#did i have to colour his nips myself? yes. was it funny? yes.

[bahngerz]

Bang Chan by TinyzooOO, recoloured.

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [13]

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 13.5 OR Chapter 14

➜ Words: 2.6k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

The day has finally arrived.   After two months of ruthless rehearsals, the tension is still running high. Everyone is experiencing their own stresses, especially considering that it’s the first showing of an original production.   The director still remains friendly, but he forces a smile when he greets the crew. Taehyung’s hand is permanently glued onto his coffee mug handle. The producers and writers are always sprinting past with their hair in disarray. Even you and Jimin are beginning to feel the pressure.   “One, two, three. One, two, three…” — “Point your toes! Your arms need to be higher!”   You look away from the script to the small stage. And right at that moment, Yeonjeon slips.   She stumbles onto the ground and cusses underneath her breath, brows furrowed hard enough to hurt. The choreographer sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Wrong. Wrong.” She waves her hand and the music in the background stops. “How do you not have it down?! The performance is in three days! You were doing it perfectly well last week?! What’s wrong with you, Yeonjeon?”   The actress wears a defeated expression, she opens her mouth before closing it, not able to come up with an excuse. But you walk over anyhow, quickening your steps. “She hasn’t slept,” you defend her, eyes pleading. “That’s why.”   You crouch down to help her up. Yeonjeon glares, but doesn’t refuse your hand, though it’s futile. She stumbles as she tries to rise, leaning her weight on you before falling back onto the ground again.   The choreographer exhales and nods. “Go get some rest then and be ready for tomorrow. If you wear yourself down so early, you won’t be able to perform at all.”   She walks away and Yeonjeon pouts at you.   Soon after, the two of you are backstage in a corner. Her ankle is in your lap and you wrap it carefully with white bandages. “How’d you know I didn’t sleep?” Yeonjeon childishly sulks at you, her eyes pointed, but you don’t feel as intimidated as she intends you to feel.   “I heard you mention it. Not intentionally.” You rush to say, “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”   The female scoffs, twisting her features and ruining her own beauty. “Why are you helping me, huh? Do you even know what I did to you?!”   She’s trying to get you as upset as she feels, and it’s amusing. In many ways, Yeonjeon reminds you of yourself. You wonder if this is what Jimin felt. “Doesn’t matter.”   “You’re an idiot,” she spits. “You’re supposed to hate me.”   “Hating people is tiresome.” You finish up before pressing a pack of ice to her ankle. She hisses at the coldness. “You should lay off that ankle for a while. Hopefully the swelling will go down, but if doesn’t, go see a doctor.”   “I know how to take care of myself, idiot,” Yeonjeon huffs, pushing your hands off of her to hold the ice herself. “Your kindness is irritating, you know that? I tried to steal your boyfriend,” she confesses out of the blue, itching to see you riled up.    But you don’t give it to her.   You simply stare with a blank expression.   She rolls her tongue in her cheek, waiting. But it never comes.   Yeonjeon gives up, and mutters with a downcast head, “But you don’t need to worry. He rejected my advances like I was gonna kill him. Your fucking boyfriend’s stupidly loyal, so you deserve each other. Idiots.”   You burst out laughing.   She becomes even more furious. “What?! You think this is funny to you?!”   “No.” You smile at her. “You just sort of remind me of someone.”   “Who?”   “Me. I was jealous once and I grew to hate that person, so I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll try my best not to be overbearing and to get out of your way.”   “I’m not jealous!” Yeonjeon scoffs again. “The more you talk, the more I hate you. Has anyone ever told you that your sincerity is sickening? I feel like throwing up. God, you and Park really do deserve each other. It’s disgusting.”   You’re unable to resist the grin that forms on your face and that only makes the female pout harder.

For the sake of peace, you try to get out of Yeonjeon’s way.    But she’s the one who approaches you. Her arms are crossed, eyes diverted elsewhere, but she mumbles about how if you want her to hate you less, you’d give her Kim Seokjin’s number. Unfortunately, you have no such thing, and she calls you useless before dragging you over to the lobby, waiting for him to come out of his usual rehearsals.   The Phantom production might be going down the drain, but Jin’s face certainly isn’t.   While you’d usually admire that godly man from afar like many others, this time you watch as Yeonjeon horrifyingly approaches him. Of course he rejects her, but then you get the chance to witness her stick up her middle fingers and sing a string of cusses to him.   Her psychoticness cements an unlikely friendship with you.   “Wait, we aren’t going out tonight?”   “I’m going to a movie premiere with Yeonjeon.” You shrug, moving past Jimin. “Apparently she knows one of the actors who talked badly about her to people and she wants to curse him out for it. She also wants to network with the producers there.”   “How is that going to work out for her?” Jimin asks, confused at the contradicting plans.   You giggle. “You tell me.”   Jimin sulks and slinks up from behind. He wraps his arms around your waist, propping his chin on your shoulder. “You’re spending so much time with her lately, what about me, huh?”   You turn around to face him with his arms still encircling you. “Jealous?”   “Yes,” he shamelessly admits. “All I want is to spend a little time with my girlfriend.”   “We ate lunch together.”   “Yeah, but I can’t talk when I’m trying to chew.”   “You see me every night.”   “Oh, I do a little more than seeing.” Jimin wiggles his brows and you lightly hit him in the chest, causing laughter to squeeze out of him. “Plus, why are you spending time with Yeonjeon of all people? She’s so cold to me now — she doesn’t even look twice at me anymore or even acknowledge my existence. She’s only friendly during the actual performance.”   “Why?” Your brow cocks and you quirk your head to one side. “You want her to flirt with you again?”   “That’s not what I’m saying,” the brunette whines. “How’d you get on her good side?”   “I can’t help that I’m just lovable.” You leave his arms, walking towards the bedroom to get changed.   Jimin follows and leans against the door frame with a grin. “Well, you’re not wrong about that.”   //   Practice ensues relentlessly.   And much to Taehyung’s dismay, the director becomes more hysterical. “And once you reach this part of the stage, everyone raise your arms? Yes, yes!”    “More passion! Louder! More grand gestures! More!” — “Can we get the spotlight right here?” — “I thought the prop was bigger than this! Where’s the bigger size?! We need bigger and better!”   “Oh my god,” Taehyung often groans, and while you try to help him, he always refuses and cites that if you did his job better then he’d get fired.   From dancing to singing, every detail is nitpicked and polished. “Sing with it as ‘ae’ instead of ‘ah’” — “Elbows out please!” — “Let’s do three twirls instead of four.”   But soon enough, dress rehearsal comes and you can’t believe it’s actually time.    “This is it, everyone. Last chance to ask or fix anything!”   Months of practice has led up to this point — your entire life and career thus far, what you’ve worked so hard for, what you aspired, it’s arrived. You’re excited as you are nervous, and mostly overwhelmed. But with Jimin here, you have the bravery to face the audience, to stand in the spotlight, and hear their applause.   The curtains rise in the same auditorium where you sat months ago to watch Jimin perform. Now that seat is taken by someone else and you’re on the stage. The stage that’s ready for you.   The lights dim. Slow music begins to play. You’re the first to enter the scene, treading through the thick fog on the ground. The right side of the stage is dimly illuminated and you stumble into the spotlight while looking off to the top of the stairs where a young brunette once stood.    Something begins to dust down to you. You’re equally amazed and horrified.    It nips at your nose and your brows furrow. “What’s going on?”   Your voice echoes throughout the audience and you hold your hand out. Snow begins to fall and you run off after a gasp. At the same time, the townspeople begin to flood in, marching through the blizzard with the first song.   The show continues with Jimin and Yeonjeon falling in love, how you’re forced to watch from afar until you try to break apart their relationship.   “There may be no sunshine or daytime, or flowers or warmth, but there’s you.”   “There’s you,” Jimin sings back to you, tone warm.   “There’s us,” you harmonize together. Loudly and clearly, facing one another with shared smiles that are all too real. “There’s us, together in this snowfield, together in this cold winter.”   The story progresses with how Winter forces the Summer fantasy to shatter, how Jimin comes to terms with the new world around him before succumbing to his love and refusing the truth.   “Eugene. What are you doing here?” Yeonjeon twirls around, the fabric of her dress moving with her. She exhales shakingly, both surprised and relieved. “I thought they told you to stay away from me.”   They meet one another halfway and he looks down at her. “Do you think I could’ve?”   “There’s no point.” Yeonjeon shakes her head and turns around. “I’m leaving.”   “Let me come with you.” He grabs her arm, stopping her before she can flee from him. He pulls her closer to him.   “I can’t. I’m running away. Running away from this winter.”   “Where to?”   “Beyond the sunrise and sunset, where summer still exists,”   “Do you think summer exists there?” Jimin asks, entranced by the mere idea.   “There has to be.” Their eyes meet and the orchestra pulls its strings, filling the auditorium with a wondrous and light melody.   Yeonjeon parts her lips, inhaling a breath. “You’ve come to save me.”   “I’ve come to love you.” He sings to her and they hold onto each other.   There are others dancing in the background and Jimin spins her around gently, the two of them sharing an intimate dance. The audience is mesmerized, breaths held as they watch.   “No love is better than ours,” they sing, voices melting together. “A rose-coloured world.”   The song ends with them gazing at each other and then sharing a soft kiss of longing.   “Why can’t you listen to me?!” you shout, closing the distance through three wide strides. “You will die if you leave. There is nothing beyond the horizons. Nothing! You will die!”   Jimin’s eyes are glossed over and he’s staring over your head with a dreamy expression, tiny smile gracing his lips. “Do you see that?”   “See what?” You glance over your shoulder before looking back at him. “There’s nothing there.”   “No…” Jimin walks off, entirely captivated like he’s under a spell. “It’s dandelion seeds floating in the sky. I can see it. It’s so pretty.”   “It’s winter,” you reason with your frustration increasing. “There aren’t any dandelions.”   But he walks off anyhow. You run after him, calling him at the top of your lungs.   The intermission of the show allows a fifteen minute break where you race to the bathroom and then psych yourself up for the last stretch of the performance. And you mimic what you’ve prepared, conveying emotions to the best of your abilities, allowing spite to take over you. Your character brews a storm to unleash, a storm of winter to both the past and the present.    But your lies inadvertently drives Jimin farther away, and in the end, you sacrifice yourself to save him — something the main female character takes credit for. The pair of them eventually run away together with dazed expressions, but happy nonetheless.   During the grand finale with all the storylines wrapped up and with the entire cast singing the last song, everyone comes onto the stage again. Jimin finds you and holds your hand, exchanging smiles and laughter as confetti strips blast and surrounding you both in a mosaic of vivid hues. You stand beside one another, facing the bright spotlight that doesn’t seem so frightening anymore.   And the audience rises together, giving a standing ovation. The applause roars throughout the auditorium, and you bow, waving goodbye. It could not be a better Broadway debut.

“Min Yoonji just released her review.”   “Really?” You hop up on the bed, leaning over to his phone screen. “What does it say?”   “The production of When Summer Meets Winter, albeit new and still in its infancy of development, is both surprisingly lively and very entertaining….” Jimin reads, voice trailing off.   “Does it really say that?!” You’re shocked, but a grin spreads across your face.   “While the romantic storyline is sustained through the main male lead and main female lead, Eugene and Sana respectively, it is certainly most felt through the main male lead and the female villain.”   He exchanges a look with you and smiles. Jimin can’t resist, so he throws his phone down and kisses you instead. He tackles you to the mattress, pinning you on your back, but you manage to squirm away, slipping out of his grasps. You grab the phone to continue reading.   “The production overall is a happy story for the indulgence of hopeless romantics, but it is undeniable that there is an underlying tragedy that will pull at the heartstrings of even those who don’t care for romance,” you read out loud, voice cracking and stuttering. “I would go as far as to argue that the story’s central focus was not on the primary protagonists but the female antagonist who successfully displayed a variety of emotions on stage.”   You’re sniffling, about to burst into tears. A thick, painful lump forms in your throat.   Jimin takes the phone with a laugh and moves a few paragraphs down, skipping the commentary of costumes of musical choices, continuing for you. “The production of When Summer Meets Winter is phenomenal in spite of being an original that still needs work and development. Looks like people on Broadway still know how it needs to be done.”   Finally, he’s able to toss his phone to the side, and he cheers. “It’s a stellar hit! We’re going to make so much money!”   “I thought Min Yoonji hated me!”

“Why?” He grins mischievously, nosing your cheek. “Didn’t she defend you in her other article?”   “She made me lose my job.” You pout even though you full well know it was a blessing in disguise.    “Should I go beat her up then?” Jimin’s eyes twinkle, causing you to burst out into giggles.   “I’m pretty sure you would lose. She looks pretty tough.”   “Hey, I’m tough too,” your boyfriend argues, but you shift to sit up on him, straddling his hips. Jimin breathing becomes shallow, watching you, and you squish his cheeks in one hand.   “You seem pretty soft to me,” you playfully quip. Jimin scoffs and pulls you down for a hug, letting you lay right on top of him. He snuggles into you. “How does it feel to be famous now?”   He sighs softly with a smile. “Amazing. But mainly because you’re here.”

[aroaceslytherin]

Fairytales Always Have a Twist

Hope Howell had always believed in fairy-tales. She loved reading about them in big chairs at the library close to the motel room she called home. She grew up lonely. A wallflower with the nickname “anti-social bookworm” with no parents to turn to. They abandoned her when she was six years old. So she was told.

Hope ran from the Christian orphanage at sixteen, found a minor job as a waitress in her favourite cafe, found a home in motel rooms, and shopped at farmers’ markets. She went through guys like no one’s business; making out with them under the bleachers at school (she was forever grateful of the family she lived with for two years for keeping her in school even if they could not keep her any longer), or finding them in the libraries, at the farmers markets, or even bars. Yet she struggled to find one that accepted a poor and orphaned weirdo.

That all changed when she was being chased down an alley-way at twenty-two by an inky black shadowed figure.

“STOP RUNNING!” Someone yelled from in front of her.

It was too late, she barrelled into the person and tumbled to the ground with them.

The stranger jumped to their feet, shielding her under his arm as he blasted some sort of light at the thing that was chasing her. Hope clung to the stranger as she breathed deeply to calm her adrenaline. It was a huge mistake as this was the best smell she had ever smelled in all of her life.

He took a firm grip on her shoulders and held her upright, his amber eyes looking into her dark brown orbs with worry. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Diolch.” She answered. “What was that thing?”

“Boggart.” He answered firmly and confidently. He chuckled at her confused expression. “Amortal shape-shifting non-being that takes on the attacker or observer’s worst fear. In your case, just an inky blob as I assume you are non-magic?”

Magic?! Oh my God! That explains the light. She chuckled half-heartedly. “Your kidding, right? Who are you? You're a wizard?”

He extended his hand. “Proper introduction, I see. Right, pardon me.” He cleared his throat, squaring himself. “Lyall Lupin.”

She shook his hand firmly with a nod. “Hope Howell.” She giggled. “Should you be telling me this?”

“Aye, I graduated not that long ago. I am cleared. Anywhere ‘round here nice enough to chat and tell you my story?”

“Asking me out just minutes of meeting?”

Lyall shrugged, hands in his pockets, looking around the alley-way.

I would suggest my home, but that would be weird with a stranger and… well… would he judge me? He seems like he comes from a wealthy family. Take a risk, Hope. This could be it for you! Fairy-tales, remember? And damn does he look like a prince! Don’t forget magic… okay, this isn’t just about that. He’s a nice guy, shouldn’t go after him just cause’ of that. Off topic… oh! Answer him, Jesus! “Uh, yeah. If it isn’t too weird we could go to my place?”

He nodded. “Sounds fine to me. I won’t bite.” He joked. “Happen to have a car? I wouldn’t want you to leave it around here.”

Nice, considerate, and funny. How the hell did he get here? Why was I fated to meet him? She nodded, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Yeah, just a short walk that way.” She pointed to the left where they had entered the alley from. “I had just ended my shift when that thing chased me from my car. Boggart, you said?” She looked up at him as they walked, his eyes darting across the dimly lit streets like he was looking for something.

“Uh, yes.” He answered, sprinting to the driver’s side and opening it for her. “M'lady.”

She blushed softly, minding her head as she dropped herself into the seat. Gentleman. No guy has ever held doors for me, not that I mind because I can do it myself, but it would have been nice sometimes.

She started the ignition as Lyall got in her car.

If I wake up in the morning and this is all a dream, I will hunt him down. This is way too real like to be a dream, but yet he is so chivalrous that it seems like a dream. Dreams can be realistic. Although reality can be like a dream as well.

She pulled into the motel parking lot, her heart pounding as she thought of all the worst-case scenarios but when she looked over at Lyall, he was getting out of the car like nothing was unusual. He bent over to look at her.

“Expecting me to know which one’s yours?” He smiled.

Hope smiled back, turning off the ignition and grabbing her bag as she threw her keys in then grabbed her motel key.

“Just over here.” She answered, guiding him to the stairs.

The dim light did little to aid her, and she growled in frustration, blindly guiding the key into the slot with growing frustration as the nighttime air became colder, nipping at her bare arms.

Lyall looked around before pulling his wand from his sleeve and giving her light. Hope glanced up at him with a blank expression before looking back at the key and jamming it into the slot before forcefully turning it and kicking the door open with her heeled foot.

“Damn door.” She grumbled, throwing her bag to the floor and her keys in the dish on her counter. Lyall shimmied the door shut and locked them in. Hope let her light brown curls cascade down her back as she headed to the bathroom. “I’m just going to get comfortable. Make yourself as comfortable as you can, if you desire.”

Lyall looked around from where he stood to take in the room; a queen bed just a few inches from touching the wallpapered walls, a green couch with a coffee table in front near a small kitchenette, and the small closet next to the bathroom sink and small bathroom Hope was in. He made his way to the couch and took a seat when the bathroom door squeaked open and Hope emerged.

“It’s not much-” she started.

“It is completely fine. I am just telling you my story.” He chuckled. “I just met you. What kind of blokes have you been with?”

She sat on the cushion farthest from him and sat with her legs crossed. “Childish men. I would not even consider calling them men.” She scoffed. “Every chance they get they would be up a bird’s skirt.”

“Well, I would never take advantage of a woman.” He smiled softly at her, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his blazer as she became more comfortable and uncurled from pulling into herself.

He told his story to her about how he came from a pure-blood family in Leicester, England and went to a magical school named Hogwarts in Scotland. She asked him what he was doing in Newcastle Emlyn Wales and he told her he was exploring.

“...anything to get away from my parents' pressure on finding a kind woman.” He chuckled softly. “It seems to be this big thing in pureblood families.”

“What happens if you do not comply with the one they choose?” Hope asked.

“You get disowned.”

***

Six months in of them dating, she had asked him to pinch her one night. He chuckled and complied. Afterwards asking her why. She pulled him in for a kiss and whispered; ‘I need to make sure this is still real.’ He smiled and entwined their hands together as they walked around the pond another time. From then on he had always made sure she knew this was real by holding her hand, hugging her, kissing her, making her smile. He loved her smile and making her laugh. He had never had that with a woman coming from the life he had previously lived. Now all he wanted was to live in her world.

Three years later she found herself in Hogsmeade trying different things, learning about a whole other world she could only imagine in her dreams. She had never been this happy in her life. Lyall had told her that once she shared all her favourite shops and foods with him, he wanted to do the same. This man was unbelievable to her. Hope still couldn’t believe they had met that fateful night. He listened, he acknowledged her interests and even tried to learn more about them; he was funny, kind, sweet, and caring. He protected her, loved and cherished her, and after the fifth year she knew there was no turning back.

Lyall had proposed to her and they got married a year later. He ignored his family’s outlash and ran away with her to Newport, Wales where they bought a small home with three bedrooms. After two years of being married, she found out the most exciting news. Lyall came home that day from work at the Ministry and she leapt into his arms. He dropped his case to the ground, catching her and wrapping his arms around her.

“What’s got you all happy?” He chuckled, kissing her neck as he held her around her waist.

She giggled. “We are going to have a baby.”

He looked at her with surprise. “Really?” He asked, slightly nervous but mostly happy. Then the fear kicked in.

“Yeah.” She slid her legs down his, standing on her toes to place a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong, Lyall?” She caressed his thick, chestnut coloured, wavy curls.

“Nothing, I’m happy.” He picked her up and spun her around, kissing her again with a chuckle at her worried expression. “Honest! It is just a slight shock is all, as for everyone.”

“Well, I guess I am just happier as I haven’t really had a proper family.” She pat his shoulder. "You would tell me if we were in danger, right? There is nothing you are hiding from me?"

Lyall squeezed her into a soft hug. “Hey, darling. I’m thrilled, I just struggle with my emotions sometimes. You will make a wonderful mother, and we will have the family you always dreamed of.” He kissed her softly again. “Now, let me make that recipe you love so much, will that cheer you up?”

She smiled, kissing his cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

He dipped her, kissing her deeply. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Nine months later she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. She held the fragile bundle in her arms, looking up at Lyall with tears in her eyes. “He’s so beautiful.”

“Welcome to the world, Remus.” Lyall smiled as Hope placed their baby in his arms. “I love you so much, no matter what.”

Hope smiled up at her boys. She would never leave her baby, show him the world is dark and dangerous, or make him feel unloved. He would get everything she never had. She would make sure his life was happy, bright, and loving.

However… that didn’t last long.

[sincerelybluevase]

Careful, Madam Chapter Three

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Mrs Danvers helped me out of the tub and began to towel me dry. “Your husband,” she said as she rubbed the towel between my toes, “shall go down to the wreck and see if he can be of assistance. I must make myself useful, too.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “But why?”

She looked up at me. “Because Mr de Winter might bring the crew here. They’ll need to be fed. Perhaps they need to sleep here, too. Some might require medical assistance. There’s no saying with a wreck.”

“Oh.”

That strange, tender woman I had made love to had retreated once more, and now she was brusque, business-like, efficient. The woman dressed in silk stockings and scarlet slips I might have asked about her scars; the Manderley housekeeper I could not.

She misconstrued my unease, for she straightened, rested her palm against my cheek, and said, “You needn’t worry, Madam. It won’t touch you, I promise. I’ll give orders for the library to be readied for you. Unless you wish to sleep a little?”

I shook my head. “No. The library will do. Thank you, Mrs Danvers.”

“Shall you be able to dress yourself, Madam? Only I must see to the servants.”

I mustn’t show her I was hurt. I turned my face away from her and nursed that throbbing spot of nausea inside of me so I need not feel the disappointment, the yearning, the desire. “Of course. I won’t keep you.”

She went with silent step, already lost to me. Or so I thought; on the threshold she turned and rushed back to me. She did not falter, did not doubt, but clasped my face between her lean hands and kissed me. “Fear not,” she whispered, and I did not know what she wished me not to fear, and I did not care.

When she was gone I dressed myself and brushed my wet hair. Mrs Danvers had whisked away my dirty clothes. Would she, I wondered, mend that tear in the heel of my stocking for me?

Frith was in the hall downstairs. “Good morning, Madam,” he said. Did he think it unrespectable of me to walk around with wet hair? I realised that I did not mind if he did.

“Did you hear the rockets?” I asked.

“Indeed, Madam. Robert and I were just talking about it, wondering where exactly she has run aground. The fog does strange things to sound.”

“Yes. Yes it does, Frith.”

“A good thing we had none of that last night, or we shouldn’t have been able to see the fireworks. A good thing, too, that she did not run ashore then, or we should never have heard her call of distress.”

“Mr de Winter…?”

“Has gone to see if he can be of help, Madam.”

I was so tired I saw black spots dancing in front of my vision. I put a hand out to steady myself. Frith took hold of my elbow. “Steady, Madam. Are you not well?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed.

He guided me to a chair. I sank down heavily and sat with my head lowered until the clusters of darkness faded. I half expected Frith to bring me smelling salts, but he did no such thing, simply standing at my side, ready to run to my every command.

“I’m better now,” I said after a while.

“It’s the excitement,” he said.

“It’s the heat, this beastly heat. Why won’t it rain?”

“Shall I get you a glass of brandy, Madam?”

I shook my head. “No. No, Frith, I’m quite all right now.” I pushed a wet lock of hair behind my ear. “I shall be in the library. Please tell Mr de Winter to come find me there once he’s home.”

He nodded. “Madam.”

The library was cool, pleasantly so. I sat down on the sofa, feeling tired and drawn. The fancy dress ball seemed to have taken place a long time ago, but not even a full day had passed. I still had to apologise to Maxim. Strange; it was no longer such a pressing need. Perhaps I was simply too tired to think.

Despite everything, I must’ve slept then. When I woke, the mist had gone. The sky was bruised, still that filthy yellow colour that heralded a storm. The library had grown hot. I opened the windows, put my hands on the sill and leaned out. The air was oppressive, thick. There could be no tea on the lawn that afternoon, no raspberries and cream under the chestnut. I smelled the cloying scent of roses mixed with the bitter salt of the sea, strong enough to make my stomach spasm. My senses had heightened at Manderley; before, I had not such an acute sense of smell, nor such a sensitivity to scent. When I withdrew from the window, my palms left damp prints on the sill.

I thought to ring for tea, but then the door opened and Maxim came in.

His mouth was drawn, his face haggard. His skin had taken on a strange greyish hue I had only ever seen in the very sick or dying. We locked eyes. For a moment we simply stood and stared, taking the other in. Then he rubbed his face in that unselfconscious way that men have, roughly and all knuckle. The spell broken, I found I could move.

“Maxim,” I said.

“It’s over,” he said.

“What’s over, darling? How grey and tired you look. Come, you must sit.” I went to him and touched his arm, but he would not be guided. He went to the open window instead, picking up the ashtray on his way, and lit a cigarette. He smoked it quickly, eagerly, and with it some colour came back into his face so that it was no longer a waxen mask. I went to stand with him, unsure of whether to touch him, whether my affection would be welcome.

“You must forgive me,” I said.

“Forgive you?” he asked, staring at the cigarette held between his beautiful fingers. “What must I forgive you for?”

“My choice of dress. I swear I didn’t know Rebecca wore the same thing last year. If I had, I’d never have chosen it. It was a mix-up, a rotten, damnable mix-up.”

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. “I was very angry with you, wasn’t I?”

“Dreadfully so.”

He smiled. “Funny. It’s not important anymore.”

I didn’t know what to do with him. He seemed a stranger to me. “Maxim, darling, what has happened? Why are you acting like this, so strange, so funny? Was it terrible, the wreck? Is that it? Please, you must talk to me.”

“They found Rebecca’s boat,” he said. “The ship from Hamburg came too close to the shore and hit it full on. It’s wrecked, the ship is, though none of the crew were harmed. They couldn’t have known, of course; she was underwater.”

A twisting deep inside of me. “But how? I thought she was lost at sea, not near the shore.”

“Yes. That’s what everyone thought, that Rebecca took the boat out sailing in a storm and perished. Only now they’ve found her boat, and worse, they’ve found a body, and now all shall come in the open.”

Despite the heat, my hand and feet were numb and cold. “A body? I don’t understand. She went sailing with another? Oh, Maxim, how dreadful, how…”

He opened his mouth and began to laugh. It was a horrible sound, all rough and hollow. It petered out into a hoarse chuckle, only to start up again, louder and more forceful than before. On and on it went. I thought I should go mad, listening to that deranged laughter.

“Maxim, don’t,” I begged, and tried to put my hands over his mouth. “Darling, please don’t laugh, you shouldn’t laugh…”

He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands away. He looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot, the irises rimmed with white, like those of a wild animal. I thought of him then as he had been on that mountaintop in Monte Carlo, when I had thought him to be not quite sane and had feared he might push me over the precipice. He looked like that now, even more so.

“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

“You don’t understand, now do you? Of course you don’t. You live in your own little head, and no one is allowed in there, not even me, your own husband. Rebecca’s boat was not lost at sea, and she wasn’t sailing with another. I killed her. I killed Rebecca.”

And he told me.

He told me how their marriage had been a farce from the start, how she had made a deal with him to bring Manderley to glory if allowed her freedom, how her infidelities had tormented him. He told me how he had gone to the boathouse that night to scare her and her lover with the gun, and how he had found her alone. With his deep, calm voice he told me how she had confessed her pregnancy, and how he had shot her and then disposed of her.

I listened, feeling more numb all the while. It was as if I was dreaming. Soon, I’d wake up, and none of this madness would’ve happened. These things didn’t happen to me. You read about them in newspapers sometimes, but they never happened to one personally, not even to people one knew.

“But now it is all over,” Maxim went on, “They’ve found her, and they’ll know. She’s only bones, but there are things there to identify her, her rings… If only I had never identified that poor, unnamed woman as my wife…”

“It was a mistake,” I said automatically. “You must say it was a mistake. Corpses that have been in the water for so long, they’re unrecognisable, aren’t they? And you were mad with grief.”

He frowned, and then he laughed again. “Mad with grief? Did you think I loved her? I’ve never cared for her. I hated her. She was a vicious little bitch. She wasn’t even normal, rutting with men and women alike. But you, my little love, my darling…”

If he ever finds out about Mrs Danvers and me, I thought, and it was a clear thought, thin and swift, he’ll break my neck.

He began to kiss me, hungry little kisses, nipping at my lips. I stood like a dummy in his arms. I felt his mouth on mine, his breath, his arms tight around my body like winding sheets, yet the sensations were curiously dulled.

He’s doing it to someone else, I thought. Then, I wished he was doing it to someone else.

He noticed my stiffness and thrust me away from him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s too late,” he said, “I’ve left it too late. You don’t care for me now.” He began to pace, muttering under his breath.

“Maxim,” I whispered.

He looked at me, and now he truly was a stranger. My feelings returned, the strongest of them fear. “Why did you not tell me sooner?” I whispered.

“Do you think it’s an easy thing to admit, that my wife slept around like a cheap slut? Do you not understand how ashamed I was, and still am?”

I forced myself to go to him. I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” I kissed him with a dry mouth, wishing that I felt nothing. He tasted of smoke, of hunger. He put his arms around me and fell to kissing me again. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing and grasping, all done roughly.

“God,” he moaned, “how I want you. I must have you, my girl.” He moved me to the windowsill.

“Maxim, no!” I gasped. “Not here, the servants…”

“Servants be damned!” he growled. “I must have you, I simply must.”

I felt so weak I could hardly stand. I stumbled, leaned heavily against him, my wet fingers clutching at his shirt. Those dark spots were back. I trembled. I could hardly keep my head up, it was so heavy. “I’m not well. Please, I’m not well,” I said, and started to cry.

He clasped my face with both hands and made me look at him. What he read in my face must have convinced him, for he helped me to the sofa. I curled up, feeling faint and weak and sick. I couldn’t stop shaking.

“This must have come as a shock to you. I understand,” he said. He rang for a servant, then poured himself a drink. He came to sit with me, the sofa dimpling under his weight. His hand was hot as he stroked my face. Not even a day ago I would have welcomed this sudden sign of intimacy, this little bit of affection, but I was not the girl of yesterday anymore. I was so much older now I might as well have lived another ten years. His hot, demanding hand revolted me now, yet I had to convince him somehow that this sudden illness was not his doing, or else he might suspect, he might know how I feared him.

“I’ve been feeling poorly for weeks now,” I murmured. “I just feel so nauseous all the time, and I can’t eat…” My teeth were chattering. I pressed my hand against my jaw to make them stop.

His hand stopped petting me. “Nauseous? For weeks?”

I nodded; I couldn’t speak.

The door opened with a soft snick. I could not see who it was, and I did not care; as long as there was someone with us, he would not harm me.

“Ah, there you are,” Maxim said. “Mrs de Winter is feeling unwell. Help her to her room, will you? She must rest. I’ll call the doctor.”

“Sir.”

Gooseflesh erupted over my body. It was Mrs Danvers.

“I’m not that ill,” I whispered.

He leaned over me, kissed me with his wet mouth tasting of drink. “I don’t think you are, my little darling. Far from it.” His face, so gaunt and hollow and cruel half an hour before, had come alive now. It seemed to burn with a desperate, triumphant happiness that I didn’t understand.

“What are you talking about?”

He rocked in his heels, rubbed his mouth again in that harsh way peculiar to men. “What an innocent you are.” He looked over his shoulder. “Bring her to her room. Take care she doesn’t stumble on the stairs; we must be very careful with her, now. Women in her condition are fragile.”

Mrs Danvers felt my forehead with her cool, sweet hand. “Can you stand?”

I nodded; I could not look at her. She might read the truth of Maxim’s crimes in my eyes, and then we would both be lost.

She helped me up, an arm around my waist. My head felt heavy again, as if it was a flower and my neck a ravaged stalk. The blood returned to my head. I felt it thump, heard the stutter of my heart. I clutched at her hand; like mine, it was cold.

Up the stairs we went, slowly, carefully. I sensed a humming energy to Mrs Danvers, a desire for movement, for speech, that she smothered down. She must’ve heard about Rebecca’s boat, I thought, panic and pity mingling.

How could I tell her what I knew?

How couldn’t I?

Once in my room, she helped me sit down on the edge of the bed, undid my shoes for me. How many people, I wondered, had seen the top of her head? I touched it now, her thick hair wound up and tucked away, held into place with pins.

“You mustn’t make a fuss over me. I’m truly not ill. What happened this morning was a moment of passing weakness. I don’t know why Maxim insists on a doctor seeing me. There’s no need.”

She took my hand and rubbed it against her cheek. “Oh, Madam,” she said, moving her face against my fingers, my knuckles and palm, cat-like. “Oh, Madam.”

When she looked up at me, her face was soft with emotion, her eyes liquid with it.

“What?” I asked, “What is it?”

“Madam, I think you might be with child.”

It began to rain.

[camillemontespan]

a kingdom divided [part seventeen: devil on your shoulder]

Part Sixteen if you want to catch up!

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @sirbeepsalot @drakesensworld @ifyouseekheart @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @dcbbw @carabeth @be-still-my-aching-heart @notoriouscs @thecordoniandiaries

**************************************************************************************

‘I hope Liam knows you’re dying for him. I know he won’t care.'

Kiara's words echoed in Olivia's mind. She could feel Kiara's fingers closing around her throat, intent to bring death. Her eyes were wild and huge.

‘I hope Liam knows you’re dying for him. I know he won’t care.'

Olivia felt a surge of anger in her heart. Kiara knew nothing. Olivia was not going to die with that being the last thing she ever heard in this world, especially from someone as weak as Kiara.

'Let her go!' Leo shouted, getting closer. Olivia's anger only intensified - no man was capable of helping a Nevrakis out of something like this. Nevrakis women could defend themselves.

In a flash, Olivia pulled her dagger from its holster and drove it forward.

Kiara gasped harshly.

Her fingers around Olivia's neck loosened and she dropped her own dagger which she had tucked against her palm. Kiara looked down at her stomach, where redness was beginning to bloom.

'I think I'm going to be sick..' Kiara murmured, wobbling. Olivia breathed heavily, staring at Kiara, trying to shake off the shock that she had just hurt the other girl. This was no time to get emotional. 'Tell me. Who is poisoning court?'

Kiara's eyes were full of pain. 'I can't say..'

'Yes you fucking can. Tell me or this dagger is going through your throat.'

Kiara staggered, grabbing hold of Olivia's arm. ' Le Club Citoyen Secret has many members,' she whispered, struggling to form the words. 'You won't find them all.'

'Give me a name of one member. Or if you can't do that just give me something, anything,' Olivia ground out, clenching her fists. Kiara stared at her then whispered.

'Secret tunnels.'

Suddenly, Kiara fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. Olivia watched as she keeled over into a heap.

Olivia would normally have spat on the body. But this wasn't just any body. This was Kiara.

'Olivia!'

Leo had reached her. The gardens were huge and he looked exhausted from the effort of sprinting. He stared down at Kiara. 'Oh god. Is she dead?'

Olivia nodded silently. Her anger had evaporated and all that remained was a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt sick and scared. What she would call a weak emotion was now running wild in her system. She was terrified. 'What have I done?' she choked.

Leo pulled her into him and his eyes bore into hers. 'You defended yourself. That's all.'

'I murdered her..'

'She was trying to murder you, Liv. I saw her advancing on you with her dagger, she was out for blood.'

Olivia's body came out in a cold sweat. 'I.. I don't know what to do,' she whispered. She was so quiet that Leo had to lean in to hear her. 'I just felt so much anger.' Her ice blue eyes were darting around, her hands were trembling. She looked so vulnerable.

'We'll figure this out,' Leo told her fiercely. Olivia stared at him. 'We?'

'Yes. You and me. I'm here for you Liv. I'm in your corner.'

For once, Olivia didn't protest. 'What should we do now? If Liam finds out.. Oh god, he's going to be furious.'

'We'll deal with him later. Right now, we have to get away from the garden. We'll go round to the front and act like we have been at the front courtyard, okay?'

Olivia stared at him. 'So we just leave her here?!'

Leo sighed. 'Do you want to parade Kiara around the ballroom and have everyone accuse you of murder?' he asked sarcastically. 'Or would you rather leave her here for someone to find and given how courtiers are dropping like flies, the poor person will just assume this is yet another rebel act. Which do you think would be better? '

Olivia reddened. She wasn't used to having someone correct her and tell her what to do. She kind of liked it.

Leo sensed her decision and led her away from Kiara's body. Olivia forced herself not to look back.

The two of them reached the front courtyard and casually walked up the steps to the front door. 'Be normal,' Leo whispered. Olivia nodded and threw back her shoulders to adopt her usual posture.

'Champagne?' Leo asked in his usual easygoing manner. Olivia rolled her eyes but followed him back to the ballroom. She needed alcohol and lots of it. Leo ordered a bottle from the bar. Clearly, he was thinking the same thing.

                           ******************************************************

Hana pried Nevilles hands away from her lower back and placed them back on the center of her spine. He was getting too close for comfort. 'So Hana, tell me. How is life treating you?'

'Not very well,' she said. 'I'm just so worried about everything going on at court. I feel so awful for Penelope..'

'Hmm yes, she was innocent. Poor girl,' Neville replied. He twirled Hana around. 'At least we are safe,' he continued. 'Well, myself at least.. Maybe not you since you are close with the King and he is not very popular at the moment..'

Hana tensed. 'Do you agree with the ones who dislike him?'

'Meh. I see why they're angry. They want their efforts at court to be rewarded. They don't want commoners to be promoted, like that Walker runt and his commoner wife -'

'They are the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria,' Hana suddenly spat. 'You will respect them.'

Neville chuckled. 'Wow. I do like it when you're fiery..' His hands reached down her back again towards her ass. Hana pulled away. She saw Maxwell, standing nearby, staring at Neville with a look of fury etched on his face.

'Please Neville. Play nice,' Hana said, trying to calm down. She couldn't blow her cover now. She needed information.

'As I was saying,' Neville began again, 'I see why they're angry. But I don't understand why the servants are getting involved -' He stopped, his face turning pale.

'Servants?' Hana asked, pretending she didn't know. 'Why would the servants be involved?'

'Oh, um.. Uhh..'

'Neville..' she interrupted, her voice cold.

He sighed and lead her to a corner of the room. He leaned close to whisper in her ear. 'I've heard there's a secret club of nobles and commoners. They want the monarchy dead. They will stop at nothing and they are poisoning all of the King's allies. Hana.. I am only telling you this because you are close to the King and I quite admire you. This is a secret.'

'Where have you heard this?' she asked.

'Because I have been.. opinionated about the King and his decisions, many nobles feel I would agree with them so they talk openly. I listen, if only to find out what drinks to avoid at parties in case I drink a poisoned one.'

'How many nobles talk about poisoning the King? And why are they part of a poison plot? Why not just go to the King and vent their frustration?'

'More than half the court,' he answered bluntly. Hana stepped back, shocked. 'And as for why? They're inspired by your commoner friends colourful French background. Madame de Montespan, have you heard of her?'

Hana nodded.

'They've tried to vent to the King but he hasn't done anything. They are tired of it.'

'Would you want to be part of the club?' Hana dared to ask.

Neville stared at her. 'Do you really think I'm that horrific a person? No. Yes I think he is weak, but he doesn't deserve to be the victim of this plot. I may be opinionated and arrogant, but I'm not a killer.'

'What else have you heard?'

He groaned. 'Well.. They have meetings.'

Hana's heart leapt. 'Meetings? Where?'

'There's a room in the secret tunnels underground. They go there.'

Hana nodded, processing his words. She then spoke. 'Thank you Neville.'

'For what?'

'For being honest.'

'Heh, just keeping an eye out for a fellow noble.'

Hana nodded and moved to leave him. He grabbed her arm. 'Don't tell anyone what I've just told you.'

                               ****************************************************

Olivia had been waiting to hear a scream. Her eyes had been fixed on the French doors out to the gardens.

'Liv.'

Leo clicked his fingers in front of her eyes. Olivia blinked. 'Sorry. Um.. What were you saying?'

Leo sighed. 'Do you want to get out of here?'

'Where would we go?'

'Back to the palace. No funny business I promise. I just don't think you're coping here.'

He did look concerned. His green eyes were looking into hers. Olivia groaned. 'You're right. Let's go.'

She picked up their bottle of champagne and Leo followed. He found their coats in the cloakroom and signalled for Olivia's driver. 'To the palace please,' he instructed.

Olivia took a deep gulp of champagne from the bottle. She passed it to Leo.

In the back of the car, they were sat together closely. Olivia could smell Leo's scent. He had that deep masculine smell. She saw that his fists were clenched.

'Are you okay?' she asked.

Leo looked at her. Perhaps it was because of the darkness so he couldn't see her properly, but in that moment of silence and dark space, he answered honestly. 'I'm glad you're still alive.'

Olivia looked out of the window. 'Me too.'

Leo sighed and turned away to watch the car passing the harbour. He jumped when Olivia spoke. 'Thank you for coming after me. I mean, I could have handled it myself... but thank you all the same.'

Leo chuckled. He drew in a breath when she leaned her head against his shoulder. They stayed like that in silence for the rest of the drive.

                            **************************************************

Drake could taste Camille's watermelon lip balm. His hands tangled in her hair as she straddled him. 'God, Camille, you feel incredible,' he murmured against her mouth. Camille nipped at his ear with her teeth and circled her hips, enjoying the feel of him inside her.

They had gone down to the lake to watch the sunset. The Texas air was warm and the lake was still. Camille had snuggled up into Drake, wearing a loose black sweater and denim shorts. She looked a million miles away from her Duchess persona and the thought that she was just Camille again made Drake want her instantly. He had initiated it, kissing her neck as the sun turned the sky from blue to orange. The sunset made Camille's skin glow and she looked so beautiful in that light.

Now, she was riding him slowly, deliberately. Drake moved his hand down her bump towards her clit, gently finding it. He circled his fingers against her as he bucked his hips and Camille let out a throaty groan as she concentrated on everything he was doing to her.

She was naked against the setting sun. The glow around her body was phenomenal, making her look ethereal and Drake's eyes roamed her body, from her breasts to her slender waist to her baby bump, which was growing by the day. It was so prominent now. It was still a neat little bump but it was obvious now that she was having a baby. His baby.

Her dark hair was tousled around her shoulders. 'Tell me what you're thinking,' she said, smiling.  Drake ran his hands up her waist. 'I'm thinking about you.'

Camille leaned down to kiss him. 'Correct answer.'

Afterwards, they lay curled up beside each other, twisted up in their blankets. The sky had turned violet. The twilight hour.

‘What do you want to do tomorrow?’ Drake asked. Camille shrugged. ‘I don’t know.. since we left Valtoria, we have no Duke and Duchess duties. Bertrand is going to visit the manor once a week just to check in, see how are things are so really, we have nothing to worry about. So I’m honestly not sure, we’ve not had a free day in months!’ Drake ran his finger along her shoulder. ‘How about tomorrow morning, I make us breakfast in bed? We could take the boat out after?’ Camille beamed. ‘That sounds perfect.’

*******************************************************************************************

Olivia wandered along the corridor with Leo next to her. She reached her bedroom door and placed her hand on the door handle. She turned to look at Leo.

‘Don’t worry about anything,’ he said. ‘Just get a good nights sleep.’ Olivia smiled weakly. ‘I don’t think I will.’ ‘Just try.’ She stepped forward and looked up into his green eyes. ‘Can you sleep with me?’ Leo blinked. ‘What?’ She sighed. ‘I don’t mean sex. I mean... actually sleep with me. I know I’m Olivia Nevrakis but I don’t really want to be alone right now.’

Leo’s eyes locked with hers. ‘I get it.’ Olivia opened her door and Leo silently followed her in. He looked around her room. It was painted red, her favourite colour, with a four poster bed covered with gold silk cushions and a Chinese screen was in the corner with a claw foot bath standing behind it. It was very opulent, very glamorous and very Olivia.  Leo felt it was a big deal being allowed into her domain. He had the feeling not many were given the privilege. 

He took off his suit jacket and hung it up. Olivia faced him. ‘Can you help me unzip my dress?’ He nodded, beckoning her over and she turned around so he could see her back. He gently unzipped the dress, his eyes exploring each part of her back as her skin became more exposed. He resisted the urge to touch her. She wouldn’t like that and he didn’t want to show his cards. Not yet. 

The purple dress pooled down onto the floor around her feet. She turned to him. She was wearing a purple lace bralette and thong. She unclipped her hair and it fell in red waves down her back. She looked like a mermaid emerging from the purple deep. 

They stared at each other in a charged silence. 

‘I just want to sleep,’ Olivia told him.

‘I believe you,’ Leo answered.

She went over to the bed and got under the covers. Leo unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. Olivia watched him, just as he had watched her.

Leo got under the covers with her. ‘So Nevrakis,’ he said. ‘What’s your bedtime habits then? Read a book? Cuddle a teddy bear?’ Olivia turned to face him. ‘I read.’ ‘Oh. What books?’ ‘Historical fiction.’ He stared at her. ‘You read historical fiction?’ ‘Yes. Is that so hard to believe?’ ‘Kind of. I thought it would be books about war or fighting techniques.’ ‘That’s my day time reading,’ she answered dryly.

Leo laughed and Olivia, surprisingly, smiled at him. She caught herself and fixed her mouth back into a hard line. ‘You smiled at me,’ Leo said.  ‘No, I didn’t.’ ‘You did. Don’t deny it, Liv. You smiled.’ She swatted him away. Her touch burned against his skin. 

Olivia rolled over and closed her eyes. A minute later, Leo sighed and rolled over, slinging his arm around her. They moved and found that they were both spooning. 

Olivia expected to feel her skin crawl as it usually did when someone got too close for comfort. But she didn’t feel that. Instead, she felt.. safe. Ugh. She felt so tragic.  ‘Fuck..’ she whispered to herself.  Leo sniggered. ‘You’re thinking about how nice this is, aren’t you? And you hate yourself for it.’ Olivia didn’t bother lying. ‘How did you guess?’

Leo pulled her in closer. ‘This doesn’t have to mean anything,’ he whispered. ‘It’s just me. You wanted company, you got it. I’m not going to try anything. I’m your friend right now.’ ‘What are you usually?’ ‘Hmm.. the devil on your shoulder?’ Olivia smirked. ‘Sounds about right.’

They fell asleep soon after, all thoughts about the evening gone. 

*******************************************************************************************

There was a scream.

Liam’s conversation with Emmeline was interrupted. The guests in the ballroom all turned to see a woman running in from the gardens.  ‘Kiara!’ she screamed.  Liam rushed forward to take the woman. ‘What’s wrong? What’s happened?!’ The woman, Christina, shook. ‘In the gardens.. around the side..’

Liam and a few of the courtiers raced outside. Hana, Maxwell and Bertrand followed, Hana clutching onto Maxwell’s hand. 

They all stopped short when they rounded the side of the manor and found Kiara’s body. The girl lay on her back, her eyes open and glassy. Liam let out a strangled cry.

He got down on his knees and propped Kiara up against him. Tears ran down his face. Another person dead in my court. 

Liam’s eyes studied her, trying to work out how long she had been dead, how it had happened. It was when his eyes settled on the dagger protruding out of her stomach that his heart dropped. 

He recognised the dagger. It had a red ruby handle. Only one person he knew had that dagger. Olivia. 

[sozotohakai]

15 QUESTIONS, 15 MUTUALS

Tagged by @moon--wake​ (thank you!)

⭑ are you named after anyone ?  

Technically yes, my mom was raised Christian though she grew apart from the religion itself (but not from her belief in God and angels), and when she learned she was getting a daughter (which she had desired but until me didn’t get), she named be Christelle, to be written like this (rather than Kristel for example), and it can be read as Christ+elle (elle being french she). This works perfectly for me too as it shortens to Chris, which is a more gender neutral name, which is rather fun considering mom wouldn’t have known back then I would realize I’m non binary.

Fun fact: my middle name is the same name from an aunt if I recall correctly, one of the few people from my father’s side of the family that mom did like.

⭑ when was the last time you cried ?  

This weekend, there was Doctor Who on TV and there was the episode with Doctor Donna so if you know it you know it’s the ending that made me cry. It didn’t help my mind start going “Yooo super angst Wangxian” and I yelled NOPE. Long story short: the episode deals with how the only way to save someone is to erase all memories of the time spend together (including meeting) and how they can’t come into contact with anything that could lowkey remind of said times. Now I’m not okay thinking of how the theme of having forgotten is heavy in DGM ouch.

⭑ do you have kids ?  

Nope, unless you count characters I created we always joke that with mom, they’re her grandchildren.

⭑ do you use sarcasm a lot ?  

Depends, it can come out of me at random times, its more likely to happen if I’m playing; or if I’m lacking sleep.

⭑ what’s the first thing you notice about people ?  

That is a good question...   It can vary? But mostly I feel like I take right away into the overall appearance, like... either to recognize them, or store them in my mind so I can hope to recognize them later. I don’t really (or not often) stop at a detail, it’s just, get a reading of the general appearance of someone. After that I pay attention to expressions and how they speak (which is funny to say since I have trouble with eye contact half the time).

⭑ what’s your eye color ?  

Brown

⭑ scary movie or happy ending ?

Happy ending, though tbh, I do kind of love scary movie, it’s just that I have troubles actually watching.

⭑ any special talents ?

Uuuuu, I guess, I’ve been told I’m good at emotional empathy? I’ve been able to know when someone felt low just by how they would write. That’s, I believe, the main reason I find my way with words (when I have time to think) because it’s heavily based on my empathy mixed with experience. Like, I feel so much what someone else is feeling, and that’s why I can come with up with words for them and their situation.

⭑ where were you born ?  

France

⭑ what are your hobbies ?  

Writing, reading, playing games, listening to music, watching videos (Markiplier, React, MMD&Vocaloid stuff, AMV&Anime mix videos, sometimes bloopers and funny stuff).

⭑ do you have any pets ?

I don’t, but my brother and his dad have a cat so he’s like my pet. His name is Grisou (gris = grey so it’s totally a cute naming of his fur colour), he’s playful and seems to view any approach as a signal to play (aka paw at you and try to nip), though he’ll get cuddly at times from what I heard. For my part, we’ve got this ritual that I’ll slowly approach my fingers so he sniffs them (unless I see him about to paw/bite so I dont even try), he lets me pet his head a tiny bit, and then I leave him alone. So he doesn’t try to paw or claw or nip at me because he knows I’ve learned to tell if he’s okay with an approach and when I should stop.

(Fun fact: one time he kind of accidentally hurt my leg, despite my pants he dug fangs and claws too deep and I ended up with a few cuts that bled, I was a bit scared that day and for the next few times I saw him, then I kind of hesitantly start to approach him again, and I think he picked up on it and that’s why he’s a bit more patient with me? I’m the only person he doesn’t straight up claw or paw or nip at, and the few times he does, it’s slow, and/or light).

⭑ what tattoos / piercings / body mods do you have ?  

None, sometimes I get the thought of having tattoos, but I’m not sure I’ll ever follow through. But probably if I did, I would got with a small tattoo first just to like, see? I once thought about wolf tattoo, but tbh if I get a tattoo one day, it’ll be a dragon. Oh gosh yeah, a small tattoo of an eastern dragon circling my wrist or maybe higher like close to elbow level, maybe on both side. And after that if I’d have the courage, a western dragon in the back (with feathers wing, I love my dragons with feather wings).

⭑ how tall are you ?  

5 ‘7~ I don’t think I’m that tall, but I’m amused because it seems like I’m taller than most of my friends. My brother is even taller than me, he’s 6′/6′1. Or because I’m squinting at the conversion, I’m ~172 cm (and he’s ~185 cm).

⭑ dream job ?

What I’m doing right now, which is work as an independant/freelance writer. Lemme be shameless for a tiny bit and link to my site too, since. Kind of fit with the question.

What’s funny is that, as a child, when it first start to float around, what will you be later, I loved dinosaurs so I thought, I’ll become a paleontologist. I stayed on this path until college, I could feel in me something off, there was nothing else that I could see myself do, so I stick to it, but in college I truly felt how much I just didn’t see myself become a scientist. And it’s totally all thanks to mom and my bro that I realized, hey, writer can be a job too. Then came the hilarious realization that I’ve always been writing or reading, mostly in/for school, but at the end of middle school I discovered fanfics and I never stopped writing&reading those since then (and later rping was added).

⭑ favorite subject at school?  

I’ve always enjoyed literature (no surprise here) though to be precise, here in France the subject is called “Français” and is a mix of learning grammar&spelling&punctuation, then all kind of things like analyzing books and poems. It was, in fact, a bit rarer to actually write a story ourself, as it was more about learning the french language and what is expressed in books. But in elementary school I did have a teacher that gave us a homework that was literally just “write a story” and I got an almost perfect mark (in my teacher word: the only reason you didnt was for the grammar&etc mistakes”). While in my mom words, years later, “that was the moment I knew you would become a writer”.

I also adored learning English, I think I do love learning languages in general, but the other languages I tried to learn (Latin for one year, Spanish), the teachers were... not helping. The Latin one was, bless her, good but boring (my mom literally almost fell asleep in a teacher-student meeting, face to face); and my first spanish one had no authority and we barely learned anything, so the next one had to try catching up, but it left me (and those who had come from the same class) with very shaky basics and next to no motivation except just have marks above or equal to average. Compared to those, English was made fun to learn, and then it also got associated with my mind with tons of things (fics, subbed animes, being able to talk with friends).

Tagging: @ask-cross-marian @avellaturortem @shensheng-aoman @xueyaang @crowleiii @illusiive @manadcampbellrpblog @crystallizecrimsonbutterfly if you want to!

[animationnut]

Uncle Trap: Chapter 1

Summary: Parent Trap AU. Huey, Dewey and Louie were raised separately, believing that they were only children for twelve years. When fate reunites them at a camp, they realize that they are triplets and that they know very little about their family history. Determined to reunite Donald, Scrooge and Gladstone and make their family whole again, as well as find out what happened to their mother, the triplets decide to switch places. Chapter Rating: K+ Note: Featuring me attempting a Scottish accent.

Inspired by @adamarinayu Family Trap AU, which I highly suggest you check out.

                                                     Chapter List

Louie moodily poked at his stack of chocolate chip pancakes doused with syrup. He watched the prongs pierce the soft fluffy exterior. The motion quickly turned more aggressive when Gladstone took a seat beside him, plucking the cherry from the top of his pancake stack and popping it into his mouth.

As it was impossible to miss the way Louie’s face tightened with anger, Gladstone shook his head. “You can’t stay silent forever, Green Bean. You do have to say goodbye when you leave.”

“If I don’t, will you still make me go?”

“Yes, but then you’d make me spend two months worrying about you being mad at me.”

“Good.” Hacking off chunks of pancakes, Louie shoved them into his mouth. “It’s the start of what will be an intense guilt-trip.”

“Come on, Lou, it’ll be good for you. Exposure to nature is healthy, right?”

Louie sent him a glare. “If that’s true, how come we’ve never been camping before?”

Gladstone had a sudden flashback of camping under the stars in the Australian wilderness. Stuck in a tent with Donald and Della, laughing and chatting into the early hours, while Scrooge shouted at them from his personal tent to be quiet and go to sleep.

“Uh…I’ve done enough camping for one lifetime,” he replied, keeping his voice light. “Kids love camp.”

“Camp is work,” said Louie bitterly. “Did you read that stupid activity guide?” He jabbed his fork towards the Camp Adventure pamphlet stuck to the industrial steel fridge. “I can’t believe you’re taking my summer away from me!”

“I’m not trying to take anything away from you,” said Gladstone in exasperation. “I think this would be a good experience for you. It’s only for eight weeks and we’ll have a couple days of summer vacation left to do whatever you want.”

“If that’s how you’re going to bribe me, you’re not doing a very good job,” sniffed Louie.

“We’ll spend an entire day at Extreme Water Works. And one at Adventureland.”

As Gladstone normally made every attempt to avoid crowded theme parks and water parks, this was a rare offer, and Louie perked up ever so slightly. “You’ll actually hang out with me? Instead of just watching me do stuff?”

“Of course.” Gladstone reached out to ruffle Louie’s head affectionately. “But I won’t do any rides that mess up my hair.”

“Very funny.” Thinking it over for a minute, Louie finally gave in. “Fine. I’ll do the dumb camp. But just know that I’m fully aware that you’re shipping me off to Oregon because you want a few months to yourself. I expect full pampering and attention when I return.”

“So basically things will be back to normal.”

Giving a cute smile, Louie agreed, “Basically.”

…

Transferring the fried ham with melted cheese from the pan to a white ceramic plate, Huey turned off the stove and plucked the toast from the toaster. He slathered them with butter and set the meat in between the slices before cutting them into neat triangles. He set the lunch down on the small square wooden table and poured a glass of milk to accompany the meal. As a final touch, he tucked an orange and blue pamphlet beneath the plate.

“Please let today be the day,” he begged. “Please let today be the day.”

The ceiling above him creaked, signalling that Donald was finished with his afternoon lighthouse duties and was about to join him for lunch. Huey quickly grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with raisin bran cereal before taking his seat.

“Hey, Uncle Donald!” he greeted.

“Hey, Huey.” Donald leaned over to give Huey’s forehead a quick kiss before settling into his chair. “How was your paper route?”

“Good! Mrs. Jenkins tied up her poodle this morning, so I didn’t have to worry about Curly nipping at my ankles. And I beat my record! I delivered all papers in eighty-two minutes!”

“Did Mr. Harley give you trouble again?” asked Donald as he picked up his sandwich, taking a bite.

“He always does. But even he can’t argue with my meticulous payment sheet.”

For the first time, Donald noticed what Huey was eating for lunch. Brow furrowing, he wondered, “You didn’t make a sandwich for yourself?”

“Nah, I’m not really hungry.” This was the truth, for Huey’s stomach was in anxious knots. If he couldn’t convince his uncle today, there was no hope. The deadline for camp application was in three days. “Is it good?”

“It always is. I don’t know where you learned to cook,” remarked Donald.

“Well, I had to teach myself, or else I wouldn’t have earned my cooking badge!”

“I wish you hadn’t tried starting with flambé,” said Donald dryly, remembering the heart attack he nearly had seeing part of their houseboat erupt into flames.

Huey flushed. “I was overly ambitious. And the firefighters got here fast!”

“A small comfort.” Donald reached for his glass of milk, pausing when a flash of bright colour caught his attention. He glanced down, took in the title of the pamphlet and let out a sigh. “Huey…”

“I know we’ve had this discussion already, but hear me out,” pleaded Huey, clasping his wings together. “Camp Adventure has a partnership program with the Junior Woodchucks. I’ll have the chance to get at least five badges that I wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. I know it’s in Oregon, but it’s like, the safest camp there, and I’ll write every day.”

“You’ve never been away from home, Huey. What if you don’t like it?”

“I’ll be fine! I’ve been on campouts before.”

“Not nearly four thousand kilometers away,” said Donald pointedly.

“Please, Uncle Donald. I promise I’ll be safe and I’ll make wise choices.” Huey stared at him pleadingly. “I know you worry. But I want to experience something different. I want to experience something for myself.”

The last thing Donald wanted was to send Huey to another state, out of his sight and out of his grasp. But he knew this meant a lot to Huey and his nephew never asked for much. For him to continuously pester the subject meant it was important. Donald thought of his own camping days, where Della would always try to convince him to go kayaking and rock climbing despite his reluctance, and a lump grew in his throat.

Huey deserved to have special memories, forged on his own. And though Donald would spend every day of those two months scared, anxious and terrified, he couldn’t deny Huey this.

“Fine,” he said at last.

“You leave me no choice. I’ll have to bring in—wait, what did you say?”

“I said fine. But,” added Donald sternly, “you will write me every day and I’m taking you to Oregon myself.”

“You hate flying,” said Huey in bewilderment.

“Who said anything about flying? We’ll take a road trip.”

“All right!” cheered Huey, rushing forwards and tackling Donald in a hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Donald squeezed him back. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t do anything crazy.”

“I won’t!”

Recalling Huey’s words from earlier, Donald asked suspiciously, “What were you going to say? When you said you’d have to bring in what, exactly?”

“Oh, right!” Turning his head over his shoulder, he called, “Aunt Daisy! It’s all good!”

“Darn, and I was all ready to use my charm,” came a familiar voice from above deck.

A minute later Daisy appeared, a pink jacket shrugged over a purple shirt. Donald set his wings on his hips, eyes narrowing. “Traitor.”

“Aw, come on Donald. Huey really wants to go to Camp Adventure and he was ready to pull all the stops in order to convince you.” Daisy walked over to kiss him on the cheek. “He’ll be fine,” she said softly. “He’s a smart, resourceful kid.”

“I know,” said Donald quietly.

Seeing that the pair were whispering, Huey said accusingly, “Are you talking about me?”

“Just about how much of a brat you are,” returned Donald. “Now get me the phone. I’ve got a few questions for the staff of Camp Adventure.”

Huey quickly scampered off and Daisy leaned against Donald’s side, running a wing down his back. “This will be a summer he won’t forget, Donald.”

…

Swiping the weed whacker along the perimeter of the lawn, Dewey felt jubilation swell within him as the final blades of grass were chopped down, matching the rest of the now-manicured yard. He turned off the machine and cried, “Finished!” He climbed the wooden porch and knocked on the red-painted door. “All done Ms. Quackley!”

The elderly woman surveyed her lawn and smiled. “It looks lovely, Dewey. Thank you.”

She handed Dewey a twenty, which he immediately tucked into his shirt pocket. “You’re welcome! Have a nice day.”

He skipped down the step and hurried over to the sidewalk, where Webby had finished strapping the lawn mower into the wagon attached to their bikes. “Well?” she asked eagerly, turning to regard him. “Do you have enough?”

Dewey took a dramatic pause before saying, “Ah’ve got enough! Ah’m goin’ tae Camp Adventure!”

“Yes!” whooped Webby, tackling him in a hug. “We beat the deadline!”

“Ah could nae have done it without ye,” said Dewey sincerely. “Thanks for helpin’ me earn the money.”

“No problem! I wish I could come with you. Camp sounds like so much fun!”

“But ye always have fun on your summer trainin’ trips with Mrs. Beakley,” pointed out Dewey.

“I know. I just wish we could be together,” said Webby wistfully.

“Eight weeks will be over before ye know it,” assured Dewey. “Ah’ll write ye all the time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Dewey extended his wing and Webby shook it, and they performed their Super-Secret Handshake, complete with spins and jumps. They then finished strapping their equipment to the wagon and mounted their bikes.

A half-hour later they reached McDuck Mansion and the pair locked their bikes in the garage before sprinting into the building. “Uncle Scrooge!” shouted Dewey, sliding down one of the marble corridors, eyes peering into the rooms he passed. “Where are ye?”

“Do nae shout, lad!”

“There!” Webby said, pointing at the end of the hall, towards the main drawing room.

The two kids entered the plush carpeted space, spotting Scrooge drinking tea by the fire. “Ah did it!” exclaimed Dewey, unfurling the twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. “Ah earned enough money tae go tae Camp Adventure! With Webby’s help, of course.”

“Good job, Dewey! Ah knew ye could do it.” Pride on his features, Scrooge extended his wing and Dewey walked into the embrace. “Ye worked very hard these past few weeks. Ah’m proud of ye,” said Scrooge affectionately. He looked up at Webby, who was observing them happily, and motioned for her to come forwards. “And ye too, Webby. Ye are a good friend for helpin’ Dewey.”

“Thanks, Uncle Scrooge!” said Webby cheerfully, joining the hug. “It was fun!”

“Will ye send off my application?” asked Dewey anxiously. “The deadline is almost here.”

“Ah’ll do it right away,” promised Scrooge, ruffing his feathers. “Nao go wash up.”

Dewey and Webby obeyed and the blue-clothed duckling made a path for the washroom deemed his. His grin was permanently etched on his face at the knowledge that Camp Adventure was going to be a reality, made all the sweeter that he worked hard to make it happen.

He was always lonely during the summer when Webby went to her secret all-woman warrior island to train with Mrs. Beakley. He loved his uncle dearly, but he worked often, and as much as Dewey liked to help him, it could get boring.

Maybe this summer he would forge new friendships.

[babyshawwn]

Bad Temper

MASTERLIST

Requested: Jealous Shawn. I exaggerated to write the story.

Word count: 3k. 

“I think this might actually be it!” I said, folding the last box together. I ran my fingers through my unwashed hair while breathing out heavily in exhaustion.  

To be honest, I thought this would never end. No matter where I looked or what door in the house I opened, there had always been more boxes to start on. 

More things for the kitchen, clothes I didn’t know where to put and tons of guitar pecks I highly doubted Shawn needed. 

But at last, after what seemed like an eternity, I had finally unpacked the last one. We were done. 

“What?” Shawn yelled from another room, fumbling around with his precious guitars as always. 

Shawn swayed through the door and into the living room shortly after, curious to what I was saying just a second ago. His smile was wide and his curls falling into his eyes. Standing behind me, he let his chin rest on my shoulder while gently pressing his warm lips against my steamy neck. 

“The last box.” I told him. “We’re officially moved in.”

“Well, that only took around four months.” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull my back further against his broad chest. 

“And whose fault is that?” I fired back jokingly, tilting my head to the side to catch Shawn’s stare. Shawn chewed on his bottom lip as I raised my eyebrow at him. 

Shawn had barely been home since we moved in and I practically had to do most of the unpacking, decorating and furniture assembling all by myself. 

To be fair, Brian had been a great help too. Coming over several times a week to help me get this place looking like somewhat of a home, dropping by with short notice whenever I needed help to hang up a shelf or carry something heavy up the stairs. 

“Hey…” Shawn pouted, his mouth nipping to my neck. “I’ve helped out too.” 

“Laughing over facetime doesn’t count.”

“In my world it does.” He protested, placing a kiss or two on my skin. “I was cheering you on.” 

“You were mocking me!”

“Well, you did have an awfully hard time putting together a freaking table.” He laughed, his lips vibrating against my tender skin. 

“Excuse me.” I began while raising my eyebrow at him. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?” 

I tried to keep a straight face, pretending to be annoyed with him, but as soon as the familiar and rather cheeky smirk spread on Shawn’s lips, I couldn’t hold back the laughter. 

Shawn’s hands slid down to my hips as he turned me to face him. He lowered his eyes to get a proper look at me while his hands caressed my back. 

“You love me.” He smiled, tilting his head to the side while his puppy eyes fell on me. I rolled my eyes at him, giggling slightly at his childish behaviour. 

“Well…”

“You love me.” He pouted once again. “Say it.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked him, raising my eyebrow.

Shawn’s tongue slipped across his pink lips in a rather teasing way while his eyes glued onto mine. He leaned forward to reach my ear while his thumb slid down my neck. 

“Oh, you know what.” He breathed, his lips brushing slightly against my earlobe. 

His hands moved down my body while reaching the curve of my hips and I knew he was going to tickle me if I gave him a chance to. 

“Don’t you dare, Mendes.” I warned him, gabbing for his hands to remove them. Quickly, Shawn intertwined our fingers together, letting his thumb stroke my knuckles. 

“Then say it.” 

“I love you.” I whispered back, giving in to his request quite easily. 

“Good girl.” He laughed, his thumb lifting my chin to expose my lips fully to his. 

Shawn’s loving eyes met mine as he leaned forward to close the gap between our lips. While attaching his lips to mine, my fingers tugged into his messy curls to deepen our kiss. 

It felt strange to me on some level. We lived together now but I rarely got to see him. Shawn’s tour was much longer this time and I only got to see him a few days before he had to leave again. Most of the time, he was gone and I was alone. At times, it felt like I was living with a ghost. 

To be completely honest, I had been spending more time with his friends than him lately. Shawn had asked his boys to help me out with the move and I’d been grateful for that, no doubt. I wasn’t really aware of how much work went into moving and getting properly settle and I definitely didn’t know moving into a house would be such a pain in the ass. Especially not when you’re doing it alone. 

I was lucky to have had Brian around as much as he had been. The other boys went to university rather far away, but Brian had cleared his schedule most times to help out. Driving from store to store with me to pick up the furniture, endless nights of painting and being the middle man whenever Shawn and I couldn’t agree what colour the lamp in the living room should be. 

It felt sad that Shawn couldn’t be here to help out with these things, that we couldn’t do them together as a couple, but I was grateful Brian had been there for parts of it, otherwise I would have never been able to finish. 

It had been hard work and sometimes I had been ready to throw in the towel and call it quits, but the house was finally coming together and it started to feel like a proper home. A home Shawn and I was going to share with each other, a place we belonged. 

Shawn pulled back from our kiss and let his forehead rest against mine while giving my hands a little squeeze. He rubbed his nose against the tip of mine as a warmth spread in my stomach from feeling him close to me. 

“I did tell you Andrew was coming later, right?” His hands folded around mine. “I know it’s going to be pretty late, but it’s the only time we could find.”

“Yeah, you did.” I mumbled, planting a small peck on his lips. “Helping you pack for the European part of the tour, right?”

“Yes, he’s strangely good at packing.” Shawn laughed, shaking his head lightly.  

“And you wouldn’t be able to get through without him.” I joking, sticking my tongue out at him. 

If only Andrew knew how much I had his back when he wasn’t around. 

“I’d be pretty doomed, wouldn’t I?” Shawn admitted with a laughter. The warmth in his eyes forced chills down my body as tip toed to kiss his forehead tenderly.

“Probably.” 

I untangled myself from Shawn’s arms, kissing his cheeks before reaching for the car keys on the counter next to us. 

“You’re going out now?” Shawn asked, wrinkling his forehead. His eyes fell on the watch on his wrist. “It’s like nine.” 

I was already putting my shoes on and tying the laces while gazing over my shoulder to nod at his question. I began looking for my favourite blue jacket, still not entirely sure where I had put our coats. 

“Yeah, I told you.” I said, putting the jacket on. “Brian needs help with his exam.” 

“Again?” Shawn asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “He needs help this late?”

Oh god, here we go again with the attitude. 

Sure, Shawn could get jealous at times. I wasn’t a saint either when it came to that, but he had never made such a fuss about me going to Brian’s. It had never been an issue before but now he seemed to question me whenever I went to see Brian. 

“Is that suddenly a problem?” I responded, a bit confused about his reaction. 

Shawn shrugged his shoulders carelessly as if it didn’t matter, but he barely looked me in the eyes. I rolled my eyes in annoyance, letting out a silent sigh at his behaviour. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Shawn mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “I just feel like you would rather spend your time with Brian than with me.” Shawn stated sourly, allowing his eyes to fall on mine. 

“Well, that’s partly your own fault, isn’t it?” I hissed back at him, fuming with anger. “It’s not my fault you’re always gone. Brian is one of the only people I know here.”

The heated words that blurred from my mouth wasn’t entirely fair and I knew that, I even regretted them as soon as I’d said them aloud. Sometimes, I got upset with how little he seemed to trust, not only me, but his best friend as well.

And to be honest, I had no clue why he was freaking out over this. It had never been a problem in the past. 

“Oh okay…” Shawn replied, rolling his eyes at me. “That was a pretty low blow.” 

The tension in the room had already gotten sour and maybe it was because I felt rather exhausted from these past few months of stressing around but I couldn’t control the frustration that began pumping in my veins. 

“What is your fucking problem, Shawn?” I yelled frustrated at him. “I’m helping your best friend with his exam. Because he spent all this time helping me out with our house. You know, since you weren’t here to do it. The least I can fucking do is help him with an exam that’s freaking him out.” 

“And you’ve just hated spending time with him, haven’t you?” Shawn shouted back, throwing his hands in the air to cope with the anger. “You two sure did look extremely cosy when I facetimed you.” 

“Oh come on, Shawn! Of course, I enjoy hanging out with Brian, he’s your best friend. If I remember correctly, you wanted us to be close. You wanted us to be friends.” I exclaimed, rubbing my palms angrily. 

“That’s not what I meant-“

“I know what you meant and that thought is disgusting.” I fired back, completely shooting down his accusations. 

Shawn was really getting to me right now and I had to watch out that I didn’t let myself go too far. I tended to have a habit of saying things I didn’t mean whenever I was angry, I didn’t want to go there with him. 

And Shawn, well. Shawn had always had a bad temper. 

“But is it true?” Shawn asked, raising his sour voice at me. 

His question was beyond ridiculous and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing sarcastically at his stupid claim. Frustrated with him, I rolled my eyes while shaking my head. 

“You think this is fucking funny?” Shawn yelled, smashing his palm into the counter of our kitchen. 

“Hey!” I screamed back at him. “Calm down, will you?” I felt the heat raise in my cheeks while the anger continued to pump around in my veins. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” He warned, pointing his finger towards me.

Shawn and I were pretty good at winding each other up at times. Our temper, especially Shawn’s temper, sometimes blew up over nothing and sadly, we let it get the best of us. 

We rarely got into fights, but when we did, a wallet or a phone charger might get thrown across the room. Never to hurt or hit one another, but as an escape for our anger. I had become better at walking away when I knew I’d say something that might hurt him, Shawn was still working on that part. 

“This is ridiculous, Shawn!”

“Well, I’m glad my feelings are stupid to you.”

“Don’t put words into my mouth, please.” I replied quickly. “I hate when you do that.”

In compartment to Shawn’s, my voice was too calm for a heated conversation like this. I wasn’t really sure how I had calmed myself down as much. That being said, my body was still vibrating with anger. 

“I don’t want you to see Brian now.” Shawn stated, taking the keys out of my hands. 

“Too bad.” I took back the keys before Shawn could push be off. “Because I’m going.”

“If you leave then don’t bother coming back.” 

“Grow up, Shawn. How is it fair that you’re having Andrew over now and I can’t go help out Brian?”

“Because I’m not fucking into Andrew!”

“I’m not fucking into Brian either for fuck sake!” I screamed back at him. 

Our faces were only inches apart and we could feel the air on each other’s lips when we were screamed at one another. Shawn’s fists were shut and his jaw clenched to cope with the anger he was feeling. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to pick Brian over me!” Shawn snapped, his body tense as ever.

“Why can’t you just trust me?!”

“Why can’t you just be fucking faithful and not go fuck one of my best friends?” Shawn shouted with full force at my face. 

I folded my hands, allowing my nails to dig into my palms as I tried the best I could to not punch Shawn in the fucking face. The words he was throwing at my face was really crossing a line and I wasn’t sure I could prevent myself from blowing up in his face right about now. 

“You are seriously not accusing me of fooling around with Brian, are you?” I hissed back at him, my eyes narrowing him down. 

I felt an uncomfortable cold rush down my spine as I chewed on the inside of my cheek just by the thought of cheating on Shawn. I honestly didn’t understand how Shawn had convinced himself that I could ever be anything but faithful to him. How he could possibly believe that Brian would ever fuck him over like that. 

I had promised Shawn over and over again that I would never fool his heart nor would tool with his feelings. I had promised him that I would never take advantage of his love like I knew others had done before. I had always, and on our first date years ago, promised him that I would never leave him burnt. I always made sure his heart was nothing but safe in my hands and I had never given him a reason to doubt that. 

Shawn throwing lame accuses like this towards me? It was massively insulting to both Brian and I. 

We would never go behind his back like that, we would never string him along. I didn’t understand how he could even have these thoughts in his mind? Brian and I were mates, nothing else. 

But being mates meant helping each other out whenever it’s needed and with all that Brian had done these past couple of months, not only for me but for Shawn as well, the fucking least I could do was help him get through his exams.

Brian was dreading them. Having full-on anxiety about studying because he feared failing and maybe if Shawn had paid more attention to his friend rather than using all his energy on seeing things that weren’t there, he might have noticed how much Brian was struggling. 

“You know what?” “I told Shawn, hardening my tone towards him. “I’m not even going to comment on that. If that’s what you think, fine. I’m not going to stay here and listen to this a second longer.” 

“You’re going to Brian’s, then?”

“Yes, Shawn. I’m going to Brian’s.” I snapped, turning my back towards Shawn. “At least he doesn’t scream at my face.”

“Fucking hell, y/n.” Shawn shouted after me, but I continued walking towards the door with the car keys in my hand.  

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded from behind. I looked over my shoulder and my jaw dropped as I stared blank at Shawn.  

He had punched the wall. 

Shawn had punched a hole in the fucking wall. The bloody idiot punched the wall. 

Shawn was muttering swearwords under his breath, shaking his hand in bare pain from the knock. This thumb was rubbing his sore knuckles, his nose wrinkling in pain. I hurried back into the room, my mouth gaping wide open. 

“Fucking hell.” He muttered, pulling an expression filled with pain every other second. 

“You fucking idiot.” I told him, taking his hand in mine. “What the hell was that for?”

Shawn’s hand had already begun swelling and certain spots were already turning purple. I allowed my thumb to run across his sore knuckles as soft as possible while he groaned in pain. His fingers flickered in pain as I took a better look at his hand. 

“That fucking hurts.”

“Oh really?” I gave him, moving my head to meet his hard stare. 

We both stared at each other for a couple of seconds, full-on anger in our eyes but then, we both burst into laughter. It was unexpected but it forced the frustration to leave our tense bodies. We knew it wasn’t funny but either of us could control it. 

For a moment, we just laughed. We laughed all the anger away until we finally breathed out properly and locked our eyes together again. 

“You’re a bloody idiot.” I whispered, my fingers brushing softly against Shawn’s hurting hand. “You know that, don’t you?”

Shawn didn’t reply but he nodded shamefully at my words. 

I hurried to the freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapping a towel around it and then, swaying back to put it on Shawn’s hand. He made a face as I pressed the ice against his fingers.

Shawn tilted his head to meet my eyes while his free fingers brushing softly against my heated cheeks. I looked up to find him staring as I shook my head at him.

“Honestly Shawn, what the hell were you thinking?” I whispered, holding his hand with the ice on. It probably wasn’t going to help the swelling much, but maybe it would prevent it from bruising too much. 

Shawn stayed silent for a second, his eyes darting to the floor while forcing a deep breath into his lungs. It didn’t take long for his cheeks to become heavily flushed. He was embarrassed, I could tell. 

“I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have acted like that and I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” He whispered, his fragile voice cracking slightly at the end. I sighed deeply and shut my eyes for a second. 

“I just don’t understand, Shawn.” I told him, shaking my head at the situation. “You know I love you. I would never-“

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I even said things like that. I just… I feel so guilty sometimes. Leaving you to yourself most of the time, having to do everything on your own. It feels like all I’m doing is leaving you behind or saying goodbye or missing out on your life and…” Shawn’s words blurred from his mouth and he struggled to breathe properly. “It scares me. It really scares me.” He admitted, his eyes darting around the room. 

“But why? I’ve told you a million times that I’m okay with it. As long as I get to be with you, we’ll always figure all of that out.” 

“Because what if you suddenly change your mind?” He asked me, fear floating his face. “What if you wake up one day and decide it’s not enough anymore? Then you have all of these wonderful people like Brian around you who’s there all the time. Who doesn’t have to leave you or say goodbye. Who can give you attention whenever you want it and who’s there on a daily basis. Who is always here when something good or bad happens to get you through. It scares me. It scares to a point where I can’t breathe.” 

As tears began filling his vulnerable eyes, Shawn’s voice died over and he wasn’t able to finish his sentence. My heart dropped to my stomach as I felt an uncomfortable lump growing in my throat. 

To be honest, his confession felt like a punch to my guts. I embraced his sore hand while using the other to remove a tear stuck on his bottom lip. 

“Baby, look at me.” I said, finding his upset eyes. “I want you, Shawn. I could never find anyone who loves me better than you do. And I could never love anyone the way I love you. You own my heart in all ways possible, you know that. I’m yours entirely and I always will be.” 

“I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He cried silently, his tongue licking teardrops from his lips. “I really hope you know how much I love you.” 

“I know, Shawn. I do.” I assured him, pressing my forehead against his burning forehead. “I love you just as much.” 

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I know, baby. I know. I think you should save your apologies to the wall.” I joked, my eyes popping to the hole in the newly painted, white wall. Shawn cracked up and a little smile ran across his lips. 

“Guess we’ll add another month until we’re officially moved in, hun?”

“And whose fault is that?” I teased him, laughing at his heated face. 

“Well… Maybe we can get Brian to help us fix it.” He shrugged, laughing towards me. 

“I’ll ask him about that. Just promise me you won’t hit him too.” I said, rolling my eyes. 

Shawn forced a laughter at my playful words but his laughter didn’t reach his eyes. He was ashamed of the way he acted, I saw it in his dark eyes. What he did wasn’t okay but I knew he was aware of that. The regret was written all over his pale face. 

Shawn tilted my chin up to expose my lips to his. I didn’t take him long to close the gap between our bodies and kiss me. I kept pressing the frozen bag of peas against his knuckles, making sure it was iced properly. 

“Don’t leave me, okay? I know I have a bad temper and things can get heated, but it’s only because I love you. I’ll work on not losing it, I promise. No more punching walls.” He breathed against my lips. “I won’t let my jealousy get the best of me again.”

“I know, Shawn. But you can’t act like this.” I whispered back, feeling his hand tug into my hair. 

“I know. This is the first and last time, I promise. No more.” 

Shawn was a stupid, at times jealous and frustrating into that jumped to conclusions at times. But he was mine and I wouldn’t trade him for anyone in the entire world. 

“Maybe we should get you a punching bag for the next time you need to blow off some steam?” I mocked him, sweetly. “I mean, if we want to keep our house intact.”

I was convinced Shawn knew, he was going to hear about this for a very long time. He wasn’t getting off that easy and I was sure as hell going to tell his mouther. 

“You’re so funny, aren’t you?”

“Just trying to keep the peace at home.” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. “You know what we could do? We could frame it! Put a spotlight on, an arrow pointing at the hole and stuff. So other guys would know not to mess with my big, bad boyfriend!”

“Seriously, you’re killing me here.”

“Good, because you’re a fucking idiot.”

“I know, I know.” He muttered, placing a kiss on my lips. Shawn reached for the car keys I had thrown on the table and handed them to me. “I think Brian is waiting for you.” 

[silkyandsurveys]

July 3

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now? I'm not 2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? Jrdujdhdhd no 3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care? Yes and no 4: Do you find it easy to trust others? HeeeEeeEeEeeeeLll noooooo 5: What were you doing at 11PM last night? On my phone 6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? Abby 7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on? Throw the closest nearby liquid in their face and then dump their ass and never look back 8: Are you close with your dad? Yeah kinda 9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right? Jehdjchshd noooo 10: What are you listening to? My fan run and the click of the keyboard 11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it? Diet Pepsi 12: Do you like hickeys? Sure 13: What time do you go to bed? Depends 14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down? No? 15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both? No 16: Do you always answer your texts? Yes most of the time 17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? YES 18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? like a 10 minutes ago 19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them? Yeah I guess 20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? I think I was thinking about Ethan dolan because he is a snack 21: Is anyone else in the room with you? Nope just me myself and I 22: Do you believe what goes around comes around? 👏🏻yes👏🏻 23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now? 👏🏻no👏🏻 24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? No 25: In the past week, have you cried? Yes 26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing? Light grey 27: Do people ever call you by your last name? Sometimes people do like I've had people in my life that do but very rarely 28: Is anyone ignoring you right now? Nope 29: Do you have a best friend? Yes 30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? Never seen it and if I did I'd cry 31: Who was your last call/text message from? My coach 32: Are you mad at anyone? No 33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you? Nope 34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? I'm a kiss virgin 35: How many more days until your birthday? It's like 6 months and 18 days 36: Do you have any summer plans yet? Nah 37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex? Nope 38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? Yes????? 39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone? Yes many 40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Nope 41: Do you think age matters in relationships? In some cases like I don't vibe with 27+64 42: Are you available? Hell yes single girlie here 43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended? Ummmm not out of high school im literally a freshman 44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? Nips gotta be honest 45: Do you believe exes can be friends? Ummmmm 46: Do you regret anything? Yes some things 47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now? My crush since there's so many questions about it 48: Did you ever lose a best friend? Yes and it was awesomely great not even being sarcastic 49: Was your last kiss a mistake? Bleh 50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? Because no 51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? Whdhhd 52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? Hdhdjsnd 53: What was the last thing you ate? Drumstick ice cream thingy 54: Did you get any compliments today? Um no cause I'm ugly and I didn't leave my house 55: Where are you going on your next vacation? Not white sure yet probably New Jersey 56: Do you own anything from other countries? Yeppers 57: Are most of your friend guys or girls? Girls 58: Where have you lived most of your life? PA born and raised 59: When was the last time you took a long drive? Like last week 60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? Nope and that seems like the most awk game ever 61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house? Nope I'd rather not get arrested 62: Who do you text the most? My friend abby 63: What was the last movie you saw? Not sure probs beauty and the beast 64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? Enjddb 65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2011? HAHAHAHA I was like 7 66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you? Jehd 67: Do you curse around your parents? I'm not looking to be killed 68: Are you happy with where you live? Yeah sometimes 69: Picture of yourself? No 70: Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships? Closed relationships like I don't understand how you can be ok with your bf or gf having like 15 other bfs or gfs 71: Have you ever been dumped? Nope 72: What do you most like about making out? What the 73: Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with? Why is there so many kiss questions 74: When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other? Wot 75: What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive? Smile, hair, hands legs lol 76: Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed? Already answered this shit 77: Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour? I'm a virgy 78: Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name? ^^ 79: What makes your heart flutter and brings a big cheesy smile to your face? My crush hawhaw 80: Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? At my age hell no but maybe if I was older 81: Has someone who had a crush on you ever confessed to you? Yep and it was awk 82: Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush? I try not to but it always slips 83: Do you miss your last sweetie? What the fuck sweetie lol 84: Last time you slow danced with someone? On vacation a nice worker man dressed as a clown slow danced with my to Bruno mars it was exhilarating 85: Have you ever ‘dated’ someone you’ve never met? Whdhdb 86: How can I win your heart? Be funny, loyal and kind 87: What is your astrological sign? Aquarius 88: What were you doing last night at 12 AM? Sleeping 89: Do you cook? I hate cooking 90: Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication? Yes and I regret it 91: If you’re single right now, do you wish you were in a relationship? Yes :( 92: Do you prefer to date various people or do you pretty much fall into monogamous relationships quickly? Monogamous as I said 93: What physical traits do you look for in a potential interest? My type is brown hair brown eyes tall that sorta thing tan skin is so nice too 94: Name four things that you wish you had! Nah 95: Are you a player? Hawhaw sahahahah yo dude you bet bro 96: Have you ever kissed 2 people in one day? Um no 97: Are you a tease? a lady doesn't kiss and tell ;) jk no 98: Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr? Nope 99: Have you ever been deeply in love with someone? Honestly I think so 100: Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with? Nah 101: Hugs or Kisses? Depends but I'm not really a hugger but I do get told I give reallygood hugs 102: Are you too shy to ask someone out? Oh my god yes I would be sooo scared 103: The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Smile and height 104: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe? Yes 105: If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was in relationship, would you go for it? NO 106: Do you flirt a lot? ummm I don't think so but maybe? 107: Your last kiss? Why 108: Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012? We all died in 2012 what are you talking about 109: Have you kissed anyone in the past month? No 110: If you could kiss anyone who would it be? My crush/ Ethan dolan/ zach from for bragging rights 111: Do you know who you’ll kiss next? Better get my kissing planner out 112: Does someone like you currently? Don't think so 113: Do you currently have feelings for anyone? Yes 114: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? Serious is nice flings are cool 115: Ever made out with just a friend? Ummmno 116: Are you happier single or in a relationship? Wouldn't know :,)