show since that first electric show December 2009. Funny that this one is such a fan favorite because it took me less than hour to write and record it to completion. However this song is sort of a loose rip-off musically of Flies on My Dick by Ween. It has minimal guitar, slow, plodding drum machine, monotone vocals, and quirky lead guitar breakdown just like that song does. Although I like to think I did my own thing with that formula and I wouldn’t say this song an out-right rip-off, just inspired by the formula of Ween.

'Sober and Bored’ was the first track recorded for this album and the title and music itself was inspired by The Boredoms.

'Hang Around’ came out extra poppy because The Beatles remasters had just came out and I was listening to them non-stop and wanted to do a song with “doo-wahs” vocals on it. Besides a short, sloppy, semi-solo on the song “Who Are You?” from Slacker Pop, this track was the first “real” guitar solo I ever put on a song and I’m still pretty proud of it and I think I nailed it on the second take. Prior to this, I was pretty opposed to doing guitar solos.  Never performed an electric version of this song live before, but I’ve played it at acoustic shows several times.

'Live Forever’ was my attempt to emulate The Melvins, although it sounds little like them. The odd lyric “I want to lick your knees” was inspired by a porno I saw where a girl was blowing a guy and said “I wanna lick your knees” and proceeded to lick his kneecaps for a few minutes. I thought that was odd and hilarious so I put it in this song. The lyric “I want to see the end cause you know it will start again” means that if a person were to live forever, they would witness the collapse of civilizations and empires, only to see them get rebuilt and start again.

Along with a fellow local band Hollow Body, 'An Exercise in Isolation’ as well as portions of 'Boredumb’ was later put on the soundtrack to local independent film, “WTF?”, a horror/comedy film made by Firefly Ink Productions about a group of people on a road trip who’s car breaks down and the person who picks them up off the side of the road who proceeds to slaughter them. Clips of the movie are available on youtube.

'This is Nothing’ was a bit of a jab at the poor work ethics of my fellow bandmates in my side-project DAN, about how they wanted to play shows really badly, but weren’t dedicated enough to practice regularly. Needless to say, DAN broke up about 6 months after Pretty Ugly came out after only playing 3 shows together, all but 1 were a disaster. Although we eventually made up and became friends again, after another year or two we fell back into the same drama and I haven’t spoken to either of them in about 7 years now and don’t plan on it either...but if either of them happen to read this, I have no hard feelings toward Sid and Clayton (there’s been too much drama and we can’t get along with each other anymore but I’m not mad at either of them) and I think the music we made together in DAN was some of the most creative and fun songs I’ve ever been a part of, and I’m proud of the recordings we made together and I wish them luck with their recent project, People of Mars.

'Loop 3’ is the third installment of tracks I create using my Boss Loop Station. The first one was on '14 Songs’, and the second was on 'Stuff Volume 1’. This is probably my least favorite and is definitely the laziest one and in hindsight should’ve been left off this album entirely. Loop 4 appears on the most recent self-titled album.

“She Don’t Dig Me” was the last song recorded for this album. This song was lyrics written probably 2 years prior that I never put music to. I lifted the vocal melody of this song from Get Me by Dinosaur Jr, although in the end it turned out  Listening back to it, the audio quality on this track is embarrassing, and I remember being very frustrated with mixing it, and eventually giving up and just releasing it as-is, with several glaring technical mistakes, that hopefully nobody can notice but me.

'108’ was an older recording, recorded shortly after finished 14 Songs, but was saved for this release. At 9 minutes and 32 seconds it is the longest track I have ever recorded.

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

one pretty song, one ugly song. back and forth. that is the concept of Pretty Ugly. love and cringe as much as you can.                                                            

Released February 1, 2010                         All music written, performed, and recorded by David Walker Track 15 is a Daniel Johnston cover

1.Pretty Ugly 2.Boredumb 3.Did You See? 4.Sober and Bored 5.Hang Around 6.Live Forever 7.An Exercise in Isolation 8.An Exercise in Stupidity 9.This is Nothing 10.Loop 3 11.Mind’s Gone Blank 12.An Exercise in Laziness 13.Afterglow 14.She Don’t Dig Me 15.True Love Will Find You in The End 16.108

Download this album for free at:

https://dables.bandcamp.com/album/pretty-ugly

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

An Interview with Dan Bejar — 2004

Sunday interview! I remember feeling nervous about this one -- there weren’t a whole lot of interviews with him at the time and Bejar seemed kinda mysterious! But he was very friendly and receptive ... I still think Your Blues is one of the best Destroyer records. So there! 

Under the ominous moniker Destroyer, Dan Bejar has released some of the most adventurous and iconoclastic indie rock of the past few years. Never content to settle on one particular sound (or backing band), Bejar's already impressive body of work displays an artist with a gift for infectious melodies, a unique lyrical voice, and a fearlessly experimental streak. Your Blues, the latest Destroyer release, sees Bejar flinging himself wholly into the alien world of Roland synthesizers, MIDI guitars, and highly orchestral song forms. It's almost the polar opposite of his previous record, the sprawling, messily brilliant This Night. But once the shock of this jarring sonic shift wears off, Your Blues reveals itself to be another idiosyncratic masterpiece. On the eve of a rare North American tour, Bejar talked about the genesis of the new album, among other topics.

I understand you just played SXSW? How'd that go?

Well, it was with the incarnation with the band that's playing songs off of Your Blues, which is basically this band Frog Eyes who have learned the songs. It was our second show ever, so keeping that in mind I thought it was really good. I just started practicing these songs in the last couple months, and we've got a little ways to go, a couple more songs to learn. We did one show in Vancouver just before we played SXSW.

So are there challenges in presenting these new songs in a live setting? The album certainly isn't a "rock band" type of record.

There's no challenge, because the idea of trying to replicate or even approximate what's on the record was the first thing that we threw out the window. I mean, on some songs the vocal melody is the same, the lyrics are the same, the chords generally stay the same, but they bear no resemblance whatsoever to what you might hear on the record. For the most part, it's a full-on rock band. I'm in the middle of it right now, so I feel like I can't quite describe what exactly is happening to the songs. And also, it's really being shaped by Carey [Mercer], who is the main guy in Frog Eyes.

How'd you hook up with Frog Eyes?

A few years back, the New Pornographers played a show in Victoria and [Mercer's] band at the time, Blue Pine opened up. I met him briefly then, and heard his record and was a big fan of it. Then he started this new band Frog Eyes, and when I moved back to Vancouver I went to go see them play. We corresponded a bit, and when it came time to figure out how to tour the record, Nic [Bragg], who played a real integral part of the This Night experience, had the crazy idea that using Frog Eyes might be an interesting way to decimate the songs in a cool manner. And he ended up being right.

I'd like to talk a bit about the new record. Obviously, the production and execution of Your Blues is radically different from This Night. Did you go into recording this new one thinking you wanted to do something completely different?

You know, it was an idea I had even when we were making This Night. I don't think it was purely reactionary to the last record. I liked the idea of actually sitting down and composing something. But the idea I had is actually a fair bit different than what came out. I wanted it to be along the lines of a weird, crooning record. Lots of orchestrations, though I had a feeling I'd have to go down the MIDI road, because I knew I wouldn't be preparing charts for an orchestra or anything like that. So yeah, the idea was growing for a while. That being said, I don't think it's something I'll ever do again. I'm pretty sure of that actually.

Was it a pleasurable experience to make it? I know you've worked in more "band" settings in the past.

Yeah, it was fun. And in some ways, it was kind of leisurely. In other ways, it was nerve-wracking. But the set up was pretty easy. You just pick up your MIDI guitar and plug it into the computer and you do your metal riffs and you punch in the 101 strings setting and there you go. But at the same time, I was questioning from beginning to end whether the whole thing was completely misguided. Like, was there some sort of strange death wish I had in making the record? And I still listen to it with a certain amount of trepidation. I think it came out way more palatable than I first thought it would be.

Did you know you could get a good sound out of all of these synthesizers? Or was it more of an experimental thing?

With the MIDI technology we were using, we really didn't want to court some kind of eighties nostalgia. We got the highest end sound module we could find. Hopefully the one that ["Late Show with David Letterman" band leader] Paul Schaffer uses or something like that. And I really did want to approximate the sound of strings, or the sound of a woodwind section as much as I could. And with the synth settings, I was thinking more along the lines of new age settings more the New Wave settings. But also, my ears are worse than most people's, so you could probably play me a fairly chintzy violin sample and I'd be like "Oh man, that sounds so great!" Meanwhile everyone else would just be rolling their eyes. Having heard the record a few times, I can see where people are hearing synths where I'm hearing strings. Maybe that kind of backfired a bit. But I always knew that would probably be the case, and I wasn't too concerned with it.

Are there any sonic touchstones for Your Blues? Any records that you used as reference points?

I've always been a big Scott Walker fan. And I've listened to certain Richard Harris records that Jimmy Webb did.

Are those spoken word records?

No… well, the way he sings, it could be debated [laughs]. He did try his hardest to infuse some sort of drunken melody into the thing. And I would listen to somebody like John Cale, who I've always really liked. Just the way he used classical instruments. He always ends up being a specter on whatever record I do.

Is there any reason you're drawn to his stuff?

I just really like his solo records. There's kind of like a marriage of this old world austerity with this unavoidable pop sensibility. I can't seem to shake that.

That makes sense actually. I hadn't thought of it before, but his early eighties stuff like Music For A New Society is kind of similar in tone to Your Blues.

Exactly. When I had the idea for the record I pictured it being way more desolate and kind of barren and brutal. But the songs that I brought to the table, for the most part, were just too busy. Too many major chords. Too wordy. So things changed.

Is that the case with most Destroyer records? Do you have ideas for them that change through out the recording process?

For the Thief and Streethawk records, we were essentially trying to put forth what the band ideally would sound like if we just walked into a room and played the songs. And that was always a bit of sleight of hand, because we were always a messed-up lineup. But [producer] John [Collin]'s pretty good at creating those kinds of illusions.

And with This Night, I just wanted to make a sprawling, fucked-up record. And that was easy - I just practiced with some people who I knew would be really good at that kind of thing. And we just totally messed up the songs and didn't practice much. I went in the studio and just threw stuff at them. Those records actually ended up pretty close to the way the initial idea of them was. While this one, because it had a definite conceptual basis, changed a bit. And also, I had no idea what it would be – I'd throw around the word "MIDI" and I just didn't know how it would work or what it would sound like. And John and Dave [Carswell], who were pretty integral in shaping the record, they'd never done anything like this either. I walked into the studio with the chords and the vocal melodies and the lyrics. The rest was just us sitting down and saying "Oh, well how about this here," and John coming in at the end of the day to edit it to make it sound… not completely embarrassing. Once in a while he'd have to say, "You know, maybe MIDI congas aren't a good idea." [Laughs]

So it wasn't a free for all. But I think it definitely came out sounding a lot more melodious than we were originally thinking. And that has a lot to do with Dave as well. Once you get him on a guitar -- even if it is a MIDI guitar – he's gonna come up with catchy parts.

You mentioned the "sonic" concept of the record, but I was wondering if you'd dare call Your Blues a "concept" record? I mean, is there a narrative going on in the lyrics?

No. Lyrically I've never approached having a concept. A theme, maybe in some ways. I've kind of dabbled and waltzed in and out of this idea of a record that addressed, I don't know what, some kind of abstract bankruptcy in underground music and culture [laughs]. But I wanted to get away from that as soon as I did it. But any conceptual basis for Your Blues is purely a musical idea.

I guess the reason I ask is that a lot of the tracks have this theatrical, dramatic feel to them. I can almost see them being sung on stage.

That's funny. I'm always hesitant to mention this, but a lot of the songs on Your Blues are to be used in a play.

No kidding! But that came after the fact?

No, that came before the fact. But I have a) no ability and b) no interest in writing narrative songs. So it wasn't like I sat down to write a libretto or something like that. It was more like, here's a bunch of songs, and maybe you can use them to color the play somehow and see if somehow a Destroyer song would make sense with someone other than me singing it. And also I was pretty adamant that I had this idea for making this record that some people might mistake as like "The Sound of Music" [laughs], and that in no way would that be the way I would envision the songs being played onstage. The songs that do get used will hopefully be really stripped down and just will shine some different light on the songs.

But anyway, I think there's always been a certain amount of theatricality, if that's the word you want to use, to Destroyer songs going way back. And the songs on Your Blues, if I look at them, don't seem that atypical from the rest of the stuff I've written.

Your lyrics have always been really strong and distinctive. Are there lyricists you admire?

Yeah, of course. Somewhere in the heart of me there lurks an indie fan boy, I think. There's always a couple songs off of a Smog record that I'll hear, I'll just shake my head and walk away from it. Just like, "This fucking guy." And then I'll wonder if you can really approach writing [those sorts of lyrics] without being some kind of sociopath. And there's stuff that I really love that most people don't associate being really lyrically based music. Like the Plush records or the Neil Hagerty records. There hasn't been anything in recent years that's really leapt out at me. Frog Eyes I think are really awesome. I like the Cass McCombs record, I think that's really good.

Do you consider your songs autobiographical, or confessional in any way?

I would never write something down just to confess it. Usually it's a pretty conscious effort to create something of aesthetic value. You know what I mean? I mean, my approach to language is not super conscious in that I sit down and have some over-arching idea that the language has to fit into. It's actually really instinctual. But the aesthetic is one of using language that just works. You write it down, and somehow it's just working for you. It's not what the words mean, but what they do, I guess. How the phrasing interacts with melody, and how meaning can change once you throw that in there. That being said, you could probably comb through my lyrics and find a handful of threads that would piece it all together.

One thing I think that makes your lyrics stand out is that often they're really funny. Not in a novelty sense, but more like Bob Dylan can be really funny.

Yeah! That's cool that you think that. No one has ever said that to me. That's really good. It's not something I'm striving for, but there will be times when I look at something [that I've written] and -- I won't laugh at loud -- but I think it's just… yeah, I'll use the word "funny." In the same way that like Leonard Cohen can be funny. And Dylan can be really funny. I think that any writing I really like walks the line between severity and playfulness.