#but the cd somehow always arrives on time when i buy it from them so~~~~~ there’s that!!!!

[deus-ex-mona]

Hello!

I was wondering where LIPXLIP's second album will be available to buy.... Im planning to buy it!!!

Thanks!!!!!!

hi! there’s a list of sites to buy it on the post found the official site (along with the various preorder bonuses if you scroll down, just in case you wanna weigh your ✨options✨). here’s a direct link to the preorder “masterlist” (of sorts)!!

though, if dealing with proxy services just aren’t your thing, you can always buy it from sites like cdjapan!!

[yuikomorii]

Happy 12th anniversary! 🎉

// I can’t believe so many years have passed since Ayato’s first CD drama, which marked the beginning of Diabolik Lovers and the introduction of my girl, Yui. Even if it got its flaws, I will continue to support this franchise! 💘

I have prepared an edit and a scenario for this special day! It's meant to be a "funny" one, so there will definitely be some cringe moments, but overall it's quite lighthearted. I sincerely hope you find it enjoyable! Besides, I had a blast writing Laito; he always channels my inner mischievousness.

Yui: Hmm… I believe I have all ingredients now!

( Come to think of it, the Sakamaki brothers are vampires but they surprisingly allowed me to celebrate Christmas this year. )

( It’s honestly so ironic that it makes me wonder whether or not they actually did it for… me? )

( A-Ah no, that’s definitely not the case! I’m probably just getting selfish at this point, but I genuinely do appreciate it. For this reason, I’ll try my best to cook all of their favorite dishes so as to show my gratitude! )

( Christmas is such a magical time of the year. It brings back memories of my father and I organizing the annual Christmas Mass together. We used to decorate the church and bake sweets for children, who were so cute when receiving them! Those were activities that truly brought joy to my heart… I sort of miss those times. )

( My father… I wonder, is he preparing for Christmas too? No, he most likely isn’t… )

( I don’t even know where he is to begin with but I truly hope he’s alright… )

( Anyway, I shouldn’t ruin the mood with those thoughts. Now that I've got everything ready for the dishes, I just need to find the right spot to hide Ayato-kun’s pre— )

Ayato: Yo, Chichinashi!

Yui: G-Geez! Ayato-kun, I told you already not to sneak up behind my back!

Ayato: Haa… Fine, fine, I’m sorry.

Yui: It’s— Eh?

( Wait a little, did he just apologize? )

Ayato: Why are you making such a dumb face? You don’t believe my words, do you?

Yui: Y-You got it wrong! It’s just that I wasn’t expecting Ayato-kun to apologize for something so trivial, you see.

Ayato: Hmm, I guess you’re not wrong. But, since Christmas is coming soon, it’d be a pity for Santa Claus to write me on the naughty list after trying to avoid it the whole year.

Yui: Naughty list…?

( Is it just me, or does Ayato-kun really believe Santa Claus will give him a present? I mean… Santa is told to only deliver them to children, and I'm not sure a 17-year-old still qualifies as one. )

( But I can’t straight up tell him that! It will only ruin the magic otherwise… Besides, when that thought crosses my mind, it somehow makes him appear so pure. )

Ayato: Hah? What are you grinning at? I swear, I've made an effort to be a good boy this year!

Yui: That’s really… amazing, Ayato-kun! I’m sure Santa will remember that!

Ayato: Heh? So you really think he’ll bring me something?

Yui: Uhm… Definitely!

( His eyes started sparking, I really can’t say “no” to that…! However, that only means I'll have to get him another gift so that he can have one from "Santa" and another one from me. )

B-By the way, I think I forgot to buy gingerbread syrup. I suppose I should leave before ——

Ayato: No, no, I’ll go!

Yui: You will? Ah, but you don’t have to! I was the one who forgo—…!

( He’s covering my mouth! )

Ayato: Stop blabbering already! Ore-sama offered to buy it for you, so you could try being a bit more grateful!

Yui: That’s… you’re right.

( Maybe it’s for the better. This way, I'll be able to find a hiding place for the present I already have for him. )

Ayato: I’ll be right back!

—Timeskip—

Ayato: Tsk, I can’t believe that shit was out of stock!

Chichinashi will surely be disappointed, if I come home with nothing! After all, she takes all that Christmas stuff seriously…

What's worse is that I tried really hard to find it, but it was already sold out by the time I arrived!

Tsk, damn it! Why must this be so complicated!?

Laito: Well, well. Seems like Ayato-kun is quite moody today.

Ayato: Get lost you pervert, it’s none of your business!

Laito: Haa… how rude of you, Ayato-kun. And there I was actually intending to give you this, but I guess you don’t need it anymore.

Bye bye~!

Ayato: Wait… What’s that thing in your hand?

Laito: What you ask? Nfu, it’s gingerbread syrup, of course. I was able to get the last one today.

Ayato: Wha—! Oi, you better give it to me or else—

Laito: Or else what~?

Ayato: I’ll—… Nevermind.

Look, you know I’m not into cheesy stuff but Chichinashi really loves Christmas, okay? Getting that gingerbread syrup might make her happy ‘cause maybe it’d remind her of how she celebrated it with her pops. That’s why… I can’t believe I’m saying this but… give it to me, please!

Laito: Woah, it’s honesty hour, hm?

Well, whatever, I don’t really care about that gingerbread syrup anyway, so you can take it if you want to.

Ayato: Really? Gr—

Laito: You didn’t let me finish though. I will only give it to you, if you promise me something.

Ayato: Hah? What the hell is it this time!?

Laito: No need to get so worked up~. All you have to do is to ensure that Bitch-chan consumes at least one glass of syrup at the time you bring it to her.

Ayato: That’s it? Pfft, easiest task ever!

Wait… almost a bit too easy.

Oi you perv, you better not plan something behind Ore-sama’s back, understood?

Laito: Normally I would, but Christmas is just around the corner, right? Who would risk being added to the naughty list at the last minute, right?

— hands Ayato the gingerbread syrup—

Place: Living room

Ayato: Yui! Yui! I’m back and look what I found!!

Yui: Good job, Ayato-kun! Thank you so much for helping me!

Ayato: Now take a seat!

— forces her to sit down —

Yui: Eh? What’s happening?

Ayato: Nothing to worry about, just drink this!

— shoves glass of syrup down her throat —

Yui: Mmh…!!

(What on earth!? I can’t breathe—!)

— Yui swallows it —

Ayato: So~, how is it?

— Yui starts coughing —

Yui: It’s… it’s not as sweet as I remembered. This one is quite bitter.

Ayato: Bitter? Don’t spout nonsense, gingerbread can’t be bitter!

Yui: Yeah… thought so too… but..

(My head started spinning around…)

Ayato: Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?

Yui: Uuh… Sorry, Ayato-kun, I’m suddenly feeling so dizzy…

Ayato: How—?

( The heck’s wrong with her? Is it ‘cause she swallowed that too fast or…? )

Yui: Ayato-kun…

Ayato: What’s it?

Yui: Has anyone ever told you before that you are… extremely cute?

Ayato: Hah!? I mean, yeah, but what’s up with the random confession?

Yui: Eh? Am I not allowed to compliment the most adorable boy in the whole wide world…?

Ayato: Huh—?

Yui: You see, when I look at you like that… you might not be very clear, yet I can’t help but want to protect you…

Ayato: Protect me? D-Don’t say shit like that, it should be the other way around! After all, Ore-sama is the stron—!

(She pinned me down!?)

Yui: Fufu, you’re just so funny when you praise yourself like that…!

Everything about you is so beautiful… your hard yet nicely textured hair, your jade green eyes, your long eyelashes, your ——

Ayato: Tsk, get off me!

— pushes her away —

— Yui falls down —

Yui: Ngh…!

Ayato: …!

Oi! I… I didn’t mean to! Wait, gimme your hand!

— Yui takes his hand and looks up —

Ayato: (Don’t tell me… did that push bring her back to normal? Heh, if that’s so then—)

Yui: Mistletoe…

— puts her hands on his cheeks —

Yui: Holding your face like this makes me realize how soft your cheeks are… They are so round that I wish I could give you more and more Takoyaki until they become even chubbier…!

Ayato: S-Say what—!?

( It’s not like I dislike cheeky women but she’s nuts! )

— Yui gets closer to his lips —

Ayato: …!

*Smooch*

Laito: Fufu, hahaha, look at your face!

Ayato: Oi, Laito! Don’t just stand there staring, help me!

*Smooch*

Laito: Now why would I? After all, I already did you a favor by giving you the gingerbread liquor~!

Ayato: But you— Did you just say gingerbread LIQUOR!?

*Smooch*

Laito: Ex-act-ly! I was simply curious to see what kind of ‘drunk’ Bitch-chan is, and it seems like she’s the honest and horny type.

— takes picture —

Ayato: O-Oi! Don’t you dare to send it to anyone, delete it right now!

Laito: Oh my, look at the time! Now excuse me but I have to take my leave~.

Ayato: You can’t! Save me first!

Laito: Sorry Ayato-kun, no matter how delicious it feels watching you on top of each other while making out in plain sight, I've got better things to do, so... nfu, enjoy while it lasts!

— winks and disappears —

Ayato: You… You bastard! You will pay for this, I swear you wi— Mmh… Mm!

( Now how will I get myself out of THIS situation!? )

( Ugh, that’s what happens when you try helping others. I should have learnt my lesson a long time ago! )

— Yui stops kissing —

Yui: Will Ayato-kun… suck my blood?

Ayato: …!

( Heh, suddenly this doesn’t seem half bad anymore. I might actually grow to like being desired like that~. )

[crescentblossom66]

A hat in time writing prompts: Prompt 26 Stay out

He hummed a song to himself as he weaved through the crowd, all in all it had been a great success. He managed to buy a nice new set of floor lights that he planned on using to light up his dance floor set even more. He also found a new coffee machine, his penguins had complained about the old one being broken, so he decided to reward their efforts by buying a new one for them.

DJ Grooves' gaze fell on the jewelry store just across the plaza, without the usual bounce in his step, he made his way through the bustling plaza. In his bag he had one more thing that he was glad he found, it had been the only CD of its kind left in the whole electronics section. He remembered how they enjoyed listening to the track back in the day, and he hoped that it could help reconnect better with her.

Last time he noticed that something was bothering her, the moment he entered the store, she was...far more distanced when she had been the last time they talked, which had caught him off guard a little, but it was understandable, after all it had been several years.

When he arrived he noticed that the lights were off, despite him still having arrived in the shop's regular business hours. He sighed deeply, looking back inside the store through the window, but only his own reflection greeted him, his sad, exhausted looking face. He really missed his once best friend.

The tall penguin tried to cheer himself up again by remembering the good times they shared, but it honestly made him only feel worse somehow. He heard a quiet noise that sounded like a sharp inhale come from the little alley on the other side of the store. Curious about this, he decided to investigate and found just the person that he had tried to meet up with about to open the side door to the store.

“Hello, Emmie, darling. Glad that I found you. I thought that the store was open today.” The Empress flinched after hearing the low voice of the penguin. Why was he here? She hoped that he hadn't noticed the gash on her arm, that she endured after a high ranking gang member of a rival gang struggled in vain, and scratched her. Did that cat really think that she'd show mercy? For that there was no place in this harsh reality she now found herself in.

“I had some...business to attend to, so I had to step out for a bit.” She tried to keep it vague. What would her kind and friendly friend think about her, if she told him that she was the leader of the biggest gang that ruled over the shady business here in the metro? He'd likely hate her, worst case she'd have to...silence him. No! She couldn't do that to him!

He gasped and ran over to her suddenly, grabbing the arm that she was trying to hide form the moon penguin. The concern that he showed only strengthened the resolve she had to keep him out of all this. “Emmy, you're hurt! What happened?”

“I...got mugged along the way, but don't worry, it's already been dealt with.” DJ Grooves only looked at the injury and just how nonchalant she talked about all of this. Had she always downplayed her injuries like that.

“What?! That is horrible, darling, who'd do this to you!”

“Crime is on the rise here in the metro, Groovsie. It would be better for you if you avoid coming here as much as possible. The bird world would not be able to cope with the loss of their best celebrity, never mind the suffering they'd have to endure only being able to watch dusty, old Westerns.-” He seemed to contemplate on what he should do. The tall feline hoped that he would just leave and not come back...It pained her, but it was for the better. “If you would excuse me now, I'd like some time to myself, I'm still a bit shaken form the incident.”

The face of the penguin fell more and more, and she could have sworn that he looked like he was going to cry. God, she hated this!

“I...I understand, darling.-” He rummaged through the bag he was holding and produced a music disk, which he held out to her, “-Remember these? We used to listen to these songs so often, that I can play all of them on guitar and piano.” He spoke cheerfully and forced a smile, which could have fooled anyone, a statement to how great of an actor he was, however, she noticed the melancholy in his words.

The cat took it reluctantly, while forcing out a 'thank you', she looked away when she spoke again. “Goodbye, Grooves.” She opened and closed the door before he could say anything further.

“Goodbye, Empress.”

-

@r3d1ke @majormeilani

I wrote a follow-up to prompt 11, I thought that you'd want to read this.

[putschki1969]

Hi Puts, I have a question, but maybe it's too personal. As a fan, how much money do you spend? I think the three FC alone cost about $130 a year. Each shipment to Mexico costs between $20 and $50, including fees. Buying CDs, DVDs, streaming tickets, shop items, magazines (Idk if Hikaru and Keiko send something like Botanical Tsushin) I think is quite a bit of money. I graduated this year and recently started working, so I'm wondering how much money I need to pay for everything I want.

Hello there!

Don't worry, I have no filter so there is literally nothing too personal you could ever ask me. Also, I think it's important to be transparent about stuff like that.

Before I get to the juicy details I want to preface this post by saying that I am in a very privileged position so using my fangirl expenses as a general reference is probably not the best idea. There is free education and public health care in my country so I do not have any debts from either of those. On top of that I do have a job with a decent salary and my monthly fixed costs are comparatively low since I share the rent and stuff with my mum (yup, I am 30+ and choose to live with my mum, sue me). My company pays for public transportation, internet and a big portion of my meals. Last but not least, I have no car, no partner, no kids, no pets, no other social commitments or anything else that would burden me financially aside from my obsession with Kalafina so I am free to spend a considerable amount of my income on my "hobby" without having to worry too much about running into debt or not having enough savings.

Having said that, I will openly admit that I spend a SHIT-TON of money for my girls, much more than I am honestly comfortable with. Yes, I can more or less afford it but it still brings me a lot of pain and tears every single day.

Now let's get into the details 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→ [Like you I will be using USD for easy understanding]

I honestly cannot tell you a definitive number since my expenses always change depending on how many events and releases are scheduled for a particular time period. I guess I can provide a rough overview of what I am currently spending on Kalafina since there are quite a few things happening right now (nothing compared to last December though).

The four FCs I am part of with their combined costs of roughly $150 are what I consider to be “negligible costs” and they are really my least concern in the grand scheme of things.

The streaming tickets are very cheap in my opinion and I would gladly pay even more for them if it meant I wouldn't have to spend a fortune on regular trips to Japan. But yeah, it's another $150 to $200 a year for various streaming events.

Releases and merch are pricey in and of themselves (incl. around $5-$10 of domestic shipping) but it's made even worse when you are crazy like me and buy multiple copies of something just to get special benefits. Recently I have ordered Hikaru's merch (~$100), Keiko's merch (~$50), Wakana's merch (~$120) and three *coughs* copies of Wakana's Blu-ray (~$220). I also made sure to purchase Hikaru's albums on iTunes (~$20) even though I already own the CDs.

International shipping/import fees is where the costs pile up and I usually end up paying anywhere from $20 up to $150 for packages. Austria has literally the WORST import regulations T_T

I also indulge in the occasional Kalafina fashion item so that gets pretty expensive too. But that’s just me so there is really no need to take these costs into consideration.

So yeah, you can expect to spend a LOT of money depending on how greedy you are. :P Being an overseas Kalafina-fan sucks! However, I have two tips for you:

Prioritising is key! Find out what’s most important to you and then make peace with the fact that you will never be able to buy everything because that’s just not reasonable (unless you are filthy rich :P). I obviously focus on digital and physical music releases because that’s how you support their solo careers. I know it’s tempting to pirate this stuff but I urge all fans to make those purchases. The same applies to live stream tickets. If you have the means and the event is foreigner-friendly, please go for it! Aside from that, you will just have to choose your orders wisely. Ask yourself the questions: What kind of benefits do I prefer? What merch am I most likely to use? Any merch I am particularly fond of? Make sure you don’t end up overspending. While I keep encouraging fans to spend their money, you should always do it within reason. 

Cluster your orders! If you are using a proxy service like Tenso or Buyee, it’s best to have items arrive around the same time so you can consolidate your packages (within the 30-day period). After all, there is nothing more frustrating than paying $20 on shipping for a tiny fan club magazine that’s basically for free. So before you make a purchase, check the scheduled shipping time and try to make your orders align with each other. And also try to pay attention to the shipping dates of FC-related items, that’s not always easy since the schedules aren’t exactly regular but you can at least get a feel for them. If a FC item happens to arrive at the warehouse, you could always use that opportunity to order some in-stock goods or releases you have had your eye on. They should arrive quickly so you can ship them together with the FC-item. Please note that this will of course increase shipping costs/import fees since your packages will get bigger/heavier but I think at the end of the day, you are still saving money.

I know it’s often frustrating and intimidating to navigate through the world of Kalafina but I hope my posts can at least somehow help to alleviate the the stress that comes with being an overseas fan.

[sparkkeyper]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Word Count: 3,797

Warnings: None    

Summary: Old habits die hard. Crowley and Aziraphale’s habits are very, very old. Building their own side is difficult when 6000 years of instincts won’t shut up. 

(Originally very loosely-based on the song "Baby, It's Cold Outside" but then it kind of did its own thing, haha. I was originally going to post this for Advent  Omens but uhhh you can see that didn’t quite happen. Written as ace but you can read it however you want, really. Guess what fools, it’s Soft Boi hours again!)

(Now on AO3!)

-----------

The snow had started early in the day. When Aziraphale arrived at the Mayfair flat it was just a dusting. But the flurry had become a proper snowfall, and then quickly decided 'go big or go home' and transitioned into a flat-out storm.

This didn't phase the two immortals in the slightest, of course. If anything, the swirling flakes outside made it feel even cozier inside. Crowley's sleek, minimalist flat had grown a fireplace for the occasion, and a very surprised new chimney on the roof of the building found itself venting smoke that somehow managed to bypass three floors.

They sat together on the plush sofa (obtained at Aziraphale's insistence several months prior, on the grounds that he wasn't going to continue coming over if there was nowhere comfortable to sit, and Crowley couldn't have that) and drank wine and talked and laughed and reveled in the feeling of being cozy and warm on a cold, blustery day.

Time had traveled on in the usual manner since Armageddon failed to happen. The two of them were unwinding slowly. Thousands of years of looking over shoulders did not evaporate in an evening, benevolent Antichrist or no, and 'our side' was a concept they were still carefully exploring. But what a glorious exploration it was.

There was no limit to the amount of time they could spend together. It was a dizzying concept that they were both adjusting to, but one that carried a thrill through it all the same. Crowley had been sorely tempted to buy tickets to every concert, play, and musical revue London had to offer and do nothing but attend shows for the foreseeable future, the two of them together. In public. He very well might have done too, if Aziraphale hadn't talked him down amid giddy chuckles. "We have time," Aziraphale had reminded him, and Crowley was ecstatic to realize that it was true.

He had relented to two a week.

It was elating. They stood closer together, they sat beside each other on public transportation rather than one behind the other, they gave each other teasing nudges with elbows.

And sometimes - when they were both at least a bottle in - one of them might even bump their hand against the other's, and fingers might intertwine, and an electric tingle would flood Crowley like a live thing, and most importantly neither would pull away for at least two solid minutes and oh wasn't that alone worth saving the world for?

Crowley spent a previously-unheard-of amount of time at the bookshop and Aziraphale's face always lit up like the sun whenever he walked in. He arrived early, stayed late, sometimes didn't bother going home at all, often showed up with wine or snacks, and they were together and it was wonderful. He had fallen asleep on the bookshop couch in the past, but these months he got the impression that Aziraphale had zoned the piece of furniture as specifically his. There was a permanent place set aside for him in Aziraphale's home, in Aziraphale's life. It made a warmth pool in his stomach to think about it despite the creeping winter chill.

Aziraphale had begun to visit Crowley's flat in return. The angel had never once set foot in the place until the night after the airfield - Crowley had never given him the address, to be fair - but now that permission had been granted Aziraphale was here increasingly often. It was so like the easy evenings at the bookshop, just with more austere surroundings. Music, alcohol, debates and memories and slightly drunken speculation. The occasional temporary twining of fingers. It was good.

It was overwhelming sometimes, this new 'good'.

Aziraphale always left the flat at the end of the evening, usually around ten. He had no reservations whatsoever about chatting until dawn in the bookshop but the flat was a new environment, Crowley supposed. Possibly something to do with propriety.

Possibly something to do with thousands of years of distance that they were both still figuring out how to cross.

But that was Aziraphale, all right: as slow and steady as a glacier when it came to his set, comfortable ways. So much had changed in the past few months and the angel had had to adapt quickly. Crowley didn't begrudge him taking a few things slow. Old habits were hard to break and their habits were very, very old.

Crowley understood well how shadows could linger even in the bright daylight. It was all well and good to say he was off Hell's payroll. It was another thing entirely when instinct crept up on him screaming that he needed to watch his back, to sit a row behind Aziraphale on the bus, to have forty excuses ready for when Dagon came auditing. It took considerable effort to override those instincts and remind himself that 'together' was okay. It was allowed. And still he'd so far only managed to turn the volume down on them, not silence them completely. He didn't know if he ever would. Crowley didn't doubt Aziraphale had similar instincts of his own. If the angel felt better setting himself a curfew, Crowley certainly wasn't going to judge.

But tonight they were here, and warm, and sheltered from the blizzard. As 'retro' had begun to slide back into style, Crowley had picked up a sleek addition to his stereo system that was at once a record turntable, radio, tape deck, and CD player, with added Bluetooth capability for good measure. Strains of Vivaldi swam through the room from a vinyl, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the clinking of wine glasses. Aziraphale was settled deeply into the sofa, his posture several steps short of perfect which was how Crowley knew he was truly relaxed. Crowley, as per usual, was draped over the couch like he'd never seen one before in his life, as though he had too many limbs and didn't know what to do with them all. It was good.

Life was good.

It was a little after ten when Aziraphale spoke up. "It's getting late." His voice was a bit distant as he looked out the window, snow glinting in the reflected light as it fell. "I suppose I ought to be going."

There was a note of regret to his voice, a lack of conviction in his eyes, that Crowley had learned to read over the long years of the Arrangement. A smile pulled at the corner of the demon's mouth, covered up easily by another sip of wine. It was a very old game they played, treading carefully along the outside edges of things that could not or should not be said aloud. Expectations, angelic ones in particular, built a lot of barriers. Aziraphale wanted something that wasn't allowed him - or wasn't supposed to be allowed him - and couldn't bring himself to reach out and grasp it. It was Crowley's job to find ways for him to justify the forbidden something to himself.

In the subtle language they shared, the angel was asking Crowley to tempt him, and how could Crowley pass up a request like that?

"Awfully cold out there," the demon drawled, gesturing languidly toward the window with his wine glass. "Snowing like nobody's business. Wind and ice and subzero chill. Terrible night to be out in."

"I'm sure it's not so bad."

"Not so bad? It's been raging for hours! Look at it! It's knee-high! You expect me to try and drive my poor car out in that mess?"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the demon. "Ah yes. Imagine if humans invented other forms of transportation aside from your horrid car."

The demon's argument was all bluff and they both knew it. The Bentley could slice through the snowdrifts like a hot knife through butter if Crowley wanted it to. It wasn't the strength of the argument that mattered - it was whether or not Aziraphale could twist it to bypass the metaphorical roadblocks. Crowley rose to the challenge by sprawling back on the sofa with a smirk. "Other forms of transportation? You mean a bus, in weather like that? And good luck finding a cab out there, angel. City's practically shut down."

Aziraphale stood, giving his back a tentative stretch. "I could walk, of course. I've done it loads of times. It doesn't take much more than twenty minutes, not counting the care that has to be taken for ice."

"Walk, he says!" Crowley tossed back the remainder of his wine like a shot glass. "Think of it - the first angel in history to catch pneumonia! Bad job I'm not working for Hell anymore; they'd give me an award!"

"If doing those temptations in Qashliq for you didn't give me pneumonia, I'm quite sure nothing will."

"Are you ever going to let that go? It was over four hundred years ago!"

"It was February in Siberia, no I will not."

"Suppose you did stay a bit longer," Crowley ventured, changing tactics. It was a risk, coming at the problem from such a direct angle when they were both so used to ghosting along edges. "Bookshop wouldn't go anywhere, would it?"

Aziraphale blinked at the abrupt transition. "Well no, I shouldn't think so. It's just...I mean if I don't return home someone might notice of course and well...people will talk."

Crowley leaned forward over his knees, seriously. "Angel. When, in two hundred years in that bookshop, have you ever given a single fuck what your human neighbours think?"

Aziraphale drew himself up with a huff, and Crowley was delighted to see familiar indignation winning out over nerves. "I am an upstanding member of the community, I'll have you know. And it's not just my neighbours, of course - it's yours as well. That little old lady who lives on the floor below, for example. She always gives me that look when I pass her in the lift."

"What look?"

"You know! That look! Like she thinks she knows what's going on between the two of us."

The demon grinned like a Cheshire cat and gave a suggestive wiggle of his shoulders just for the expression it painted across the angel's face. "You're worried that my neighbours are going to think you and I took a tumble in the sheets?"

"They already suspect! Or at least she suspects." Aziraphale was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but mirth glinted behind his eyes. "Do you know what she said to me as she was getting out of the lift the other day? 'Don't forget to use protection; you don't know where he's been!'"

Crowley howled, leaning so far back in his laughter that he fell off the couch.

"I don't know what's more outlandish, the idea that we're in here having a lurid physical affair or the idea that I don't know exactly where you've been."

Crowley wiped his eyes dry and held out a hand so the angel could help pull him up from the floor. "Remind me to miracle her fridge so that all her milk keeps past its date. 'Don't know where he's been' indeed."

Aziraphale fought to get his own smile under control, for the sake of his argument if nothing else. "Yes, but it just goes to show, Crowley, people do notice. And they will talk, I'm sure of it."

"Let them," he waved it off. "I've seen tissue paper with more durability than human gossip. It'll all get forgotten in a day or two." Crowley leaned over and refilled both glasses.

"Right. I suppose it will." The angel took a tentative sip and sat back into the sofa again. "Silly thing to get worked up about, really."

On a regular night that might have been the end of it. They'd had their verbal tennis, they'd had a laugh, and Aziraphale had accepted another drink. But try as he might, the angel couldn't seem to settle. There was a stiffness, a tension to his spine that would not unwind. He fidgeted with the stemware, shooting furtive glances at the window, the fireplace, the clock. 

The ceiling.

The final notes of Vivaldi faded out, leaving the room in silence, and Crowley rose to swap the record. The discomfort radiating off the angel was almost palpable and it made his own spine crawl. "Aziraphale--"

"Only, the wind really looks dreadful," Aziraphale blurted out, jolting to his feet and crossing to the window. "I really ought to go before it gets worse."

"Can't get much worse than it is, I think," Crowley countered carefully. "Best stay where it's warm."

"I don't..." Aziraphale stared out at the London skyline, nearly invisible in the storm. Pale fingers worried absently at the hem of his waistcoat. His mouth was down to a thin line and there was quite a lot behind his eyes. He looked pained. "I shouldn't impose."

"You're not imposing if I'm offering."

"It isn't...it isn't right for me to stay!"

The demon set down the vinyl he was holding, something dangerous layering his words. "Says who?"

"I've been ignoring protocol too much as it is--"

Crowley gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his throat. "There is no protocol on our side!"

"I know!" Aziraphale snapped. There was a beat of silence and the anger in the angel's face melted as suddenly as it had come, leaving his expression frustrated and upset. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, almost apologetically. "I...I really can't...surely you understand why I can't just..." He ran a hand through his hair helplessly, eyes darting to the ceiling.

The demon set his glass down and moved over to the window.

It was a very old game they played. Crowley was good at his job and Aziraphale was good at the mental gymnastics required to fit through some of the more dubious loopholes. But every now and then they still lost.

He positioned himself in front of the principality, forcing Aziraphale to look at him.

"Angel," he said quietly, as though someone might overhear. "If you want to head home, I'll take you. You know I will. I'd just rather it be because you want to rather than because they would want you to."

Aziraphale looked truly miserable. "Crowley, you've been a marvelous host, you really have, but...I'm so sorry, I..."

Crowley stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. For just a moment the demon's face was soft, genuine. A bit sad but still impossibly fond. "Don't be." He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's late. Get your coat, angel, it's cold out there." He doused the fireplace with a wave and stretched his back out. "Give me a moment to sober up and I'll start the car."

Aziraphale sighed, clearly frustrated at a great many things, but headed for the coat rack while the demon forced the alcohol from his system. "It ought to be fine," he muttered as the wine bottles in the corner finished refilling. "It ought to be fine. I can't explain it, I..."

"It's like someone's standing too close inside your personal space," Crowley finished for him quietly, pulling a coat of his own from the ether. "Like you're driving on the motorway and you end up in the blind spot of a lorry. There's no great outward change but all of a sudden the hairs are up on the back of your neck and your skin is crawling. And you just have this overwhelming sense of this is not a good place to be, get out."

"Yes," Aziraphale murmured unsteadily. "Yes, that's it exactly." His eyes found Crowley's, apologetic, searching.

"It is what it is, angel," he assured him softly. "We have time."

A weight seemed to lift from Aziraphale's shoulders. "I...thank you. Truly." There were things unspoken that Crowley could hear beneath that simple phrase. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being patient with me.

Don't say that, hesitated on the tip of Crowley's tongue. Instinct was, of course, very old and very strong. He swallowed down the words and searched for new ones to replace them.

"You're welcome," he said quietly. The syllables tasted foreign in his mouth.

There was silence in the flat as he buttoned up his coat. Despite the passing months they truly had only moved the barest steps away from where they had been.

They had so very far to go yet.

But it was true. They had time.

"Right." He tried to break the mood as casually as he could, slipping dark glasses on and turning his voice into something light and easy. "Shall we be off then? After you, angel."

The lift ride down was silent, subdued. Something complicated was warring behind the blue eyes and Crowley wasn't going to even begin to touch on it until they were in the car. Aziraphale's steps faltered as he reached the glass doors of the lobby, and Crowley was halfway down the outside stairs before he realized he wasn't following.

"Oi, you coming?"

Aziraphale stared down at the space beyond the door with a peculiar expression: uncertainty and determination and anger and hurt. "I - I don't..." There was a moment of indecision, of frantic debate on his face, then he backed quickly over to the lobby bench and sat down hard.

Crowley pulled his coat tighter about himself as the wind bit through his clothes and ducked back into the building.

Aziraphale held very still, eyes closed and fingers gripping the edge of the bench.

"Angel?"

"Give me a moment. Please."

Crowley paced a cautious half-circle around him, instinctively scanning the principality for damage and the storm beyond the glass wall for threats. Another old habit - nearly useless now but one he wasn't going to be able to drop any time soon. He sat down beside the angel and the lobby was quiet for a very, very long time.

"I think," murmured Aziraphale at last, "if it's all right with you, I'd like to stay."

Crowley studied him closely. "Are you sure?"

"No." Aziraphale met his gaze. "I haven't been sure of much of anything, recently. Not since Tadfield. But I do not want to be forced back to the bookshop tonight."

"Shouldn't force yourself to stay if you're only going to be miserable."

"It's not so bad down here, that's the silly thing. But for some reason the idea of going back upstairs is just..." He laughed wryly. "What a mess I've made of the evening."

"It was a fine evening," Crowley told him earnestly.

"I thought so too, at least until the end there." He straightened, and looked a bit more like himself to Crowley's eyes. "And it's my most sincere hope that, with some more wine and another record, it might be again. Give me a few minutes. I think I can work up to it."

The demon took his glasses off and studied him closely. The determination in those eyes, the set of that jaw, were so familiar they hurt. There was a nervousness there, but there was a stubbornness as well. Like the glacier: slow, steady, but deep down so, so strong.

Crowley reached behind himself and retrieved a pair of full wine glasses that suddenly and thoughtfully decided to exist. "You know, I reckon..." he said quietly, handing one to Aziraphale, "that these will taste just as good right here as they would upstairs."

Aziraphale blinked. Glanced from his glass to the demon to the lift and back again. And his expression softened considerably.

"And if music and wine is what it takes to hang onto your company for a little longer, I s'pose that's the sacrifice I'll have to make, won't I?" He sat his phone down beside him and with a few taps Mozart began to play from its speakers.

Aziraphale stared deep into his wine glass, a smile spreading across his face that he didn't seem quite ready to share with the world yet. "A little unorthodox, isn't it?"

"And?" Crowley shrugged. "Last I checked, there's no protocol on our side."

"So there isn't. Do you know, I think I like that about it."

The demon lowered his voice. "Say the word any time, you know. We'll go, no questions asked."

"I know." Aziraphale let out a long breath and settled back onto cushions that were suddenly far more plush than anything the lobby bench had seen before. "But at the moment I'd rather be here."

The storm howled beyond the glass wall but the central heating vent behind them kept any stray chills at bay. They sat in gentle silence for a long time.

Piano Sonata No. 14 wound through the room, mingling with the warmth and the wine to kindle a sense of calm: a concoction of human magic that miracles, for all their power, could never replicate. Clever things, those humans.

Crowley traced a finger around the rim of his glass. "Can I ask what changed your mind?" he asked softly.

Aziraphale gazed off into the distance for a moment before looking back to his companion. "It was the 'you're welcome', funnily enough. You've always objected so vehemently to being thanked before."

"Yeah, well..." Crowley took another sip of his drink so as not to meet Aziraphale's eyes. "Like being in the blind spot of a lorry."

Aziraphale nodded. "It's..." He trailed off. Took a swig of wine and swallowed it down hard, as though for courage. "It's a comfort," he admitted so quietly that Crowley had to strain to hear him. "To know that it's not just me."

Crowley pursed his lips. "Not by a long shot, no" he confessed, equally quiet.

"I know accepting gratitude doesn't come easy to you. But you managed, tonight."

"It isn't a footrace, angel. I'm not asking you to keep pace with me."

"I know that. And I'm grateful. It's just... seeing you be brave makes me feel like...like I can be as well."

That smile was tugging at the edge of Crowley's mouth again. He reached out and clinked the edge of his glass with Aziraphale's. "Course you can be. Always have been."

The angel smiled back at him, warm and glowing and grateful, just the faintest hint of pink darkening his cheeks. With a daring Crowley had only seen behind the safety of closed doors and wine bottles, he placed a hand on the bench between them, palm up. 

Crowley took it.

Meeting him in the middle, as always.

"Careful, angel," the demon murmured in his ear. "Remember, you don't know where I've been."

Aziraphale gave an undignified snort into his wine glass and their laughter echoed throughout the lobby.

The storm raged cold outside, but here, in their own little in-between place, they were warm.

[missfangirll]

Tie your heart to mine

Fandom: SCI Mystery Relationship: Zhan Yao / Bai Yutong Tags: Case fic, Angst with a happy ending Chapters: 3 Summary: Zhan Yao has disappeared.

Read on AO3

By night, love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness.

--Pablo Neruda, Love Sonnet 79

Chapter 1: Descensus Averno

The world went to hell on a Thursday.

Bai Yutong couldn’t even remember the reason for the fight he had with Zhan Yao that Sunday. It was probably something stupid, like whose turn it was to do the dishes, and yet it was all he was able to think about later.

They had still been arguing the whole drive to the airport, Zhan Yao hadn’t even looked back or said goodbye when he had gotten out of the car, hauling his suitcase through the lobby, his whole body tense, shoulders square, his steps determined. Bai Yutong had watched him until he vanished in the crowd and wished he wasn’t so stubborn. They both were. He loved his cat with all his heart, but living together didn’t always bring out the best in either of them.

Because of the nature of their parting he hadn’t been surprised when Zhan Yao hadn’t called from the hotel that evening, or any other evening that followed. Sad, yes, angry and hurt, but not surprised. He had spent the whole Monday hiding in his office, going over some cold cases a good enough reason not to examine his feelings to closely.

The following days hadn’t been any better and by Wednesday evening he had been determined to pick up Zhan Yao from the airport and apologise immediately, maybe cook his favourite food or take him to see a movie, anything to make things right again.

And then, nothing was right anymore.

On Thursday morning, the hotel Zhan Yao had stayed in called to let him know there had been a mix-up in the reservation and his credit card would be charged twice, but it had been handled and he would get a refund. He hadn’t really been listening to the explanations and apologies, until the caller mentioned she hadn’t been able to reach Zhan Yao this morning and therefore had called him, which made him pause. Slightly alarmed, he tried to make sense of that information. “You mean you called his room and he didn't answer?” “No,” she said in an apologising tone. “He has checked out yesterday evening and I couldn’t reach his mobile phone. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Bai Yutong felt his stomach drop. “He was supposed to fly back today. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

“Sorry,” the clerk said. “He didn’t say, only left last night.”

“Let me call you back”, he said hastily and hung up. While he dialled Zhan Yao’s number from memory, his mind went through a million possible explanations. Maybe he was still mad and therefore hadn’t called? Maybe he had taken an earlier flight? But why wasn’t he home already, a voice in his mind whispered.

The call went straight to voicemail and Bai Yutong stared disbelievingly at his phone, his heart beating painfully slow in his chest.

After this he didn’t waste any more time. He informed the team that their resident professor had gone AWOL and set everyone to work: He called the hotel again to make sure Zhan Yao’s room would be sealed and treated as a crime scene, then had Zhao Fu find the next possible flight and Jiang Ling trace Zhan Yao’s phone – the former with success, the latter not so much, since it apparently had been turned off all week.

Pinching his nose, Bai Yutong muttered a curse, took a deep breath and addressed his team: “Alright, Wang Shao and Zhao Fu are with me. Jiang Ling, you work best behind your own desk, so you stay, Ma Han and the little one”, he nodded to Bai Chi, “will assist you. Call me immediately if you find anything useful.” The chorus of “Yes, Sir!” did nothing to ease his anxiety, but he smiled at them anyway and nodded. “Let’s go. Let’s find him.”

The flight didn’t take long, and when Wang Shao hailed a taxi, Bai Yutong’s mind was already busy making lists and sorting through facts. They arrived at the hotel shortly after noon and immediately went to work, first explaining his case to the – very helpful – manager, who promptly offered a suite to use as a headquarter as long as they would need it.

Searching Zhan Yao’s room wasn’t really enlightening. He hadn’t left anything when he checked out – Bai Yutong noticed he hadn’t even taken the small shampoo samples and his heart clenched in fond exasperation. His cat was honest to a fault, really. Sitting on the bed in the quiet, empty room, he ran a hand through his hair.

Where are you, Cat?

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

Cold.

 He felt cold.

 It was a cold that didn’t feel normal, not like being outside on a chilly day or after taking a cold shower. It was odd, somehow, vibrating, like a living being, moving inside him.

 He felt it in his soul, his heart, his bones.

 How curious, he thought.

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

Sighing, Bai Yutong took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found what he was looking for. Bai Qintang answered after the first ring. “Any news?” He sighed. “No, it’s… He’s…” He trailed off and sighed again, pinching his nose. “This is a nightmare, jie.”

“You’re going to find him, Yutong. I have no doubts about your abilities.”

“Jie, it’s my fault. We haven't spoken in a week. If I hadn't--”

“Oh, shut it!” Bai Qintang blurted. “It’s not your fault and you know it. Stop pitying yourself and start being useful. He’s counting on you, so you need to get your shit together.” Bai Yutong winced at the tone, but knew she was right. He swallowed hard. “Thanks, sis, I’ll try.” He could hear her smile through the phone. “That’s my baby brother!” He rolled his eyes and hung up. Feeling slightly more optimistic, he stood up to gather his team, leading them to the reception desk.

The clerk, the one who had called Bai Yutong and was now very keen to help, remembered Zhan Yao leaving shortly after 8 p.m. the day before. He had given her a rather good tip and asked about a store where he could buy some provisions, which she had told him.

Bai Yutong decided to pay that store a visit. After flashing his badge into the manager’s face – and hoping she wouldn’t look closely enough to see he was from another city – she produced a security tape from the night before, leaving him and Zhao Fu in the cramped store room to watch it. Hunched over the tiny screen, he saw Zhan Yao walk into the store, dressed as impeccably as always, carrying the small black suitcase that had been his birthday gift last year. He vanished from the screen for a few minutes, only to reappear at one of the self-checkout registers, piling his items haphazardly on the surface. Bai Yutong couldn’t make out all of the things he bought, but he recognised a few water bottles, cans of soft drink, lots of chocolate bars and something that looked like a CD case. He frowned. What on earth had his cat been up to?

After Zhan Yao had left the frame with his suitcase and a shopping bag, Bai Yutong ended the recording and stood up. That had been only moderately helpful. Nodding to the manager, he and Zhao Fu left the store and returned to the hotel room to meet with Wang Shao.

Two hours and a lot of empty take-out boxes later, he sat at the low coffee table in his room, socked feet on the table, a coffee mug beside him. The chairs next to him were occupied by his remaining team members, whose faces showed the same feelings that Bai Yutong was sure were on his own as well: frustration, anxiety, exhaustion.

Checking the nearest airport had proved utterly unhelpful. Zhan Yao hadn’t booked or taken a flight there and he didn’t show up on any of the video tapes. It was still possible he had taken a flight from another airport a city over, but Bai Yutong didn’t find that plausible. Zhan Yao was a rational and patient person, he would simply wait for a flight if it was delayed. So, he hadn’t taken a plane. What he had done, however, they could only speculate.

The only thing they were sure about was the shopping he had done before vanishing. And it didn’t make sense either. Why would his cat buy so much food? Shaking his head, he took a sip of coffee. Food. Music. He wouldn't have use for a CD, Bai Yutong pondered, because for all his old-fashioned antics, he didn't actually own a portable CD player. So, he had bought food he couldn't eat, and music he couldn't listen to, unless…

Unless.

“I got it!”

Wang Shao almost dropped his coffee mug and Zhao Fu startled out of his seat at this outburst, both looking expectantly at him. “Got what?”, Zhao Fu asked.

“What the cat did. Ah, I could kick myself for not getting it sooner! It's so obvious!” The other men looked at each other and then back to their boss. “And…?”, Wang Shao prompted. “The food! The CD! It is so obvious now! He wouldn’t buy so much food for a flight when he couldn’t keep it anyway.” He looked at them, feeling almost giddy with hope.

“He rented a car.”

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 1: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

A Bite to Remember | @darmysasagiri

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1104 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Alpha, Top Cas/Bottom Dean, Mating Bites, One Night Stands Summary: Alphas can't mate Alphas, everyone knows this, or do they?

Oblivious Mates | @fangirlingtodeath513

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1984 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester,Castiel (Supernatural),Dean Winchester,Knotting,Mating Cycles/In Heat,Heat Sex,Rut Sex,A/B/O,Friends With Benefits,Consensual Somnophilia,Mating Bites,Misunderstandings,Lack of Communication,Fuckbuddies,Spooning,Cuddling & Snuggling,Naked Cuddling,True Mates,Scenting Summary: Dean and Cas have been heat/rut fuck buddies for a while now, but Dean's starting to get second thoughts. His feelings evolved a long time ago but now he's feeling guilty about holding Castiel back from finding his true mate.

Sun Warmed | @suckerfordeansfreckles

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2586 Main Tags/Warnings: alpha Cas, omega Dean, first meeting, house-sitting, a bit of voyeurism Summary: Dean is a little bitter, but only in the safety and privacy of his own head, and definitely never around his brother and his new sister-in-law. Because those two really do deserve all the happiness in the world. And just because Dean wishes for a little happiness for himself, he will not ruin their bliss. The thing that’s a little hard on Dean, lately, is that during the past few months, Sam and Eileen’s new house somehow started to feel more like home than his own apartment does. He’s not even over that much, but he feels so safe and good and happy, here. It’s a space he feels like himself in, and it’s not really the company, it feels more like the energy around their house, the amazing smell seemingly haunting Dean when he drives back home and slowly loses it. He’s not sure which flowers Eileen planted that smell this way, but he’s been meaning to ask her for months. Currently, Sam and Eileen are in Hawaii for their honeymoon and Dean gets daily selfie updates while he house-sits for them. And somehow, during all of that and while accidentally flashing a guy, he figures out where that amazing smell comes from.

Essential Services | @Imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3444 Main Tags/Warnings: Roommates, omegaverse, explicit sex, top Cas/bottom Dean, alpha Cas, Omega Dean, mating bites, quarantine, pandemic, heat/rut sex Summary: Cas has been sent home to work as an unessential service. When he arrives, he realizes his roommate Dean clearly wasn't expect him to arrive. What happens when they finally give in to each other?

Kiss Me, Kill Me | @saltnhalo

Rating: Mature Word Count: 4668 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Assassin Castiel (Supernatural), Guard Dean Winchester, Assassin Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, True Mates, Scenting, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Murder Husbands Summary: Seasoned hitman Castiel Novak is just looking to take out his target and get paid, but should've accounted for the fact that he may not be the only assassin at tonight's party... Cue the mysterious, green-eyed man who is more of a match for Castiel than anyone he's ever met.

Up On The Rooftop Greenhouse | @envydean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5017 Main Tags/Warnings: alpha!michael, omega!dean, Beta!Castiel, Arranged Marriage, truemates, defying truemates, fighting destiny, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Kisses, Wedding ceremonies, pack houses, mentions of potential abuse of power Summary: Michael Shurley is Dean Winchester's true mate. Except, Dean has been in love and dating the Winchester house gardener, Castiel Novak, for nearly three years and Dean doesn't want that to stop. He needs to find a way out of the impending wedding before it's too late, especially when Michael shows his true colours.

A Strange Place To Find Love | @navajolovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6159 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Heats, ruts. Knotting. Happy Ending Summary: The Alpha/omega Rut/heat Center was the brainchild of a ‘more progressive, more caring’ government. In reality, it was just a way to stop Alphas from jumping unmated omegas when they were in rut, and to stop unmated omegas from getting knocked up during a heat by some Alpha they picked up, then having to go on welfare because the Alpha wouldn’t pay pup support. Dean Winchester worked for the center as a willing omega. Castiel Novak decided to give it a try.

Steel and Whiskey | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6207 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Mafia AU, Mobster Castiel, Mobster Dean Winchester, Mistaken Identity, Explicit Sexual Content, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, Knotting, First Meetings, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural) Summary: When Castiel agrees to meet with the leader of the Winchester pack in the heart of his territory, he does not find the alpha he’s expecting. Instead, he meets an omega in Dean Winchester’s apartment with stunning green eyes and an alluring air of danger. Someone should have warned Castiel that the Winchester leader is not an alpha.

Just Here For A Good Night | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6646 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fraternities & Sororities, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Team Dean's Red Ass, Dom/sub Undertones, Dom Castiel, Fluff, Frat Boy Castiel Summary: In which Dean is looking to get laid at an Alpha Phi Alpha party, and sets his sights on Castiel, who's just trying to make sure that nothing bad happens on his watch.

Are You Real, Dean Winchester? | Maleyah (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7447 Main Tags/Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements (not between Dean and Cas), Mental Health Issues, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Mating Bond, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Medication, Near overdose, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hallucinations Summary: Castiel struggles to survive in a world that was never right for him to begin with. So far, he has always survived his turbulent mind... because despite everything, his broken brain, his loneliness, the never-ending struggle, he's a fighter. One night, exceptionally reckless, borderline overdosed on his meds, he wanders the streets, foregoing his self-preservation. Hoping for the end, almost finding it, unless his brain is throwing him for a loop again. ... Only to be found by Dean Winchester.

Did you get my reference? (WIP) | @spnsmile

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8918 Main Tags/Warnings: Top dean w/ bottom castiel, explicit Summary: Take Dean, most handsome CEO with very pretty face and just your typical successful Alpha who owns his own company at the age of 30. But despite popular belief, Dean has one problem he needs to solve before an international conference: he hates the smell of unmated Omegas. Come Castiel, a clumsy word-class geek literature major who appeared in front of Dean in the middle of a raging river. His scent drives Dean's instinct to bite, plus he gets rid of all other scents in the air. Now Dean only has to convince him to be his plus one. Which means having a talking encyclopedia who trips in its own legs. How can Dean protect his high-wired True Mate from other Alphas and himself?

It's A Hard Knot Life | @navajolovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10874 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Punk Castiel, Rape, Tattoos. Knotting Summary: Dean walked up the counter and his nose was filled with the scent of peticior and sandalwood. He took a deep breath. The guy never looked up. Dean cleared his throat. Nothing. He rapped his knuckles on the counter. The guy didn’t look up, but he said, in a gravelly voice that gave Dean shivers, “Yeah?” “I was wondering if you had the latest CD by St Paul and the Broken Bones?” The guy looked up and Dean found himself looking into eyes so blue, he didn’t have a name for the color. The black eyeliner just accentuated their color. “We have a system here for finding things. It’s called alphabetically, you may have heard of it? That means the S’s are right between the R’s and the T’s.” Then he went right back to reading his book.

Black Rose Tattoo | @navajolovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10989 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Tattoo Artist Castiel (Supernatural), Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor. Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, Pups, Dean is demisexual Summary: Dean heard the motorcycle before he saw it. He looked out the big front window of his shop, and waited until the cycle appeared. He watched the Alpha pull to the curb, stop the bike, get off and take off his helmet. He’d watched the same scene every day since he’d opened the flower shop next to the tattoo parlor. The Alpha shook his perpetually messy hair and walked to open his shop, out of Dean’s view. Dean sighed and went back to work.

Palaces of Rome (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 11291 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester/Alpha Gabriel, Alpha/Alpha pairing, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Gabriel Summary: Despite his size and his father's expectations, Dean presented as an omega. Infertile, male omegas have no rights in Rome, so John arranges to sell him to the son of the Emperor in an attempt to provide his alpha son, Sam, a better life. Sam joins the army under General Gabriel's expert tutelage, swearing to become a warrior famous enough to buy his brother back. Dean accepts his place in the prince's harem, but he's about to stumble upon the biggest secret in Rome, one that has kept hundreds of thousands of male omegas enslaved for almost eight hundred years. The secret will either push Rome into an age of peace and prosperity or it will shatter one of the greatest empires in the ancient world.

Something Dark | kradarua (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16466 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink, Rough Sex, Rimming, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Thief Dean Winchester, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Castiel, Dark Sam Winchester, Dark Charlie Bradbury, Possessive Dean Winchester, Illegal Activities, Torture, Sexual Slavery, Murder Husbands, Killer Castiel, Killer Dean Winchester, Top Dean/Bottom Castiel Summary: Castiel looked even wilder in person. Dean let his eyes roam over his (now fully clothed) form, smiling appreciatively. He inhaled deeply, curious to find no real trace of a scent. “He’s on scent blockers,” the employee explained. ""Running this auction is involved enough without having to settle claim disputes if an omega’s scent triggers some alpha’s rut.” That suited him fine; both he and Sam were on scent blockers most of the time and he’d planned on requiring that Castiel stay on them too. It helped with anonymity. “Thank you,” he said, “That will be all.” The employee gave a small bow and left to service the other high bidders. “Well, Cas,” Dean said cheerily, “Let’s go home.”

Porn and Peonies | @navajlovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20865 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe Alpha/Omega, Porn Star Dean Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, Mating, Switching Summary: When Cas accidentally meets his favorite porn star, Dean Smith, he's thrilled. He never expects what comes next with Dean Winchester, Alpha to his omega.

Mulanatural (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 33385 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Beta Adam Milligan, Mulan (Disney) Summary: Dean Winchester is possibly the worst omega in his town; he's too big, too strong, and way too dominant. When the Matchmaker rejects his suit for a mate and the Huns invade China, he has to pretend to be an alpha to save his brother's life, but he may well lose his own in the process. Worse, he may dishonor his whole family.

A Symphony of Flavors | @wargurl83

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 43223 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chefs, Minor Character Death (offscreen) - Freeform, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Verse, thar be smut here, Top Cas/Bottom Dean Summary: Master Chef Castiel Novak likes his life ordered. Controlled. Sensible. He's an Alpha with no mate and no hope of finding one. His life is turned upside down with the death of his sister and taking guardianship of his nine-year-old niece, Claire. Add to that, there's a new sous chef taking up space in his very orderly kitchen with his loud music and brash attitude, and for some reason Castiel just can't take his eyes off him. Dean Winchester loves to cook, love his mom, and loves kids. His goal has been to work with Chef Novak for as long as he's been in Kansas City. What he wasn’t prepared for was an Alpha all of his own…

The Nuances of Pack Politics (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 72679 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - High School, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, ,Alpha Sam Winchester, Omega Gabriel Summary: Castiel and Gabriel Novak are having a hard time fitting into their new school, constantly harassed by older alphas now that they have lost the familiar protection of their own brothers. The Pack, a group that claims to welcome and protect omegas at their high school, may offer them a chance to change all of that, as long as they can get in.

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices | @carrieosity

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 81039 Main Tags/Warnings: Humor and Fluff, Pining, Self-improvement, Self-worth issues, Comedy, Awkward Flirting, Mating, Sexual Harassment, Threatened Non-Con (brief), Healthy Relationships Summary: Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine. When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making ""grown-up choices,"" and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

Celestial War (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 151571 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean/Omega Castiel, Alpha Sam/Omega Gabriel, Alpha Crowley/Omega Balthazar, Mating Cycles/In Heat Summary: The three tribes--Celestial, Wilderness, and Spellbound--have been at an uneasy stalemate for generations, but a prophecy about four omegas could bring about a full-scale war that will destroy them all.

don't care where you've been (WIP) | @thanks-tacos

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 240842 Main Tags/Warnings: Omega Dean, Alpha Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Past Rape/Non-con, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Arranged Marriage, Abused Dean Winchester, Caring Castiel, Happy Ending, full tag list in the fic Summary: Dean's life is finally changing. After years of enduring Alastair's abuse, the alpha dies and Dean's married off to the next alpha the system pairs him with - Castiel. The man is strange and distant, but not exactly bad, and Dean's determined to be on his best behavior and not mess up the chance he was given. Soon enough, though, he fucks up anyway and has to call the alpha for help. Castiel's lived his entire life without an omega by his side, and he was fine with that. He doesn't know how to proceed once he's suddenly married to a beautiful man who's obviously been through a lot. Omegas were always a confusing subject to him, so he tries not to interfere much - neither of them is there by their choice. But when Dean calls for help, he understands he's going to have to set some things straight and engage more.

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @littlelonghairedoutlaw​

This year, the Christmas Season begins on 28 November.

That is the day Erik meets Doctor MacAndréis from the Department of Modern Irish leaving Costa with a Terry’s chocolate orange latte in one hand, and a miniature Christmas tree in the other.

Erik considers it best not to ask any questions.

MacAndréis gives him that grin he wears with just a touch of mischief, and winks behind his glasses. Then he is gone, and if it was anyone else then Erik might almost think he was hallucinating. But MacAndréis is MacAndréis, and is merely an eccentric like himself, and so this encounter is the thing that encourages him to finally cave and order himself a black forest hot chocolate.

He’s been putting this day off for weeks, but if MacAndréis has acquired a tiny Christmas tree, then it’s time to concede to the season.

Clíodhna will be delighted to hear it.

(He suspects she has her letter to Santa half-written already.)

*

The day Erik sits down on the couch and pulls Clíodhna onto his lap to ask her what she wants from Santa, it is 30 November and Christine has only just gotten Andriú settled in for his nap. He has just turned eight months old, and is sleeping better than he was, but she will not have him disturbed for the evening, so when Clíodhna comes rushing up to her, “Mammy, Mammy! Daddy says I can write my Santy letter!” Christine shushes her little girl so she will not accidentally wake her brother.

“Can I, Mammy?” she whispers, and it’s a loud whisper but Christine doesn’t have the heart to shush her again. She looks to Erik, still sitting on the couch, as if he is not the one who has just caused their daughter’s rush of excitement, and finds him nodding vigorously, so she turns her attention back to Clíodhna, and nods.

“You can,” she whispers, and Clíodhna grins, her blue eyes bright and shining, before she throws her arms around Christine’s legs and hugs her.

And then there is paper, and pens, and a very enthusiastic five-year-old sitting in her lap and demanding for words to be spelled.

Erik kisses her forehead, before he goes to put the kettle on.

“I met MacAndréis with a Christmas tree,” he says, as if that is the most sensible explanation in the world.

*

“And are you going to ask Santa to bring something for Andriú?”

“A dinosaur!”

The effort not to laugh. “I think Andriú is a bit small for a dinosaur.”

*

There is, as far as Erik is concerned, nothing quite like the experience of hearing ‘Daidí na Nollag’ sung by a five-year-old as she winds silver tinsel around a miniature tree.

He is not saying it out of any sort of bias, but Clíodhna is an excellent little singer.

He adjusts his grip on Andriú, who has somehow fallen asleep against his chest, even with the singing, and shushes her slightly. “And where are the réaltaí?” he asks, and Clíodhna points to the sky. “Sa spéir!”

Christine is shopping, and it is his noble duty as babysitter to look after both the sproggle in his arms and the beanie sprout who insists she is “practicing for my play!” with her bouncing dark curls.

She is an angel this year, not Mary, but she is determined to sing every song as if she were the star of the show.

“What about ‘Silent Night’ next?” something quieter than another thrilling rendition of ‘Daidí na Nollag’.

She bobs her head, and finds a small star to set on top of the little tree.

“Siii-lent night…”

*

When Christine gets home she finds Erik asleep on the floor, Andriú asleep on his chest and Clíodhna tucked in asleep beneath his arm. The floor is littered with tinsel and baubles, and there are two small trees sitting decorated on the coffee table. Christine snaps a photo of her husband and their babies, and then stoops down and gently scoops Andriú out of his arms. Erik snuffles, his eyes flickering open. “Are you long back?” His voice is groggy.

She smiles. “Only just. Wake up a bit, and I’ll put the kettle boiling.”

Time enough, later, to smuggle in the surprise she has gotten him, hidden deep in the car.

It’s a present for both of them, and she can hardly wait for the day to arrive that she’ll give it to him.

*

It is 5 December when he meets Éilis ní Cuana for tea. Éilis is MacAndréis’ wife, as far as Erik knows, but at this point he’s a little embarrassed to ask. MacAndréis wears two wedding rings and refers in equal terms to his wife (Éilis) and his husband (Seán MacAlisdair), and while Erik is certain that the man cannot legally be married to both of them, he’s reasonably (about 95%) certain that it’s a polyamorous relationship, like what John Henry has with Kate and Morgan, and that’s good enough for him.

Erik meets Éilis, today, for two reasons. The first is that she’s writing a hybrid-play about Terence MacSwiney, and he has been working on a score for it since the summer. This has involved not only reading what she has written of the play, but also making several trips to Dublin to read MacSwiney’s letters (the man’s handwriting was devilish) and raiding Christine’s collection of books for Items of Interest. This increased familiarity with Christine’s collection of books is the second reason he is meeting Éilis – he has no idea what to get his wife for Christmas.

This is their sixteenth Christmas. He feels like he ran out of good gift ideas years ago.

Fortunately, Éilis is a librarian and an archivist. She is a woman who Knows Things, and if his theory is right about the relationship she has with MacAndréis and MacAlisdair, then so much the better. MacAlisdair is a medical historian, and while Christine is a political historian, that means Erik and Éilis have something in common. Namely, loving people who make whole fields of study out of areas that seem boring to most.

(He has never found Christine’s work boring, never mind half the time he can hardly keep up with her.)

Éilis unwraps a ginger biscuit. “What’s her topic at the minute?”

“Underground resistance against authoritative regimes in twentieth-century Europe.”

Éilis blinks slowly. “And I thought listening to the prevalence of chloroform addiction among nineteenth-century doctors was a fun time.”

Erik almost chokes on his tea.

*

“You could get him a replica chloroform bottle...”

“You could get her a necklace with No Pasarán…”

*

How Andriú sleeps through their laughter Erik will never know.

*

Meanwhile Christine is in Tower Records on O’Connell Street, trying to decide what to get Erik for Christmas. She has expert assistance in the form of Clíodhna, who is very adamant that what “daddy would want” is an album of Christmas songs in Irish. Christine suspects her wayward daughter picked it because it has ‘Daidí na Nollag’ on it.

Considering Christine herself is tempted to buy him a vinyl of old rebel songs to tease him about his new interest in Terence MacSwiney, she is not sure she can comment.

Besides, the Secret Surprise she has gotten him will do that well enough.

(A replica Irish Volunteers uniform, complete with slouch hat, and she has half a mind to give it to him on Christmas Eve, when Clíodhna and Andriú are tucked up in bed.)

(“For inspiration,” she will say, “while you’re composing,” and she will kiss his cheek and he will go off and change into it, and when he comes back her throat will be dry at the sight of him in those high boots, that coat, the hat tilted low over his eyes, and there will be a touch of mischief about him as he will ask, “Are you going to search me for weapons?”)

She’s fairly certain he has all the music he actually wants, so she’s not sure why she came in here except that she always likes to when she’s present-hunting. That, and she wanted to show Clíodhna around. Clíodhna has gotten very interested in music lately and Christine has half-decided to start her on tin whistle lessons in the New Year. Christine didn’t tell her where they were going, only that they were “shopping for Daddy”, and when Clíodhna realised they were in a shop full of vinyls and retro tapes and cds and posters, she was struck silent for the first few moments, her little hand holding on tight to Christine’s own.

“Is this a real shop?” she whispered, and Christine nodded and grinned down at her.

“It is. And it’s Daddy’s favourite shop.”

And Clíodhna shrieked so loudly it almost blew out Christine’s eardrum.

She is resigned, now, that she will not find Erik’s present here, but no matter. Clíodhna is delighted with the place, and that is enough for Christine.

“Do you want to get Daddy that album?” she asks, and Clíodhna nods.

“Yes!”

*

Clíodhna is sworn to secrecy about her “present for Daddy”, and also about the vinyl of Taylor Swift’s folklore that Christine decides on a whim to get him. And when they go to a toy shop, Clíodhna comes back with a small reindeer teddy.

“For Andriú!” she says, and Christine’s heart swells.

*

They have dinner that Sunday with Lilly, and afterwards Erik plays with Andriú on the floor, rolling a ball to him for him to roll back, before Andriú takes a fit of giggling and tries to crawl away. He’s gotten to be an active little thing, and the next time Erik rolls the ball to him he throws it at the couch. Christine snorts watching the two of them, but if Erik notices he doesn’t show it, doesn’t even look away from Andriú as he reaches behind him for a second ball. That one, too, gets flung at the couch, and Lilly is grinning while she spoons the Christmas cake mixture into a tin. Clíodhna is watching very intently, singing ‘Away in a Manger’ to herself, and when Lilly almost has the bowl empty, she hands both bowl and spoon to her. “Do you think you can clean the last of it out, Madame?”

“Yes, Nan!”

The mixture ends up on her hands and her sleeves and in her hair, but she’s laughing as she scrapes the spoon along the side of the bowl, and the smell of the cakes is warm in the air, settling in Christine’s chest.

Warm, and safe, and like every Christmas she can ever remember, the evening dark and the windows fogged up, the echo of her father playing his violin… And it’s been more than twenty-two years, but the smell of Christmas cakes always reminds her of him, and she wonders will it be something that Clíodhna remembers, in the far-distant future, an evening like this, and the warm aroma in the air…

*

This time Erik is the one leaving Costa when he meets MacAndréis, who has a sprig of holly behind his ear and a gold ribbon tied around his wrist. And the man must be in his mid-thirties, but he seems younger and younger every time Erik sees him and this time is no different. He earns himself one of those bright grins and, “the new recording sounds great”, and he’d stop to ask more about what MacAndréis thought of the latest piece for Éilis’ project, but he’s due to meet Nadir in his office to go over his will. The annual updating, and it helps to have a barrister for a best friend, who can tweak these things without any hassle.

Not that there’s much to change in it this time, because he updated it in the spring when Andriú was born, but he likes to be sure everything is just so. It’s a little bit of peace, to not have to worry about that. Nadir has scheduled him in for an hour, and it’s a chance to have a chat as much as anything. They’ve both been so busy lately, between Nadir’s cases and with his lecturing and this play, never mind the full-time job of being a father, and Nadir knows about that too with little Aisha, and this is as good an excuse as any to settle in and have a cup of tea with him.

It sounds ridiculous, but he’s been looking forward to updating his will for weeks.

Next time he’ll talk to MacAndréis. Next time.

*

Two days later the weather is what Christine calls “Jack the Ripper fog”, and when Clíodhna gets home from school it seems as good a time as any to put up the proper Christmas tree. It feels more like November than December, but it is definitely December, and Erik settles at the piano, playing softly, while Clíodhna sorts the baubles and Andriú naps upstairs. The baby monitor is turned up and sitting beside Erik on the piano bench, in case the baby wakes, but all is quiet from upstairs and Christine hums along with the melody while she fixes the lights into place on the higher branches.

Last year, they didn’t put any angel onto the top of the tree. She was six months along with Andriú, and Erik was still recovering from the emergency surgery on his aorta, and they both decided it was safer if neither of them stretched to the top of the tree. This year he could put the angel on himself, or lift Clíodhna up to do it, but even though he had a clear scan only a month ago it still feels like too much to risk, so Christine scoops up Clíodhna and lifts her, and her daughter is heavier than she looks, but she fixes the angel into place and Christine sets her down again before her arms buckle.

“You’re getting big,” she says, and Clíodhna beams.

*

They’re promised snow, but all they get is grey slush, and this time it is Erik’s turn to take Clíodhna present-hunting. He still has not decided what to get Christine for Christmas, but he takes Clíodhna with him into the bookshop, and watches as she makes a beeline for the first book she sees with a cow on it.

“This, Daddy?”

Christine? Reading a book about cows? He almost wants to see it, but he shakes his head. “Maybe we’ll get that one for Uncle Al.”

And Clíodhna needs no more encouragement to push the book into his hand. “Hold.”

“All right, my lady.”

*

They come away with a book of photos of notable sculptures, and he’s beginning to think he might need to experiment more with presents.

At least it’s not another collection of Tennyson.

(There’s also a cloth book with different fabrics and pages that make music, for Andriú, and Clíodhna is pleased with herself for finding it.)

*

By the eleventhh it still doesn’t feel like Christmas but things are distinctly more festive than they were. Nadir and John Henry between them hung a string of lights along the gutter so Erik wouldn’t have to climb the ladder, and with the Christmas tree set up (and the two little ones) and paper snowflakes that Clíodhna made in school, the house is at least decorated. Lilly has supplied them with a Christmas cake, and Erik’s mother Marina has promised them a Christmas pudding when she arrives closer to the day itself. Uncle Al has sent them a box of mince pies that a “good friend” of his made, and Erik suspects that his dear old uncle has found himself a boyfriend that he’s keeping under wraps. Erik would die of embarrassment if he suggested it to him, but he mentions it to John Henry who laughs and claps and says, “good on the old man”, and Erik knows Al will be bombarded with questions when he, too, arrives at Christmas.

They haven’t made it down to Sligo since the Halloween midterm, but Erik knows Clíodhna is excited to see her granny and granduncle and “grandad Bill” again.

(It will never not be wild for Erik to hear his stepfather called “grandad Bill.”)

*

It is when Christine is having coffee with Seán MacAlisdair that it occurs to her what might be nice to get Erik for Christmas.

She had questions for MacAlisdair about how bullet wounds might be treated by fugitives in the 1920s, and as he wrote out some suggestions of sources to check he mentioned offhand that he had gotten a pocket watch for “Ruairí”. It took her just a moment to remember that Ruairí is in fact MacAndréis, and by then MacAlisdair was telling her about the engraving he’d gotten put on the inside of the watch.

“I arise from dreams of thee,” he says, and smiles, “it’s his favourite Shelley poem.” And then he laughs. “I’d have had it translated into Irish for him but I was afraid it would lose its cadence.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted with it.”

“I reckon he will. And there was a dealer selling original newspapers from October 1920, so I got them for Éilis…”

And she lets him talk, but all the times she’s wondering what sort of engraving she could get put on a pocket watch.

*

On the day that Erik and Christine head to Dublin to get gifts for Clíodhna and Andriú, the “Santa gifts”, John Henry and Kate are left in charge of the “two beans” as John Henry calls them. Morgan is delayed at a conference in London, but he’ll be home in a few days, and Erik intends to pick out a fancy bottle of wine for him.

In hindsight, perhaps it would have been better not to have left the shopping until the two weeks before the day itself, but it’s never felt right to Erik to start Christmas shopping in November and frankly he isn’t keen on how terribly capitalistic the whole holiday has become. He knows Christine feels the same, and that’s why they prefer to buy Irish-made from small businesses as opposed to anything else. There are only so many places around Maynooth, and to be fair they do have a few nice bits gathered up, and so the trip to Dublin is to put the finishing touches to the gift gathering, and to spend the day with each other, without a wriggling eight-and-a-half month old and an excitable five year old. And there are crowds of people but it’s quiet, walking down the street holding Christine’s hand, the faint touch of frost on his nose, her fingers warm threaded through his.

They stop for hot chocolate, with cream and cinnamon, and he kisses the taste of it off her lips as she smiles into his mouth, and it’s almost like they are students again, hardly knowing each other, only knowing that there was something there, something different than there had been before, and she smooths her fingers over the back of his hand and sighs.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice low, and she shrugs.

“Nothing in particular,” but still she’s smiling, and this time she presses the kiss to the bad half of his cheek, and he cannot feel it beneath the mask.

(The mask is warmer than the make-up, in cold weather like this.)

*

Clíodhna and Andriú are both asleep by the time they get home, tucked into bed, and John Henry is asleep too on the couch, a blanket thrown over him. It’s not all that late, but Kate is the one sitting up waiting for them, and she smiles when they finally walk in the door.

“Did you have a good day?” she asks, and Erik nods.

“Very.”

*

(When Christine is out of earshot, he has half a mind to ask her what she got John Henry and Morgan for Christmas, but he is almost afraid of the answer.)

*

They set up a little Nativity scene near the tree, with the three wisemen and two shepherdesses (who Christine has named Meg and Jammes, and who she has decided are lesbians), and a whole collection of little sheep. There’s the traditional cow and donkey, and Joseph and Mary, and the little manger is left empty but when Clíodhna sees it her eyes widen.

“Can we put Andriú in the manger?”

Erik snorts. “I think he might be a bit big.”

(Andriú is mesmerised every time they turn on the Christmas lights, and could stare at them for hours. It’s bad for his eyes, so they only light it up sparingly.)

*

It’s the sixteenth by the time Erik finally sits down with MacAndréis in Costa. They have ridiculously expensive fajitas, and Erik goes for tea while MacAndréis has coffee. This time the man is dressed all in black which brings out how dark his eyes are, and if Erik were not happily married and very in love with Christine he might almost be attracted to MacAndréis, but as it is he can look at him and appreciate that he is a very fine looking man.

And it’s okay to say that, because Christine has said the same.

MacAndréis’ wedding rings shine bright on his left hand, and Erik might almost ask, but even now he hardly knows how to form the words. So instead he asks what he thinks of the music for Éilis’ project, and MacAndréis grins.

“That last one you did, ‘Bromyard’, for the wedding scene, I keep listening to it on repeat.”

Erik smiles. “I’m one of the pieces I’m happiest with so far.” I was thinking of my own wedding when I composed it, he thinks but does not say.

“It’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, actually. She wants me to write a section as Gaeilge, and I was wondering if it would be a problem for you trying to score it. I’m not sure what your Irish is like and I don’t want to put you under pressure trying to get the meaning across. Like I could write out a translation for you if you want, to try and get the music right. It’s what she wants but that doesn’t mean we have to do it if it’s too awkward or anything…”

And it’s only then that Erik realises that MacAndréis is nervous. Nervous! Talking to him! This man who swans around the place as if nothing could touch him, giving off so much queer energy he could nearly put John Henry to shame, and he’s nervous!

It’s—it’s extraordinary.

“I—” Erik sips his tea and swallows. “Whichever would be handiest for you. If you want to write a translation then—then go ahead.” The thought! That anyone could be nervous of him.

He’s hardly that terrifying looking, even with the mask.

MacAndréis blinks, and grins. “Ah grand!” And laughs, “I know nothing about writing plays! Or music for that matter.” He nods at the cup in Erik’s hands. “Let me get you more tea.”

And like that, Erik knows he was daft to be worrying about his face.

(Old habits die hard.)

*

Christine collects the watch from the jewellers’ and it’s perfect. An ornate floral design on the outside, and when she opens it the engraving is inside the lid.

“Between the past and future tense”

16 Christmases

She closes it and tucks it into her pocket.

There’s a perfect place in the wardrobe to hide it.

*

They take Clíodhna to see Santa, and the whole way she tries to persuade them for Andriú to see him too. Erik has to tell her that Andriú is far too small, and she pouts a bit and grumbles.

“He’s always too small.” But then she brightens. “Can I ask for a present for him?”

Christine winks at Erik, then smiles down at her. “You absolutely can.”

* Clíodhna gets shy as they reach the head of the queue, and holds on tighter to Erik’s hand. It’s strange, with how excited she’s been, but Erik supposes it was bound to hit sometime. Christine is pushing the buggy and Andriú is asleep, wrapped up in his coat and blanket and hat, and Erik wonders if maybe that was why she was asking if Andriú could see Santa too, so she’d be less nervous.

He wants to scoop her up and hug her, his condition bedamned, but they’re through the door now into the grotto and Christine is right behind them with the buggy. Clíodhna’s hand slips from his and she rushes for Santa, who’s a black woman this year (they’ve explained to Clíodhna that Santa sends his helpers around to visit children for him and they’ll send the messages back to him because he’s too busy looking after the young reindeer), and all her shyness is forgotten when she starts chattering that she “wants a dinosaur and a cow and a baby reindeer and some books and a guitar and a surprise” and that she wants “a nice teddy for Andriú because Daddy keeps saying he’s too small for anything else.” Erik nearly chokes, and Christine is fighting a grin, and then there are two little packages pressed into Clíodhna’s hand, one for her and one for Andriú, and she is jumping off “Santa’s” knee, a wild ball of energy again.

He missed the photo being taken of her, the instant camera, but it is given to him then and of a sudden it strikes him what would be perfect to get for Christine.

She loves taking photos.

*

There’s a dress to buy and some fairy wings, for Clíodhna to make the best little angel. The dress is white and patterned with flowers, and while most of the girls will be going for plainer dresses, Clíódhna is insistent that this is “the best one, Mammy”. Erik grins at Christine and takes the buggy, telling her he’s just bringing Andriú for a walk, but she knows that look in his eye and knows there’s some sort of mischief afoot. No matter. It leaves her to focus on Clíodhna and her big pleading eyes.

“Okay, honey, we’ll get the dress.”

*

Luckily for Erik he knows exactly where to find a Polaroid camera. He cannot count how many times he has passed them on the stand in the pharmacy when he’s picking up his prescriptions. The Polaroid cameras, the instant film, and it is the work of minutes to pick out a nice small blue camera for Christine, and several boxes of film, both colour and black and white. Andriú is still asleep as he wheels the buggy up to the counter, and after he pays he secrets the boxes of film deep in the pockets of his coat. The camera itself he stashes in the pouch in the back of the buggy, and a mere seven minutes after leaving Christine picking through dresses his mission is accomplished.

(He does not know it yet, but the first photograph she will take will be of him on Christmas morning, wrapped in his dressing gown and wearing the hat from the uniform she will have given him, tilted at a rakish angle. His arms will be full of Andriú, shredding wrapping paper between his baby fingers, and he will not even know she has taken it, until he sees it, pinned to the fridge, and he will marvel at the fact that he looks almost handsome.)

(How she sees him, rendered in an image, perfect.)

He turns the buggy around, feeling inordinately pleased with himself, and wheels it back out in the shopping centre, with the good intention of going back to Christine and Clíodhna and seeing how they are getting on. The good intention, that is, until he wheels Andriú past the jewellers’, and out of the corner of his eye a shine of gold catches his attention.

He stops, and looks, and there it is. A gold necklace, with an ornate Celtic cross.

Christine absolutely deserves two presents for putting up with him.

*

“Are you going to search me for weapons?” he will ask, wearing the uniform for the first time, and she will get that gleam in her eye and he will know that she got him the uniform less as inspiration for him and more because she wanted to see him in it, and when her hand reaches into his pocket, she will pull out the necklace, and cock a brow at him.

“I think we need to search each other very thoroughly,” she will say, and grin.

*

When Erik returns to their side with Andriú and the buggy, Christine and Clíodhna are just leaving the shop. Erik’s grin is bright, and she knows he’s done something, but she knows him well enough by now to know it’s best not to ask him what that something might be. Instead she kisses his cheek, and takes back over the buggy, and listens as Clíodhna tells him all about the dress.

*

There is just a week, now, until Christmas. A week, and this week is taken up with all the last preparations. The winding up of the university semester, and Christine is still on leave so she doesn’t have to worry about that but Erik is busy organising his research students and the work they need to do over the break. Clíodhna’s upcoming play results in much singing of ‘Daidí na Nollag’ around the house, to the extent where Andriú is even gurgling along with it. Erik has completed the draft of another piece of music for Éilis’ play, and this one he calls ‘The Third Arrest’. And on top of all of this there’s the wrapping and planning that needs to be done.

Christine has designated herself the Santa Gift Wrapper this year, and her office is kept locked so Clíodhna will not find her in the middle of it. To entertain Clíodhna for a little while one evening, Erik sits her on his lap while he works in his office, and together they wrap the gifts they picked out for Christine and Andriú. He has both the camera and the necklace hidden away to do in his own time, but they do the books they bought them, and while he folds the wrapping paper into place, she cuts the tape with a safety scissors, and chatters happily in his ear.

“And what is this called in Irish?” he asks, to keep her on a flow.

“It’s a leabhar, Daddy.”

“Yes, that’s a book but what is it if it’s a present?”

“It’s a bronntanas!”

“Yes, okay, you get a sweet…”

And then he delegates her to carry the presents out to under the tree, where they will sit beside the ones Christine has already wrapped for him, and the ones that John Henry and Kate brought (and Morgan when he came home), and the ones from Nadir and Michelle and Lilly. A gathering of presents under the tree, and still the Santa ones to be added and the ones from his mother and Uncle Al and Bill. Every so often he catches Clíodhna sitting close beside the pile, as if staring at it long enough will reveal all its secrets to her, but she knows she must wait until Christmas Day before she is allowed to open anything.

What will it be like keeping Andriú out of trouble too, when he is old enough to have learned about these things?

Erik is not sure he wants to think about it yet.

*

It’s a damp day when Marina, Al, and Bill arrive from Sligo. They’ll be staying with Lilly – an idea that Marina and Lilly cooked up between them – and Christine will admit she’s a little relieved not to have to find space for them in the house.  She has not told Erik that, but she suspects he feels the same. For all that he’s delighted to see his mother and uncle and stepfather, he still hasn’t regained all the stamina he lost when he was so ill last year.

She prefers not to dwell on thoughts of it.

But there are hugs, and presents added beneath the tree, and the promised Christmas pudding, and Andriú is content to sit in Al’s lap and babble while Clíodhna does a “dress rehearsal” of the songs for her play.

There are five days, now, until Christmas, and tomorrow is the big day.

Clíodhna is so excited that it takes an hour of Marina telling her stories for her to fall asleep.

“She’s just like Erik at that age,” Al says, and Erik flushes to the tips of his ears.

*

And the next day Clíodhna makes an excellent angel, not that Erik is biased at all. He records the performance on his phone to remind her of it in years to come, and even with the round of applause at the end for all these little children, the highlight for Clíodhna is the bag of jellies she gets, and the fact that Christine lets her eat them then instead of saving them until Christmas Day like so much else.

Oh to be five years old and so easily entertained again!

Erik makes her hot chocolate as a treat, with cream and marshmallows, and tries not to laugh at how meticulous she is, scooping out each tiny marshmallow as it melts.

(A handful of hours later she falls asleep on the couch watching Shrek, and he watches as Christine turns off the television, and carefully picks her up, and carries her to bed.)

(These are the moments he will always remember.)

*

There is not even the promise of snow this year. Just rain and more rain, and two days before Christmas a storm comes so bad that the electricity is knocked out.

Andriú is crawling on the floor when it happens, and lets out a startled little yelp at the sudden darkness. Erik finds him with the light of his phone, and scoops him up, his little face damp with tears tucked in against his neck. And he shushes him, and whispers to him, and rocks him, and Clíodhna cuddles close, her eyes wide and worried, as they listen to the wind howling outside, and Christine rummaging for candles.

“Found them!”

They’re battery-operated for safety, and she carries them into the sitting room, and sets them up on the table, and in the soft glow they create Erik passes Andriú over to Christine, and pushes himself to his feet.

If they can’t have anything else in the darkness, they can at least have each other, and some music.

*

Clíodhna has wrapped herself in a blanket by the time he gets back, and he settles himself on the floor beside her, and lifts his violin out of its case. In the candlelight he checks it that it’s tuned, and Christine smiles at him, adjusting her grip on Andriú, as he takes the bow, and straightens himself.

For months he could not play it, while his chest healed from the surgery, and even now he finds the piano easier to manage, but on this night he will play for them, their own little carol service, and he is just a little rusty, but when he sets the bow to the strings, the notes come tripping back to him, familiar, and warm, and always ready.

Clíodhna tucks herself in against his side, and he closes his eyes, and lets the music come.

Tomorrow will be busy, in all the little ways that Christmas Eve is busy, but tonight they can have this.

*

(By the time the power is back, their babies are both asleep. Christine blinks her eyes open, and smiles at him, and her fingers are gentle, tucking a lock of hair back from his face.)

(He has half a mind to knock the power out every year.)

*

And then it is Christmas Eve, and Marina takes Clíodhna off their hands for a few hours, delighted to spend some time with her little granddaughter. While Christine preps the turkey to have it ready to go into the oven in the morning, and makes the breadcrumbs for the stuffing, Erik chops the vegetables, swaying slightly to the music playing off the radio. He puts them in water to preserve them, and peels the potatoes as Christine makes scones, and neither of them speak but neither of them need to, really, not then.

In the evening they take Clíodhna to Mass, and Erik is still not sure what he does or does not believe, but it doesn’t matter, not really, not when sitting there in the church with his little girl beside him he can close his eyes and feel the music around him, feel Christmases past and present and faded memories, and whatever about the symbolism of the season, whatever about the religion and the belief, maybe the thing that makes it important, the thing that gives it meaning, is the connection. The connection through time, through space, through the notes and the words and the readings, to all that is and has been and all that will be. A continuum or an ouroboros, endless, circling, moments and flashes and flickers like a web of spreading light, glowing through the darkness.

He feels it warm in his chest. The smell of pine and incense, the singing voices up in the gallery behind them, and how his lips shape the words to sing along…round yon virgin mother and child…Andriú smelling like powder, chubby in his red and green baby-gros, Clíodhna’s eyes bright as the sky, the red bow standing out in her black curls. What Christmases will she remember best, or will this be one of the first? A collection of little pieces tucked up in her head, and someday the smell of baking Christmas cakes might bring it back to her, the taste of marshmallows in hot chocolate, and he thinks of the little connections these things will make for her and wants to give her them all, to have them, and keep them safe.

He blinks his eyes open, a little damp, a little misted, and sees her watching the circle of Advent candles at the altar, and hopes that whatever she might one day believe, that she will always have these memories to look back on, and fill her with warmth.

Christine’s fingers are slender, threading between his, and he squeezes her hand.

The brush of her thumb is soft, and filled with promise.

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

“He didn’t like to stand out. However, his legs made him look fast so he would get chosen for the class competition relay. But as he didn’t want to draw any attention, he would purposely take a longer time running in P.E. class. “

Notes before reading: This is from Kaoru’s first book “Dokugen” in which his articles from “Ongaku to hito” magazine were compiled, but also an exclusive interview about his life was included. I already posted the first pages of this interview for Kaoru’s birthday  (pages 62-66) and you can read it here. This second part starts with his high school days, getting into metal music, HIDE and first music steps and bands. If you own the book, these pages are 66-75, if you don’t, you should consider getting it *wink wink* -You were a free and uncontrolled boy, right? K: That’s it. Somehow, I felt like I just liked to be where everyone else was. Rather than being an active part of the group, I would just follow it.  It was kind of like floating around. The so-called ego woke up in my body once I entered high school. I started to be my own self. -So, what about high school days? K: I was going to a high school near my house but,  until I went to get the application for the examination, I was like “is a place like this a high school?”, it  was a school that looked like a vocational school. Later, when I went to take the exam, even though it was a high school entrance examination, there was calculation, I remember doing the exam while thinking “if I fail this, I’m really a useless guy”. I was really nervous when I went to see the results days later. But even if I thought “It’s good that my name is there!”*  and I went to the school thinking “I’m a useless guy for sure!” when I was asked by a homeroom teacher “how was it, how was it” and I said “I passed”, they would say “Congratulations!” (laughs) As I feel embarrassed, I felt like “please stop!!”. *Often in Japan, if you name appears on a list of exam results, it means you passed, if your name is not there, it means you have failed. -What kind of school was it? K: It was really a hopeless high school. Bad punk guys, people with bad conditions or that couldn’t take middle school classes properly…. there were only that kind of people. When I was in middle school, I played sports, when I entered high school, there were many people who just gave up about their future.  The topics when they gathered were about girls, television, Idol clothes or hairstyles…that were the main topics of conversation. After that, as expected, as there were a lot of punks, there were guys that would bring to school knuckle dusters (a weapon attached to your fist). The first time it felt like saying “there are embarrassing guys” but gradually everyone started to feel similar(laughs) -Did you feel like you were deteriorating for being in such a place? K: Well, I was thinking about what I would do after that.  There were plenty of negative things too. I could no longer meet my acquaintances from middle school…. But gradually I started to open my eyes to bands, then I started to think that that was the only thing I had left. -Unexpectedly, the reason of that was because you found about “X” (X Japan), right? K: Yes. X debuted when I was in my first year of high school, so I listened to “Blue Blood”. Originally, when I was in my 3rd year of middle school, a transferred student came, he was a lot into metal and listened to various bands. Until then, if someone said metal, I only knew Seikima-II (laughs). Because of this person’s influence, I started listening to X’s “Vanishing vision”, DEAD END and Kinniku Shōjo Tai. However, I didn’t think about buying CDs myself, I was satisfied with the tapes that person dubbed for me. But with “Blue Blood”, I went expressly to the store to make a reservation and buy it. -Is that so? K: When I was back from school, I went to buy it. At an electronic chain stored called “Seidensha” I bought it and I got a poster too. Also, there was a rock flower ( a toy that moves as response to sounds) with the faces of the members of X at the store and I wanted it, but as one would expect, I didn’t get it (laughs) -Making a reservation and buying… that means that your expectations were high. K: That’s true. I never have booked anything besides Nintendo games. (laughs) -What do you think that motivated you to that point? K: Probably it’s connected with what we have talked about until now but, since long time ago, I have this tendency, I like to hang out with people and I also feel like I want to know what that people like. If someone says “this is interesting”, I honestly think “I’m going to try it too!” It’s like I’m trying to understand what people says it’s interesting. Maybe it’s because I like the other person, or I think “I want to get along with this guy”. I want to understand more about the other person. So, as I was good friends with this transferred student, I wanted to understand the things that he said that were “good”. -As if it was a recommendation…. K: The band that this guy said that was cool was about to debut soon. Then I should buy that too. Maybe that’s what I thought. -If you think about that, his existence is quite important, right? K: That’s true. If this guy didn’t exist, I wouldn’t be what I am now. Anyway, Hide looked like nothing but a ghost/spectre. “This person is hella cool….” I thought. He doesn’t look human. From that moment, I only could see Hide. -So, “Blue Blood” caused a huge impact on you.  Can you remember that moment? K: Of course. I came back home, with my uniform still on, I listened to it on the radio cassette. I had goose bumps all the time. Then, I was like “what a……”. Anyway, I listened to it all day at home and the next day I went to school and I “propagate*” it to everyone. I let the guys from my class listen to it. *Kaoru says “布教” which means propagation (e.g. a religion); proselytizing; missionary work. -You acted fast, right? (laughs) K: From that moment, I started buying magazines, I would cut the articles of X and put them in plastic sheet. Then, a guy said to me “Eh? I don’t listen to this band” but he liked ZIGGY, so I said, “X is a bit different”. There was a guy who covered BOOWY songs… I was “attacking” people, one after another. -This is the most active story I have heard until now (laughs) K: For sure! I would bring the videos I bought to that guy’s house and I would show him the magazines too.  The next day, I would tell another guy “Today we are going to hang out at your house” …. that kind of things. -So, your music friends increased…. K: That’s it. Then, from that moment I started playing guitar. -Why guitar? K: As one would expect, it was for HIDE.  I wasn’t really interested in guitar as an instrument until I saw a X Live. I thought that Hotei’s guitar strumming was cool though. I became obsessed with HIDE right after “BLUE BLOOD” was released, at the concert held in the medium hall of Kōsei Nenkin Kaikan in Osaka. It was my first-time watching X, my seat was at the back of the first floor, but as it was the medium hall, the stage was very close. Then, my eyes met TOSHI many times, it was like “he is pointing at me!” (laughs). Anyway, HIDE looked like nothing but a ghost/spectre. “This person is so hella cool……”. He didn’t look human. From that moment, I only could see HIDE. -So, you thought “I want to be like HIDE”?

K: The day after the concert, I looked up in a magazine where I could buy HIDE’s guitar model. Then, I went to an instrument shop at Amerika Mura, I think the shop is not there anymore, but I went there and if you didn’t do a reservation you couldn’t get it. So, I made a reservation on the spot and I paid it with the money I have saved from my part-time job and New Year’s gift. But it didn’t arrive for about 6 months.

-So, you started practising with a guitar borrowed from a friend’s sister.

K: Yes, yes.  I started with the strings. Of course, I couldn’t play any song of X, it always was like I was only strumming. Since then, I gradually started to be surrounded by guys who liked the same bands, so we would gather at someone’s house and without an amplifier, we would practise together.

-Did it feel like “I have finally found something that makes me go crazy about it!”?

K: I was totally addicted/absorbed by music at that point. I would go every day to the bookshop and the record store to check if there was something new. At that time, from corner to corner, I would read every page of WeROCK magazine. I would read the pages for the recruitment of members too. (laughs) Then, I would go to indies shops and shops that were selling metal style clothes. I was attracted by things made of rubber or panted leather, that kind of fashion.

-What about your hairstyle?

K: Of course, I started to grow my hair long. At high school, long hair was not allowed but I told a teacher “I’m moving forward on my music’s path, growing my hair long is job hunting.”

-Those are defying words….

K: I said, “Because I already decided my path”.

-You were really thinking that?

K: Make a living of it……but yes. “I will play in a band!”, “I absolutely will be up on a stage”, I think I already decided that. “I will play in a band after graduating from high school, so if I cut my hair, I won’t be able to do it!”, I said.  It wasn’t a homeroom teacher but a teacher who played guitar and I was told “if that’s so, then do your best”. But sometimes when I tied my hair up, I was told “if it is bothering you, cut it”, “I will overlook this but if it is bothering you, you should cut it, if you grow it that long, more than a man you will look like a Basset hound” (laughs) After that, during class I would hold a pencil and practise how to press down the chords, I was told “Take this class properly!” but I didn’t take it seriously.

-At that time, what about other music or bands besides X?

K: Unless the songs were fast, I wasn’t interested. One way or another, I’m a guy of sharp riffs and fast beats. Even though I really didn’t understand the riffs at that moment, it was like “fast riffs are life!”, that’s why at that moment I was barely clicking with Western metal. Rather than that, I liked punk because there were many songs that were fast. A person from the rental shop in my neighbourhood recommended IRON MAIDEN (British metal band) but I was like “I don’t understand anything at all!”. But I liked HELLOWEEN (German metal band)

The first song played at a studio was “NO NEW YORK” from BOOWY but we couldn’t cover it properly at all but I felt like “ We are getting closer a bit closer”, it’s like going up a stairway (laughs) -So, you liked fast songs, right? K:DEAD END didn’t have fast songs, but I liked them though. The melodies, the atmosphere of the songs, MORRIE’s looks, all that. As you know, I would get the information from magazines, so I liked people who looked cool and flashy. I also liked COLOR and D’erlanger among others. -That’s national metal. Before that, there were bands like LOUDNESS and 44MAGNUM. K: I didn’t go there. This is also a cool story but, the bands of that time, weren’t the ones with sauvage perm? -LA metal style?* *LA metal is  a Japanese term that refers to rock bands that were active during the 80s. K: Rather than those, the ones that put their hair totally up. The ones were the hair looked stiff until the very end. Also,I thought that if the hair wasn’t blonde or red, it wasn’t cool. That’s why COLOR and X were shocking. The hair was totally up and the songs were fast. The first thing I liked about those bands were the way the hair was standing up. -When did you try to put your hair like that for the first time? K: Probably months after I listened to “Blue blood”. I put it up by myself, at home (laughs) I was like “how do you do this?”. But, in a magazine said “use hair spray” so I went to buy it. I would my hair like that when I went to school too. It was like “this is what a man does” (laughs) -Later, you would finally be in a band. K: It was at my second year of high school. Our first live was at a school festival. Before that, everyone got into the studio to match the sounds. It was mostly imitation. -Do you remember entering at a studio for the first time? K: It was really messy. I think we were at the studio for maybe two hours. For the first hour, it was just a mess, playing around with the instruments. Then, I think we say “Let’s give it  try” and played “NO MORE NEW YORK” by BOOWY.  Of course,we couldn’t cover it properly at all but I felt like “ We are getting closer a bit closer” (laughs) -That’s something naïve/innocent, right? K: “We are like going up a stair way right? is it cool?” that’s how it felt. -Then the first concert came…. You wrote in an article that you were so immersed into playing that you don’t remember it. K: That’s true. I remember really well the preparations before the concert, though. -What was that band’s name? K: It was called “DIE:STERIA”. I attached the world DIE somehow with TERIA. -It’s a coined word. Did you make it up by yourself? K: That’s it. A lot of the bands that I looked at the magazines had D and then something else attached, so I thought it was cool. As I’m talking about this, I suddenly feel embarrassed (laughs)

-(Laughs) That’s being young, right? Did you make any original song with that band?

K: Just one. It was fast, like melodic speed metal. But I was just scratching the guitar.

-Is there a recording?...

K: I don’t think I recorded it. In the studio I would like “do this, then like this” “sing like that”…I explained everything.

-What about the lyrics?

K: The lyrics……I wrote them (laughs). The lyrics were pretty terrible. They were kind of violent (laughs) Then, there was a melody that could be played by an acoustic guitar with fast riffs.

-From that point, furthermore you could be part of an original band, CHARM.

K: I came up with that name too. I think I made it up thinking it means “to charm, to fascinate”.

- Even after graduating from high school, you continued in that band.

K: But as expected, my parents didn’t approve, so for the time being I got into a vocational school. After the first semester, I decided to leave the school, I went only to convince/persuade my parents.

-Even after graduating high school, the band activities were local.

K: That’s right but I would rather say that we didn’t do much. Some members were working so more than doing nothing, it was like we weren’t moving much. Some members were working so we had periods that we did nothing. I still felt like I have to do it properly, so I used to play at live houses. Even so, we would play once or twice a year. That kind of level. Then, we would hang out at someone’s house and made songs with MTR.

-By the way, did HIDE’s existence mean the same for you as before?

K: Well, even more, I was addicted/crazy about him. X was appearing more and more on tv and they were national wide. The more opportunities you have to see them, the more you are going to like them. “Ah, Hide is wearing new clothes” or “Recently his hairstyle changed a little”, things like that. I would record all their tv appearances and I would see all the magazines. At that time, candid/natural photos were sold a lot a the bookstores. I bought many of HIDE. I bought a big hat that looked like the one that HIDE was wearing.

-You were completely a HIDE geek/nerd.

K: That’s right. When they came to Kansai, I would definitely go to see them. I also went for Tokyo Dome performances, “White Night” and “Blue Night”. I took a night bus with my friends, we arrived at Tokyo very early and would kill time around until the time of the concert. After it, I slept at all-night movie theatre in Shinjuku and then took an early-morning bus to come back home.

-Admiring his presence in that way, did you ever think “I want to become like that someday?”

K: I didn’t. Because I was playing only locally. Because there weren’t things like sending a demo tape or doing an audition. That’s why after that, if I hadn’t had the encounters that I did, I would probably have kept being local.

-What would you say to the Kaoru of that time?

K: To myself at that time? I see…. “Practice more!!!, I guess (laughs)

 (Next part)

[natromanxoff]

... But I have to admit… that maybe this night in New York City, with Brian May from Queen, might have had something to do with my decision to give up the “big party” for good.

We were both in town for CMJ: the huge music/publishing festival that takes place annually in New York.

I flew in with my band, Brian was there solo.

But we were both on Hollywood Records and so the president of the record company wanted to take us both out to a schmooz dinner, after we played CBGB’s that night.

Our job was to impress publishers, journalists, radio station owners in hopes that they would find us “down to earth” yet “intelligent and witty” and therefore, want to buy our music or play our music because not only were we talented but heck… we were just damn good people.

Now… I have always been good at schmoozing… it’s just something you have to do when you are playing in “The Show” but deep down inside…. it always made me extremely nervous and super sick to my stomach.

So, when it came time to leave for the big dinner party, my band thought it would be great if I drank a few margaritas and tequila shots with them… just to relax me before the special event.

Well, anyone that has been drinking in New York, knows that the bartenders of the Big Apple really like to make their cocktails strong and so… next thing I knew… I was in a limo, heading to a dinner party… empty stomach… well… now full of booze… and pretty much already bordering on inebriated.

My A&R person was trying to get me to pay attention as she did the run down on who would be there and why it was important to impress them but… I was in a bit of a stupor, looking out the passenger side window, enjoying the street lights, and basically spun out in my own little world.

“D.D.,” she snapped. “This is serious.”

So I gathered myself together and tried to sober myself long enough to at least LOOK interested in what she was saying.

We arrived at the restaurant: Upscale Mexican. Tequila and Margaritas strewn across the table.

This was going to be bad.

My thoughts of getting a coke or a cup of coffee to get myself back on track dissipated.

The record company president handed me a shot and pressed me to down it.

Brian May stood up, towering above me, gave me a giant hug, placed a margarita in my hand and that is basically all I remember.

I have a faint recollection of trying to pull a girl’s ear off her head, believing that she had something stuck in her hair.

And I guess I did actually get up and cross the restaurant to smell Robin Leech, from Lifestyle’s of the Rich and Famous fame because Brian May dared me to do it.

Other than that… my next memory is me on a street corner, outside of CBGB’s talking to a middle aged Italian man in a wife beater, who had a 1980’s Cadillac with a back seat full of hand guns and kept telling me not to worry about anything.

He would take care of me.

“Johnny” would take care of me.

At this time, I knew I was in trouble.

I picked up the pay telephone and called my brother Jack and started to cry.

He could hear “Johnny” rambling on in his heavy Bronx accent in the background, people outside the club screaming and fighting, and me… having my first breakdown on the road… and he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Where’s your A&R person?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” I sobbed.

“Go back to CBGB’s and get a cab back to your hotel now. Call me when you get there.”

I hung up the phone, told “Johnny” my brother said I had to go now, and so he saluted me with his heavily-clad-in-chunk-gold, pudgy Italian hand, and wished me well on my way.

I did grab a cab.

I did make it back to the hotel.

And when I woke up in the morning, naked in a bathtub full of rusty water in one of the old rooms at the Algonquin… my all time favorite New York hotel… home of the Algonquin Round Table… host to many of my favorite writers and editors: Dorothy Parker, George Kaufman, Harold Ross… I felt like I was going to vomit.

Not only because I was in the beginnings of the WORST hangover of my life but, because I had acted a fool and ended up a physical wreck in my literary place of worship.

I felt like Bukowski was the only writer that might actually applaud me at the moment, raise his glass to me in celebration of last night’s debauchery.

It was horrible.

And when I suddenly came completely to and remembered what I had done… I actually slapped my hand to my forehead and shook my head in disgust… hoping that I might somehow be able to forget the idiot I had been.

Had I actually tried to pull an ear off of a girl’s head?

Had I actually walked over and smelled Robin Leech?

I leaned out of the bathtub, grabbed the edge of the toilet, and vomited.

Ten minutes later the phone rang.

I dragged myself, naked, across the floor, and picked it up to hear Jack, my brother, and Joe, my husband, both screaming at me for scaring the shit out of them.

I guess I never called the house back to tell my brother I had made it safely to the hotel and they had no idea where I was staying until they were able to get hold of one of the record company reps in the morning.

I made my pathetic apologies and hung up.

The phone rang again.

This time it was my A&R rep.

I was ten minutes late for the record signing and press junket for my first album.

“Get your ass in a cab and get down to the Kimmel Center now!”

I had no idea where I was supposed to go but I rushed to get dressed, did everything I could to try and look like I wasn’t a drunken mess the night before, and made it to the Kimmel Center just in time to take some publicity photos with Brian.

Seeing him standing on the red carpet, his arms outstretched ready to pull me in close, a big smile on his face, soft-hearted giant, I felt like I had just been granted an “idiot” reprieve.

I rushed towards him and snuggled close, as he held me tight, and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “I loved that you actually went over and smelled Robin Leech. It was just so great.” and that was the moment that they snapped our photo.

Light bulbs popped off around us, people screamed out our names, questions were fired from all angles, and though I was a bit dazed… overwhelmed from the attention, and sick as a dog from my hell of a night. I made it through.

“Welcome to my world,” Brian said as he squeezed my hand and then sat down next to me at the autograph table where we spent the remainder of the morning visiting with fans, signing our names on cds and posters, and joking about Robin Leech until we both caught the late afternoon flights home out of JFK… me back to Los Angeles and my small home in the suburbs of Long Beach… Brian back to England… to his mansion estate… but both of us forever connected through our mutual love of music, drinking, and Robin Leech.

Credits to D. D. Wood.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x Reader) Chapter 3

Summary: Day 2 of the trial, a Sunday where Jack is allowed to choose his own adventure with Sebastian along for the ride.

AN: I hope you are all taking care of yourselves <3 and that tomorrow is kind to you.

Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad

Chapter 2 // Masterlist // AO3 Link // Chapter 4

“Morning, Jack,” Sebastian greeted the soporific Jack Hotchner as he entered the kitchen. Jack mumbled back and climbed into his place at the table. Sebastian set the place, poured his cereal, got his juice out as well, before joining him in breakfast.

They ate in quietude, that is until Sebastian’s phone buzzed with a text.

Once he’d read it, he held the phone out to Jack across the table, “Hey, do you wanna talk to your Dad? He’s free to call you quick if you want.”

A bolt of energy shot through Jack and he clutched the phone tightly.

There was Sebastian’s watchful eye remaining on Jack while he was clearing up the dirty dishes. Jack knuckled one of his eyes every now and again, but there was no doubt that he was beyond excited to speak to Hotch. His legs swung under the table.

“I love you, Daddy,” Jack said before he passed the phone back over, but Hotch had already hung up. Pocketing it, Sebastian finished up his breakfast with Jack officially cheered up – for now at least.

“I was thinking we could go out somewhere, treat ourselves.”

“The zoo!” Jack crowed immediately

“The zoo?”

“I haven’t been for ages and ages!”

“Well, I shall see if that’s possible while you go brush your teeth.”

Completely unplanned, Jack was dressed in a green polo that matched Sebastian’s shirt. Not the pattern but they were the exact same shade.

“My mum used to dress me and my sister up in similar outfits when we were kids,” Sebastian said as he was tying up his laces.

“Sometimes, Henry and me wear the same things,” Jack replied, double knotting his shoes up. A wise move.

“Who’s Henry?”

“My friend, his Mommy works with Daddy.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

The drive over had a much more confident sing-a-long. Sebastian played the same CD (but just the songs that Jack liked) and Jack was starting to pick up on some of the lyrics. Or at least what they sounded like. He was currently favouring that of Sara Bareilles. So much so that, after they circled the car park of the zoo and found a space, they finished the song before turning the engine off

As they were lining up to buy the tickets, Sebastian bent over and whispered to Jack, “I know you’d much rather have your dad here instead of me.”

“I don’t mind you,” was the reply, and a shrug to boot.

“I don’t mind you either, kid.”

And the second they entered the park, map in hand, Jack was grabbing at Sebastian, pulling him along, “Come on, I wanna see the elephants!”

The pair did pause to glance in the direction of the other animals, give them their moment of glory. But their focus and their hearts were set on finding the biggest land mammal, past the bug house and the birds, along to where the wider paddocks were situated.

Across a wooden bridge, they finally landed at the edge of a wooden barrier, about five feet from a ha-ha wall that wrapped around the elephants’ land. Jack stood on his tiptoes, his chin on the wooden slat.

Already knowing the answer to his questions, Sebastian said, “Can you see alright? Or do you wanna go on my shoulders?”

Jack fidgeted, scuffing his shoes on the dirt path, “Yes please.”

And he raised his arms over his head. Sebastian ducked down and lifted Jack over his head with some difficulty. He didn’t tell Jack that though.

“Now, don’t go farting on me, young man,” He patted Jack’s leg.

“Thank you, Seb.”

From his elevated position, Jack cheered up. He made sure not to hit Sebastian when his legs stretched out in excitement at the baby elephant trotting about the enclosure. He waved to the baby elephant who waved their trunk clumsily back at the crowds, eliciting a series of “awws”.

“Baby elephants stay with their mothers for their whole life,” Sebastian read off the plaque, “And these ones are from India. That’s where my mum’s from!”

“Is that why you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“All funny,” and Jack flapped his hand about.

“Nah, that’s my dad’s fault. From the exotic land of Bolton.”

“Is there any animals from there here?”

“Probably not, bud.”

“That one’s the Mommy,” Jack pointed out the elephant the wee baby was now showing off to. He laughed loudly when another baby elephant submerged its whole head into the artificial watering hole for a drink, “It’s still learning!”

A gentle meander took them all the way back to the café, once again ignoring the other animals. They were thinking with their stomach.

Upon arriving at their destination, Jack went for the classic fish, chips, and peas. Sebastian had made a New Year’s resolution to not order something just to get the chips on the side, so he went for the lasagne and broccoli.

“I used to call them ‘baby trees’, made me feel like a giant.”

“What about peas?” Jack scooped several of the vegetable up onto his fork.

“They’re boulders, the kind that roll all the way down mashed potato mountains.”

“I don’t have any mashed potatoes though.”

“Maybe next time. Eat your boulders.”

Third time lucky, the other animals were given Jack’s attention. His second favourite after the elephants? The meerkats. There was a bubble at the centre with a tunnel underneath the desert-like paddock that he could go into and poke his head up. He waved and shouted (albeit muffled by the thick glass) at Sebastian, who waved back and took some photos. Back around by Sebastian’s side of the wall, Jack would hold the meerkats’ attention with a clementine segment pinched in his finger and lure them around the wall’s edge. Then he would eat the fruit.

Sebastian preferred the otters, slipping and sliding down the stream. His laugh trilled with the kids that watched the otters cawing at each other. Chattering between their little whines, they wriggled around in the pool.

Just as Jack was adding to his birthday list every other item in the gift shop. Sebastian’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

About to fly back to Virginia, will be in around nine.

All good our end, hope it’s good with yours too

And Sebastian sent his reply with the photo of Jack hypnotising the meerkats with the promise of citrus fruit.

Jack was very clearly worn out from the day but still had enough energy to tap his toes along during the drive back. The news that Hotch would be home that evening was what got Jack through until dinner time. Sat on the countertop, he watched TV placidly, while Sebastian got on with the tuna pasta. He did get to pour the sweetcorn in, a proper little chef.

“Thoughts?” Sebastian asked when Jack chewed through half his plate, apparently without breathing.

“It’s nice,” Jack said, his mouth half full, “I like the chips.”

The crushed salted crisps sprinkled on top were just a bonus that Sebastian’s dad had introduced to the world. His best invention by far, besides his two kids of course. And Jack ate it all up with gusto.

As the dishwasher was being loaded, out of nowhere, the front door unlocked and not even halfway open before Jack was up on his feet and shouting, “Daddy!”

He sprinted full force and was caught in his father’s arms just as Hotch stepped into the flat. Hotch, despite seeming very worn out, cradled his son like he was a newborn.

“Hey buddy,” He whispered into Jack’s hair, “How have you been?”

Jack’s reply was muffled in his suit jacket, “Good!”

“How was your time with Sebastian?”

“We went to the zoo!”

Sebastian caught Hotch’s gaze over Jack’s shoulder, and immediately Sebastian busied himself with clearing the table, “Lucky you caught him on his way to bed.”

“Come on,” Hotch patted Jack’s back, “Let’s get you off to sleep.”

He carried Jack off to his bedroom, leaving his briefcase at the door. Sebastian watched them go with a half-smile. One that disappeared when it turned to the chores at hand.

First things first, he placed Hotch’s dinner onto a plate and placed it in the oven, still warm from the initial cooking. Of course, he didn’t put the salad in the oven. He wasn’t an idiot. Then it was putting the leftovers in the fridge, scrubbing at the dishes and cutlery, cleaning down the table, sweeping up the stuff. Somehow he was always more productive when the repercussions were next to instantaneous.

“Did Jack go down OK?” Sebastian asked once Hotch had returned to the kitchen.

“Yes, he’s quite worn out from your trip.”

“How was the case?”

The question was offered with a levity that Hotch understood as merely checking in, not an attempt to mine the grisly details from his mind. That much was clear when Hotch set his gun down on the table and Sebastian tensed before moving around and away from it. Hotch then picked it back up and deposited it in a drawer.

“It was fine, glad it was over quick. Is that my dinner?” Hotch opened the oven, standing clear of the hot air that escaped from it.

Nodding, Sebastian passed the dying up cloth between his two hands, “Yeah, plus salad, crisps – sorry, ‘chips’ - for the top.” He corrected himself only because Hotch’s eyebrows knitted at his choice of words.

“You put chips on top of your pasta?” He said slowly.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

Looking unconvinced, Hotch closed the oven again, “How did you find your time with Jack?”

“He’s a good kid, we had fun today. Plus, he didn’t kick up a fuss eating his five-a-day which is a bonus,” Sebastian twisted the dish cloth around, “You’ve done a good job raising him.”

Hotch nodded with what Sebastian was saying, and while his face stayed neutral, his eyes held a glint.

“Then you wouldn’t have any objections to becoming his nanny full time, would you?”

Offer sank in and Sebastian’s face broke out into a toothy grin, “Yeah? Even with the crisp-chips?”

Hotch’s shoulders dropped about half an inch of tension, “Do you have your documents with you? We can get the paperwork done tonight.”

A little undainty on his feet, Sebastian went to his room and grabbed his folder of his important paperwork that was still in his unpacked suitcase. He tried to keep his clothes neat now that they were out on the carpet.

“Can I get you a drink?” Hotch asked, already pouring himself a scotch. He had served his dinner while Sebastian was out of the room. He’d even sprinkled a few chips on top like Sebastian had suggested.

“I’m good with water, thanks,” and Sebastian sat opposite Hotch’s place at the table.

“You don’t mind if I eat while we do this? I haven’t since lunch time.”

“Go ahead.”

Sebastian waited until he was a few forkfuls into his meal before speaking again, “Thoughts on the chips?”

He had to severely mute his reaction as he watched the corner of Hotch’s mouth quirk up and stay there, “Surprisingly good.”

With glee, Sebastian snapped his fingers, “Success!”

Once settled, Hotch and Sebastian discussed fees, records, emergency contacts. A copy of the background check Hotch had already completed sat atop the contract. Hotch let Sebastian read through to his leisure while he polished off his dinner. By the time his plate was cleared, Sebastian’s signature had been scribbled alongside Hotch’s on the few dotted lines that concluded the sheets of paper.

“You’re officially hired,” Hotch slid a pair of newly cut keys across the table. When Sebastian pocketed them, he held up his tumbler.

“To having a job,” Sebastian clinked his glass against Hotch’s and took a sip, “Thank you. Forgot to send you this yesterday by the way.”

And he sent the photos off to Hotch’s number. Not a moment later, Hotch’s phone beeped and he picked it up, his thumb swiping over the photos. To fill the quiet, Sebastian asked, “Do you have a preference on what I can send you and when while you’re away? I don’t wanna bother you too much while you’re working.” His rambling faded as he watched Hotch’s face soften.

“Send me photos whenever you can.” Hotch’s voice had melted too, warming Sebastian’s already soporific heart.

Sebastian stifled a yawn before swallowing, “And I think that’s the end of my day approaching. Goodnight, Aaron.”

“One more thing,” Hotch slipped his phone into his breast pocket, “Why did you move over here, Sebastian?”

“I had a pen pal over here, we met on holiday when we were kids, and I wanted to move away from home. So I got a Visa and moved in with her.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Satisfied, Hotch began to clear up his plate, “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

Sebastian went to say goodnight but, remembering he’d already said that, he just left for his bedroom.

[our-time-is-now]

July 8, 2019 (1): Bifi and 500 Miles

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.

Monday, 10:07 am:

David: *Hanna and Jonas have picked them up at quarter to 10 but as Matteo still had to pack his toiletries – he had already double-checked the rest of the luggage last night – Hanna and Jonas had to wait in the car for 5 minutes before they could finally leave* *they have agreed with the others to meet up at Carlos' house, as Sam had picked up the van at 9:30 and had already picked up the others* *from there they planned on driving to Heidesee with all three of the cars* *have just arrived at Carlos', where all the others are already waiting, and are getting out of the car* *hears Jonas say: "Hanna and I were on time!"* *grins slightly and shrugs before greeting the others via handshake or hug* *hears Mia: "Well, I think we can cope with a 7 minute delay!"* *nods* I agree! *then looks around and asks* You've already packed all the luggage? *sees Abdi nod: "Yes, of course! We can actually leave straight away!"* *sees Kiki look at her clipboard: "Shouldn't we go through the list again!"*

Matteo: *slightly rolls his eyes at Jonas' comment* *then grins at Mia and nods exaggeratedly* I agree! *laughs at Kiki's question* Sure, let's go through the list again... but then it's not my fault if we don't leave on time. *sees Kiki hesitate for a moment but then start, after all: "So, the tents are all in the van, and all our provisions are also in the van, but also in the legroom, that's going to be a little uncomfortable, but we'll manage..."* *interrupts her* There's still room in Hanna's car... *sees Kiki look at him horrified: "Even with the luggage of four people?"* *sees her immediately go to Hanna's car and inspect the trunk* *sees her hold up his duffel bag and hears her ask: "Is that yours? There's no way that's enough?"* *laughs* I don't need much. *feels Carlos tug at his shirt: "That's not even yours, either... I'm sure he'll help himself from David's stuff... they'll manage, babe, let's get the provisions into Hanna's car and then that's ok."* *nods* Exactly.

David: *nods hesitantly when Kiki says that they are going through the list again and hopes that she’s really only summarizing everything and not going through every single item on it* *hugs Matteo from behind and puts his head on his shoulder when Kiki starts* *is somehow really tired because they currently have a pretty late sleeping pattern and he’s gotten up earlier today to at least be able to shower and have some coffee in peace* *follows Kiki with his eyes when she inspects the trunk of Hanna’s car* *grins slightly at her words and quietly murmurs to Matteo* I told you… *then laughs at Carlos’ words and lets go of Matteo again* *shrugs* If we have to, we’ll just do some laundry there… *also thinks that Matteo packed a little light but doesn’t really think that it’s that big of a deal* *sees Kiki nod at Carlos’ words and then look at Abdi and Carlos: “Yes, could you carry two boxes over? Maybe we can even fit three… okay what else….”* *has to grin when Carlos and Abdi really go to the van immediately and carry boxes to the other car* *then hears Kiki again: “Okay, we have games… the barbecue stuff is in Alex’ car… what else is important…?"* *hears Mia: “Kiki, we have everything! We’ve already gone through the list in the chat… Let’s hit the road – otherwise it will get even later."* *sees Kiki hesitate: “Hmm… okay, but once we arrive everyone should stick to the plan: The ones sleeping in the tents put up their tents and the others unload the rest of the stuff and tidy up the house and make some space in there, okay?"*

Matteo: *simply starts to grin even broader and nods at everything that’s going on* *truly doesn’t really care at what time they leave and arrive* *also nods when Kiki announces the plan for when they arrive* *then sees Carlos and Abdi whisper and shake their heads* *looks over to them and sees them making swimming motions and grins* *briefly nods imperceptibly and then turns around to see if David is still standing there* *hears Kiki say: “Hello, guys, that’s important! We’ll unpack first, once we arrive, and then we can have fun, okay?"* *sees Jonas salute and hears him say: “Yes, Sir, Sergeant Kiki, no fun before 1310 hours, understood!"* *laughs out loud and salutes, as well* *sees Kiki look at Jonas in confusion for a moment and then shake her head: “Only if we’re finished by then."* *hears everyone laugh now and sees Mia lovingly push Kiki: “Okay, let’s hit the road, first the van and we’ll follow."* *takes David’s hand and goes over to Hanna’s car with him to sit down on the back seat*

David: *grins broadly when Jonas and Matteo salute and glances at the time* *laughs* Oh, that’s gonna be a close call! Then we really have to be quick and hurry with putting up the tents… *is glad that Kiki is then convinced by Mia to hit the road and lets Matteo pull him to the car* *takes a seat behind Hanna while Matteo sits down behind Jonas* *buckles up, leans back and reaches for Matteo’s hand again* *looks over at him and is suddenly really excited that they are finally leaving – their first holiday together* *smiles at him in anticipation and squeezes his hand* *then hears Hanna from the front: “Okay, what’s not on Kiki’s list and so we forgot it, is some music for the road. My father only has oldies and classics in here. Does anyone have a CD with them? Or the radio or papa’s CDs?"* *grins slightly* Oh, classics aren’t that bad… definitely better than the radio! *sees Jonas nod: “I agree. But oldies aren’t bad, either… although, depends on the oldies…”*

Matteo: *buckles up and grins when he sees David holding out his hand and immediately takes it* *then listens to the discussion about the music and shrugs* Yeah, put the oldies on… if it’s too bad we can change it… *sees Jonas getting busy with the CDs and put one in* *hears “Be my Baby” by The Ronnettes start to play and grins* *starts to nod his head exaggeratedly* That’s super groovy! *hears Hanna laugh: “Definitely…!"* *then hears Jonas sing along and grins* *suddenly really feels like they’re on holiday and grins over at David*

David: *hears Hanna start the car and pull into the traffic behind the van while Jonas puts in the CD* *has to smile when he hears the first song and automatically starts to bounce his leg with the beat* *laughs at Matteo’s words and grins when Jonas starts to sing along* *then also hears Hanna loudly sing along when they reach the chorus and grins over to Matteo and starts to sing along, as well* *they listen to two more songs before they reach the Autobahn and “Like a Rolling Stone” by Bob Dylan starts to play* *likes the song and quietly hums along* *then suddenly hears Hanna from the front: “So, now I’m hungry!" and Jonas: “Dude, we’ve only been on the road for 12 minutes…”* *grins slightly when Hanna replies: “The Autobahn always makes me hungry!"* *knows the feeling and therefore says* I can relate. They somehow make you feel like you won’t get to anything edible for a while and like you’ll still be on the road for a long time! *hears Hanna’s triumph: “Yes, exactly! You see, Jonas, David gets it!"* *sees Jonas shake his head with a grin: “You’re both crazy!" and sees him turn to Matteo: “They’re crazy, Luigi! Say something!"* *grins slightly and then looks at Matteo* Matteo hasn’t had breakfast yet and he’s always hungry anyways – I’m afraid you’re on your own with your opinion right now…

Matteo: *laughs when Hanna says that she’s hungry* *definitely knows why she’s his favorite girl* *only nods slightly to the discussion that follows* *can’t believe that Jonas really thinks that he’s going to take his side on this one* *was just about to say that when David already does and grins even broader* Exactly. You should actually know that, Mister best friend… *sees Jonas wave it off: “Okay, okay… and where do we get something to eat now? Or did you really pack provisions for a 1.5 hour long drive?"* *laughs slightly* Noooo, but who was smart enough to make sure that the provisions are in this car? *hears Hanna laugh and say: “You’re the best!"* *laughs* I know… hang on… *unbuckles his seatbelt and turns around on the seat to halfway climb into the trunk and see what he can reach*

David: *grins when he realizes due to Hanna’s and Matteo’s conversation that the provisions are in the car with them and when Matteo unbuckles to see what he can find* *hears him rummage around for a while and eventually hears him ask: “Milchschnitte or Bifi?"* *thinks for a moment and eventually says* Bifi! *hears Hanna say at the same time: “Milchschnitte!” and sees Matteo sit back down and triumphantly hold up Milchschnitte and Bifi* *laughs and takes one of the Bifis while handing Hanna a Milchschnitte* I’m sure Kiki counted them… and whoever had to buy them will get into trouble because some of them are missing… *hears Hanna: “It’s not like the closest Aldi isn’t only 15 minutes away by car… basically we could have bought everything there…”* *then hears Jonas: “If I were you I would shut up. Kiki is sitting in the back of the van and is probably wondering right now where you’ve got the Milchschnitte from…”* *sees him wave towards the van exaggeratedly*

Matteo: *takes a bite off his Bifi and then laughs out loud* Kiki should stop making such a fuss… she has to relax  a little… *hears everyone laugh and Hanna say: “Yes, tell that to her face, I’m sure she’ll take that well."* *laughs again* I’m not afraid of Kiki. *hears Jonas say: “Liar. We’re all afraid of Kiki and…?” and hears Hanna answer: “Justifiably so!”* *shrugs one shoulder and takes another bite off his Bifi* Well, okay… but the Aldi really isn’t far away… we even walked there once because while we were high you really wanted to have that one type of cookies, Jonas? *hears Jonas laugh: “Yeees, but I don’t remember how long it took us… probably forever…”*

David: *listens to the three with a grin, but then hears how Hanna apparently didn’t think that it was funny and hears her say: “It took you 2 hours and 40 minutes in total! It would have been really nice back then if you had told me about it before you left…”* *sees Jonas put a placating hand on her knee and hears him say: “Yeah, sorry, was really stupid of us… but now we’re older and wiser… and not high as often as we used to…”* *can somehow understand Hanna really well* *would also be worried if Matteo stayed away for so long and he didn’t know where he was* *looks over at him and takes his hand again* *everyone is silent for a moment and then he eventually hears Hanna: “Sorry, I didn’t want to bring down the mood… it’s in the past now and forgotten, okay?"* *hears Jonas: “Okay, put behind us and forgotten… I’ll go find a song that gets the mood back…”* *grins slightly and watches him meddle with the CD player*

Matteo: *grimaces slightly at Hanna’s words* *had forgotten for a moment how tense it had already been between Hanna and Jonas during that trip* Yes, that was really stupid of us… sorry… *then feels David’s hand in his’ again and smiles at him* *leans over and quickly kisses him with a grin* *then hears “500 Miles” start to play and has to laugh when Hanna groans and Jonas cheers at the same time* *only laughs and immediately starts to sing along when Jonas does* *grins when two seconds later Hanna and David also join in* *you simply cannot resist that song*

David: *has to grin when because of the song the mood is suddenly lifted again and also starts to sing along* *spends the rest of the journey in a good mood with a lot of singing and anticipation and a few stories from Heidesee* *at some point they make a quick pit stop on the roadside because Kiki has to pee and while Hanna and Jonas are out of the car talking to Sam about some shortcut that the GPS isn’t showing, Matteo and he use the time to make out* *the rest of the way their car is in the front because Hanna knows the area the best and eventually they arrive at the cabin a little after 11:30 am*

(next play)

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Persona @wegotyourbackzine! I decided to write about Mitsuru and her changing the relationship throughout the game. I also couldn’t resist putting some Akihiko/Mitsuru hints. XD

Summary: Friendship. That had a nice ring to it. Mitsuru stared at the group of people living in the dorm and realized she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

…

…

…

…

Summer

 The hot summer sun beat down with no reprieve and Mitsuru shielded her eyes with a hand as she walked home. Not escorted, not driven, but walked. She didn’t even have a bodyguard behind her, trailing her inconspicuously from five feet away. And while that was all strange enough, it was not as strange as the two boys walking slightly ahead of her. Her associates. The word didn’t sound right but Mitsuru wasn’t sure what else to call them. Certainly not friends or even classmates—neither Akihiko nor Shinjiro were in her school, let alone her class.

 Holding his jacket over his shoulder, Akihiko looked over his shoulder. The bandage on his face looked like it was glued there, she couldn’t remember seeing him without one. “What did you call those monster things again?”

 “Shadows,” Mitsuru answered quickly. “What you summon with the Evokers are—”

“Personas, right?” Shinjiro filled in, his hands in his pockets. Mitsuru resisted the urge to correct his posture, to straighten his slouched back. Like this, he seemed as tall as Akihiko instead of towering over him. “I can’t believe this is real. It sounds something out of a fantasy book.”

“Or a video game.” Akihiko grinned cockily, swiftly jabbing the air in front of him. “Secret identities, fighting at night, saving the world—we’re like superheroes.”

 “Superheroes?” Shinjiro raised a brow, his expression wry. “Can’t think of one that has to shoot themselves in the head to use their powers.”

 Mitsuru rubbed her forearm uncomfortably. It was mildly disturbing how easy it was to press the cold metal to her head, to pull the trigger. To watch them do the same. Maybe she had something in common with her grandfather after all. “It does sound…silly, when you put it like that. Unfortunately, the design is required. It has to be stress-inducing.”

 “More stress-inducing than fighting monsters in the middle of the night while surrounded by coffins?” Shinjiro asked. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or just rhetorical. His dry tone didn’t help.

 “Quit complaining.” Akihiko cracked his knuckles. “At least we can fight them.”

 “Fighting addict.” Shinjiro rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to her. “Where’d you say the dorms were?”

 Mitsuru looked up at him. “They’re…”

 She stared. Just when had Shinjiro gotten so close? Even Akihiko was, for that matter. At some point, they’d started walking abreast one another, the two boys flanking her, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Of the sound of her footsteps being echoed by two others. Of her voice being answered by another. A dog barked nearby, breaking her from her thoughts, and Mitsuru masked her unease with a polite smile. “Just past this temple.”

 -x-

Fall

 The sound of laughter echoed through the halls and Mitsuru paused as she closed her bedroom door. From the third floor, she couldn’t clearly make out their voices, only a messy cacophony as her companions teased one another. It was a sound she’d been hearing more often these days. Involuntarily, her lips curled into a smile and she locked her room.

 Heading toward the stairs, she glanced at the nameplates as she passed them: Aigis, Yukari, Fuuka. The floor below was equally occupied, and her feet felt light as she descended to the ground floor. When they’d first arrived here, it had felt almost ridiculous to have three people in such a big building. Now they were nine strong and the building was more full than empty. Though it seemed the majority of residents were all crowding around the lobby. “What’s happening?”

 “Mitsuru-senpai!” Crouching next to Koromaru, Junpei waved eagerly as she stepped onto the landing. “You gotta see what Yukari bought Koromaru.” He slowly rose, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Have you ever seen anything so stupid?”

 “It’s not stupid!” Yukari flushed a bright red and swatted Junpei with a rolled-up paper. “Aigis said he likes it!”

 “Of course he would, he’s a dog.” Junpei cracked up again, undeterred. He covered his head with a hand, blocking her attacks. “Like he knows what’s cool or not.”

 “Is that relevant?” Aigis asked, bemused. She cocked her head. “He is a dog.”

 “What are you…” Mitsuru glanced at Koromaru and blinked. Then she blinked again. Perched on his head was a white headband with a pair of fluffy, white, distinctly not dog-ears. “Are those cat ears?”

 “The pet shop put out their Halloween costumes,” Yukari defended weakly, averting her gaze. Quietly, she mumbled, “And I…never had a pet before…”

 “I think they’re cute,” Fuuka agreed, squeezing Yukari’s shoulder. She gave a sympathetic smile. “Even Koromaru should get to dress up for Halloween.”

 Mitsuru glanced at the plastic bag by Yukari’s feet. The overly stuffed plastic bag. Just how many costumes did she buy? Koromaru cocked his head, the headband staying on firmly. It was a little cute, she had to admit. Just a little. “I suppose so.”

 “Ugh, is this a girl thing?” Junpei turned to Makoto with a grimace. “You don’t like them too, do you?”

 Makoto crossed his arms, studying Koromaru seriously. As usual, he took his time, scrutinizing the whole affair with more gravity than needed. “They—”

 Cutting him off before he could finish, Junpei groaned. “Why’d I even ask you, Mr. Popularity. Where’s Akihiko when you need him? Wait…” He stared at Koromaru and a wide smile spread across his face. “Hey, Koromaru, I’ll take you for a walk today.”

 “…huh?” Taken aback, Yukari snapped her head toward him. “You hate taking him for a walk.”

 “What lies! As though I could ever hate walking Koromaru. He’s saved my life so many times. Besides, I should do my part to help out.” Already heading toward the door, he whistled lightly as he picked up Koromaru’s leash. “Come on boy! And keep those ears on!”

 Fuuka started at his receding back for a long moment before she leaned closer to Yukari and whispered, “You don’t think he’s—”

 “Picking up girls?” Yukari sighed, crossing her arms as she glared at his departing figure. “Oh, he definitely is going to try.”

 -x-

Winter

 “It’s cold.” Mitsuru adjusted the scarf around her neck. Even layered up as she was, winter’s chilly bite clung to her bones and refused to let go.

 Trotting quickly on the sidewalk in front of her, Koromaru yipped softly, his tail low. Not a single part of him resembled the dog Mitsuru was used to, the excited canine who lived for his evening walks. Then again, with everything that happened in the past year, she couldn’t blame him. Between the numerous sacrifices to stop Nyx, Mitsuru wasn’t sure she could smile anymore either.

 “He says…” Aigis stared blankly at Koromaru. The wind picked up. She blinked. “He says…”

 “It’s okay, I can guess.” Rubbing her hands in front of her mouth, she tried to warm them with her breath. “It’s been a while since anyone took him out for a walk. Everyone’s too busy, I guess.”

 Aigis softly added, “The dorms are really quiet now.”

 “I suppose now that we no longer have to fight, there isn’t really a reason to stay.” Mitsuru forced a crooked smile and patted Aigis on the arm. “I’m glad you came. I can’t remember the last time you left the dorms.”

 “Yeah.” Aigis stared straight ahead. “Normally, he…”

 A long beat passed. Mitsuru lowered her gaze, blinking back tears. It wasn’t too hard to picture a quiet boy with headphones strolling next to them, a sympathetic ear ready for their problems. Loss was a waterfall, ever pouring, and it leaked into every aspect of her life. She had a company she wasn’t ready to manage. Friends whose deaths she couldn’t explain. Everyone would remember Shinjiro as a delinquent. And no one would remember Makoto.

 Even now, she hadn’t managed to remove their nameplates from their doors, the finality of it all too much. She’d peaked in once, just once, the rooms left as though their owners would return at any moment. Shinjiro’s cookbooks stacked messily on desk. A CD case left open on Makoto’s desk.

 Koromaru whined, pressing his body against her leg and Mitsuru crouched down to pet him. “I miss him too,” Mitsuru murmured, burying her hand in his fur. “All of them. My father…” Her voice cracked and despite it all, it was still too hard to talk about him.

 “Miss,” Aigis repeated, stretching out the word. She gripped her chest and looked down at Mitsuru. “Is that what this pain is? Missing? Longing?”

 It was sometimes too easy to forget how new Aigis was to emotions. To being human. Standing up, Mitsuru embraced her gently. “Yeah. That is exactly what it is.”

 -x-

Spring

 The key turned with a soft click. There. It was done. The dorms were closed. Everyone had moved out and they had even managed to clean out every room, including the chairman’s. Somehow, his loss hurt more than anyone else’s, even her father’s. Despite what he did, her feelings toward him couldn’t settle, rage and loss warring with every thought. She wished it was more clear-cut, that it was easier to hate him.

 “Are you done?” Akihiko asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Or did you forget something inside?”

 “No, nothing.” Reluctantly, Mitsuru pulled the key out of the lock. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and down the steps. “It’s finally over.”

 “Yeah. The dungeon, that time loop, everything.” Akihiko stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking on her left as they headed to where she’d parked her bike. “Can’t say I won’t miss it; it’s been, what, three years since we moved in?”

 “A little more than that.” Mitsuru brushed her hair off her shoulder. It was longer now than when they’d first met. The distance between them was shorter than was back then too. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him. “I always thought it was too big for us.”

 “Too big?” Akihiko snorted, amused. “More like too small—do you know how hard it was to find food when Junpei scavenged the kitchen?”

 “Yes, because I’m the one who had to stock the fridge.” Mitsuru laughed and that also was something that changed. “But it served it’s purpose.”

 “Yeah, I guess it did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You know, when we first came here, I didn’t really think much of it. But now…it’s home.”

 “Home,” Mitsuru echoed. Yeah, that was the word for it. Home. A bittersweet feeling bloomed in her chest. “I’ll miss it. How close we were to everyone.”

 “Me too.” He patted her shoulder comfortingly. “But my college is just ten minutes from your university, and well…we’re all still friends, right?”

 She reached up and squeezed his hand. It had been scary, after Makoto died, when everyone was drifting apart. Now Aigis and Yukari were roommates, now Fuuka was organizing monthly meetups, now Ken was getting ready to join them in high school. They were still connected, despite everything. “Yes.”

 They were all still friends and the future didn’t look as dark and scary as it used to.

 Reassured, she smiled teasingly. “So, what was that about you becoming a cop?”

[tracingdreams]

Daiya no Ace: The Dramas #12 - Lucky Niisan

An explanation… To keep my brain from rusting I started a project to translate the drama tracks that came with the character song CDs and other stuff relating to Daiya no Ace (because I love them and they’re all hilarious). My disclaimer - I am not a native speaker of Japanese, but I will do my best!

Character Song CD 03 – Kominato Haruichi Drama 02 Featuring Haruichi, Sawamura and Ryousuke

Scene: Sawamura is trying to hack the vending machine when Haruichi arrives. Haruichi just wants to get a drink of apple juice, but nothing at Seidou is ever that easy.

Translator’s disclaimer: Eijun gets hit a lot in this drama. If you think that this might trigger or upset you, please use reader discretion. 

By posting this drama translation I am in no way condoning hitting people. Violence is not good. Bouryoku hantai. 

 Eijun: Right hand and left hand…and then, the two buttons underneath each of those hands…

Haruichi: Eijun-kun, why are you fighting with the vending machine?

Eijun: Ah! Harucchi! Cheetah-senpai said that if you press two of the buttons on the vending machine simultaneously, you get a free go!

(Translator’s Note: Pretty sure I don’t have to explain who Cheetah-senpai is, right?)

Haruichi: You do know there’s no way that can be true.

Eijun: Then, maybe two items will come out at the same time…? If that happened, it would be the same as getting a freebie, right?

Haruichi: If you confuse the machine by pressing them at the same time, there’s always a risk neither one of them will come out. And you might not get your money back, either.

Eijun: (horrified) You’re kidding?!

Haruichi: Though you’d only know for sure if you tried it.

Eijun: Gnnnnnn! So which one is it? (he means, will it work or will it not work)?

Haruichi: Eijun-kun…

Eijun: What?

Haruichi: If you’re not going to buy anything yet, will you let me buy my drink ahead of you?

Eijun: (he sounds indignant): Why?!

Haruichi: Why..? I want to buy some juice as well.

Eijun: I guess it can’t be helped. I will heed your demand, Kominato Haruichi.

Haruichi: Why are you using my full name?

Eijun: I just wanted to say it.

Haruichi: Well, whatever….hey, wait, why are you leaving your hands over both of the buttons?

Eijun: It’s not important, it’s fine.

Haruichi: It’s not fine! And you have your hand over the tomato juice button! I really don’t like tomato juice.

Eijun: Really?

Haruichi: Mm. I’m going to buy apple juice, so please, move your hand.

Eijun: Even though they’re both red fruits…

Haruichi: Tomatoes are vegetables! (Translator’s note: lets leave that controversial debate well alone, shall we boys?) Hurry up and move!

Eijun: Fine. (He moves his hand).

Haruichi: Seriously, sometimes…hey, Eijun-kun! Why are you raising your hand like that behind my back?

Eijun: (innocently) Eh?

Haruichi: Don’t ‘eh’ me! You’re planning to press the tomato juice button, aren’t you?

Eijun: Hahaha, what are you talking about?

Haruichi: Stop trying to laugh it off in that Miyuki-senpai-esque way. I’m not fooled, and you sound nothing like him, anyway.

Eijun: (chastened): I had such confidence in it, too…

Haruichi: Honestly…how did coming out here to buy juice turn into such an undertaking?

Eijun: (he’s back and bouncy again!) In that case, let’s do this! Harucchi, you press the apple juice button. I’ll press the tomato juice button at the same time. That way we can find out what happens. How about it?

(Translator’s note: Erm, Eijun, how is this different from your original plan?)

Haruichi: How about it? Are you kidding? Why should you be pressing a button when I’m the one buying a drink? That alone is pretty strange!

Eijun: Harucchi! This is a contest! It’s a proper contest between you and I! Are you going to run away from that challenge?

Haruichi: It was never really a contest or challenge from the very start, though…Eijun-kun.

Eijun: Gnnnn…Is it no good no matter what I try?

Haruichi: (Sighs) Fine, I get it. In that case, you buy your drink first. I’ll press the button at the same time as you.

Eijun: Okay! In that case…

Haruichi: Then what is it you want to drink, Eijun-kun?

Eijun: Cold tea or hot tea!

Haruichi: Erm, isn’t that basically the same thing?

Eijun: But, ever since the old days, it’s been a tradition of the Sawamura family to drink tea or barley tea (mugicha). It can’t be helped, right?

Haruichi: I see…your house is like that. That reminds me, do you have any siblings?

Eijun: I’m an only child! We’re a family of four – Grandpa, Dad, Mum and me.

Haruichi: I see. We’re also a four-person family – Dad, Mum, Aniki and me. But I wonder what it’s like, living with a grandfather.

Eijun: In that case, Haruichi, shall I lend him to you right now?

Haruichi: Er…no…I’m fine…

Eijun: I’ve got no siblings, so I’ve always been interested in what it’s like, living with brothers or sisters. What’s it like, having an older brother?

Haruichi: Aniki is right here at Seidou, so why don’t you just ask him? “Please be my older brother”? or something?

Eijun: Eh…But…you know…that older brother is…a little bit…

(And you just know, don’t you, who is standing RIGHT behind him. Yep. You guessed it.)

Ryousuke: What about me?

Eijun: (freaked out) Ah, a presence has appeared!

Ryousuke: Don’t talk about someone like they’re a ghost (he hits Eijun). So, Haruichi? What were you guys talking about?

Haruichi: Ah…mm. It began with a conversation about my not drinking tomato juice, and it ended in a discussion about what it would be like if you were Eijun-kun’s older brother, aniki.

Ryousuke: Me…become his older brother? That’s impossible…

Haruichi: It was a ‘what if’ conversation.

Ryousuke: What about you then, Haruichi? What if I wasn’t your older brother? What if we weren’t really siblings? How would you feel?

Haruichi: I…never thought about it before.

Ryousuke: But, when I came to Seidou, you had that bunk bed and that room at home all to yourself, right?

Haruichi: Yes…that’s true…but…

Ryousuke: But?

Haruichi: It was somehow too big like that – I didn’t like it.

Ryousuke: Hrmmmm.

Haruichi: I’m quite happy that you’re my brother, aniki. We’ve always been siblings, after all. And we’ll always be like that, going forward as well.

Ryousuke: Hrmmm. I really don’t care either way, mind you.

Haruichi: Huh?!

(Translator’s Note - he’s a bit shocked by this. Bad Ryousuke. We all know you only asked Haruichi’s point of view because you like having him as a brother as well)

Ryousuke: So, let’s see. What should I drink?

Haruichi: Apple juice…?

Ryousuke: I wonder. (He presses the button…and…of course, he gets the sound for a free drink – the thing that Eijun was trying to hack from earlier). Ah. I won.

Eijun: (he’s recovered): WHAAAAAT?

Haruichi: Ah! Eijun-kun came back to life.

Eijun: (I imagine him pointing at the machine in dismay) But that should have been my free drink!

Haruichi: But I let you go ahead of me, so…

Eijun: Grrr…and now I feel I must congratulate you, Oniisan, for getting the free drink prize when it comes up so infrequently!

Ryousuke: It’s the third time that’s happened for me.

Eijun: (now both incensed and impressed, all at once): What did you say? Please! Allow me to call you Oniisan from now on!

Ryousuke: You already call me that, though.

Eijun: Then let me call you Lucky Niisan!

(he gets hit again).

Ryousuke: That’s a nope.

Haruichi: Eijun-kun? Are you still alive?

Eijun: (demented laughing): I, Sawamura Eijun, will always regain my strength, no matter how many times I get hit!

(he gets hit again).

Ryousuke: Shut up.

(and again).

Ryousuke: Haruichi…I’ll give you the free drink. I don’t need two, after all.

Haruichi: You don’t mind?

Ryousuke: Are you holding back? In that case, I’ll decide.

(he presses the button, and a drink comes out. He holds it out).

Ryousuke: Here. Take it.

Haruichi: Oh! Thank you…hey, wait a minute! This is tomato juice!

Ryousuke: It’s not good to have likes and dislikes, now is it?

Haruichi: Ah, Aniki…

Eijun: (groans)

Haruichi: Are you okay, Eijun-kun?

Eijun: More or less. More importantly, Haruichi…

Haruichi: What?

Eijun: I…why did I come here in the first place?

Haruichi: Eh?

[johannesviii]

Top 15 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2002

13 to 14 years old. Most of the year was pretty good. Summer was great. But in September I arrived in 2nd (local equivalent of 10th grade), so I was 14 in a class of mostly 15/16 years old students, and I looked so out of place that inevitably, bad shit started to happen very quickly.

Thankfully, it was a damn good year for hits. They say music never sounds better than when you are a teenager, as if that was a bad thing - but maybe they’re right? So yeah, nostalgia is in full force there. This year was so good for music, in fact, that this is a top 15 instead of 10. It was already super difficult to keep only 10 songs before I even looked at the French year-end list, and then I just gave up.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This list originally had SIX horribly painful cuts so I decided to do some damage control and make it a top 15. There’s still a whole bunch of honorable mentions, though.

Heaven remix (DJ Sammy) - [Insert here rant about Johannes liking overproduced dance garbage full of colors and lights]

Move b█tch (Ludacris) - Just a ton of fun to sing along that chorus.

Whenever Wherever (Shakira) - I claim overplay, but that is still legendary.

How You Remind Me (Nickelback) - Nobody’s gonna disagree if I say they’re a terrible band, but you gotta admit, their first hit was pretty great.

The Middle (Jimmy Eat World) - In a year full of fantastic earworms, some had to stay out of the list.

Can’t Fight the Moonlight (LeAnn Rimes) - Just re-read the previous statement.

Get the Party Started (Pink) - More on that later.

Inch’Allah (MC Solaar) - Not his best song by a mile (obviously; I mean, the guy who wrote a song about making Satan explode into antimatter can’t really top that because nobody can) but still very nice.

Cleanin’ Out My Closet (Eminem) - Yeah, the rethread of The Real Slim Shady is on the list and not this. What can I say, I told you I had bad taste.

Just Like a Pill (Pink) - The last cut from the list. I just really, really liked Pink, can you tell?

This is when I started to listen to the radio A LOT in my room, because my access to the family computer was restricted and radio was basically the only media I still had 100% access to and full control of. Which might explain why I suddenly liked a ton of pop music. Or maybe that year was simply really good. I guess it’s a mix of both.

Also, I still didn’t have a key to the appartment, but I was a lot less supervised when I was outside, and I would sometimes sneak out to go the library or to the disc store.

So... here’s some of the first singles I ever bought, for the record, and also because I think it’s fun to see all of them together.

They’re all on this list, just to clarify.

15 - I’m Gonna Getcha Good (Shania Twain)

US: Not on the list / FR: #67

Well, that was quick. So yeah, I loved this song. The accent meant I couldn’t understand half of the lyrics, but it was still a ton of fun and a delight every time it was on the radio.

14 - Wherever You Will Go (The Calling)

US: #5 / FR: #53

I didn’t love this song that much at the time and only put it on one tape, but it really grew on my over the years. Yeah, it’s your standard 2000s pop-rock song, objectively, but I don’t know. It didn’t have to go that hard with its metaphors. I mean the guy is ready to follow that person into hell and turn back time if necessary. I really don’t know. It shouldn’t work so well but it does for me. Maybe it’s because I’m very literal-minded.

13 - Le Chemin (Kyo ft. Sita)

US: Not on the list / FR: #55

Basically: A Ma Place by Axel Bauer & Zazie from the previous honorable mentions of 2001, except with half the amount of Hetero Drama(tm) and a pop-rock flavour to make it more palatable.

The first hit of a band it would very quickly be super cool to hate in my country (and I do mean very quickly, like a year or so) because everyone (including me, mind you) thought their lyrics were a bit too cringy even for pop-rock songs.

Doesn’t mean I didn’t buy the album and listened the shit out of it for like two years, though. The saddest part is that my favorite single from it by far, Je Cours (”I Run”), isn’t elligible for any list. Dammit.

12 - Murder On The Dancefloor (Sophie Ellis-Bextor)

US: Not on the list / FR: #26

This was a huge hit in Europe and somehow I thought it had reached the US, but apparently it didn’t. That’s a shame.

Also, overplay didn’t manage to kill it for me and that’s impressive.

11 - Complicated (Avril Lavigne)

US: #11 / FR: #83

Loved it, bought the single, loved it even more, and then one of my uncles sent me the album for christmas, and all was nice and good in the world.

For the record, I thought Sk8er Boi was one of the worst songs on the album (my favorite was My World), and I still dislike this particular song to this day, so this is why it’s nowhere to be found here.

10 - Don’t Let Me Get Me (Pink)

US: #36 / FR: Not on the list

You already know that because of the honorable mentions, but yeah, I loved Pink. This was the second album I decided I had to save money for months to acquire instead of just a single and which my parents would probably find acceptable. And this song is the best and it kicks some serious ass, on top of being full of self-loathing and extremely relatable at the time ("everyday I fight a war against the mirror, can't take the person staring back at me"? "I wanna be somebody else"?? Big, big dysphoria mood right there).

No regrets, baby.

9 - Hands Clean (Alanis Morissette)

US: #95 / FR: Not on the list

In just about every list I’ve made so far, there’s one song which makes me think “if I had better taste, this would be much higher”. This is one of these songs. Still love it, still put it on a tape and burned it on a cd. I found the cd in question again yesterday while making this list and it contains, in that exact order: Visage, Evanescence, Kyo, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark, Talk Talk, Scatman John, Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Shania Twain, INXS, Freur, Alizée, Linkin Park and this exact song by Alanis Morissette. It’s a great little time-capsule of my debatable tastes.

8 - Die Another Day (Madonna)

US: Not on the list / FR: #86

This has the same kind of weird, disjointed beat as Music, but it sounds much more aggressive and sinister. This dropped right when I started to have real problems at school, so it’s a bit difficult for me to listen to it nowadays without having unpleasant flashbacks at the same time, which is why it’s so low on the list even though I listened to it on a loop back in the day. It might be a subpar James Bond theme, and might have dumb lyrics (god the Sigmund Freud line sdfghjhgfdfg), but on its own? It’s great.

Also I loved the music video. My mother, obviously, hated it, which only made me like it more, because, I mean, obviously it did. That’s how it works when you’re 14.

Speaking of which.

7 - Without Me (Eminem)

US: #21 / FR: #11

By that point, it was becoming pretty clear that I would never be able to buy the music I wanted if my parents disapproved of it, so I had to be sneaky and buy every, uh “debatable” single with a second more acceptable single to hide the first one. The one I bought alongside this one was a cover of Désenchantée, sung by Kate Ryan.

Success.

It is, in fact, less good than The Real Slim Shady, and I could only understand about one third of the lyrics, but still. I listened to it a loooooot. Because I actually had that single and not the other one which it was basically referencing to the point of self-parody. And just like the other one, I obviously don’t endorse all the lyrics, and the beat is great.

6 - All the Things She Said (Tatu)

US: Not on the list / FR: #12

Just like Die Another Day this one is a bit difficult to listen to nowadays for me but it’s a monster of a hit nonetheless. Have to say, though: I listened to Not Gonna Get Us even more, which means THAT one is even more linked to bad memories, to the point of basically being unlistenable because it triggers a literal fight-or-flight response with me. Not kidding in the slightest. Still love it though.

5 - J’ai Demandé à la Lune (Indochine)

US: Not on the list / FR: #4

This is one of my least favorite hit songs from Indochine. It’s still #5 on a list where I had to keep 15 entries instead of 10. This is because almost no other song I really really like from them will ever be elligible for these lists and if I can’t put a single Indochine song somewhere, especially from the Paradize album, I will have to punch a wall, dammit.

So here. Have the one in which the guy asks the moon if his significant other still loves him and where the moon answers “dude it’s not my problem”.

I love them and Paradize is an absolute monster of an album which rightfully made them relevant again, from new wave sensations of the 80s to favorite mainstream band for every young French punk/goth kid ever in the 2000s. This is not a diss, by the way, considering I was very clearly in that core demographic. Especially if you look at the top three I made for that year (and for the next one but let’s not get ahead of ourselves).

4 - A Thousand Miles (Vanessa Carlton)

US: #6 / FR: #51

Yeah yeah, you knew this was coming when you saw that pic of the first singles I bought, and you can start laughing now. I know it’s basically a meme now (and a good one, mind you), but sometimes, songs are remembered for more than one reason, and you have to admit that one is still great on its own. I listened to it SO. MUCH. Especially before everything started to go wrong for me that year, so basically this is the sound of “how things should have been”, and it’s so pleasant and nice to listen to it even today. It’s no longer on my mp3 player, but, no joke, I think it stayed on it from the day I bought my first mp3 player to something like 2017. Is it an indicator of quality or yet another indicator of my debatable taste? Probably both.

In any other year, there would be a clear #1 either towering above the other songs or just slightly ahead of the rest. 2002 was so good I can’t, for the life of me, decide which of these next three songs is the best one, even subjectively, in a “hey I like this one a little bit more” kind of way.

So I’m ranking the top 3 according to the lengths I went to to listen to each of these songs at the time.

Let’s go.

3 - C’est Une Belle Journée (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #46

This is what I’d call the Last Great Mylène Farmer Song. Oh she was still making music, pretty great music, in fact, after that. She’s still making decent stuff nowadays, from time to time. But in my opinion, it’s all downhill from there.

Still. This kickstarted my obsession with her at the time, because someone (I still have no idea who that was) was foolish enough to buy me the cd for Christmas. This is also why it’s #3 and not higher; I didn’t have to work at all to listen to it.

So... This is a song about killing yourself, disguised as a bouncy energetic pop tune. And it works horribly well. It’s very vaguely sinister but if you don’t listen to it very closely, it’s nearly impossible to notice what it’s actually about (translation here), and it charted super high and for a super long time without any controversy in its wake.

As I said: all downhill from there, because... how do you even top this?

2 - Lose Yourself (Eminem)

US: #63 / FR: Not on the list

You probably guessed this was coming. I’m not sure what the consensus for the “best Eminem hit song” is nowadays, but that one has to be pretty high on the list. And it’s also kind of a meme because of the spaghetti line, I know, but still, quality, man. The most important thing about it in the context of this list is that it was juuuuust slow enough to allow me to understand most of the important parts with my still-limited English, and I loved the little story it told. I remember trying to put it on a tape for days and waiting for it to pop up on the radio and instantly pressing Record after the first note.

And of course I wanted to see 8 Mile and I couldn’t, but a few months later, the local book/dvd/music store, which had screens broadcasting scenes from new stuff they were selling, had a screen with a few battle rap scenes from 8 Mile on it, and once I noticed I stood in front of the screen for a long time in silent admiration. What can I say, I was an angry little thing, and seeing angry people fighting each other in ways where no-one gets hurt was very satisfying and cathartic.

1 - In the End (Linkin Park)

US: #7 / FR: Not on the list

The music video had hilariously bad cgi even at the time, just to clarify. But yeah, that sound right there had the perfect balance of color, energy, sadness and anger to be the hit of the year for me back then. And I could understand nearly all the lyrics! I. Loved it. The local library had Hybrid Theory and I listened to it so. MUCH (my favorite song on it was actually One Step Closer (singing CAUSE I’M ONE-STEP-CLOSER-TO-THE-EDGE, ANDI’MABOUTTOBREAK felt great) and I thought Crawling was a bit embarrassing). Thank god that library didn’t have fines if you returned your stuff after the due date because I had to wait until I was able to make a copy of it first. The “parents-proof” “”cryptic”” label I wrote on said copy wasn’t particularly cryptic, though, and I’m gonna share it with you right now because that’s kind of funny.

So what do you do when you’re 14, pretty sure you understood the whole song, are finally able to listen to the whole album, burn it on a cd, and listen to it way too often? You write down the lyrics, painstakingly, with a fountain pen, in a small notebook where you try to write down the lyrics of every single song you love & can understand entirely. That’s what you do. Of course.

When I stopped doing that in 2007, there were two notebooks like that. I lost one of them, apparently, but the one I was able to find already had 63 songs in it. I finally had my own internet access later that year and I could find all the lyrics I wanted whenever I wanted, and I stopped doing that once and for all.

But it helped me get a lot better with English, so in the end, it doesn’t even matter.

So yeah, In the End?

Loved it and loved that band. I still do.

Next up: wow, “all edge no point”, uh?

[alter-me-away-from-public-eye]

Synopsis: Alex is Jared Padalecki’s cousin and bestfriend. She first meets Jensen Ackles when he came to Jared’s but lost contact with him after the break. But when the Supernatural cast went to Italy for a convention, they now have a second chance at a relationship.

Warnings: Slight smut, fluff

Part 6: First Date (Mostly Alex)

Jared

I woke up with somebody else's leg over my own. Looking at the clock on my bedside table without having to wake up Alex, and seeing that it was only 7 in the morning, I wanted to go back to sleep so bad. But when I closed my eyes, I felt the leg vanish over me and movement clear beside me. Slowly, I turned around to see Alex already sitting on the edge of the bed with her face staring at her phone screen.

"Why are up so early?" I asked.

"Jensen asked me out on a date." she whispered.

I knew. Jensen asked me first if he could ask her out on a date. Of course I said he could but only if she wanted to.

"I know. He told me"

"He did?" She frowned. "I suppose you told him to go for it, right?"

"Naturally. Why? What's wrong?"

She shifted unconsciously and turned to look at me. "I said yes but I'm not sure if I should have."

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "I guess I don't want to start something I know I couldn't finish."

This time, I sighed. Alex knows the struggle of dating a celebrity. And I have myself to blame for that. Of all the girls I've dated before, no one really stayed, mostly because of the schedule I had. If I ever dated someone from the industry, none lasted longer than a year. And Alex knows all about it. She thinks guys with my kind of job would do better with girls who doesn't work or go to school so the girl won't mind having to leave at the last minute or travel for a long time. But she also says having a girl like that would mean we have to work double to pay for everything.

"Long distance relationships do exist, Al." I tried telling her. "Like us."

"It's not the same. You're my cousin and I know even though we don't get to talk for a long time, you will always be there. And I don't have to worry about you cheating on me, duh." she rolled her eyes at me. "Not like it matters anyway. I won't let this get farther."

Knowing my cousin, nothing I say would change her mind. Instead, I'd just let her be and hope Jensen can actually get through her.

Alex

I have nothing to wear tonight.

Jensen will be picking me up in a few hours yet I'm still wearing sweats. I called up my mom if she'd like to go shopping but she said she had matters to attend. I have my other cousins in town that might come but I don't really want to bother them today especially since it looks like another thunderstorm is coming. Maybe Jensen will cancel the date, though.

As I was actually hoping for a cancelation, my phone buzzed.

Jensen: Wear something nice. Don't worry about the storm. It'll pass soon.

"Great." I mumbled to myself.

Not knowing a lot of people here, I called the only person I know I can bother as much as I like. My brother.

"Hey Max, wanna go shopping?"

"No."

"C'mon! My treat!" I bribed.

I heard a muffled sound over the phone, probably asking dad if he could go shopping with me. "Yeah sure, but I'm driving."

We got to the mall just in time as rain started pouring. It's only half past 11 so I still had hours left before the date. Max wanted to eat first, and being the best sister that I am, I let him choose where. We ended up eating at some italian restaurant, of all places. Max's taste buds are very italian, unlike mine. I still prefer good ol' grilled steak.

I can see a lot of girls eyeing my brother while he sat there not having a care in the world. I must say, between us siblings, Max got the better genes. He's more European than he is American. And he's tall too. 15 and already catching up with me. Mind you, I'm the tallest among my friends.

I dragged him inside a boutique I found that seemed alright. There weren't much people around so it was easy to look around. Even though Max hated shopping, I can always depend on his choices. I took out a few dresses to try and each one I had Max to judge. Two dresses out, I'm already trying on the third one. It was a simple backless black dress with a slit on one side that stops right on my thigh. It wasn't slutty but it's not completely innocent either, just the right amount.

I walked out from the changing room and Max nodded approvingly. I looked in the mirror and thought, for about half a second, that I looked like the kind if person I would totally have a girl crush on if I haven't really known myself. I changed back to my original clothes and paid for the dress. The saleslady recommended buying the black pair of heels it goes best with and I did. Satisfied, I left the store and looked for Max. He was already waiting for me by the railings.

"Do you want anything?" I asked.

"I might need new shoes." He smirked. I nodded and let him lead the way. We went inside a Nike store and his face instantly lit up. If there's one thing I know about my brother, it's his love for shoes and books. As he was out there choosing, I sat by one of the benches they had. I took out my phone and noticed I received an email.

To: Alex Lewis

Subject: Project

I'm sorry to bother you this holiday season, Ms. Lewis. The client wants a little alteration in the design. I'm sending you the details with this message and hope that you can find the time to look it over while you are at the America.

R. S.

I groaned. It was enough to think about a date with Jensen, but to add another work problem is a disaster. I decided to stay at one issue at a time and actually focus on tonight's event since it has been a while since I've been on a date.

Max came up to me a few minutes later with a pair of sneakers on hand. I gave him my card and told him to pay for it himself. He happily took it and walked away. At least someone is happy.

We got to the hotel around three in the afternoon. I still have to inform Jensen to pick me up at the hotel instead of Jared's house. As soon as I sent the message, I quickly went to shower. My body relaxes as the warm water hit my skin.

I stepped out of the shower smelling like strawberries and peach, dried my hair and body, and put on black lacy underwear. Then, I put on the dress effortlessly. Living in Milan, a fashion driven city, I learned to dress up. I applied a little make up and brushed my hair carefully. Just as I was about to be done, Max knocked and peeked a little through the open door.

"Some guy left this for you." He handed me a white box tied with a black ribbon.

"What guy?" I asked.

"The one at Jared's backyard. He called me down."

I opened the box and a beautiful silver necklace with a heart pendant surprised me. This is just what I need to complete the look! I slowly put it on me and without thinking, I touched the heart shaped pendant.

"He said he'll be waiting at the lobby." Max informed.

I nodded.

It took me about 10 minutes to reach the lobby. He was sitting at the couch wearing a black suit and tie. So formal. I didn't realize we were matching outfits. When he saw me, he immediately stood and walked towards me. I smiled at him and took the hand he offered.

"You look beautiful" he whispered.

"You don't look bad yourself" I giggled.

He led me to a black SUV and I got in. He walked over to the driver's seat and started the ignition. All my worries washed away by how beautiful the night was. No one would think it rained like hell earlier because tonight, the sky was as clear as it can be.

I don't know how long we've been driving but we stopped outside a rather small restaurant just outside town. Being the gentleman that he is, he opened the door for me and offered his hand. I gladly took it and let him lead me inside.

The restaurant was lit dimly but just enough for me to realize where we are. I thought it was a simple dinner but when I looked around, I saw the most beautiful paintings all over the room. We were guided by a host to our seats. There aren't a lot of people here tonight. It was just me, Jensen, and two other couples by the end of the room.

"This is wonderful." I said, a little too pleased.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Thanks for the necklace, by the way." I beamed, touching the pendant with my index and thumb.

"No problem. It looks perfect on you." I've never seen him smile so wide and bright like tonight. At that moment, all my fears seemed to disappear. Somehow I hoped this wouldn't be the last.

We ordered our food, had champagne, and talked a little about our day until the food arrived.

"By the way, I forgot to give you this the other day." He took out a cd from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

I turned it over and squealed excitedly. He gave me a Panic! at the Disco album on our date! "I can't seem to stop thanking you tonight." I smiled.

"You don't have to. Having you here with me is more than enough"

Dinner came through smoothly. Jensen was so easy to talk to. He's funny, charming, and looking like a greek god clearly didn't help my plan to turn him down. I don't think I can ever turn him down.

He asked for the check and I offered to pay at least half of the bill but he wouldn't hear of it. When we got out, I thought we'd go directly to the car but he took my hand on his and guided me through the sidewalk. I felt the cold breeze on my back I started to shiver. He must have felt it because he let go of my hand and took his jacket off and put on me. I smiled as I felt the warmth and scent of his body still stuck inside the coat. He took my hand again and I was more than glad to accept. With courage, I intertwined my fingers with his. He seemed to be happy with it as he tightened his grip on my hand. We stopped at a park bench just a few blocks from the restaurant. We never said a word since we started walking but I wasn't complaining. We said more than we can without even talking.

"Thank you." I whispered.

He looked at me with the same wide and bright smile before slowly leaning closer to me. I was staring at his beautiful green eyes as he was getting closer. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips brush on mine for a second and then let go. I opened my eyes and saw those green eyes again, staring intently. Without a second thought, his lips were connected to mine once again, this time more passionately. He placed a hand on my cheek and another on my waist, pulling me closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck to do the same. I felt his tongue touch my lower lip and I parted my lips just enough to allow him enter. We were like that for a few minutes before needing to part and breathe.

"can we continue this over at my place?" he whispered. I felt shivers over my body at his voice. Not trusting my own, I nodded. We walked back to the restaurant with hands intertwined and hearts one.

The drive back to his house was longer than anticipated. I wasn't sure what to expect when we get there. I don't normally go sneaking around on the first date, much more sneak around with the kind of person I never expected to sneak around with.

The moment his front door closed, he had me pinned on the wall and kissed the italian out of me. His hands were on my waist, tightening. Mine were around his neck pulling him closer. I felt a bulge on my thigh and giggled through the kiss.

"Somebody's a little excited." I whispered on his ear as he left lingering kisses on my neck.

"What are you doing to me?" He whispered back, a moan escaping his lips when I grinded my hips over his hardening pants.

He took off his tie in a matter of seconds and led me to his room. I walked over to the bed and sat at the edge, removing my shoes. Slowly, I let one strap of my dress slip off revealing half of my chest to him. He was still standing by the door, leaning, with a huge plastered smile on his face and eyes filled with so much emotion.

With all the courage I could gather, I stood and I let my dress fall off me, leaving me in nothing but my black lacy panties.

"are you just gonna stand there gawking?" I whispered.

"I might." he responded, hands travelling to unbutton his black shirt and moving closer. His gesture towards the bed may as well be the unveiling of my heart. And the stripping of all my clothes. I could feel my legs getting weaker by the moment as the cool air brushed my naked torso. In attempt to keep my core controlled and not come at the view, I tightened my legs together. But the moan that escaped my mouth gave all of it up.

He ran his hand up and down my shoulder as he kissed the top of my head. .

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Yes."

He pushed me gently on the bed as I felt my back hit the soft mattress. He was hovering over me, shirtless, kissing and sucking on my jaw. I closed my eyes in pleasure and found my hands roaming over his back. He nibbled softly on my neck causing me to whimper. He smiled at himself and went further down to my breast. He sucked one nipple softly while a hand kneaded the other. We were both whimpering as I reached in between our bodies to unbutton his dress pants. His breathing hitched as I found his lips back on my own. I pushed his pants down and he wiggled to get it off him. I felt his covered hard cock rub against my covered wetness as his hands tightened around my waist.

He pulled away before slowly removing his boxers. His quivering member, hard and swollen, sprang free. I saw him smirk when I tried to cover a moan. He hovered back over me and kissed my forehead. His right hand travelled down slowly, leaving soft touches all over my body as he reached my stomach. Without warning, he pushed a hand inside my underwear causing me to moan loudly and yank his hair. He rubbed my clit softly as I try to close my legs.

"Keep them open." he whispered.

I obliged and arched my back as he rubbed harder. He brushed his fingers across my folds to gather the wetness and went to push a finger inside me. I moaned louder than I hoped as he added another finger and began pushing it in and out, curling them in the process. I felt my legs shake and my stomach fill as I was close to releasing. "Come for me" he said while nibbling on my ear. And so I did. I came on his hands, trembling.

He kissed me softly as he pulled my underwear down. He reached to grab a small packet on his night stand and tore it open.

He looked over me before kissing me again. "Tell me if you want to stop."

I nodded.

I felt his hand on my waist as I reached over his shoulders. He was looking intently at me trying to figure if I had second thoughts. I smiled at him and kissed his nose. He reached in between us and pumped his cock a few times before rubbing it along my slit. My breathing grew heavier by the time and I moaned quietly. He carefully aligned himself into my entrance and pushed inside slowly. I closed my eyes at the sudden feeling and wrapped my legs around him. He stayed motionless for about a minute before slowly pulling himself out. I gasped as he pushed back in. Pleasure went over me and I pulled him closer. He kissed my neck with so much passion as my hands went to grip on his hair. His pace increased, hitting my gspot repeatedly and by then, we were both a moaning mess.

"So perfect" he whispered and reached over to rub my clit.

I felt my release growing closer and closer, eyes still closed from all the pleasure.

"I'm gonna come" I moaned into his ear.

"Come for me, babe." I felt him twitch inside me and couldn't stop myself from coming all over his cock. I trembled under him and he continued to push and pull out, making sloppy noises as he did. His breathing hitched and his pace became more and more irregular. About two thrusts in, his cock twitched again and spilled his juices inside me. He thrusted a few more times to help both of us ride our highs before stopping. He staying inside of me for a few more minutes, green eyes scanning my face, and fingers brushing hair strands over my ear.

He pulled himself out and rolled next to me. He pulled me in towards his chest and kissed the top of my hair.

"You are amazing in every way." he said with full emotion.

I smiled as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his hands run up and down my bare back. He pulled the covers over us with his free hand and pulled me closer as possible. His warmth was enough to help me sleep.

"Good night, J." I whispered.

"Good night, Alex."

Jensen

I woke up to the smell of strawberries washing over me, my arms around a beautiful girl curled next to my naked body. I can't help but smile thinking about last night. It wasn't just sex. No. It was more than that.

I gently brushed a finger over her cheek and her eyes flutter open.

"Good morning." she spoke, snuggling closer into me.

"Good morning." I said, leaning in for a quick peck on her forehead.

We stayed like that for a few minutes before she rolled off the bed and fished through her purse, looking for something. When she found what she's been looking for, she came climbing back to straddle on my chest, naked. I laughed when she brushed her leg on my side but before I can stop, she snapped a photo of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Making a memory." She answered, leaning in for a quick kiss.

I grabbed her waist and pulled her to the side as I rolled on top of her. She laughed. I found myself in awe at the movement of her lips and can't help but stare.

"Stop looking at me like that." She giggled.

"Like what?" I smirked.

"Like that." she pointed at me, giggling. I pushed myself into her, enough to be able to rest my head under her chin without crushing her with my weight. I felt her hand play with the hair at the back of my head and another rubbing circles on my back.

"As much as I want to stay, I really need to go." She whispered.

I can hear myself grunt. "Five minutes." I pleaded.

She sighed but nodded.

"Let me drive you home." I offered when we reached the front door.

"You don't have to. I called a cab." she replied, smiling.

I leaned for another kiss which she responded with enthusiasm. Her hair was tied in a messy pony tail, face washed fresh without any makeup, shoes in hand, and a borrowed shirt. But still, I can't seem to help myself think she's the most beautiful girl I've seen in the world.

"Call me when you get home." I said. She got in the cab and waved goodbye.

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