#didn’t even get to post the post I made praising her performance it’s still buried in my drafts

[poebrey]

loved Melissa Barrera in Scream despite her actively being on my shitlist post In the Heights and was planning on watching any sequels with her in it, I hope she gets work after this

[lakefu]

A Perfect Warmth 🕯️

Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...

Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.

“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 

“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.

“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.

He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”

“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 

“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.

“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.

“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.

She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.

“And you think that’s a good look for me?”

His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.

“Yes… I do.”

Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.

Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 

Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.

Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.

“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.

“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.

“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.

“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 

“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.

Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.

“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.

Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.

As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.

“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.

“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.

Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”

Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.

“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.

She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 

One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.

Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 

Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?

He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.

Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 

She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.

She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.

It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.

An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-

“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 

“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.

She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 

Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.

He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.

Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.

Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.

“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.

Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 

The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.

“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.

It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 

“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 

How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 

It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.

Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 

“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 

Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”

“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 

They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 

“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 

“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.

“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.

[quokkacore]

can you dig it? (m) [kim doyoung & kim jungwoo]

summary: post concert highs can be a real bummer, and tonight, after a particularly intense performance, your boyfriends help you come down.

pairing: kim doyoung x kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre: poly!au, 70s!au, band!au, smut, fluff

warnings: drug usage (weed specifically), mentions of other substances (lsd and cocaine), shotgunning, established poly relationship, soft dom jungwoo, mentioned switch jungwoo, hard dom doyoung, sub reader, high sex, sex on a water bed!!, unprotected sex, spit kink, they're all so sweaty help, mxm, degradation kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor possessiveness

song recs: don’t stop - fleetwood mac // unlock it (feat. kim petras & jay park) - charli xcx // love her madly - the doors // ziggy stardust - david bowie // rhiannon - fleetwood mac // eclipse - kim lip (loona) // flick of the wrist - queen

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is for my best friend, who i love with all my heart,bc last month we were talking abt the dowoo photoshoot and she said smth about high sex with dowoo. happy birthday queen <3 thank u for listening to me complain abt writing all the time :’)

masterlist

Friday, July 22rd, 1977

The concert hall smelled like cocaine and sweat, you noted to yourself as the three of you joined hands to bow. Cheers from the crowd bounced off of the walls as you bid them your final goodbye, wishing them a good night and telling them to drive safe. Still, their chanting persisted. "Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel!" 

You wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be a young god.

The curtain lowered, and the three of you were ushered offstage, to take some pictures and then head back to the hotel, to try and get some rest before you were off to Philadelphia, some five or so hours from where you were now: Boston. 

Truthfully, everything passed in a blur. It was almost always like this after these concerts. The thrill and euphoria of performing made it difficult to focus on things. That might have also been because Jungwoo had passed you a joint before the concert. You couldn't be completely sure.

Your tambourine and guitar seemingly disappeared, but you knew it would show up tomorrow for soundcheck when you got to the Philadelphia venue, right along with Jungwoo's bass guitar and Doyoung's drum kit.

What you did know was that here, in the car back to the hotel that your manager was driving, lecturing you and Jungwoo about the importance of being sober when talking to reporters, Doyoung had a hand on your thigh, and that was all you could focus on. 

Doyoung was high too. You knew this because ten minutes before you were needed on stage he pulled you forward by the hips and told you to take a few hits from the hand rolled joint and blow the smoke into his mouth. Of course, he wasn't as high as you and Jungwoo were, and he knew how to hide it better. But if you were to get close enough you'd notice the redness rimming his eyes, the dilation of his pupils.

The three of you were something, that was for sure. You had been, probably ever since Jungwoo joined the band, some eight years ago, in the fall of '69. You only really defined what you were once you got your first big hit thanks to some disc jockey in LA playing a song you had written, Calabasas, on the radio back in '73. 

The song had blown up, and suddenly the three of you were whisked into a whirlwind of celebrities, drugs, paparazzi and producers who thought the three of you were born yesterday. Yes, you were college kids that ran on booze and weed, but you weren’t complete morons. That was when the three of you sat down to properly discuss boundaries, what slid and what didn’t.

You and your boys decided that night that weren’t down with the idea of everyone knowing. Too many prying eyes. The public didn’t really know, because the press would have a damn field day. 

Other than that, it was a pretty open secret. In the industry, who was going around with who didn’t really matter—a lot of them were too off their face to even care. You realized that a few years back when David Bowie walked in on you watching Jungwoo and Doyoung get it on in a bathroom at some afterparty in New York City, and closed the door muttering something about how strong the edibles were.

 So, what your manager said fell on deaf ears. Too much weed, too much adrenaline, too much energy for someone who needed to head back onto the road in a few hours.

 When you finally got back to the hotel, Jungwoo grabbed your hand in the elevator on the way up to your rooms, which were right next to each other. "You said that your bed was really big… can we come up?"

You nodded, leaning against his arm. Doyoung hummed affectionately at the sight, noting how tired you both were. 

"You two are about five seconds from passing out," Doyoung mumbled, and you waved your hand in denial. 

"Are not," you protested like a child.

"Y/N, don't be a chump. I'm pretty sure if Woo weren't next to you, you'd have fallen over."

You didn't have the energy to counter, and as the elevator slid open, you were the first one to march out, ready to just take a cold shower and die for the next few hours. 

Realistically, you knew that wasn't what would happen. What would happen was that you would shower, get into bed and then toss and turn for another hour or so. Only then would the adrenaline truly wear off. The weed didn't help, making you feel sleepy. 

You unlocked the door, and Doyoung and Jungwoo gawked at the sight—and size—of your bed. It could probably fit all three of you easily. 

Since only one room would spark rumors, the manager usually booked two: one for Doyoung and Jungwoo and one for you. Your room always went unused. Usually, you would have to push Doyoung's and Jungwoo's beds together to make enough room, leaving an awkward and uncomfortable dip for the person in the middle. Whoever got the middle was handed the terrible double edged sword: cuddles galore, but a sore back in the morning. 

Immediately Jungwoo jumped onto the bed, gasping and immediately laughed gleefully as the bed sloshed underneath him. 

"A water bed!?" He exclaimed, splaying out his limbs. "Oh, far out. You really lucked out, dollface." 

He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle, eyes fluttering shut. You followed, sitting at the side as you peeled off your white leather go-go boots. Throwing yourself down next to him, you sighed at the sensation of waves beneath you, and nodded. "Oh, this is ace," You murmured, "Feels great."

Peeling one eye open as Jungwoo wrapped his arm around you, your gaze landed on Doyoung, who was still leaning against the wall. You beckoned him over with a hand. "C'mere, princey." 

He made sure that the air conditioner was working before sitting down on the other side of Jungwoo, for which you were grateful. The still drying sweat on the back of your neck and on your chest started to cool instantly. You and Jungwoo giggled as Doyoung’s weight sent waves rippling beneath you.

"So, are you guys gonna sleep or what?" Doyoung asked, kicking his shoes off as well and peeling off his denim jacket. His eyes were still wide open and he didn't look tired at all. "I'm probably staying up a little later, I have some ideas for some lyrics I want to get down—"

"I would love to sleep. But I can't," Jungwoo declared before glancing knowingly at the both of you, "and neither can either of you." 

You hummed in agreement. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Too much energy left."

You turned to bury your face into his chest. His forest green short-sleeved button up was only buttoned up halfway, easily revealing his collarbones. He smelled like pot, sweat, and designer cologne. His chest rumbled as he continued to speak. 

"What about you, bunny boy? You can't tell me you don't still feel it."

"The weed or the concert jitters?" Doyoung's voice was raspy, cautious. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Once you and Jungwoo ganged up on him, it wouldn't take long to wear him down.

"Both," You and Jungwoo said in unison. You laughed at the sound. Doyoung chuckled as well, and you cracked your eyes open, despite how cozy you felt with Jungwoo stroking the skin of your nape.

"Well, the jitters are still there. That's why I'm staying up. As for the weed… well, yeah. I still feel it."

Jungwoo sighed. "How's the weed hitting you, though?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung's eyes met yours, and you felt something simmer in your chest. He huffed, deciding to take a bite of the apple, and leaned towards the both of you. 

"The weed, plus watching you two perform… Safe to say I'm pretty fuckin' horny right now."

You bit your lip, giving him a sleepy grin. "Oh, Woo, we turned him on." The teasing tone wasn't missed despite the sleepiness in your tone. 

"And what about it?" Doyoung asked, leaning back on his hands. "You can't say that watching Jungwoo do the thing doesn't get you going."

"I have a thing?" 

"We all have a thing, Woo. Princey's over there is at the end of Mr. Jones' Motorcycle. You know, when he finishes the solo? He always throws his head back, because there's sweat and hair in his eyes. You can see his neck and shit..."

Jungwoo blinked. "Shit, that is his thing… What's mine?"

You raised an eyebrow at Doyoung. "His is the thing where he gets so into it that he throws his head back and plays, and still manages to get every bass note right, right?" 

Doyoung nodded with a satisfied hum. "Gets you going, right?"

You brought a hand up to Jungwoo's chest, slowly sliding it down his stomach. Your voice lowered to a raspy murmur, and Jungwoo's hand tightened around your waist. "Damn right it does." 

"And plus, you both have told me that watching me put together the drum kit is hot."

"'Cause it is!" Again you laughed as Jungwoo said the same thing you did. 

"Jungwoo." Doyoung's voice sounded thicker. "You can't tell me that Y/N isn't an absolute vixen on stage." 

"You're right," The younger man answered, voice gruff. His hand slid down, gripping your butt and giving it a light squeeze, before directing his words at you. "Oh! Y/N, your thing is when—you know how every time you play the transition from Calabasas to Saturn’s Rings you sway your hips and flip your hair back and forth? Sometimes you’ll look at me or at Doyoung while you do, and you looked at me tonight. You're a little tease up there, dollface."

Your breath hitched at their words. “Oh, yeah?” You goaded, cuddling further into Jungwoo’s chest. You let a coy smile grace your face as your eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Doyoung growled.

“No, Doie,” Jungwoo hummed. He suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “...What would you have her do about it?”

Your eyes fluttered open, swallowing despite the sudden dryness in your throat. Doyoung's pupils were still blown wide, but you were pretty sure it wasn't because of the weed. He licked his lips. "Princess, get on your knees." 

Jungwoo prompted you up, pulling you up to stand at the side of the bed. Doyoung circled around the bed, before standing next to Jungwoo. Your gaze fluttered between your two boyfriends, one looking stern, the other looking like he was having the time of his life. 

Quietly, you lowered yourself to kneel on the plush carpet, fingers gripping the silver fabric of your dress' skirt to hike it up, so that you wouldn't kneel on it. Your hands itched to reach for them but you knew you needed to ask for permission. "Can I touch you?" 

Doyoung smiled, reaching for his belt. "There's our good girl," He said. Your mouth was already watering embarrassingly as you helped him undo his belt, pulling him out of his boxers. He was already half hard, and as you lifted your hand to spit in it, someone grabbed you gently by the rest. Jungwoo leaned over, turning your hand to reveal your palm to him. His eyes seemed to burn into yours as he let his spit fall into the palm of your hand. You felt your legs close, thighs trying to rub together at the sight. 

"Go on," Jungwoo murmured, using a hand on your jaw to move your head. Your eyes fell on Doyoung's cock again, slowly getting harder and harder. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slowly as you met his smoldering gaze. You stroked him until he was rock hard in your grip, and his breathing turned heavy. Again, you swallowed, and Doyoung noticed this time. 

“What is it, princess? You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please,” You whispered, eyes wide. He chuckled breathily, head tipping back as you ran your thumb over the slit. His eyes met Jungwoo’s, who was palming himself through his pants.  

“What do you think, baby?” He asked him.

“Don’t be mean, Doyoung,” Jungwoo said softly. “Look at her, she’s desperate. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whined, nodding. The pair chuckled. Jungwoo grinned at the state you were already in. “Go ahead, dollface. Give it a kiss.”

Before Doyoung could say anything else, you took his dick into your mouth, and let out a soft moan at how heavy he felt, hot and pulsing. He let out a guttural groan of your name, a hand burying itself in your hair. His other hand gripped Jungwoo’s shirt, pulling him forward to meet in a tongue-filled kiss. 

Slowly, Doyoung’s hips started rocking back and forth, grinding into your mouth. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t fit, as well as his balls. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to relax so as to not gag on his length. But when he sped up, it became too much to avoid. 

A tap on your shoulder, and Doyoung let you off of his cock. You turned your head to look up at a very flushed Jungwoo, who had pulled his dick out of his pants as well. The words, “Me too?” tumbled out of his swollen lips. And with that gentle, breathy tone, who were you to disobey?

You wrapped your lips around Jungwoo, who hissed at the sudden heat of your mouth. From there, something primal inside of you took control, wanting nothing more than to please—you took turns sucking them off and stroking them, the muffled sounds of their moaning spurring you on.

It was always like this—during sex, Doyoung was the meaner one, manhandling you and throwing degrading words in your face that made your stomach curl in sick pleasure. He was the one who could put you in your place when you became too bratty to handle. Jungwoo was gentler, but he was all too content to watch Doyoung toss you around. He would always swoop in after Doyoung took you apart, and piece you back together. He’d tell you how good you were, how good you made the both of them feel, and while he definitely didn’t treat you like fragile porcelain, he definitely didn’t leave as many bruises as Doyoung did. 

And then, when they were both done, they’d shower you in kisses, and whisper in your ear how grateful they were to love you, and say some philosophical thing about eternal love and the cosmos that you’d always be too fucked out to comprehend, but that made your heart do a backflip regardless. 

“Shit,” Jungwoo groaned, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.” 

You pulled off of Doyoung to look up at Jungwoo. “In my—in my mouth, please, Woo.”

He nodded, licking his lips as his hands fisted themselves in your hair, gripping but not pulling as he allowed you to touch him the way you wanted. His hands gathered the loose strands into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide your mouth up and down his hot cock. His hips bucked into your willing mouth, the sound of his hissing and his moaning getting louder and louder, until… 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N… Y/N!" He groaned, as he came into your mouth. His head tipped back, which gave Doyoung access to his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin. This sight was worth the bitter taste that coated your tongue: one of your lovers in ecstasy while the other anchored him to the ground. 

He left his dick in your mouth for a moment, before pulling out with a shaky breath. Doyoung pulled away, letting him breathe. As Jungwoo caught his breath, Doyoung pulled you up, and he sat on the bed, bringing you down with him to straddle his lap. 

You turned your head to face Jungwoo, who smiled at you, coming closer to the both of you. One of his hands patted the top of your head. "That was wicked," He said. 

Doyoung smiled softly, and gripped your chin to get you to face him. His sweet grin didn't disappear as his grip forced your mouth open. He groaned at the sight of your tongue coated in Jungwoo's semen. 

"Gorgeous," He mumbled, eyes trained on your lips as it began to spill out. 

"Kiss her," Jungwoo told him, "You know you want to."

So he did, his tongue almost immediately slipping past your lips to get a taste of Jungwoo for himself, swallowing it down greedily. Your hands came up to unbutton his black dress shirt, and his hands pushed up the skirt of your dress to get you to rock your hips against his. You gasped against his mouth at the feeling of only your soaked panties separating him and you, before pushing the shirt off of him. 

He moved to lie you down on the bed. As he pulled away from you, you caught his tongue slipping out to lick at a dribble of Jungwoo's cum on his lips. To make matters even worse, the bed was rolling beneath you, making your head spin. 

Jungwoo pulled his shirt off before he sat down behind you. Meanwhile, Doyoung moved down your body, parting your legs. He prompted you to sit up, resting your back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe as Doyoung peeled your underwear off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your drooling pussy. 

"You're absolutely drenched, princess. And all from sucking our cocks, huh?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as Jungwoo's lips began kissing along your jaw. When you didn't say anything, Jungwoo pinched your sides gently. "Use your words, doll," He whispered. From behind you, his eyes met Doyoung's. "You're gonna keep being our good little girl, right?"

"Y-yes, Jungwoo." Your hand lifted itself to press against his cheek, a silent plea for more kisses. He smiled against your skin. 

"Atta girl," He praised, "On your best behavior for us tonight, huh?" 

"The little slut's just being good because she wants to get fucked, Woo. Don't get it twisted." 

"Please, Doie," You pleaded at the mention of being fucked, "Need it."

The older man chuckled lowly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit. 

"Told you."

His tongue pressed itself against your hole, and you immediately cried out. You would have immediately started grinding against Doyoung's face if it weren't for Jungwoo's hands on your hips, holding you down and keeping it still. 

"I don't think you wanna do that," He murmured. His hands travelled underneath your skirt, gripping the silvery blue gossamer as he tried to lift it up. You did your best to keep your squirming at a minimum as you tried to help him get you out of it. Finally, the bell sleeves were pulled off, and you were left naked as the day you were born.

Jungwoo’s hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he watched you whimper at the sensation of Doyoung’s mouth working at your folds. When he slipped his tongue inside, you keened, head falling against Jungwoo’s shoulder. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” He whispered. 

Your chest heaved, squirming up and down as he began to tug and pinch your nipples, calloused fingertips making you cry out.

Doyoung’s free hand gripped your thigh, and his fingers on the other hand slipped inside when he pulled his tongue out. Immediately, he plunged in two fingers, curling his fingers as he attempted to search for that one special spot.

"Ngh, Doie, faster, pleasepleaseplease." Your legs were trembling slightly now. 

"So fucking slutty," Doyoung mumbled, chuckling wickedly, "And all I had to do was stick my fingers inside." 

He complied with no protest, and the sensation of Doyoung stroking your walls and Jungwoo continuously pawing at your breasts caused a string of moans to come pouring out of your mouth. Jungwoo had been sucking a bruise into your clavicle, but leaned up to press his lips against yours. 

"Don't want anyone hearing what's meant for Doie and I," He said, lips brushing yours. 

The idea made you even needier, the double entendre making your head spin. Jungwoo didn't want anyone to hear you because if they did, rumors would spread. And on top of that? He didn't want anyone to hear. You were theirs. They were yours. This was a sacred ritual between bodies meant to be witnessed by only the three of you.

Your head felt like you were floating, even though your limbs felt like they were sinking into the watery mattress. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, and your soft whines, muffled by Jungwoo's plush lips, increased in pitch. 

They both knew what this meant, because a second later, Doyoung removed his fingers from your core, and Jungwoo pulled away, his hands moving from your breasts to rest on Doyoung's atop your hips. You were left reeling and breathing heavily, that familiar sensation floating away.

When you looked down at Doyoung, you swallowed at the sight of his lips, chin and fingers, all glistening with your wetness.

He lifted himself up off the mattress, and proceeded to sandwich your chest in between his own chest and Jungwoo’s back. He gripped his dick, rubbing it against your folds, which were now even more soaked than before.

"Tell me how much you want it, princess." He pressed his forehead against yours, hissing when the tip caught your clit. You let out a desperate whine, clinging to his broad shoulders. 

"Do—Doyoung, please fuck me," You begged, reeling at the sensation. He was so close, all he had to do was slide in. But he refused.

"Not good enough," He insisted.

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo said, but he seemed to be more amused by your desperation than anything.

"No, I wanna hear how much she needs us."

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gather your words. Jungwoo's hands stroked your sides, trying to calm you down. "You doing alright, doll? You wanna take a breather?"

"We can always stop." Doyoung's voice had turned stable, secure, safe. He started pulling away, until you grabbed him by the forearm and shook your head. You opened your eyes, seeing concern in his eyes

“No,” You mumbled, “Jus’ want some water. Think there’s some in the minibar. ‘M really hot.”

Doyoung nodded, getting up and striding over to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room. He pulled out a water bottle, and popped open the cap before passing it to you. Jungwoo had taken to fanning your face lightly with his hand. You took several long swigs of water, before setting it on the nightstand.

“I’m fine,” You promised. “Can we please keep going? I can take it.”

Doyoung pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah,” You said with a nod. 

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo murmured, “Be careful.”

“I know, baby." He lowered his eyes to study your face. "I won’t go that hard on you, Y/N.”

You nodded, even though deep down you wanted to protest. You knew that this was probably the best route to take. You could already feel the high—from the weed and the concert—wearing off. You knew that if Doyoung were too rough you’d probably crash on the way down instead of float.

So, Jungwoo brushed some stray hair out of your sweaty face, and Doyoung grabbed your legs gently, wrapping them around his hips. Slowly, Doyoung eased in, and you sighed in satisfaction of finally being filled. He bit into your shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths as he let you get used to the sensation. Jungwoo took turns pressing kisses to the top of your head and the top of Doyoung’s head. 

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, “I’m so grateful the universe brought us together.” 

Doyoung looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “My baby,” He murmured against Jungwoo’s lips. He then turned to you and did the same, “My princess.”

You smiled at their words, but the need in your core was becoming unbearable. "Doie, Woo, I love you both so much," You murmured, "But Doyoung, if you don't move I'll pin you down and do it myself."

"And you were doing so well," Doyoung groaned with a laugh, before beginning to thrust his hips. It was a slow, torturous glide, and the way it caused the bed to rock left you dizzy in the best possible way. Doyoung was panting into your ear like some sort of beast, and you were whining softly with every cant of his hips.

"You must feel so good right now, huh, doll?" 

"Jung—woo," You moaned, clawing at his bicep.

"I know, dolly, I know." He sounded sympathetic enough, but the way he was grinding his dick against your ass suggested otherwise. "Bunny boy is just so good with those hips of his, hm?"

"H-he is!" You cried, "Feel so full, ah, Doyoung!" 

Doyoung's eyes met yours, and his hips picked up their pace, until your eyes rolled up into your head. Your head thrashed side to side, leaning against Jungwoo's shoulder. His mouth lowered once again to kiss at your neck, and your hand wrapped itself against his nape, while the other gripped Doyoung's shoulders.

Jungwoo's hands slithered down to where you and Doyoung were connected, and started rubbing at your clit. You shrieked, chest arching. Doyoung hissed. "Shit, do that again," He bit out, "Fuck, princess you just got so tight."

"D-Doie, harder!" 

Doyoung looked up at Jungwoo, the two having an unspoken conversation. A second later, Jungwoo gave a cautious nod. Doyoung smiled, before he adjusted his legs. Then…

Then. He began pounding into you at a breakneck pace. Your legs tightened around him, wanting him even deeper than before. 

"You love this, don't you? Our pretty little slut." His voice was tighter now, panting with exertion. You nodded. 

"Yes, yes! I'm your slut!" 

Doyoung grinned, before locking lips with you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, before letting you do the same to him. You could tell he was starting to feel something—he always kissed you or Jungwoo as a way of telling you he wouldn't last much longer. 

Truthfully, you could feel it coming too—your body felt like it was on fire, and your hips couldn't stop squirming. Whether it was towards Jungwoo's calloused fingers on your clit, Doyoung's cock, or away from both, you couldn't tell. Your moans were getting shriller too.

You clenched down on his length again, and he grit his teeth, grunting as his pace turned sloppy.

"C-c'mon, princey," You pleaded, "Give it to me, give it…"

"Shit, yes…" His head lolled onto your shoulder. "Gonna stuff you so full, princess, you'll be dripping—"

"Please! Oh, please—"

The two of you fell apart almost at the same time, your orgasm triggering Doyoung's a second later. Your mouth fell open, legs trembling and heart pounding as waves crashed over and under you.

When you came down, Doyoung rolled off of you, turning onto his side to watch you and Jungwoo. Jungwoo, who ceased the movements of his hands and slowly laid you down. Your head landed against the pillows, and you let your eyes shut as you caught your breath. 

"Can I take care of you one last time, doll?" You heard Jungwoo say. Your eyes opened blearily, and you reached a hand out towards him, legs parting of their own accord.

Both of your lovers groaned at the sight of your pussy, Doyoung's cum brimming from your folds. 

"Absolute perfection," Jungwoo murmured, crawling between your legs. He gripped his dick with one hand, the other swiping through your folds, and you immediately whined at the sensitivity there, teetering the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Please," You whimpered, "Woo, I want it."

"You're insatiable." He sounded so affectionate, so in love. You watched as his eyes studied his index and middle fingers, covered in a mix of Doyoung's cum and yours, before dipping them into his mouth to lick them clean. You sighed, a dopey smile gracing your features. He lowered himself down to brush noses with you, dark eyes blown wide, wide awake despite the dark circles underneath.

"Guess I'll just have to do something about that."

He slid in as if he was coming home, immediately setting a solid pace that had you seeing stars, arms wrapping around his shoulders to lock hands at his nape. The sensitivity left you pliant in his arms, and Jungwoo didn't hesitate in cradling you in his arms.

"So good for us, Y/N. Always Doie and I's sweet girl." 

You nodded, tears brimming at your eyes at the heaviness in your chest, the pulsing in your core. His hair was falling into his eyes, and you lifted your hands to his face, doing your best to brush it away. Your hands cupped his cheeks, heavy eyes burning into his. Your hips were rutting against his desperately now, wanting nothing more than to feel that high with him.

Jungwoo pressed a brief kiss to your neck, feeling something simmer in his gut embarrassingly fast. 

Doyoung placed his head next to yours, gently lifting Jungwoo's head to kiss him, hand brushing the other man's ass. When he pulled away, he kissed you as well, and Jungwoo's mouth pressed itself to one of your nipples. You keened against Doyoung's mouth, hips losing all semblance of grace.

Here, you were needy, animalistic, running on instincts, and your boys were drinking it up like water from a desert oasis. 

Doyoung pulled away, a thin trail of spit connecting his lips to yours. His hands cradled your head.

"Can you feel it yet, princess?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, silent moans falling from your lips. "Ah, yeah, Doie… s-so close…"

"Me too," Jungwoo groaned between your breasts, "So wet, Y/N…"

"That's from all the cum she's filled with, right, princess?"

You nodded. "Mm—ngh! Stuffed me so good, Doie." 

"Yeah? You gonna let Jungwoo fill you up even more? Gonna keep it all inside, right?"

Your stomach did a backflip, and you felt your toes curl. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I want it—"

"I'll give it to you, doll," Jungwoo growled, "It's all—fuck—all yours. S-same way this is all for us, right?"

Those words were what caused you to finally fall over the edge. Your high was so intense that you could have sworn that your ears popped—clawing at Jungwoo’s shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut. Only one side ended up scratched, since you always kept your right hand nails short to properly play guitar. You sobbed against Doyoung’s lips, and he eagerly swallowed up your cries, shushing you gently as you came back down.

You didn't feel Jungwoo come inside, but you felt it immediately afterwards—the satisfying stickiness, the warmth in your stomach. 

You looked at Jungwoo, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before prompting him to move off. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him as his little spoon, peppering kisses to your cheek and whispering how good you were. The two of you looked at Doyoung. You reached out, making grabby hands at him. His eyes were drooping, and he was blinking blearily as if he were trying to fight off sleep.

Still, he got up and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, as well as his lighter. As he sat back down on the bed, the waves sent you and Jungwoo further and further into the recesses of slumber. As consciousness left you, you caught Doyoung looking down at the two of you as if you were the most precious beings he'd ever encountered. His tone was low and grumbly, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eye.

"I hope you two are happy. I can't remember those goddamn lyrics anymore." 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A new kind of competition; RA on the Masked singer pt. 2

*Author’s note*

Okay I know I’m kinda doin this out of order but I was posting this part on Wattpad and since it was still in my copying memory I decided to post this part up first but no worries, pt. 1 will be posted up in just a minute. And I wanna tell you all that there will be only TWO MORE chapters left before I finally complete the Rock Angel series. Enjoy this chapter until next time my dears :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@queendeakyy

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@wormzteef

@bohemiansweede

_________________________________________________________

*Round 5. THE SUPER 8*

Now it was starting to get serious, this was now the Super 8 and this was the first time this season that 2 people were gonna get eliminated.  I took a deep breath and gave a silent prayer to God and Freddie above to give me strength.

“And here to give us yet another star-stellar performance and another few hints as to who this mega star could be under the mask. Here’s the Lioness.”

The LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE

“What very few people don’t know about me is that I didn’t always have that good of a homelife as a child.” I said as I walked through a child’s room.  I took hold of my stuffed lion and hugged him tightly as I continued, “The people who raised me were well—let’s just say they weren’t the nicest of people. The remainder of my childhood into adolescence was toxic for me.”

“Oh my god.” Nicole muttered sympathetically.

“Growing up with that much toxicity it really damaged my self-esteem. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t enough for them.”

“Growing up in an abusive home.” Robin noted. “Wonder if she’s an advocate for domestic abuse?”

“But I knew I couldn’t let myself be buried underneath all that hatred. It took a long, long, long, long time. But I forgave them. Because in a way without them, I wouldn’t have found this inner strength within me.”

“You go Lioness.” Cheered Jenny.

“That’s why for this performance, if you or a loved one is dealing with toxic family members or partners. There’s no shame in admitting they’re in the wrong. Because if you continue to listen to their toxic lies, it’ll only lead you down one way. And you’re too good to leave this world just yet.” I set the stuffed lion down and punched the wall which shattered as I let out a proud roar.

I stood there on stage with the mic on hand as my girl Pink’s “Beautiful trauma” came on and I began singing in a ballad like tone first.  Slowly walking across the stage till I came upon a beautifully decorated swing (much like the Black Swan used a couple rounds ago).

*Me*

We were on fire I slashed your tires It's like we burned so bright we burned out I made you chase me I wasn't that friendly My love, my drug, we burn out

Oh

I got on the swing and it slowly raised up, lifting me all the way high above the audience as I sang the 2nd chorus. As the mantra part of the chorus came up, silk extended from the ends of the swing and I slowly swung back and forth making the silks dance gracefully in the wind.  When the bridge came up, I turned on my semi-good rapping skills. As I rapped out the bridge, the swing lowered me down towards the catwalk that stood in front of the judges.

Once my feet touched the ground and I sung the last verse, I walked towards the judges and sung before each of them.  

*Me*

The pill I keep taking The nightmare I'm waking There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you My perfect rock bottom Beautiful trauma My love (my love), my love, my drug, oh

My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my drug.

Mmm tough times they keep coming All night laughing and knackered Some days like I'm barely breathing Then after we were high and the love dope died, it was you

The pill I keep taking The nightmare I'm waking There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you My perfect rock bottom My beautiful trauma My love, my love, my drug, oh

After walking back on stage with Nick standing at my side, he congratulated me on another amazing performance.  

“The Lioness is pulling our heartstrings once again.”

“I agree Nick. Especially after hearing that story of her going through domestic abuse that—that’s never an easy thing to go through. But Lioness let me just say you are a strong woman underneath. Because I can tell you’ve overcome that trauma and made a name for yourself.” Nicole told me.

I pounded my heart and raised my hand towards her.  She gave me a heart back.

“Now we raided through your fridge and found out just what exactly the Lioness loves to eat.”

“Oh come on Nick this is easy! She eats meat!” Ken exclaimed.

“Sit your butt down Ken!” Nick exclaimed. “Men in Black, bring out the Lioness’s favorite meal.” One of them came pulling out a cooler and sat it right beside Nick and he said. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got in here.” There was a drumroll before he opened it to reveal a thermos that read JASMINE TEA.

“What’s that say on the thermos?” asked Jenny.

“Jasmine tea.”

“But there’s no food there!” complained Ken.

“To answer your Question Kenneth.” I scolded. That got the rest of the panel as well as Nick laughing. “Any type of food is good for me, but it’s this tea that will give you a clue. As to who I am.”

The audience and Nick ooed.  Jenny’s mouth opened widely as she rapidly pounded her stack of notes.

“Jenny it looks like you’ve got something.”

“I do! I do! I do! I do! I do! Okay so in the clue package she talked about her abusive childhood. Rough upbringing, but she didn’t say parents were the ones doing it. And the number code that was given to us awhile back, that 149121. I have been running through my head various codes as to what that could mean. Until the TEA is what gave me the idea.”

“Who is it?!” Ken demanded.

“At least she’s making more sense than you do Ken!” Robin dissed.

“Okay the code actually stands for 11-24-91. And this Rockstar has a tattoo of it on her shoulder with Angel Wings to remember her friend and mentor Freddie Mercury. This is most definitely the ROCK ANGEL (Y/N) KLINE!!!”

“Oh yeah that’s right. She does have a tattoo with that date on it.” Robin agreed with her.

“Nah I’m gonna disagree with you on that Jenny.” Ken said.  Oh boy here we go. “Now going off based off the clue package we saw domestic abuse. And on the number code the first few numbers I picked out were 911.  This actress started in a movie known as “The Call”. Welcome to the Masked Singer Halle Berry!”

I shook my head and crossed my arms at him.

“Look at her she’s agreeing with me.”

“Ken this is not Halle Berry!” Nick Cannon said.  I then waved bye to Nick as I proceeded to walk off the stage but he told me to come back, so I had no choice but to stand there. “See Ken you made the Lioness upset just like you did with Nick Carter last season.”

“Hey like I said before then. This isn’t the first time someone’s walked away from my guesses, and it won’t be the last.”

“I think I might have an idea on who it might be.” Nicole piped in.

“Go head Nicole.”

“Okay so we saw the domestic abuse, growing up in an abusive home. But I also remember from a few weeks back there was a sign that said AIDS. So I’m thinking she’s also an advocate for AIDS/HIV awareness. I’m gonna put my money on Rihanna.”

Oh wow that’s impressive.  But sadly she’s wrong.  Although I have helped Rihanna with some of her AIDS awareness promotion when the two of us were at a party together for MTV.  She told me she wanted to start a campaign for it but had no idea where to begin with it.  So I gave her some of my well known contacts and gave her some business advice that I remember learning from Deacy on how to handle everything.

“That’s not a bad guess. But Rihanna’s got a different voice. But whoever you are, you wowed us once again Lioness.” I bowed and blew them a kiss as Nick told me that I could head backstage.

“The judges are slowly but surely getting a grip with my identity. But I’m not ready to go home just yet. And if I somehow make it through, I’ll give them a performance that’ll definitely throw them off my scent.”

Thankfully, I was safe from being unmasked in this double elimination, however Seashell and the Yeti weren’t as lucky.

*Round 6. THE SPICY 6*

It’s down to the wire now.  This song might just make me or break me, especially since it’s the hardest song I’ll ever do in my entire singing career.  But like Freddie and I always say, “It’s go big or go home darling.”  Plus this is another special performance that I’m dedicating to.

“Now then we actually got to sit down and actually talk with this Megastar. Here’s what we managed to find out about the Lioness.”

THE LIONESS CLUE PACKAGE AND INTERVIEW.

This clue package showed me getting my mask taken off but I still had a black face cover hiding my entire face.

“Oh yes that feels so much better.” I praised at feeling the cool air on my face.  The Producer then asked me.

“So how has it been being the Lioness so far?”

“A lot of fun. She’s given me the courage to do things I never thought I could do before.” The screens would show some of my previous performances from getting on a wrecking ball to being lifted well over 10ft above an audience.

“What would winning the Masked Singer mean for you?”

“Well I’m not just doing it for myself. But for my pride as well. Especially my dad.”

“You’re dad?” I nodded.  The screens would then show me walking around my den with a picture of me and a shadow figure of a male lion.

“Not related by blood but he’s been my father figure for as long as I’ve known him. In fact without his love, I never would’ve found true love on my own. My husband, my kids, even my grandkids. They wouldn’t have existed had he not given me the love that I was denied growing up.” I stroked the picture of the shadow figure of the lion beside me.  The screen also showed my real family with my husband lion, 4 adult kids and 2 young grandkid cubs.

I pressed the frame up to my mouth and gave it a kiss, the screen even made a kiss sound effect as little hearts danced around it.

“So Papa Lion, this song is for you. I love you so much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” I blew a kiss to the camera as my clue package and interview ended.

The ballad opening for “I don’t wanna miss a thing” by Aerosmith came on and I took a deep breath.  This was it, but you’re doing it for Roger here (n/n).  Even though he won’t know it, this song is for him. I opened my mouth and soon began singing.

Once the bridge came around and the most difficult part of the song came on, I unleashed every ounce of alto rawness I had within me and just belted out that last yeah which made fireworks rain down from the ceiling and the audience seemed to enjoy it.

*Me*

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing Watch you smile while you are sleeping While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender I could stay lost in this moment forever Cause moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't want to close my eyes I don't want to fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream will never do I'd still miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

And I don't want to miss one smile I don't want to miss one kiss

And just stay here in this moment For all of the rest of time Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Don't want to close my eyes Don't want to fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

After finishing the song, fireworks came up behind me as I punched my fist into the air and panted from within my mask.

“Oh my god where did that come from!?” exclaimed Jenny.

“The lioness taking us to the far reaches of outer space with Armageddon!” Nick proclaimed as he came up beside me.

“I wanna say something first Lioness. That was probably your best performance ever.” Robin told me.  Oh my god seriously? I knew I had cracked up on that last ‘yeah’ but to hear him say this was my best performance surprised me. “You really laid it out on the line tonight with probably the hardest song but you executed it phenomenally.” He praised.

I bowed my hands in gesture to him telling him I wasn’t worthy.

“Alright now let’s see just who amongst our panel is the Lioness connected to.” The judges all looked up and soon my chute came down towards Ken but Nicole intercepted it from him and she said.

“Oh it’s for Jenny.” She passed it to Ken who passed it to Jenny and she saw the silver charm of a birthday cake.

“A birthday cake.” She told the crowd as she held the charm between her fingers.

“Jenny. I wanna thank your husband for performing at one of my kid’s birthday party.” At that the crowd got all suspicious and Jenny’s face was gaped wide in shock.

“Is Donny doing things behind your back?” Nicole accused Jenny.

“I hope not.” God these innuendos kill me. “Okay so apparently you know my husband Donny. But I-I don’t remember him ever telling me he performed at a kid’s birthday party.”

“What about the entire New Kids on the Block?” asked Robin.

“Possibly. Was it just my husband or the entire band that performed at your kid’s party?”

“You know she can’t answer that!” Nick snapped playfully.

“I’m sorry but I gotta know!”

“Alright panel. What’s this clue package doin for you?”

“Okay well in the clue package there was the picture of her family. I saw four grown kids and 2 grandkids. If she really is a grandma then I still gotta go with Rock Angel. Because her daughter Kelly just recently gave birth to a baby girl last year during the pandemic doing an at home birth.” Nicole said.

“Yeah and in the clue package she spoke about a father figure. And I read somewhere that she considers Roger Taylor from Queen her dad.”

“Okay, okay panel.” Damn they are starting to see it now.  But I hope this performance keeps me in the game.  “Well, all we know is was that was yet another killer performance. Make some noise for the Lioness. Go ahead and head on backstage.”

The judges really are seeming to close in on me. I really don’t wanna go home at this point but if I do then it is what it is.  I still had a lot of fun doing this show and it was an amazing ride.

But at the votes, I was surprised to see that it wasn’t me that was going home.  But the Russian Dolls, after doing Elton John’s song “I’m still standing”. I thought they did a hell of a lot better than me but I guess it’s not always the voices that count, but how you execute the performance.

Now it was onto the Semi-finals.

*SEMI-FINALS*

I’ve come too far to end this journey now. The Semi-finals is the last step to ensure that I can secure my spot in the finals.  And I have just the song to get me there.

“Week after week she has astounded us with pure, unadulterated vocals. But can she claim her spot for the finals. Let’s dig up some more clues on……the Lioness.”

THE LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE:

“Being in this competition has taught me a lot about myself. On one side there’s the Lioness I present before the media, when I preform or out in the public. Then there’s the Lioness I am around my pride. A mother, a daughter, a grandmother. And I think that’s really the best job compared to my career.”

“She’s definitely a family woman.” Jenny stated as she took down some notes.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere without my family. They are my rock. Even those that had left me I still see them throughout my life.” I stood before a funhouse mirror maze and saw various shadows surrounding me. “And it’s their voices that give me the courage to continue the fight. So for this performance I’m gonna pull out all the stops and just allow you all to see the real me. Nothing but my raw vocals. I’ve fought to hard and I’m just not ready to go home yet.”

The stage screens were lit up with a rain animation as well as rippling water.  I stood there alone with the mic and the spotlight down on me as I sung the song that was once offered to me for the Original movie, but I recommended the Producers to Christina to do the song.

As the song grew more fiercer with the soft drumbeats and my voice became more powerful and intense, I could feel tears filling my eyes once more.  I was gonna get to the finals even if it costs me my voice.

*Me*

Look at me You may think you see Who I really am But you'll never know me Every day It's as if I play a part

Now I see If I wear a mask I can fool the world But I cannot fool my heart

Who is that girl I see

Staring straight back at me?

Why is my reflection

Someone I don’t know?

There's a heart that must be free to fly That burns with a need to know the reason why

Why must we all conceal What we think, and how we feel?

I won't pretend that I'm Someone else for all time When will my reflection show Who I am inside? When will my reflection show Who I am inside?

At that last belt which I held longer than I ever held a note before.  A 9 full seconds which made the crowd go berserk.  I could see some people wiping their tears away as I sung the last couple of notes before finally ending it with a bow of my head.

“Heartfelt! Lioness once again pulling our heartstrings.”

“Okay I just need to say this Nick.” Ken said.

“Go ahead Kenneth.”

“Throughout this entire competition especially when it comes to the Semi-finals, it all comes down to who wants it most. And Lioness—” he wiped his tears away. “You didn’t just show us that you wanted a spot in the finals. You proved you’re worthy of the Rock Gods!”

Aww Dr. Ken.  I blew him a kiss and patted my heart and he blew me multiple kisses back.

“For once I agree with Ken.” Robin said.  “If people didn’t get teary eyed when you performed Whitney Houston’s hit song, they’re definitely not dry eyed by now.” The 2 women nodded in agreement.

“I agree with the guys. I grew up listening to this song. And to hear your voice do this song, not only did you just sing it. You felt it. And when a singer feels a song, it makes it that much more powerful.” Nicole added.  I nodded and replied to her.

“Agreed Nicole. This song……it really spoke out to me when I first heard it. And…..during a really, really rough time in my life. It—got me through so much.” I spoke through my choked tears. Knowing the judges could sense that I was crying underneath the mask, they all awed at me as Nick rubbed my back.

“Lioness even getting emotional up here. Panel, any guesses as to who she might be?”

“All I can say and have been saying is that this is a true, professional performer. And just that belt alone showed us what you’ve got. A true fire within you. Now I know that I’ve said the Rock Angel a couple of rounds but just this week alone hearing the voice, I wanna say this is Christina Aguilera.” Jenny said.

“But wouldn’t it be risky for her to do her own song?” Robin asked.

“She could’ve disguised her tone in order to sing it. But that recognizable control of the belt has to be her.” Jenny reasoned with him.

“I don’t think so Jenny. Cause in the clue package she says she’s a grandmother and Christina ain’t no grandmother yet. I’m still gonna say this is the Rock Angel.” Nicole said.

“Alright well, another heartfelt performance. Give it up one last time for the Lioness.” I waved to the audience and blew kisses at them before exiting the stage.

By the end of the round (and finding out the identity of the infamous Cluedle-Doo being none other than Jenny’s husband Donnie Wahlberg) it was time to see just who was gonna get eliminated and find out who was going into the finals.  I stood there with my hands in a prayer as I mouthed out a prayer before Nick finally said the contestant going home.

“The Black Swan!” oh no!  She’s actually been my favorite singer in our group.  Hell she and I were the only ladies representing Group B and now it was up to me.  “So congrats to the Piglet, Chameleon and Lioness, we will see you three in the finals.” I walked up towards Black Swan and gave her a hug and she hugged me back. “Aww look at that, Lioness giving Black Swan a hug. Seems we’ve got a friendship up here.”

I patted the side of her face before bopping her beak and finally left behind Chameleon.  Well it was up to me now, could I secure another female winner for the Masked Singer? Or be runner up? Only fate and the superfans will determine that.

*?????? POV*

I was reading the paper as per my morning routine.  Nothing new except this whole COVID talk and false expectations on the vaccine delivery. The world really has gone to shit hasn’t it these past few years?  That’s when I got a ding on my phone from my daughter Laura.  I unlocked it and read her text with a link to a video.

Dad, is this who I think it is?

Video: MASKED SINGER THE LIONESS

I think I might’ve heard of this show. Yeah it started off in America and after it’s popularity, various of other countries began it.  Here in the UK we just completed season 2, so this must be the American version.  I’ll admit the costume on the thumbnail looked beautiful and the detail was astounding.

I clicked on the video and it read THE MASKED SINGER S.5 SEMI-FINALS LIONESS.

The lights were dimmed and the second she opened her mouth to sing, my heart skipped a beat and I went frozen in my chair. Quick as I could I turned on our smart TV and opened up the YOUTUBE app on the TV and impatiently waited for it to open up.

“My love?” Veronica’s voice spoke as she came down.

“I’m fine dear!” I told her as the app finally uploaded.  I went over to the mic icon and pressed down on it and spoke into the remote. “The Lioness Masked singer.”

Soon enough various videos popped up and soon the video that Laura sent me was the first option.  I clicked on it and of course bloody ads had to come up. “Oh for god’s sake!”  I sat down on my chair as the video finally played and I could hear the rest of the song.

“Reflection” by Christina Aguilera.  This version was the recently updated one for the live action remake but just hearing this voice alone I knew only one person who could sing like that.

It had been decades since we last saw one another, shortly after 9-11 to be exact.  But even though I’m no longer involved with the music business anymore, I’d always ask Brian or Rog to keep an eye on her and tell me everything about her.

And now seeing her perform as this Lioness creature for such a show, they didn’t know just how lucky they were to be in her presence.  As the song got more powerful, I could feel these old bones of mine feeling warm and secure, tears filled my eyes and at that last belt, goosebumps came all over my body and a shiver ran up my spine.

There was a slight tremble in her voice as she ended the song.  I knew it was because she was crying underneath that mask but as always she holds out strong and finished the song as beautiful as ever.

The audience roared with applause bringing back some memories of when she went on tour with us.  Only her and one other person could get a crowd to sound just like that.

“She’s gotten stronger with her vocals.” My wife’s voice spoke from behind me.

“She was taught by the best. And she now coaches the best.” Ronnie took her place by my side, placing her hand on top of mine.

“You really should give her a ring sometime. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.” I turned away from her.  “You can’t have the boys and me be your messengers forever. I know for a fact she’d be happy to hear your voice again.” I sighed deeply. “At least think about it my love.”

“I will.” I placed my hand on top of hers and gave her a light peck on the cheek.

“Are there any more performances of her on this show? Luke says she’s been all over the media being the Lioness.”

“Well that was the Semi-finals performance, let’s see if someone collab all of her performances together.” I went back to the search box and soon found about a half hours’ worth of (Y/n)’s performances. I clicked play and soon her 1st performance came up.

Seeing her dance reminded me of our times on the dance floor back in the day.  She was the only person able to keep up with my crazy dance moves, and that’s why she was always the perfect dance partner.  Even Ronnie agreed to that statement.

“That girl never changes. She’s still got it even after all these years.” Ronnie smiled.

“That she does love, that she does.” God she has grown so much since the last time we parted.  Her voice much more mature and able to do things she never did before. And some of the stuff that she’s doing on this show is bonkers.

Never did I think I’d see her on a makeshift wrecking ball or be lifted high above the stage on a swing with silk ropes dangling down from it.

I hope she takes the gold and win this little show of hers because she rightfully deserves it.

*FINALE*

It is time.  Do or die now.  It was me vs. Piglet vs. Chameleon.  After performing a beautiful, angelic performance with last season’s winner LeAnn Rimes, the finals were finally ready to start.

After a couple months of going from 14 down to 3, it all came down to this moment right here, to determine who was gonna be this season’s Masked Singer champion.  Chameleon went first and then I was going to be next.  Chameleon had stuck to his rapping but I could hear more singing out of him this time around and he actually had a pretty good voice.

“Up next. She’s been putting us through a roller coaster of emotions. From hard rock to ballad. Here is the last performance and your last chance to guess at who is beneath, the Lioness.”

FINAL CLUE PACKAGE.

I was walking through a tunnel slowly.  One foot in front of the other.

“Being on the Masked Singer has really been a lot of fun. When I first came on here, never did I think I was gonna make it this far.” The screen would show highlights of all my previous performances along with some additional clues.

Like a familiar band logo at the corner and season 3’s champion Night Angel’s wings. And the year 1981.

“This song was written by a very dear friend of mine. A friend that was taken from us far too soon. But it’s through this song that win or lose, I’ll always take with me till the day I die. Because no matter what, we will always make it through the tough times, especially with what we’re going through now with the Pandemic.”

The stage was dark except for a few lights as the familiar tune of Freddie’s last song he ever performed in the studio came on. I was having brief flashbacks of that day in the studio seeing him record this very song but I had to get my mind right as I sung the first verse.

Once the chorus kicked in, fire exploded from behind the stage as my rock and roll band came back on once more.  The stage was mine to command one last time as I walked across it for the chorus, giving it my all, just like Freddie did.

By the time the bridge came on, my voice was starting to tremble but I kept my emotions under control till the end of the song.  When I got around towards the end of the song, I would hold out a few of the notes till I finally belted out the last note much like Freddie did on the record.

And I swear it was like I could hear him singing alongside me, guiding me to hold the note out longer.

*Me*

Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for? Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends

The show must go on

Yeah, yeah! The show must go on

Oh yeah! Yeah! I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show

I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on. On with the show. Show. The show must go on.

As the song ended, fireworks fell down from the roof and fire and smoke exploded from the side of the stage as I panted heavily with my arms extended outward.  With the last struck of the drums and guitar, I punched my fist into the air.

I sent a quick kiss to the Heavens as the audience went insane.  I saw all five judges on their feet applauding me.

“The Rock and roll Lioness showin us that the Show must always go on.” Nick praised.

“I swear each and every performance you do, it just gets better and better! You could just be this season’s winner.” Jenny told me.  I clenched my hands and did a victory gesture with them, I could only hope I’d win but it’s not up to me.

“I would agree. She just keeps escalating and escalating her performances and I’m just in awe whether it’s her rocking out or pulling our heartstrings with her raw voice.” Nicole said.  Even last year’s winner LeAnne said.

“Hearing this voice alone makes me feel like I’m looking at a champion singer here.” I placed my hand over my heart in thanks.

The judges then proceeded to do some more guesses, Robin and Nicole were saying that I was the Rock Angel while Jenny was saying that I could be Christina Aguilera and of course Dr. Ken (out of the blue) decided that I was Beyonce.

“So tell us Lioness, what would it mean to you to win this competition?” Nick asked me.

“Well Nick, winning would mean that I’ve given my fans a whole new side of me that they’ve never seen before. But even if I don’t win, I still had a blast being here.”

“We were happy to have you here. Give it up one more time for the Lioness everybody!” I waved to the audience and walked backstage.

“This whole experience has been a wild ride. But I had a lot of fun, win or lose.” I told the camera with the Men in Black behind me.

The Piglet then did his song, “Faithfully” by Journey and man did he kill it.  He definitely pulled my heartstrings with that performance.  So it could be a close race between him and I, or there could be a game changer and Chameleon could take the trophy as the first rapper to sing solely Rap/Hip-hop songs.

“Tonight was a star-worthy performance, but as we know only one can take home the Masked Singer trophy. Now it’s up to our judges and Superfans at home to vote for your favorite now.” I stood between Chameleon and Piglet with my hands together in a prayer.  “The votes are in. The contestant with the least amount of votes and in 3rd place is…….”

There was suspense in the air as I felt my foot shake just waiting for Nick to say which one of us got in 3rd place according to the votes of the judges as well as America.

“The Chameleon!” the audience gaped in shock. “That means Piglet and Lioness you both are safe and can head backstage before we call you both back out to crown a winner. Let’s make some noise for the Chameleon everybody!” I walked up to the Chameleon and extended my hand and we shook hands before I walked with Piglet at my tail as we both waited backstage.

About 10 minutes later, we were told to come back onto the stage to finally crown a winner of Season 5 of the Masked Singer. Piglet and I stood on opposite sides of Nick as he held in his hand, the envelope with the Winner’s name.

“Welcome back to the Masked Singer.  It is now time to crown our new Season’s champion. Piglet, or Lioness. Which one of you will be taking the golden masked trophy home? The votes are in by the judges and the super fans. And the winner is……..” I could see Piglet’s legs shaking as he has made them every time throughout this entire season, while I was rubbing my hands together nervously.

Nick opened the envelope before proclaiming into his microphone.

“THE PIGLET!!” confetti soon exploded covering both me and Piglet up with strings of blue and silver confetti.  Piglet stood there shocked while I clapped for him. He deserved the win, he did a great performance and a great song to close out this season with.  He took the golden mask trophy and danced with it as Nick said.  “Congrats again Piglet you are this season’s champion. Which means you can stand over there in the championship booth till it’s time to unmask you.”

Before Piglet left, I walked up to him and patted his shoulder before giving him a hug and he hugged me back.

“Aww Lioness is being all cuddly with our contestants here.” Piglet and I shook hands with each other for a good competition while I went back to my spot to be unmasked once and for all.  “Lioness you’ve wowed us week after week and as sad as we are to see you go, I think I speak for everybody here, we cannot wait to see who you are!”

The judges all agreed as well as the audience.

“But first, let’s bring out the first Impression guesses. Men in Black! Bring ‘em out!” I could already see the judges pleading for them to not to.  “Yeah it’s been like—months since you guys wrote these down.”

“Can we please not do this Nick?” pleaded Jenny.

“Too late. And the first guess is from…..Nicole.”

“Oh god.”

“You guessed……Christina Aguilera. Not a bad guess.”

“Yeah that really isn’t a bad guess. However I’m not gonna stick with that. Based off the clue package of LGBTQ, and growing up in a domestic abusive home, plus the recent clue package with the symbol of the band Queen’s logo and the Rock n Roll hall of fame right beside that. I’m gonna go with the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s see who else we’ve got here……Robin!”

“Oh no.”

“You guessed……Pink.”

“Oh that’s not too bad.” He shrugged.

“You stickin with it?”

“I am not gonna stick with that. Like Nicole I did see the Queen logo in this week’s clue package and just going off by the voice alone. I re-listened to some old records and this is clearly the Rock Angel herself.”

“Alright 2 votes for the Rock Angel. Mrs. Jenny McCarthy.” Jenny sunk down in her chair as Nick grabbed her envelope and opened it up. “Your first impression of the Lioness was……also Pink.”

“Oh thank god I thought I had pulled a Ken guess.” She wiped her hand across her forehead as Ken exclaimed.

“Hey!”

“Ken sit down! Are you sticking with that guess.”

“No. The number code we were give, the 149121. Which I’ve coded as her tattoo for the date of Nov. 24th, 1991, the date when Freddie Mercury sadly passed away from complications from AIDS. And seeing how she talks about her family, her kids, her papa Lion. I’m going for (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel!”

“Alright, alright, alright. Dr. Ken……” oh this outta be interesting to see who he thought I was at the first performance.  He opened Ken’s envelope and laughed.

“What? What did he write!?”

“Janet Jackson!” oh my god! That even got me weak in my knees as I laughed.

“With those dance moves I thought it could be her! No one could’ve done that dance better than she could! DON’T LAUGH AT ME!!”

“Are you sticking with that guess?”

“No because the clue package doesn’t support it. Okay so we’ve had LGBTQ, domestic abuse. She’s a family woman with 4 kids and apparently 2 grandkids. Although I think the grandkids is a lie. She went through some tough times throughout her personal life. This is none other than Lady Gaga! Welcome to the Masked Singer!”

“What?!” Nicole exclaimed.  “But she’s not a mom!”

“Well then she could be lying about the kids then too all I know is that the rest of my brilliant theories lead to Lady gaga!” I shook my head and placed my hands over my mask shaking my head in defeat. “See! She’s even admitting I’m right!”

“No she’s not she’s just done with how ridiculous your guess is.” Nick said.

“Well I don’t care. This is Lady Gaga and I’ll take it to my grave!”

“Alright. Ms. LeAnne. As our guest panelist you have the last say in who you think this might be.”

“First of all let me just say you are a super star whoever you are under there. If we had competed against each other last year, I would’ve been quaking in my boots.” We all laughed. “This is truly a rock legend under here with the few rare female rockstars that came with the time. And I actually got the privilege to see her perform with the band Queen one year for a birthday party. And there’s only one person that I’ve seen on stage that can sing with as much fire as you Lioness. And that is the Rock Angel herself.”

“Okay Panel. Everyone except for Ken Jong has agreed on their final guesses. Lioness! It is time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. We wanna know—whose behind the mask. It is time for you to Take it off!”

“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” everyone soon started chanting.  I held my arms out in a shrug before shrugging my shoulders and finally reaching for my mask and tried to lift it off.  Nick was helping me as the audience and the judges kept chanting.  I could tell I was keeping them in suspense, just wait until they see it’s really me.

Finally the mask came off.

I shook my head and pulled my hair out of my face and the crowd went nuts, the judges all jumped up and cheered.

“THE ANGEL OF ROCK HERSELF! ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAMER! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THE ONE AND ONLY (Y/N) KLINE!! THE ROCK ANGEL!!!”

“OH MY GOD!!” I heard some of the judges exclaim.

“Look how beautiful she is!” Nicole praised me. I waved to the audience and gave them a “Freddie Mercury” like bow with a twirl of my hand.

“Hello LA!” I said.

“Angel! Angel! Angel! Angel!” I heard the crowd chanting out.

“Wow it is such an honor and a privilege to be standing here next to a true Rockstar.”

“It’s an honor to be here Nick. Thank you all for having me here.” I told him.

“Tell us why did you choose to be in this show?”

“I know this answer gets told a lot but for me personally I speak from the hard truth that we should all strive to do different things cause—you never know which days are gonna be your last.” I hinted my potential death scare almost 20 years ago.  The judges all nodded in understandment.

“And I’m told that you also wanted to say something about this performance in particular?”

“Yes. The song I had done wasn’t originally my choice.” The audience as well as the judges all looked at me in surprise. “Originally the Producers wanted me to do a Katy Perry song, but……this coming November will mark the 30th anniversary of the day my boys and I lost our beloved Freddie. And…….being there the day he recorded this song in only one take. I felt in my soul that I had to do this for him. To give him a grand performance because due to this covid Queen and I aren’t touring till we feel it’s safe to start touring again, like many artists are. So I really wanted to honor Freddie with a performance that I hope did him proud.”

“Well you did just that.” Jenny told me.

“Thank you. And I’m glad you managed to catch that Jenny, you truly are the Masked Singer detective.” She pointed out to me and that’s when last season’s winner LeAnne said.

“I grew up listening, to both you and Queen. And—I can say for a fact that you definitely did Freddie Mercury proud. And it’s good that you and the remaining members of Queen continue his legacy. Sure it’s not the same as it was before but you don’t refer to him just in the past. But in the present.”

“Thank you LeAnne dear.” I thanked her as I blew her a quick kiss.

“I just gotta say (Y/n). You absolutely crushed the choreography with Janet’s song for your first performance as well as your wrecking ball routine. I think those were my favorite performances of yours, will we expect any of that once you start your solo tours back up?” Nicole asked me.  I laughed along with the audience.

“You never know.”

“Well it has truly been an honor to have you on our show. Now then ladies and gentlemen, to sing for us one last time give it up. For the artist formerly known as the Lioness, the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline!” the audience applauded and I sung “The Show must go on” one final time for the audience.  Putting my heart and soul into the lyrics before finally belting out that last note in a different key before punching my fist into the air and sending a kiss towards the heavens for Freddie.

After the show all ended and a few days passed by, I did a livestream on my Instagram as well as my Youtube page telling my fans that I was indeed the Lioness and just talking about my experience on the show. Of course Bri, Rog and Adam blew up my phone with calls/texts/DM’s (mostly Adam. Bri and Rog still don’t quite get DM’s) telling me why I lied and did that show in the first place.

I gave them my straight answer that I wanted to have a bit of fun and do some type of performance and show the audience a whole new side of me when it came to performing.

I was just about to go to bed after bidding Georgie goodnight (he had to work a late nightshift tonight) when my phone rang. I picked it up to see it was an unknown number from London.  Curiously, I pressed the answer button and said.

“Hello?”

‘Sister dear.’ My heart stopped and I sat down on the bed.

“Brother mine?” I choked out.

‘Hey love. It’s uhh—been awhile, hadn’t it?’

“Try 20 years yah rotter.” I teased as we both softly chuckled. “What—how…..”

‘Laura sent me a video of you on the Masked Singer. The American one. You were beautiful up there.’ I placed my hand over my heart. ‘Although I do wish you had won. That—boy band person couldn’t hold a candle to you.’

“Oi now, Nick Lachey did just as well as I did.” I softly lectured him.

‘Well I still feel like you should’ve won.’ I smiled solemnly.

“Was it just because of the Masked Singer that you wanted to call me?”

‘That and…..’ he trailed off.  I lay against my bed and softly spoke to him.

“Deacy?”

‘I…….’ he sighed heavily. ‘I know I haven’t been the best at keeping contact.’

“John.” For the first time since……probably back when I was an intern for Miami all the way back in the autumn of 1980, I called him by his first name (unless I referred to him him by his full name did I call him John, most of the time it was Deacy).  “I get it. Plus my schedule has been quite hectic. And you—you’ve been busy yourself. After all Queen would’ve fallen decades ago without your financial brain.” We both shared another laugh.

From then one we talked pretty much the entire night up until it was almost 6am my time before we finally said our goodbyes. It was sweet to hear from him once again after so long.  Now whether or not I’ll ever hear from him again, I don’t know.

But at least I know my Brother Mine is still keeping his eye out for me, in one way or another.

[wholesomemendes]

I have a request, if you’re taking them atm! Tour is still going and Alessia is still the opening act, so Shawn, Brian, Connor, Alessia, Olivia, and Y/N hang out in their gang just having fun, being their goofy selves. Brian and Connor know about Shawn liking Y/N and Alessia and Liv know about Y/n liking Shawn. They set them up and go form there? Ily and your stories and make sure you’re staying safe! xx

Author’s Note: I am so sorry this took so long, I’ve been working on it for way too long! But this is 4.7k of personal assistant fluff and I hope you enjoy it! As always please reblog and tell me what you think!

“Thank you, Glasgow!” Screams echoed out from every corner, energy bouncing off the walls as Alessia ended her set and ran off the stage. You and Liv sprinted your way backstage from where you were watching her on the side, maneuvering through all of the backstage crew in order to reach Alessia before her after show high had calmed down. Upon spotting the two of you, a wide smile formed on her face and she began running in your direction to meet you halfway. 

“That. Was. Incredible!” you screamed as she wrapped you both in a bone crushing hug.

“I know right! The crowd is so loud, I can’t even imagine what they’ll be like for Shawn,” Alessia replied with a smile, still trying to catch her breath from her performance.

“Don’t sell yourself short, they’ll probably be quieter for him. Man's looks can only take him so far.”

The two girls laughed at your light hearted joke before Liv piped up, “Better watch it Y/n, just cause you’re his assistant doesn’t mean he’s gonna give you a free pass at hurting his ego.”

“Nah, he knows I adore him, probably give him too much praise. Gotta make sure I don’t blow up his head too big,” you teased, joining in the girls giggles, “Speaking of Shawn, I better go find him before he goes out. I’m kinda slacking at my job right now.”

“Go, go, can’t leave your lover boy hanging,” Alessia lightly pushed you in the direction of his dressing room, knowing you hated when the girls teased you about your not so secret crush on your boss.

“I hate you!”

“I love you too!”

________________

“Does anyone know where Y/n is? She's usually back here by now...” Shawn was pacing around his dressing room anxiously while poor Tiff was attempting to put on the final touches of his outfit.

“I bet she’s on her way here right now, Alessia’s set just ended,” she tried to console him, “Now stand still and let me do my job.”

“I’m sorry I’m just worried, I haven’t seen her much today and I’m worried she’s not coming back here before I go on.”

“Shawn, she always comes back...” Tiff was interrupted by two short knocks on the door and your beautiful voice soothing the poor boy’s worries, “Shawn, can I come in?”

He didn’t even bother answering, instead choosing to rip the door open and pull you into his embrace, burying his face into your shoulder, “I thought you weren’t gonna come back.”

“What are you talking about, big guy? I always check up on you,” you giggled at his antics, feeling his breath slowly even out as he breathed in your signature scent. 

He pulled his face out from your shirt to look at you, the panic in them still evident, “You’re usually back here by now and I don’t know, I haven’t seen you much today and I was worried and...”

“Hey rockstar, deep breaths,” you smiled up at him with the loving gaze that was reserved just for him and took his face in your hands, relishing in the way he leaned into your touch, “I’m always gonna check on you before your show. It’s tradition...and my job but that’s a completely different topic. Besides, the reason you haven’t seen me around today is because I’ve been busy taking care of all the necessary business surrounding a certain pop star.” You poked his chest at your last sentence, earning a sincere chuckle to escape his lips for the first time in a few hours. 

The moment was interrupted by Tiff tapping Shawn’s shoulder lightly, “I hate to break this up, but you need to get dressed.”

Pushing Shawn away towards Tiff, you took a seat on the couch of the dressing room, watching as he covered up his muscular arms with an unbuttoned, army green short-sleeve shirt. You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the view of him in a white wife-beater tank, but you knew it would make an appearance again mid way through the show tonight. You made yourself busy by looking through your twitter feed, liking some of the posts from Shawn’s fans about the concert tonight. “Finished!” Tiff exclaimed excitedly, brushing out the fabric on his shoulders as Shawn fiddled with the array of rings on his fingers.

He tilted his head to look at you through his eyelashes, a smirk forming on his face when he saw your eyes do a quick glance up and down his body. Turning his head back to look at his hands, he prayed you couldn’t see the blush forming on his face from your looks as you were the only person that had that effect on him. He got thousands of compliments from beautiful girls every day, but they never meant as much to him as they did when you said them. It seemed painfully obvious to everyone around him that he was crushing hard on you, well at least that’s what the guys made it seem like. In reality, only Brian and Conner knew after they confronted a drunk Shawn one night who immediately spilled his feelings. That’s the issue with drunk Shawn, he was very, very emotional. Not in a bad way, unless you count sharing everything you feel towards your personal assistant before even she knows bad. 

“Shawn, did you remember to take your medicine?” you asked softly as Tiff left the room, meeting his eyes while he walked closer to where you were seated on the couch. You knew he hated other people knowing about his medication even if it wasn’t serious, he just didn’t feel the need to let people know. So even though you made it a point to remind him just in case he happened to forget, you always made sure to do it in privacy with the most gentle voice.

He cleared his throat, scratching nervously behind his neck, “I, um...I’m actually not taking it tonight.” This medicine wasn’t extreme by any means, it simply slowed his heart rate down so he could be calm on stage with his anxiety. But nevertheless it was medicine and for him to simply not take it tonight was a big deal whether he acted like it was or not.

Your eyes went wide, staring up at him where he had made his way between your legs on the couch as he fiddled with his fingers, refusing to meet your eyes. “Oh...that-that’s great, Shawn. Wh-Why aren’t you taking it?”

He sighed, making his way to sit next to you and laid down with his head in your lap. You carded your fingers through his long curls, trying your hardest to make sure you’d be able to easily style them again before he went on. “I don’t want to rely on medicine anymore. I get it’s not that big of a deal and a lot of artists use this type, but I don’t want to feel like I can’t perform without it. I need to do this for myself, to get over this. I talked to Andrew and Jocelyne before I made the decision, but I had already made up my mind.” A quiet moan escaped his plush lips when you lightly massaged a spot on his head as you listened intently, wishing nothing more than to take all his pain away.

“I’m proud of you,” he turned his head to look up at you as you spoke, hand coming to rest on his cheek that was once in his curls, “I really am.”

He placed his large hand over yours, lightly kissing the inside of your palm, “Thank you, it means a lot coming from you.” Your heart swelled three sizes at his words and the look in his eyes was indescribable. Deep down in your heart wanted to believe it was love, but the rational part of your brain quickly dismissed the thoughts. “Hey, I, um, I’ve wanted to talk to you abou-” “Shawn! You’re on in 15!” One of the backstage crew followed by three sharp knocks interrupted Shawn’s thoughts and he stood up with a huff, heading towards the mirror to fix his hair before turning towards the door. “You coming?”

“Of course.” You followed him out the door where he proceeded to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pressing you closer to him as you walked.

“Good, need you close tonight. Got a lot more nerves this time around.”

________________

“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” Shawn mumbled to himself as the two of you were sitting under the stage. You could practically feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of him while you waited for his cue to run up those stairs. “I can do this, I can do this, I can…”

“Shawn, look at me,” you took his face into your small hands, cupping his cheeks with your palms as he stared back at you with wide doe-like eyes. It didn’t matter if it was almost pitch black under there, you could see the fear inside of those eyes that usually held so much joy. “You’re going to kill it out there rockstar and you don’t need any medicine to do that.” He leaned into your touch, hanging onto every last word you were saying. “That medicine isn’t what makes you a performer, it’s what’s in here-” you released one hand from his face to poke at his racing heart beneath his chest “-that gives you talent. You’re Shawn Mendes and if that doesn’t do it for you, I don’t know what will. Because the Shawn I know is the most talented, caring, and heartfelt man I’ve ever met, and to say I was him would be the biggest honor.” You could see his tears threatening to fall out of his eyes at your words, causing you to reach up and brush them away, “Now there’s an arena filled with people who love every single inch of you, so go out there and show them what you got.” 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he sighed, heart feeling lighter than it ever has. He swore you must be a witch because of the magic you had over him, but his brain told him it was the grip you had on his heart that allowed you to have this effect on him. 

“Good thing you’ll never have to.” With that he blew you a kiss, running up the stairs to be met with the deafening screams of thousands of fans.

________________

The screaming was insane as Shawn bounded off the stage, energy coursing through his veins. Alessia and Liv stood by your side, surrounded by people on your left and right all waiting to congratulate Shawn. Connor ran behind him, capturing the moment before clapping Shawn on the shoulder, yelling something about how amazing the crowd was over their screams. Suddenly, Shawn’s eyes locked with yours, his smile somehow growing wider as he made his way towards you. His face faltered for a moment when Andrew and some of the backstage members surrounded him, congratulating him on the show while his eyes fought to stay on you. He thanked them all profusely, trying his best to focus on them instead of where you were standing next to some of his best friends.

Once he got through the rest of the crew, he made his way over to you, letting out a sigh of relief when his arms were finally wrapped around you and his head was rested in the crook of your neck. “I did it,” he mumbled into your neck, “I did the show without it.”

Your heart was filled with so much pride and excitement for him that your eyes started to well up with tears while you squeezed your arms tighter around him, “I always knew you could do it. I’m so so proud of you, Shawn.” 

“I couldn’t do it without you.” He squeezed your body one last time before Brian was clapping him on the shoulder, turning his attention away from you. Shawn gave a final hug to Alessia and Liv, although it was much shorter and less intimate than the one he gave you, then followed Andrew’s orders to meet with some fans that were backstage. You followed behind him, handing him a water bottle when he began to cough, knowing that after every show his voice typically became extremely raw. He blew you one of his famous kisses as a thank you, causing your cheeks to heat up much to your dismay. Alessia was long gone, having gone back to her dressing room, and you were incredibly thankful that there was no one around to tease you about your inappropriate crush on your boss. Once pictures were done you followed Shawn back to his own dressing room, ready to go sleep the night away in your hotel room.

“That show was ecstatic! I don’t know if it’s just because I didn’t take my medicine, but the energy just felt so good!” Shawn was smiling from ear to ear as he pulled his sweat-filled tank top over his head, throwing it on the floor for you to inevitably pick up even if he didn’t intend for you to do so. 

“No, that crowd was definitely off the walls. Alessia said the same thing when she came off,” you told him, making your way to sit on the couch. 

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower and then we can head out.”

“Sounds like a plan. I can only imagine you’re excited to get back to the hotel, bet tonight’s show was more tiring than usual.”

“We’re not going back to the hotel,” he turned to you with a confused look on his face, bare chest on full display making your heart flutter, “Didn’t Alessia or Liv tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“You know what they probably just thought I’d tell you. Brian, Connor, Alessia, Liv, and the two of us are going exploring. We don’t have another show for like two days or something…”

“Three days.”

“You know what I meant, but that means we have time to explore tonight and rest tomorrow.”

“Don’t you just want to go to sleep?” 

Shawn strolled over to where you were sitting, leaning over you to place his hands on the couch behind you. His face was inches from yours and you couldn’t help the flush that came over your cheeks from his bare skin being in such close proximity. “Sleep can wait. Now you-” he tapped the tip of your nose- “are going to find one of my sweatshirts in my bags because there’s no way you’re going out in that you’ll freeze, and I’m going to shower. Then we’re going to go exploring with our friends because sleep is for the week and we’re not weak.”

“You say that now, but your exhaustion tomorrow will say differently,” you called out as he pushed himself off the couch to head towards the shower.

“Good thing I have someone that will let me sleep on their lap during the bus ride!” You let out a huff of air, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see from where he was already in the bathroom. Making your way over to his bags, you began packing up his clothes from earlier along with the miscellaneous objects that were strewn around the room.  You followed his request from earlier, grabbing his youth hoodie that you loved so much and throwing it over your light sweater for the arena. Immediately your body was filled with warmth, it truly was one of his warmest sweatshirts, and your nose was filled with his scent, not helping your racing heart. The night had barely started, but you had a feeling that your emotions were going to get you in trouble later on.

________________

“There is no way you can eat that entire churro in one bite, I refuse to believe it.” The six of you had only been out about 15 minutes before Brian decided he was already hungry and needed one of the churros from the stand just outside of the hotel. It had been decided that you would stop at the hotel with the rest of the crew to drop everything off before you would be able to explore around the city, which still wasn’t completely accepted by Andrew. 

“Oh really? Bring it on Baby Brash, how much are we betting?” Brian countered, the foot long churro already paid for and in his hand.

“Two dollars.”

“Ten.”

“Five.”

“Deal.” 

“You don’t think he’s really gonna do it, do you?” you whispered to Shawn, not wanting Brian to hear you and force you to join the bet.

“I don’t know, five dollars is five dollars. Brian’s not gonna give up that easily,” he whispered back, hands in his pockets as he watched Brian aggressively eat the poor churro. 

Two minutes later, Brian was five dollars richer and your small group was admiring the architecture of the city. You had taken more candid photos than you could count, with a new selfie of you and Shawn as your lock screen, a result of him hacking into your phone claiming this picture of you with both of your tongues out and cheeks squished together was the best photo the two of you had. Now you, Alessia, and Liv were currently sitting on the grass, watching as the boys attempted to climb up a structure on a playground they found. As they say, boys will be boys and even if they were all considered adults now, they were still boys through and through. “So when are you going to tell him you’re in love with him?” 

“What?!” you asked, eyes wide as you turned to Alessia, “What-what are you talking about?”

“Come on, you act like we don’t know about your crush on Shawn. You’ve literally told us before.”

“First of all, yes I have a crush on him, but I’m not in love with him! That’s crazy. And two, he’s my boss and he’s never going to know.” 

“Honey, have you seen the way you look at him? You’re in love, stop lying to yourself,” Liv reasoned, Alessia nodding her head in agreement next to her, “And also who cares if he’s your boss? The two of you practically act like a couple half the time, he probably feels the same way.”

“But you don’t know that,” you whined, throwing your head back in frustration, “He’s so kind to everyone, that’s just how he is.”

“You know he acts differently around you, he doesn’t do half the things he does with you around the rest of his friends,” Alessia tried to convince you, but you weren’t having it.

“No he doesn’t, you guys are just trying to convince yourself that my feelings aren’t one sided.”

“Whatever you say,” Liv rolled her eyes playfully at you, earning a light swat in the shoulder from you as you laughed.

________________

“When are you gonna tell her you’re in love with her?” Meanwhile, the three boys had successfully climbed to the top of the structure and were having their own soul discovering conversation.

“Bro, what are you talking about?” Shawn stuttered, staring at Brian who was smirking in his direction.

“You know, Y/n? The girl you’re literally drooling over and get hearts in your eyes anytime you look at her?” 

Shawn’s cheeks began to heat up immediately, his head dropping to hide his lovesick smile, “I don’t get heart eyes.”

“Yeah you do, man, I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything about how in love you are with her,” Connor chimed in, causing Shawn’s face to heat up even more.

“I like her, I obviously do, but I’m not in love with her. She’s one of my best friends, I’m not going to risk that to tell her about a silly little crush.”

“It’s obviously not a silly little crush if you act like a lovesick puppy around her.”

“I don’t act like a lovesick puppy around her!”

“Yeah, you do,” Connor snorted, trying to hide it with a cough.

“See, even Baby Brash sees it and he wouldn’t know love if it hit him in the face.”

Connor turned towards Brian, mouth wide open, “Hey, I know love.”

“Oh yeah?” Brian challenged, raising one of his eyebrows, “When was the last time you were in love?”

Connor stayed quiet, refusing to make eye contact with anything but the ground as he bit his lip in denial. “That’s what I thought, now Shawn you need to make a move!” 

“No,” Shawn shook his head, refusing to acknowledge his brain that was screaming love, “I’m not in love.” 

“Whatever you say.”

________________

“Ok everyone know the rules?” 

“What rules? It’s just first duo to get to the gazebo first wins,” you argued, watching as Connor shrugged his shoulders innocently. Currently you were on Shawn’s back as he held you like you weighed a feather, which you knew was far from the truth. Alessia was waiting to get on Brian’s back while Liv and Connor stood on the side, ready to run alongside the two pairs to judge who reached it first. You were convinced that with Shawn’s long legs you would win, but Brian was the one to suggest the race and he was talking a lot of smack. 

“If you know the rules so well then we should just start,” Liv pointed out, shooting a knowing look at Alessia as she jumped onto Brian’s back.

“Everyone ready? Three...Two...One...Go!” You squealed as Shawn took off with you holding on for dear life, laughing as he used his long leds to get an advantage. He laughed when you held on tighter, burying your face in his neck and fearing that he was going to drop you. You could hear the faint voices of Brian and Alessia behind you, convincing you that Shawn was well in the lead as the gazebo was only a few more feet in front of you. 

“We won!” he exclaimed breathlessly, releasing his grasp on your legs to let you slide off his back.

“Take that...Brian?” your voice trailed off as you looked around, not seeing the rest of your friends anywhere in sight. The two of you couldn’t even make out their figures in the area you left them, leaving the two of you more confused than ever, “Where... where did they go?”

“I don’t know, I swore they were right behind us…” Shawn reached into his pocket, silently cursing his friends when he saw the text from Brian on his screen:

Go get ‘em loverboy;)

“I think they left us here,” he sighed, leaning against the railing of the gazebo.

“Why would they do that?”

“Beats me.” You turned to face him and with the moonlight reflecting on your face, he swore you had never looked more angelic. 

“So what are we supposed to do? Call them, wait for them?” You shivered a bit when the wind began to pick up, Shawn immediately going into what one could only call protective boyfriend mode even if he had never admitted his feelings to you. 

“Come here, you’re cold.” He opened his arms up to you and you immediately cuddled into his warmth, the man was a walking heating furnace.

“How are you always so warm?” you mumbled into his sweatshirt as he rubbed circles onto your back.

“Don’t know, but it sure comes in handy when someone is always cold.” You nodded against his chest and he prayed that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating from you being so close to him, “What do you say we just walk around for a bit and if we don’t see them, we just head back to the hotel?” Not knowing what else to do you agreed, unwillingly peeling yourself away from his warmth and taking his outstretched hand in yours. His large hand engulfed yours, but you couldn’t help thinking about how natural it felt to have his hand in yours. The two of you walked around for what felt like hours through the city, laughing and smiling so much that your cheeks were beginning to hurt. 

As the two of you began to head towards the hotel, you stumbled upon an older woman and who you assumed was her husband taking a nighttime stroll along the street you were on. “You two make such a cute couple!” The older lady gushed as you got closer to the two of them, “Do you remember when that was us, Hank?”

“Of course I do, honey,” the man responded, “I still love you just as much as I did back then. Don’t lose that you two.”

The two of you blushed, bashful smiles on your faces at the couples words. “Thank you,” Shawn spoke up, sending a kind smile to the elderly pair, “We promise we won’t.”

“Good, good. Have a nice night!” 

“You too!” You both called out, sending a friendly wave in their direction as they walked away. You both walked in silence for a couple minutes processing their words, you biting your lip as your nerves bubbled in your chest, “Do we really look like a couple?”

Shawn stopped walking, pulling you with him so your chest was facing his. “I mean, sometimes we kinda act like one,” he told you sincerely, eyes dropping down to his feet as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Have you ever thought about it?” you asked quietly, your brain screaming at you for your foolishness while your heart beated proudly.

“About what? Us as a couple?”

“Yeah.”

“You want my honest answer?” He looked you in the eyes, grabbing both of your hands and squeezing them lightly while you nodded, fear pooling in your eyes, “All the time.”

“You do?”

“How could I not?” he chuckled , lifting one of your hands to rest over his beating heart, “You feel how fast you make my heart beat? You’re the only one it does that for.”

You lifted his free hand to place over your own heart, letting him feel the rapid tempo, “Mine does the same for you, it always has.”

“Do you want to try this…this us? Our friends tell us we act like a couple anyways?” 

You bit your lip slightly, a playful smirk on your face as you looked up at him through your lashes, “Shawn Mendes...are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” he teased, hands coming to rest on your hips while yours came to his chest, “If I was, what would your answer be?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to ask my boss if he’s ok with me dating a coworker. So what does he say?”

“He says yes for sure.”

“Then it’s a yes from me.” Shawn wasted no time connecting your lips to his, pulling your body closer to his to eliminate any more space. No amount of dreaming could have prepared you for how his lips felt on yours, they were so soft and your whole body felt aflame from the passion he was putting into the kiss. You sighed when you felt his tongue swipe ever so gently against your bottom lip, immediately opening your mouth earning a moan of satisfaction from him when his tongue finally met yours. You were so consumed by him you weren’t even worried about how paparazzi could be nearby or if a fan saw you and took a picture, all you could think about was Shawn, Shawn, Shawn. 

“I’m in love with you,” he mumbled between kisses, not wanting to part from your lips for even a second, “I’ve been in love with you so long I can’t remember not loving you.”

“I’ve always loved you too, Shawn. I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one that’s dreamed about you,” and as he continued to kiss you in the middle of the city, the moon shined down on the scene, the stars admiring the love that was only set to grow.

[greekowl87]

Fic: Watching in the Shadows

A/N: I’ve had difficulty bringing myself to write anything since October. I had some personal issues to work through regarding my anxiety and life. I’m still trying to work through it right now but I managed to cobble this together over the past month. This isn’t my best work and I’ve probably done something like this before (another fic that was a post-ep of FTF), but I at least managed to write something. Sorry. If you've gotten this far, thanks again for taking the time to look it over.

Also, no beta. Is AO3 more your thing, you can read this here

Tagging @today-in-fic @improlificinsarcasm @suitablyaggrieved @baronessblixen

The nightmares had started shortly after Mulder’s one-in-a-million successful rescue and their daring seascape from Antarctica. Somehow, they had made it with some minor scrapes, bruising, and some frostbite. They came back to D.C. and it was questionable whether they still had jobs or not. The x-files had been burnt in a flash of lost hopes and dreams. Only the ashes were left, smeared by the boots of the notorious Them.

After their latest jaunt in Arizona chasing more would be aliens exploding from human chests and poor Gibson Praise, Scully wondered if God was trying to take a cue from James Cameron. That ended roughly too. In addition to the nightmares she refused to acknowledge, the added insecurity of Diana Fowley was like a harbinger of the future.

Scully twisted in bed, her cotton sheets coiling around her like a python. It was suffocating. She was in that weird twilight of waking and still traipsing through a dream. Those that said you didn’t dream of color were wrong. She remembered flashes of being locked in that tube with that thing shoved down her throat. The cold that had eaten into her bones and down to her core, making her feel brittle. She remembered seeing those gelatinous bodies in Texas and remembered her fear. That would be her. That would be her fate.

Of course, she wouldn’t tell Mulder. Why would he believe her anyway? His thoughts were up in the clouds trying to get their work back. Scully finally woke up gasping. Her hand clutched her chest to feel her racing heart, mentally calming herself that nothing had exploded out of her chest. Her fingers touched the tiny gold cross and she squeezed it so hard so it would be indented in her finger pads.

“I’m alive,” she whispered to the shadows in the room. “I’m alive.”

The fragments of memory were still there, just like something you couldn’t see out from the corner of your eye but you knew it was there. She glanced at the alarm clock. 4:01 am. It was a Saturday so she would not have gone to work. She could afford to sleep. But was she going to?

During the past six years, she did not get nightmares. Not normally anyway. There were a few after Pfaster and then with her cancer. Without ignoring the science...damn her own words. She turned out the bedside lamp and got out of bed. Without really thinking (it was still night in her opinion), she went to her kitchen and filled her teapot. As she tried to decide what tea to drink, she heard a light knocking on her door.

There would only be one person who would knock on her door this early (or late).

Scully opened it without ceremony, replying, “The last time you came to my door, you were drunk and dragged me across the country. It’s Saturday and I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked tired, worse than usual. The bags under his eyes indicated something much worse. He read her unspoken question. “I haven’t slept in over 24 hours, Scully. I’m not planning on anything. I just didn’t know where else to go.”

He knew what just to say to pull at her heartstrings. She took his hand and pulled him into her apartment, locking the door behind her. “I can’t either.”

“Nightmares?”

The word was effortless, showing just how well he knew her. “Something like that. I was about to make tea. Do you want some?”

“Do you have anything stronger?”

“How about we settle in the middle? A hot toddy? You can stay here in the meantime.”

“What? You’re not going to kick out self-deprecating and self-pitying Spooky Mulder?”

“Of course not,” she said. “Is that even a question?”

She selected two bags of Chai tea with two mugs. She went to another cupboard and stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach a rarely used bottle. In three easy strides, Mulder was behind her. “The rum?”

She nodded and felt him press behind her, easily getting the bottle. “Grog?”

She chuckled. “Not quite. Hot toddy. I think it might be better for helping get us back to sleep.”

“A sleepover?”

“A sleepover,” she chuckled. This is how she liked her Mulder and she felt those insecure thoughts replaced with a warmth that she had come to know. “Maybe I’ll let you even play twister.”

“Scully,” he chuckled.

“Go make yourself comfortable. I’ll be there in a second.”

She heard him kick off his shoes and take off his leather jacket, indicating he had no plans to leave anytime soon. Scully was fine with this. He flipped on her television, keeping the volume low. She laughed when she saw James Cameron’s ‘Alien’ come on and Mulder looked at her funny. “What?”

“I...it’ll sound stupid…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Tell me,” he encouraged.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping since Antarctica.” She nodded towards the television. “My nightmares. I wonder if James Cameron is playing a role. I keep seeing myself back on that ship. And after...the face-hugger.” She motioned to her chest. “Bursting out in all the bloody glory.”

“But it didn’t, Scully. It didn’t.”

“Still doesn’t stop the nightmares.” She first added generous amounts of the spiced rum and then the Chai tea. “I was awake and aware when I was in that tube. Not all the time but I was awake. I remember. I remember the coldness...” She shook her head and her voice faded.

Mulder nodded gently. “I get the impression that you don’t want me to talk about the subject.”

“I don’t want to fight, Mulder. I don’t want to fight about the report, the work, or Fowley right now. I’m tired.” She rubbed her eyes. “Nor do I want to scold you on what happened in the Bermuda Triangle. We both know how stupid that was.”

Mulder was quiet. “I do trust your judgment, I do trust you. Without you...I probably would have been stuck in 1939 with no way home.”

“Mulder.”

“I do trust you,” he repeated, with more certainty. “More than anything.”

Scully nodded, satisfied with his response. She took the two mugs and walked them over. “So,” she said, “you had to pick Alien after I told you God is consulting with James Cameron?”

“Run of the luck. Do you want me to change it?”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

Mulder sipped the hot toddy, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “You didn’t go light.”

“No, but it works well together. Don’t you agree?”

“Very good.”

“So, Scully, since we’re having a sleepover, wanna play truth or dare?”

“Excuse me?”

“Truth or dare?” He smirked.

She was tired. Maybe her brain wasn’t working correctly. Maybe the lack of sleep had something to do with it. She decided to indulge him this time. “Truth.”

“Okay,” he paused. “What was your nightmare about?”

“Very smooth and not at all obvious.” He shrugged, sipped the hot beverage, and watched her. She sighed. “What could have been if you had not gotten to me in time when they took me.” She recognized that look and she hated it. “Stop profiling me.”

“I’m not.” He looked almost insulted. “I was just hoping to hear more. But it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth. Ask your question, Scully so we both can get it over it.”

The sharpness in his voice took her off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked you first.”

“Truth. No. Fact. I do love you.”

“I…” She felt panic rise in her chest. No. No, no, no. “Mulder…” He held his hand up and she grabbed it, shooing it away. This was getting out of hand. “Not like this. Quit messing with me, Mulder.”

She got up quickly and downed the scalding liquid. She winced. “I’m not.”

“It’s not funny,” she said again in warning. “Stop messing with me. This entire game is stupid. Why did I even let you talk me into this?”

Scully remembered how her mom used to force Melissa to include Scully in her sleepovers. Even though there were only two years between her and Missy, Scully always felt like the odd one out. Nerdy Dana who always had her nose buried in a science book. Why don’t you marry Einstein they would tease. As much as she loved her sister, that game left nothing but bitter memories for her.

Mulder frowned, surprised by her sudden reaction. He didn’t know why the words fumbled out of his mouth the way they did. But now that it had happened, he couldn’t see a reason why not. He watched her set the forgotten drink on the kitchen table and pace.

“Scully.”

“Why did you come here? Why did you come here, Mulder?” She wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe she was caught in the throes of another nightmare. “Answer me!”

“Do you want me to leave, Scully?” He asked. “If that’s what you want, I have no problem doing that.”

“I didn’t say that. Stop twisting my words.”

“Then come back here and sit down.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she bit her lip and nodded. She sat at the opposite end of the couch. Mulder suddenly felt the dynamic shift between them and it was like a game of chess. “For the record, I do not feel comfortable about this.”

“Noted. Now, what did you dream about?”

“The first time I was abducted, there was some trauma there. Bits and pieces. But this time was different. I dream that I die. You don’t come. That thing explodes out of me like those crime scene photos. I performed the autopsy on that body and saw what happened. That was going to become me.

“And I die to expect during all this, I am alive and I feel every sensation. I don’t know what is worse: knowing that I almost died from the virus or the chip in my neck.” Scully found herself confessing fears that she had managed to repress for the past year. “Ruskin Dam. Skyline Mountain. The cancer. And now this same Earth-based virus that we also found in Gibson Praise. What do you think it means, Mulder? It terrifies me.”

Mulder fumbled over her words in his mind. Where does he even begin? “I came here because I didn’t know where else to go. The bar…” He snorted with displeasure. “After what happened in Dallas, I was devastated. After almost losing you, well, let’s just say I got my priorities straight.”

“Priorities.”

What the hell was going on between them? “What are we doing here, Mulder?”

“What do you mean?”

“This. You come over at 4 am. Make me confess my soul.”

“It is Saturday so it’s not like we have to work.”

“We may not even have jobs.”

He held up a finger. “Prohibition period, remember? We do have jobs. We just to get to do background checks and chase shit around the country.”

“I don’t see what’s so great about it.”

“I have you. You’re still here with me. She wasn’t.”

“She?”

“Diana.”

Scully frowned at the mere mention of the name. “I still don’t see why you trust her or what you see.”

“She was there when I found the x-files. But who is here now, where she could still have a promising career in medicine despite the fact most of her patients are dead?”

“Except for one.”

Mulder smiled. “You’re still here. After all this, after all that we’ve been through. You’re the one I trust the most.” He sighed and sipped the hot toddy. “I still trust her because how could I not, Scully? But she’s not the one I went to at four am.”

She remembered going to him at the reflection pool at twilight, taking his hand, a wordless promise to each other. “Touché.” She relaxed. “Look, I’m sure you didn’t mean that…”

“I did.”

Shit. “Let’s put a pin in that thought,” she said quickly. Mulder sat his mug on her coffee table. “Coaster.”

He grabbed two and slid them across her oak coffee table. “Why is it so hard to wrap your mind around it?”

“Well,” she began, struggling to find her voice. “There’s different types of love. You love me like a friend, a sister, a comrade…”

“And then are is also the type between…”

He said this as she was trying to put her mug on the table but, uncharacteristically, the mug fumbled, spilling all over the table. “Shit.” The hot tea burned her hands and Mulder was already rushing back into her kitchen, grabbing towels and the ice pack. “Mulder…”

“I got it.”

He quickly cleaned up the mess and Scully took the extra towels. She wiped the mess off her hands and frowned at the red swelling starting on her knuckles. Mulder wrapped the ice pack in another towel and took her hands. “Mulder.”

“I gotcha, Scully.”

“Mulder, I’m fine.”

“Will you just let me?” The sharpness of his voice silenced her as he took her hands gently and held the ice pack against it. “I know you want to be this badass FBI agent…”

“Want to?”

“I know you are a big, badass FBI agent. Just let me for once?”

“Fine.”

They sat in silence as Mulder held the ice pack over the top of her hands. She cleared her throat. “I meant what I said, Scully. I do love you.”

She scoffed. “I’m sure.”

“You aren’t a replacement.”

Scully shook her head, refusing to believe him. “You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Twist words.” She tried to pull her hands away from him without success. “Mulder, let me go.”

She felt Mulder squeeze her fingers tighter. “No.” He was staring at her. Those goddamn— “Look at me, Scully.”

Why did she feel tears in her eyes? Her eyes did feel dry from lack of sleep. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m sick of the lies.” She rested her chin on her chest. “I’m tired of the smoke and shadows. For once, I just want someone to tell me the truth and mean it.”

Mulder sighed. She winced hearing it. “What do you want me to do, Scully?”

“Tell me the truth.” She looked

“I am.” He removed the ice pack and kissed her knuckles. “I love you. You aren’t a replacement. Nothing could replace you.”

“Then what am I to you?”

“You’re Scully.” He looked at her as if that was even a question. “When it came to Samantha, I was able to live with it. I have for 27 years. But when I lost you on Skyline mountain…” Mulder put the ice pack back on her knuckles. “I couldn’t...I didn’t know what to do. I was filled with such rage. I almost killed Duane Barry. The months during your absence, I didn’t do so well.”

Scully watched him. “You rarely talk about it.”

“Because there isn’t too much to say. I took a couple of profiling cases. Coming back to the basement office—it didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t the same.” He nodded to the small gold cross on her neck. “I wore your cross when you were gone.”

She remained quiet.

He snorted derision and looked down at their hands. “It’s stupid. There was a point, right after you came back, that X wanted me to just take a plane ticket and leave you and forget everything. You. The x-files. The shadowy men without names. Everything.” He adjusted the ice pack. “And maybe, at one time I would, but not when it came to you.”

“Do you know why seeing run off with Agent Fowley hurt me?”

“Why?”

“It’s our work,” she specified, emphasizing the word ‘our.’ “She comes out of the woodwork and, all of the sudden, I take the backseat on this. I thought it was my science that kept you honest, Mulder.”

“Your science does,” he quickly caught himself, “quit twisting my words.”

“I’m not. My hands are fine, Mulder.”

“I guess they are.” He pulled back the ice and Scully flexed her numb hands. “Do you want another cup of tea?”

“Yes, please.”

“I left you with Gibson because I know he would be safer with you rather than Diana.”

“Yet, I still lost him.”

“No. He was at the nuclear facility. I have a hunch he is safe.” Mulder looked over his shoulder. “How generous, Special Agent Doctor?”

“Shut up. Make it a generous one.”

Mulder smiled and called, “Did you know I was a bartender for a couple of months in Oxford?” Scully’s mind was trying to reel with everything that was happening. But she forced her insecurities into the backseat and let Mulder take the lead. He frowned “If I were just here for something else, we’d be halfway across the country right now.”

“I don’t know if that is a good or bad thing, Mulder.” Scully watched the tv, flinching at a particularly gory scene with a face hugger. “Do you have nightmares?”

“Hm?” Mulder shrugged with his back to her. “Sometimes. That’s one of the reasons why I don’t sleep.”

Scully was quiet as Mulder returned to her with a new mug of hot Chai tea. She took it and sipped the mug. “Good. Thank you.”

“And for the record, Scully, the nightmares aren’t just of Samantha. It’s you too.”

She closed her eyes, annoyed with this vein of conversation. “Is that why you decided to profess your undying love?”

“I thought it was a good moment. But that’s not all of it.” Mulder rejoined her on the couch. “Are you ready to talk about that?”

“I still think you’re full of shit.”

He laughed and sipped his hot toddy. “That’s why my eyes are brown.”

“Hazel.”

“I’m only half full of shit then.”

Scully snorted into her drink. “I honestly don’t know what to believe.”

“I want to believe,” Mulder teased in a fake E.T. voice. She snickered playfully and slapped his thighs. “See? Made you smile. Careful. It might stay that way, Scully.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay,” he said. He checked his watch. “It is almost 4:30 am, Agent Scully. Your guest is intoxicated. What are you going to do?”

“I thought we were having a sleepover?”

“Did I say that?”

“You’re words, not mine.”

“At least take off your shoes.”

She heard Mulder kick them off and he grabbed the remote. He changed the tv to the Sports Channel. After seeing raise a questioning eyebrow, he shrugged. “So, do you watch Sports Center or a movie to fall asleep to?”

“What happened to Truth or Dare?”

“Okay, truth, or dare?”

“Dare,” she said.

“I dare you to have a sleepover on your couch.” That eyebrow. “Just...whatever we are, Scully.”

After a few moments of hesitation, she nodded. Scully felt him squeeze her hands and smile. She stood still like a painting. He smiled at her and she forced herself to return it. Mulder unwound her like a knotted piece of string and lounged himself. Despite their height differences and oppositeness, they still were made for each other. Scully found herself curling up next to him as he grabbed the remote and changing it to a 4 am playing of ‘Mystery Science Theatre 3000.’ Mulder grabbed a knitted, over large Afghan from the back of her couch to tuck around them.

“What does this say to you, Agent Mulder?”

“I love you,” he whispered. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And I tell you without hesitation.”

Scully was quiet. “Why did you come here again?”

“There’s nowhere else where I would rather be.”

“Good enough for now.”

Scully quickly ran through possible scenarios. What did she have to lose? Everything. “This won’t change anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to lose us,” she replied cautiously.

“This will change nothing. If not, only for the better.”

She wisely chose not to say anything. She tried to relax but she shook her head. She pushed away towards the other end of the couch. There was a visible look of hurt on his face. “It’s not you,” she replied quickly.

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before. It’s me.”

“For once, it’s is me, Mulder. I can’t...I can’t get past my insecurities.”

“What insecurities?”

She ghosted him a smile. “The hallway? Either we have really bad timing or bees don’t like us.”

“Or?”

“You mentioned it earlier. I don’t want to be a replacement for Samantha or her…”

“Her?” It took a moment for Mulder to recognize what she was telling him. “Why do you say that?”

“I overheard what you said to Arizona. She’s staying on the x-files because it’s the best way to represent your interests. Before that, when we still had the office, I caught you all holding hands. She seemed so excited about something. That is when I called you. I told you I was driving back. I was just sitting in the car in the garage outside.”

“Watching in the shadows?” Mulder sighed. “Scully…”

“I feel like I’ve been on the outside a lot lately.” She sipped her hot toddy, the alcohol burning in the back of her throat. “So I can’t help but feel somewhat insecure. Just talking about it…” She snorted into her mug of tea. “It’s taking a lot.”

“I can understand that.”

“Do you?”

He hesitated. “I...like to think so.” Mulder leaned forward. “I know things have been tough. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still here.”

She titled her head in question. “What do you mean?”

“I thought that you have left. Maybe try to go back to Quantico or quit the FBI all together.”

“I almost did that night when they told me Salt Lake City. But you’re my partner, Mulder. It’s as simple as that.”

He took her free hand and entwined their fingers. “And for that, I am grateful for that of every moment of every day. Do you want to know the difference between you and her?”

“Our heights?”

Mulder snorted in muted laughter. “I guess, physically, but where it counts, you tower above her.”

She arched a skeptical eyebrow.

“She left me. No warning or note. Just up and left. I haven’t been in contact with her since she left. She wouldn’t have chased me like you have or been thrown in contempt of Congress for lying to save my ass.” Scully smiled as she looked down. “She wouldn’t have thrown everything out the window to deal with her crazy partner. You are so much more than she was, or is, Scully.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “And I have never loved anyone more than I love you. Truth. I meant what I said in that hospital. I love you.”

“You really overcomplicate things.”

Mulder shrugged and grinned. “So, Scully, where does this leave us?”

The insecurities raged inside her and she averted her gaze. “I’ve had nightmares about this too,” she said softly.

“Why does it always feel like we are watching from the shadows?” He asked her softly. “Especially in our nightmares? We feel like we don’t have control?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were supposed to be the psychologist?”

“It was rhetorical.”

“I know.” She sighed and looked at the tv for a distraction. “After all we’ve been through, Mulder…”

“What about it?”

“I do love you.” She said as quickly exhaled so it came out in a jumble of words. Scully doubted he had heard her. But his playful grin suggested otherwise. “You heard it?”

“Ears like a fox.”

Mulder bent forward again to kiss her again, forgoing all shyness. She felt him bring her closer, snaking his arms around her. He sighed audibly before she returned it with much gusto. Senses alight for both of them, Scully managed to be the level headed one between them both. “Mulder,” she breathed. “I hardly think this is the place?”

He pulled back and blinked in confusion. His senses were drunk off her that it was heard from him to make sense. “What?”

“I don’t think the couch Is the best place for this.”

“Why?”

He was only now capable of single-word answers and questions. She smiled. She felt lighter. The nightmares that had plagued the back of her mind for months now seemed like a distant memory. “Just because.”

It seemed like she was incapable of speaking too. She pushed the Afgan aside and got to her feet. The cups were forgotten and Mulder clicked off the television. Words failed them but their unspoken communication did otherwise. He took her hand and squeezed. “Are you certain?”

“No,” she admitted truthfully, “but I know what I feel. I’ve learned to trust my instincts.”

Mulder smiled. She led him to her bedroom. She kept the lamp near her bed on and he looked at her tossed sheets. He exhaled, letting out a heavy sigh. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”

“What would you have done, Mulder?”

“Acted sooner.”

“Well, you’re here now, right?”

“Of course. You haven’t kicked me out yet.”

“I’m not planning to.”

Scully took his hands and pulled him closer. She felt emboldened and the room felt hotter than it was. He smiled. “So…” She grabbed him by the scruff of his t-shirt and pulled him downwards. Mulder’s spine protested but he didn’t care. Let Scully take the lead. His arms reached downwards to bring her closer. Suddenly, she felt frozen. Just a second ago she had felt so confident. Now, she was unsure. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you certain about this?” Her voice was soft but the lingering hesitation could be heard. “About this thing between us?”

“Yes, I’m more certain than anything else.”

“Okay.” There was another pause. “So...how do we do this?”

“We just do,” he laughed.

She shook her head and said, “Isn’t this better than a stakeout, watching in the shadows for some would-be informant, and then finding out it was a waste of time.”

“Scully, are you proposing role-playing?”

“No. It’s just…” She laughed despite herself. “I never imagined this.”

“Are you certain you want to go through with this? You don’t have to if you’re…”

“No, I want this.”

Mulder kissed her softly at first but deepened it. He walked her backward to her bed until she bumped up against it. Mulder smiled as pushed her to sit down. “It’s, uh, been a while.”

“Same.”

He sat next to her and laughed. “I expected this to be different.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to do this, aren’t we? I expected it to be a bit more...fevered? And look at us, like two scared virgins.”

Scully laughed. “So, Mulder, do you want me to take the lead?”

He rolled his eyes. “Or we can just go back to watching TV. I’m sorry. I guess it’s the sleep deprivation talking.”

“We aren’t watching TV. I thought we were having a sleepover. At some point, we do have to sleep.” She got to her knees and pushed him onto his back. “Besides, Mulder, we’ve come this far. When have we ever done anything halfway?”

“What have you done with Dana Scully?”

“Invasion of the body snatchers?”

Scully felt her courage return. She swung her leg over his hip and straddled him. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t remember this being a part of a sleepover.”

“Well, it’s a thing between partners, right?”

She slid lower, squeezing her thighs in the process. He grunted in response. “Right. I’m not complaining by the way. I was just stating.”

She hummed. She was alight was all new sensations. Mulder let his hands drop to her waist. “I like those pajamas by the way. It’s not silk for once.”

“Cotton.”

“Huh.”

“My mom says…”

He couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t care what your mother said.”

His long arms twisted around her and pulled her down. She braced herself, sticking her hands out on either side of his head to brace the impact. She collided into an Earth-shattering kiss. Stranger thing how time and physics worked. She sighed happily as her tongue delved into his mouth. This was good. “This is wonderful,” she whispered between breaths.

“Do you know what makes this better?”

“What?”

“Give me some control?” She paused. “Do you trust me, Scully?

“Yes.”

He smiled. “You know that you’re the only one I trust, right?”

“Do you?”

Instead of answering her, he skillfully changed their positions so she was laying on her back and he was laying on her side. His left hand carefully undid the button down her pajama top. She breathed sharply at the first contact of his fingertips caressing the swell of her breast. “I do.” He watched her thoughtfully. “You see, before you...I had a few partners. They came and went. It was like they wanted nothing to do with me. But you...you challenged me, you made me better. I can’t place the exact moment but it may have been laughing with you in that graveyard in Oregon at five o’clock in the morning.”

She hissed at his touches. “That was nearly six years ago.”

“So, I like a slow burn. I have never felt this way about anyone except you.” She laughed but she bit her lips to keep herself from crying out. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Do your nightmares involve this, Scully?”

“I don’t let myself indulge in such fantasies.”

“Why not?”

He was growing bolder with his explorations. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Lately, with everything, I don’t know.”

“What do you say we change that?”

He bent down to kiss her again and pushed up on her top. He wasn’t rushing nor did she mean his slow advances. Soon, she found herself growing restless. “Mulder?”

“Hmmm?”

“Enough of this. Let’s finish this.”

This is not how neither one of them imagined things. Scully had it imagined it fast and quick after the turmoil from a case. Mulder, on the other hand, imagined it slow after one night of verbally sparing with one another. Who needed guidance when you had your better half?

The lamp remained on. There was no hiding from this. Six years of tension resolved.

The clothes were peeled artfully like it was nothing new. She laughed between their kisses. “At least I don’t have to save you this time.”

He suckled her hungrily. “You already did. A long time ago.”

Mulder reached to turn out the light on her nightstand and Scully grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “No, leave it on.”

The first time was always awkward. They both remembered being told that my friends when they were teenagers. “I expected this to be different,” he admitted.

“Mulder, shut up.”

“This has got to be a sleepover for the record books.”

At the clock turned 5:00 and the red numbers faded against the lamplight, Mulder continued. Clothes were shed, and they crawled beneath the covers. The fire ignited and fears were extinguished. Gone was the cold that plagued the nightmares and shadows that kept them in hiding. Their bodies entwined, just as their souls had been for years.

Their ecstasy came to a crescendo as Scully felt her last orgasm leave her and Mulder followed soon after. He was laughing as he rolled off to the side and she grinned like a fool. He started to laugh too and any tension that remained fade as she came down from her high.

“Well, I certainly don’t remember sleepovers being like that,” he remarked.

Scully could hear the fatigue in his voice, finally evident from someone who had not slept in over 24 hours. She smiled goofily and nodded toward the window. “The sun is coming up.”

“How can you tell?”

“It’s summer and during that time, the sun comes through the window sometimes. It’s been so long. I can’t remember the last time I stayed in bed this late.”

“We haven’t been here that late.” He yawned and pulled her closer. “Where are you going?”

“Give me a sec.”

She reached to turn out the light and moved to get out of bed. “Where do you think you’re going? And why did you turn out the light?”

“Because, Mulder, this is supposed to be a sleepover,” she said, “and we need to sleep.”

“And based on what scientific evidence?”

“I’m a doctor.”

He watched her jog nude across the bedroom in the dark shadows to open up the blinds slightly to let in the morning light. She rushed back to bed. “Oh, your cold,” he complained.

“Knock it off.”

Scully reclaimed her spot next to him. They both turned beneath the covers to face the newly opened blinds as the early morning light began to shine through. “No more shadows, Scully.”

“No more shadows.”

[megamegaturtle]

golden syrup

Rating: G

Relationships: Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter (Friendship)

Tags: Post-War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Baking, Self-Love, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Hand Holding, POV Harry Potter

Summary:

Golden syrup: a thick amber-coloured form of inverted sugar syrup that tastes delicious on scones, hot cakes, and treacle tart with a buttery, caramel flavor.

Golden: something Harry Potter hasn't felt in a long while.

[the one in which Luna teaches Harry how to bake]

(For the Dumbledore's Armada Discord Flash Comp: Magic Begins From Within! Winner for Overall Favorite, Best Platonic Friendship, and Best Use of Prompt!)

Read it here on Ao3

Harry Potter welcomes the new year with a six-pack of beer and booming fireworks. It smells like war. Gunpowder screams overhead and the lively colors flash before his eyes, but no one dies at the tip of a wand. He trembles, his muscles are weak, and he is defenseless. 

With each explosion, he relives every death. Cedric, in the graveyard, his face devoid of red. Green howls on the top of the Astrometry Tower and Dumbledore falls. Sirius, in a flash of blue, his body gone in a blink.   

Change feels like swimming in the desolate waters of the Black Lake. It is numb and no one can save him, but Harry still swims. He longs for the shore, but breath is scarce, just like his seconds. He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, but he waits for it with a guarded heart.

Life slows in solitude, Harry decides. It is as cozy as an empty flat that has a drafty window. Winter creeps in every crevice and rustles the tops of cardboard boxes. Loneliness nestles in the space where his friends used to stand, but Ron and Hermione are moving on to tomorrow, with or without a plan.

He sits in a deserted living room, a ratty couch as his lonesome furniture. He stares out the window, the gray sky frozen in the sunlight. It does not thaw as the sun moves across the day. He sits there frozen too and welcomes snow to fall over his soul. He wants to be buried under soft white until he sinks into the cold. 

He is the aftermath of war.

He is the definition of lost.

But someone finds him anyway.

The knock on his door is light, but persistent. The knocks continue even after a full minute. Harry gets up, his knees creak and his joints sore. He drags his feet just like his blanket clings to the floor. He trips over a cheap rum bottle; the glass echoes a shrill laugh in his flat.

His fingers glue to the doorknob and shake at welcoming someone into nothing. Hot disappointment whispers in his ear, and warm, breathy shame is enough to propel him into battle. Harry plants his feet to the ground, his body tenses for a fight. He clenches his jaw into a familiar ache.

Harry prepares for someone to drag him into a hug. He expects someone to force him back to a life with obligations. But Luna Lovegood only pauses her knocking and takes a step back. Grocery bags rest at her feet and her bottle cap necklace jingles like a blessing. She smiles up at him like she saw him yesterday.

“Hello, Harry,” she says. “I like your blanket cape.”

A blush paints his cheeks, and he clears his throat, his voice raspy. “Hey, Luna.” 

Luna stares at him patiently from the threshold as Harry opens the door wide enough for her to enter. She does not comment on the state of his empty flat or how it’s been so long since she’s seen him. She only asks to be directed to the kitchen. He leads her with slow steps, each movement heavy on his person. Luna trails behind him, and the items in her bags jostle together as a cheery chime.

Without help, she hoists the bags onto the counter and takes everything out: golden syrup, ginger, and other baking ingredients. She rests a pie tin to one side and a few mixing bowls and some utensils to the other. Carefully, she pulls out a handwritten recipe and reads it once before putting it on the counter too.

Harry licks his lips, desperately wishing he had a glass of water. “Luna, not that I’m not happy to see you—”

“But you’re not happy to see me, Harry,” she interrupts. “You haven’t been happy to see anyone.”

“Okay, fair enough, but—”

“I am happy to see you though,” she interrupts again, her smile honest and sweet. Her smile cuts like crystalized honey. It has sat too long in the opened container in the pantry, forgotten. 

Harry swallows his growing irritation; burning anger kept tight under a lid. “Right, well—thank you, but what are you doing?”

Luna blinks and gestures to her ingredients. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re making a treacle tart. Mother said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“I’m sorry—what?” Harry sputters. “You want—my heart?!”

“No, Harry,” she sighs. “We’re making this so you can get through to your own heart. You like treacle tart and I brought Mum’s recipe.”

“Luna, I don’t—I don’t need to get through to my heart. I’m  fine. Perfectly and utterly  fine.”

Luna only hums and begins reciting the instructions. “Okay, first we must make the short crust pastry. Hermione said it’s easier the Muggle way, so I am willing to try, but I don’t know the Muggle way. Anyway, Step 1) gather the flour, butter, and very cold water. Step 2) place 272 grams of flour in the mixing bowl—272 grams? That’s such an odd number. Okay, place 272 grams of flour with 2 sticks of butter, cubed, and—” 

Luna pauses when Harry does not move and points to the counter. “Harry, what are you doing? I can’t make the tart by myself.”

Tension in his chest crawls up his throat. “Yes, you can. I didn’t even ask you to come over here today. I said I was fine and you’re—I don’t need a bloody tart, Luna! I just want to be left alone.”

Luna puts down the recipe. “Harry,” she whispers. She says his name as if he’s precious. “I don’t want you to be alone the same way—the same way you didn’t want me to be alone.” She reaches across the counter and touches the back of his hand. “I just want to help you find your shoes, Harry. Can I—will you let me help you find your shoes?”

Her chilled fingertips carry the weight of friendship in their gentle touch. Twigs crunch under their feet. They laugh as teenagers laugh. They love as teenagers love. Magic weaves into all their moments of silence, never forcing either to speak.

Luna’s pale blue eyes find him with kindness, her heart an anchor when he feels so far away. Harry wonders if he is a ghost now, but Luna’s hand wraps around his and she tugs him away from gunpowder explosions, pulling him out of darkness to stand by her side. She is the lifeline in the Black Lake, skipping like a stone across the water to the other side. She takes him with her and for once, Harry does not feel like he’s drowning.

Smiling doesn't feel right, but he clings to her hand. “Okay, Luna. We can make a treacle tart.”

She beams at him and begins reading the instructions again.

Harry was always a decent student, but in the stillness with Luna, Harry listens. He makes the crust as she instructs and makes the filling too. Together they watch the golden syrup simmer over the hob with juicy lemon and mix it with breadcrumbs. They beat the egg and cream together with a fork, but never has Harry felt more sure about a moment. Luna has never asked him to face his own crossroads. 

His chilly flat warms with the oven and the loneliness thaws with Luna’s laughter. She charms his blanket into a real cape, and it fastens around his neck with a simple button. She says it suits him.

The timer buzzes and Luna dons lion oven mitts. Heat pours out of the oven as she opens it and delicious buttery caramel wafts under their noses. Harry’s mouth waters as he watches steam rise from tart, tasting the sweet syrup in the air.

“Very good, Harry Potter,” Luna praises. She rests the tart on the table and performs a cooling spell. “The golden-brown color reminds me of the hares we see in the garden during spring.”

“...is that a good thing? That sounds like a good thing. ”

She peers at him with a small smile. “Of course. They never played tricks on us when we fed them fresh berries from our bushels.”

Luna fishes out a bowl of clotted cream she kept tight under a statis charm. The pie cools to perfect temperature with the aid of her magic, and she spells some plates to set themselves at the table. They whiz around the room until they lay calmly like little birds. Together, they sit at his small kitchen table for two. Luna pours them both a glass of milk and serves them each a slice of tart. She tops their slices with a delicious helping of sweet, clotted cream.

Harry holds his fork with trepidation, the humble slice gooey at the edges of its filling. The toasted breadcrumbs feel crunchy under his fork, but he is too nervous to slice it.

Luna’s foot touches his under the table. “Go on, Harry,” she says. “Try it. You deserve it.”

Harry meets her eyes only for a moment, but then he nods, bracing himself as the metal of his fork hits the ceramic plate. The sound snaps like a crumbled bell, but still rings with finality. With nerves on fire, he takes his first bite with dolloped cream.

Buttery warmth melts in his mouth, the hint of slight spice and sweetness oozing in all his bones. He sinks in his chair as he relishes the delicate pastry crust, the flakey layers dissolving on his tongue. The cream cuts the sweetness, so it is not overbearing, but remains pleasant like a tender kiss.

Luna props her chin in her hand and grins at him. “How does it feel to fall in love with something you made?”  

Harry blinks at her words, startled by their genuine curiosity, and he remembers the dough as it stuck to his skin. His hands still smell like lemon and when he bends his index finger, a cut stings from the juice. The pie in front of him unassumingly sits in in the middle of the table, enveloping him in kind warmth and wonderful memories.

His mouth wobbles as he takes a second bite, and Harry remembers his Hogwart’s letter. Another, the first time he made friends. He eats more and remembers Hermione’s fierce hugs when she thought no one was looking. A thick part of filling and he can feel the comfort from Ron’s laughter as they stayed up all night. At the very last bite, he remembers dancing with the girl across the table when no music played just because she wanted to dance.

Like the sun dawning, emotion wells at the corners of Harry’s eyes and his chest caves as he hunches over the table. He heaves a choked sob as he curls around his finished plate, the loneliness in his heart thawing in the warmth of a home cooked treat. Blindly, he pats the table, searching for Luna’s hand. Her icy fingers thread between his and squeeze tight as she kisses his knuckles. Her thumb traces over the spot where her lips touched.

She says nothing, but he hears her heart: I am here with you. 

Love builds inside him and spreads to tips of his toes, igniting a fire of forgiveness in its wake. In the trail of flames, he saves some love for himself. 

Magic washes over him when Luna squeezes his hand once more. With a teary laugh, he sits up and wipes his face. Luna looks at him as if he is handsome as she wears a content smile. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the snow inside his body melting in Luna’s bright friendship.

Harry cups his hands around Luna’s, relishing in the peace that settles over him.

He smiles for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you, Luna.”

[sirtommyholland]

lip sync battle || tom holland x female reader

A/N: I didn’t write Tom’s performance in this, so whether he performs Umbrella or something else is entirely left to your imagination. I just thought it would be impossible to win against Umbrella :D

Also this has references to Mamma Mia, but no spoilers I think. It just mentions the Dancing Queen scene, a lot. (I don’t own the GIFs btw.)

Summary: Reader goes up against Tom Holland in Lip Sync Battle performing Dancing Queen by Abba (Mamma Mia movie version). Zendaya is here with her too because she is awesome.

Word Count: 967 (I have been writing for hours how is it barely 1k?!)

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Y6_GDiRPcE  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRoWiTcO7dk  the performance is a mash up of these videos basically.

   You were in the dressing room getting ready for your second performance in the Lip Sync Battle. Both you and Tom had been practising for a long time for your respective shows, and it was really hard arranging everything and trying to hide it from the other at the same time. 

   Tom had a dancing career under his belt, and was probably going to use it to his full advantage, so you decided to bring in one of his closest friends to even the odds and make the victory even sweeter.

   So you called Zendaya and asked her if she wanted to help you defeat (and humiliate) Tom on TV, and she immediately said yes. She also brought in one of their close friends as well, Deja Carter. Maybe it was an unfair advantage, bringing another celebrity with you, but well, Channing Tatum brought in Beyoncé, so you figured all was fair in love and war.

   You were dressed in the costumes Donna and the Dynamos wore in the movie, they were a bit hard to dance in, but they were definetely flashier than the overalls Donna wore in the actual scene. Zendaya was your Tanya and Deja was Rosie, you all had your wigs and make up on, ready to go on to stage when they called for you. You were taking selfies and silly videos to share later when the show was aired. 

   “Man I’m so excited for this.” you said, as you checked yourself in the mirror for one last time. You adjusted the feather boa around your shoulders, you were gonna give it to Tom in the middle of the dance. “I can’t wait to see the look on Tommy’s face.”

   “We’re so gonna win this.” Deja said. “Look at us, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

   “I can’t wait to see him cry and run off into Harrison’s arms when he loses.” Zendaya said, making you and Deja laugh. 

   Just then, one of the assistants came into the room. “We’re ready for you.” she said, and you all got up to follow her to the stage door.

   There was a black curtain on the stage, hiding you from the audience until the music started (you asked for a rising platform to lift you to the stage but that was too much apparently). You got into position on the stage, Zendaya to your right and Deja to your left, waiting for your name to be announced to start. 

   “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N L/N!!!!!”

    And with that, the curtain rised and the music started. The audience went mad when they heard the song, and the cheers only got louder when they realized it was Zendaya beside you. You could hear Tom yelling “NOOO” in the background and howling with laughter but you kept your focus on the moves.

    When the ‘anybody could be that guy’ part came on, you made your way to Tom as you were swaying with the music. You draped your feather boa around his shoulders, and you got really close to his face as you sang ‘that guy’. At this point, he was laughing so hard that you feared he was gonna fall of his chair any second.

   You made your way back to the girls as lots of back up dancers came on to the stage, and you started the dance routine at the docks. This part was the hardest to do in those tight costumes, but it was a must-have because it was such an iconic scene. You did the dance in perfect harmony, and you had a lot of fun playing the air guitar and swinging your hair around like Donna Sheridan. 

    And when the final part came up where Donna pushed her friends into the sea, you gave them a gentle shove from the stage, and stage hands who were standing ready in the crowd caught them immediately. You didn’t cannonball dive into the audience obviously, but instead you turned your back and opened your arms, and let yourself fall from the stage, stage hands catching you easily and carrying you over their heads. 

   The three of you were crowd surfing for a few moments, accompanied by the defeaning cheers of the audiance, and you were enjoying every second of it. Finally the stage hands gently put you back on the stage and you held hands with Zendaya and Deja as you gave a bow to the audience, all of you out of breath and laughing, and you hugged each other tightly immediately afterwards. 

   Just as you withdrew from the hug, Tom ran up to you and hugged you tightly. 

   “That was amazing, oh my god!” he was yelling in your ear and laughing at the same time. You hugged him tighter and buried your head into his shoulder as you kept on laughing, you were high on adrenaline and you just weren’t able to stop. 

   Tom broke apart from you as the host praised your performance and announced that Tom was going start his second performance in a few moments. Then there was a small break as the cameras stopped rolling. 

   Tom immediately pulled you into a kiss, seemingly forgetting about the audiance that were still there and could very well be recording this with their phones. 

   “That was amazing.” he said, looking at you with a wide smile, his forehead against yours. But then he pulled back and his happy smile turned into a teasing smirk. “I’d say you might even have a small chance of winning now.”  

   “Oh, we’ll see in a moment, Holland.” you smirked at him, and you made your way to the dressing rooms together with Zendaya and Deja, laughing and talking about your performance. To say the least, it was one of the best nights of your life.

    Some end notes: for those of you who might be confused, Deja is a close friend of Zendaya, and I guess Tom as well. You may have seen this video of them dancing together. 

   And this was my first (posted) imagine ever, and English isn’t my first language, so if there are things to correct, tell me!

   Stay safe, everyone!

MASTERLIST 

[thebrighteye]

Protector

I was broken you made me whole again The only one I trusted more than myself -What I Believe [Skillet] Febuwhump Day 14: "I didn't mean it." | Fandom: Overwatch (Pre-Fall) | Angela & Gabriel

AO3 | FF.net | Works

"Did you know that my parents died in the war?" She asked, the sudden change of topic making him blink with surprise. "Angela, what--" He started, but she spoke over him. "They died, leaving me an orphan with my grandparents. Already an outsider – the girl without parents – I buried myself in my academics because I had a burning need to prove myself worthy. So, I flew through school – all the way through university and medical school." Angela didn't know where the words were coming from, only that she needed to say them and he needed to hear them. "Then, my grandparents died - and I was truly an orphan then, with no one at all to turn to." She sighed as her eyes dropped to her lap. "I didn't have any friends, because who wanted to be friends with a child that was smarter than them? It was incredibly lonely, with teachers that had no time and peers that avoided me, so I drowned myself in my studies and ignored the looks and the whispers." Angela shrugged as if to say it happens sometimes, that it didn't matter - though clearly it did, considering she was recounting it to him now. "It was no different at the hospital; I excelled, moved up the ranks, and my peers hated me even as they respected me. I had no friends – not someone I'd gossip with or laugh with, though I admit I throw myself into my work so deeply that I have little time for such things, as you know." She smiled derisively, as if it didn't bother her – though if it hadn't, she wouldn't be talking about it, forcing the words out for him to hear. "Then you and Jack showed up, and I decided to join Overwatch – even with my misgivings. I expected it to be much the same, especially with my less-than-stellar opinions." She took a breath, having almost forgotten how to breathe in her need to speak. "But it wasn't. I have friends here – honest friends, not the ones that wait for you to stumble so they can pull the rug out from under you." Angela glanced up and saw that Gabriel was listening intently, still curious as to what – exactly – her point was. "You, Gabriel, you were my first friend – and I doubt you even knew it, because you're good with people in a way that I'm not. You and Jack and Ana, you were my first friends, ever since I was a small girl that still had parents." She took a shuddering breath and gripped her legs with fingers that trembled. "So believe me, Gabriel, when I say that I can't lose you – any of you. I have lost too much." Angela let out a breath that sounded like a sob. "But you go, all three of you - and you take risks, and you save people, and you get shot - and I am left behind to wait, hands wringing, praying that this time won't be the last time, that you will return home whole or on a gurney for me to put back together and not in a body bag for me to bury." Her words were heated with anger and terror and anxiety: because they made her stay behind, because they didn't trust her to survive on a battlefield, to watch their backs like they watched each other. She let the anger fuel her because anything else would lead to tears, and she just couldn't. Jack had led the team that flushed out the enemy, making sure the way was clear so she could move unhindered. Ana had watched out for her, making sure that they knew there was an enemy behind them so that she wouldn't be hurt. Gabriel had stayed at her side the entire time, and, when it came down to it, he jumped in front of a shooter for her. "So instead of letting me learn how to be useful, you three protect me like a delicate china doll. You shoved me aside to take a bullet. You gave me a concussion, but I still dutifully stopped your bleeding and even pulled a bullet out of you, because you're important and I didn't have time to take care of myself without endangering you." She practically growled the words. "Wait- you had a concussion and you performed surgery on me?" Gabriel's voice was indignant, and she rolled her eyes; he had, of course, missed the point entirely. "You're fine. All your pieces are in the right spots." She snapped back. "A concussion?" He repeated. "Yes. Blow to the head, causes dizziness, nausea? Stop me if any of this sounds familiar." Angela retorted dryly. "I know what a concussion is, Angela. Why were you doing anything with a concussion?" He demanded. "There you go again, coddling me! You had four bullets in you, and you still did your job – you," she hesitated only briefly, "killed the man that would have killed me. I get slammed into a wall – your fault, by the way – and you act like it's the end of the world!" She yelled, fury rising. "My fault? Excuse me for saving your life!" He yelled back, his own temper fraying. "But that doesn't give you any right—" Angela started yelling right back. "I'm the doctor; I have every right." Her words battled with his to be loudest. "—to perform surgery on anyone with a concussion." His eyes were blazing just as much as hers were. "You're the doctor; you should know better." "Are you dead? Dying? Missing pieces?" Angela demanded. "No, because I did my job. You. Are. Fine." The door opened, and both turned to glare at the intruders. Jack stood in the doorway, Ana a step behind him, both looking rather surprised to find the two of them at each other's throats. "My, someone's in a mood today," Ana remarked blithely, recovering first. "You must be feeling better, Gabe." She pushed Jack inside and closed the door behind her. "Now, what's got you both so riled up?" Angela crossed her arms and glared at Gabriel. "He doesn't think I'm capable of being a professional." She accused. "She had a concussion and was operating on me; I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be pissed about that!" He met her glare with one of his own. Ana clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Simmer down, children." They both turned their glare on the older woman, who just laughed. "You're both right, though you're too angry to see it. Angela, darling, you shouldn't have been doing anything in your state – but in her defense, she was very protective of you, Gabriel." She winked jovially, and Angela found herself blushing despite herself. "Despite her injury, she still performed admirably, and had she been anyone else, you'd probably be praising them." Ana glanced at Jack, and he nodded in agreement. "Now, apologize so we can talk," Ana said, hands on her hips as she waited for them to get on with it already. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Gabriel." Angela murmured, eyes downcast and genuinely contrite; now that the wind was out of her sails, she felt extremely remorseful. "Yeah, I know, doc. I shouldn't have yelled either." Gabriel sighed. "I didn't mean it." "Good. Now that that's done, Angela should have a report for us." The blonde doctor made a face as the other two found seats, but she sat up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears dutifully.

So, like, 99.99% of this has been written for over a year (or three). This was originally going to be a scene in my long fic "Forging" (it would have been part of / the end of the second scene of the 8th chapter "Determination"). But, it got scrapped and put into my giant pile of 'stuff I eventually want to post somewhere' and now, well, here we are!

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Jimin Scenario| You are his photographer and fall for him

Oh my god he looks so fucking beautiful. You found yourself completely captivated watching Jimin perform up on stage. You were supposed to be taking photos of him, but seeing those little diamonds glitter under his eyes during his performance of Serendipity had literally left you speechless.  Bless the stylist my goodness. You froze, mouth agape just watching until your coworker nudged you, snapping you back to reality as you began taking photos again. 

“You really got it bad you know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Listen, I’m just going to give you some advice as not only a coworker but also as a friend. You’re horrible at hiding your feelings for Jimin. If you value your job and his, you should probably do a better job at hiding it or ask to be assigned to a different member. The last thing you want is a scandal on your hands.” She walks away from you, leaving you feeling dumbfounded about the whole situation. You were appalled that you let yourself get so wrapped up in your feelings that other people began to notice. Not only did you put your own job in jeopardy, but Jimin’s as well. You shake your head snapping yourself out of it, and making a mental note to hide your feelings better. You’re looking at Jimin through the lense of your camera when he makes eye contact with you, throwing a subtle wink your way and a smirk making the crowd go wild as well as your heart.

Shit. This is bad. You think to yourself. How did you let your feelings for him get so out of control? You were friends with all the members, genuinely enjoyed their company and they seemed to enjoy yours as well. You all always went out together and got dinner after the shows with the rest of the staff. But being Jimin’s photographer had left you getting to know him more personally than the others as you two were almost always together when they did photo shoots or performances. 

Photographing his performances was always your favorite. The way he moved when he danced, it was absolutely beautiful and he looked ethereal. You had always managed to capture his subtle gestures, his emotions and passion with just a single photograph. He sometimes was even moved to tears because of how amazing the photos were you took of him. He has told you many times that your hearts must be on the same wavelength because you always seem to know the exact moments to take his photos.

You took it as playful teasing, at first. But somewhere along the way you began to believe his words. And now here you were, hopelessly crushing on the one person you never should be. The one person you could never have. The one person who was way too good for you. Coming to that realization hurt you, but you buried the hurt into the deepest reaches of your heart to hopefully never see the light of day. When his performance was over he bowed to the crowd and waved at everyone, eyes landing on you before the lights dimmed. You willed your heart to calm down and painted a mask of professionalism on your face, ready to complete your task at hand the rest of the night. 

Once the show was over you were backstage packing up your camera equipment when you felt a familiar pair of hands cover your eyes. 

“Guess who?”

“Hmmm, Jimin?” He turns you around and has that bright smile on his face that makes butterflies feel like they’re going to flutter right out of your throat if you try to talk. 

“Hey y/n. Can I see some of the photos you took tonight?”

“Not right now. I’ll go through them and send you the good ones to look over.”  He can tell you’re being short with him and the smile fades from his face, making your chest hurt.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah everything is fine. Just tired. I think I’m going to skip out on dinner with you guys tonight.”

“But.. y/n you always come out with us it won’t be the same if you’re not there.” He’s pouting, and you almost give in. You’re probably one of the only people who manage to tell him no when he looks at you with those puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I just have had a rough week and I really want to just go home and sleep. You understand right?” You offer him a small smile to try and placate him but it doesn't seem to work. He frowns at you. “Jimin, please.” He relents.

“Alright, fine. But I want to see those photos asap tomorrow. Pretty please? The photos you take are always so beautiful and I love looking at them. You really know how to make me look good.”

“You don’t need my help to do that.” You mentally smack yourself in the face for having made such a comment. 

“Aww you do like me after all!” 

“Jimin, I’m just your photographer, nothing else. I didn’t mean it like that.” You finally finish packing up your equipment and the dejected look on Jimin’s face almost makes you apologize and take back what you just said, but you know it’s for the best.

“Okay.. Sorry I was just teasing you. I’ll just see you tomorrow I guess so we can go over the photos?”

“Sure. Have a good night.”

“You too, y/n.” 

You walk through your apartment door and let out a loud yell in frustration. You can’t keep doing this. Being around Jimin all the time is just going to make your feelings stronger. You can’t stop thinking about the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how he loses himself in laughter, how he loves with his whole being. You are right in the middle of your little crisis when your phone goes off, it’s a message from Jimin. It’s a photo of him with his lower lip jut out in a pout. Wish you were here with us. It’s not the same without you. 

You feel a lump form in your throat but quickly swallow it down. You leave the message unanswered, opting to lay down instead and figure out what you should do. A part of you was considering asking your coworker if you could switch jobs with her. She was Hoseok’s photographer, and you thought maybe putting some distance between you and Jimin would be for the best. After a long time of thinking about your options you decided this would be the best one. Tomorrow you would go over the photos with Jimin, and then talk to the company about switching who you’d be photographing.

The next morning you wake up and go through the photos, picking out the best ones to show too Jimin. You text him in the afternoon to see if he wants to meet with you.

Hey Jimin. Sorry I crashed as soon as I got home and just saw your message. I hope you still had a good time. When did you want to meet to go over the photos?

He texts you back almost instantly.

Whenever you want to y/n! I’m free all day. How about in an hour? 

Sounds good. See you soon.

See you soon! 

Jimin has arrived at the company first, waiting outside of your office. He greets you with a smile as always, and you offer a small smile back.

“Hey y/n. Are you feeling better today?”

“Yeah. I am actually. I think I just needed a good night’s rest.”

“Good! You ready to go over the photos now?”

“Sure.” You unlock your office door and sit on your chair. Jimin grabs a seat and pulls it up, probably a little big closer than necessary but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to be close to you. You move to plug your camera into your computer so he can see the photos better. When you sit back down you subtly move your chair farther away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice but based on the small frown that forms on his face you know he noticed. It breaks your heart having to treat him like this but you tell yourself it’s for the best for both of you, if just to lessen the ache a little bit. 

You bring up the first photo and Jimin of course, praises your photography skills. He continues praising you, gradually leaning closer to you until his chest is pushed up against your side as he leans into you to get a better look at the photos. 

“Can you send me that one? I want to post it to our twitter and Weverse it’s amazing. People should know your work and know how amazing you are. You smile and do as he asks. Now that you two are done going over the photos together there is a silence that has settled over the room. You glance at the clock and realize it’s almost time for your meeting. 

“Jimin, I have to go now. I have a meeting with the company.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Just.. some things I need to get sorted out.” Jimin looks at you, concern evident in his features. 

“Y/n are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting really weird lately.”

“I’m fine. Once this is all done with everything will go back to how it should be.”

“I’m not sure if I really like the sound of that..” You ruffle his hair and smile at him, trying to calm his nerves. There’s no sense in making him worry about you.

“Don't worry about it. You can stay and look at the photos for as long as you want to. Just lock the door when you leave okay?” He nods and picks up your camera to look at the photos you hadn’t shown him. Some of them were a little blurry, but he couldn’t help but burst out laughing at a series of photos he had come across. You had captured his flirty wink perfectly and then the next photo was blurry and then a shot came through of the ground as if you had almost dropped your camera. Jimin giggles to himself as he thinks about the fact that he had made you flustered. He liked you, a little more than an artist should like their photographer. But you two spent so much time together and he just couldn’t help it. You treated him just like a normal person, not like some idol that was put on a pedestal. And your photos told him that you really saw his heart. He sighed thinking about what to do. He wanted to be honest with you and tell you his feelings but you had bolted out of the room. And now you have some secret meeting with the company? He had no idea what to expect from all this. Were you thinking about leaving? Was his playful flirting making you uncomfortable?

He was still mulling over his thoughts and he hadn’t noticed that a half hour had gone by. His was snapped out of his thoughts when his phone went off and he saw a text from his manager.

Y/n and Hoseok’s photographer are switching so she’ll be with you now and y/n will be with Hoseok. Just wanted to inform you so you weren't surprised at the photoshoot tomorrow. 

Jimin nearly drops his phone at the message. Why would you do something like that? Was this your choice or the company’s? Had he done something to upset you? Jimin feels like he’s going to go insane if he doesn’t find out what the hell happened. He rushes out of your office, heading to the meeting room. When he arrives he presses his ear up against the door and can hear you all talking muffled inside of the room. He can’t hear anything you’re saying and it bothers him. He sighs and waits outside of the room on one of the chairs, waiting for the meeting to be officially over. He hears the door click open and his gaze immediately snaps up and meets your eyes.

“J-Jimin what are you doing? Didn’t you get Sejin’s message?”

“Yes. I did. And I think we need to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It was my choice. And I would appreciate it if you would respect that.” You walk past him towards the elevators and he darts in after you before the doors can shut. 

“Y/n please tell me did I do something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable or something?” He’s pleading with you to give him answers and the fact you can’t offer him any hurts you. You choose not to answer him. When the elevator dings that it has hit the bottom floor suddenly Jimin grabs your wrist and drags you away from the lobby.

“Jimin stop it just let me go!”

“No. Not until you give me some answers I can accept.” He pulls you into what looks like a storage closet, locking the door behind him and standing in front of the door.

“Jimin.. please just let me go. I don't want to do this right now.” 

“Now is the only time I am going to be able to get you to talk to me. What did I do to make you hate me so much that you don’t want to even be around me anymore?” Seeing the hurt in his eyes and the tears that start to well up in his eyes is what breaks you.

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks as you begin to cry as well. He is too quick to bring his thumbs to your cheeks and wipe them away.

“Just talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I messed up everything. It’s not you. It was never you.” He drops his hands away from your face, feeling rather confused. 

“What do you mean you messed everything up?”

“With my stupid feelings that’s why. I like you. Too much. More than just friends. I had to do something to protect our careers so I asked to be Hoseok’s photographer instead. Being around you all the time is just making it worse. You’re too... perfect.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, he’s too shocked to even form a coherent sentence. You like him too? For how long? Why are you trying to push him away then? “And judging by the look on your face you obviously don’t feel the same way. So if you’ll excuse me.” You reach behind him to unlock the door only to have his hand reach out and pull your arm back. The intensity of his expression is difficult for you to get a read on.

“Can you let me go? I want to get out of here now I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.” Jimin’s brain finally catches up and moves his hand down from your wrist to link your hands together. 

“I can’t do that y/n. I can’t just let you go. Not when I know that you feel the same way.” Your eyes shoot up and look into his own. You notice his gaze trailing down to your lips and you feel your stomach churn with anticipation. He leans down and finally, connects your lips together. You didn’t think your first kiss with Jimin was ever going to happen. And although it was salty with your tears and inside of a cramped storage closet, it was perfect and everything you had been waiting for. You let yourself got lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, until he pulls away. He’s smiling at you so joyfully, but you can’t return his happiness.

“Jimin you know we can’t do this.”

“And why not?”

“Because it is extremely frowned upon for idols to date staff members. I could lose my job. It’s for the best if we don’t pursue this further.”

“We can talk to the company. If we keep things a secret from the public I don't think they would mind.” 

“This is a horrible idea. They could fire me right on the spot. They won’t do anything to you, you’re irreplaceable. I’m just a photographer that can easily be let go and filled in with someone else. Someone who has more sense than to fall for the one person they shouldn't.”

“I’ll talk to them, and convince them to let you stay.”

“What makes you think they’re going to agree?” Jimin giggles and his eye smile sends your heart thudding against your rib cage. He leans down and pecks another kiss to your lips and you absolutely melt.

“Well, I mean I’m not trying to boast or anything but most people are immune to my charms. I just have to flash these puppy eyes and a sweet smile, and I guarantee they won't say no.”

“Jimin you’re absolutely ridiculous there’s not way that’s going to work.” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to bet?”

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” Jimin lets out a loud laugh when he sees your shocked expression.

“I told you! Now you have to buy me dinner.” 

“Alright fine. I can’t believe you’re going to make me pay on our first date.” You pout and he wags his finger back and forth at you.

“Nope. Not gonna work on me baby, sorry. We made a bet and you lost. So now you have to treat me.” You shake your head in disbelief but have a fond smile on your face.

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” 

“I don’t care. Anywhere is fine. I am just happy I get to be with you.” He kisses you again, this time more deeply but also with a sense of longing. Like he thought maybe the last time he kissed you was going to be it. When you two finally break apart you’re feeling a little bit dizzy at the swimming feeling in your head. You’re about to respond when you hear his stomach growl, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, let’s go get you some food, love.” 

“L-love?”

“Yeah, you mind if I call you that?”

“No! I actually really like it.” You smile and peck kiss his cheek, leading him outside and to your car to drive you both to dinner. You open the car door for him and he laughs. “You’re really going all out on this treating me thing aren’t you?”

“Only the best for you.” You close the door and enter in the drivers side, staring the car but before you can pull away Jimin reaches his hand over and holds yours. You turn to look at him and feel the butterflies flutter at the warm way he’s smiling at you.

“Thank you for staying with me and giving me a chance y/n. I know it’s going to be hard since we have to keep things on the down low..”

“Hey, Jimin it’s okay. That doesn't even really bother me. As long as I get to be with you that’s all that matters.” 

“You’re amazing you know that?”

“And so are you. Now let’s go get some food before I starve.” Jimin chuckles and agrees. He’s already so smitten with you and wants nothing more than to see that smile on your face always. He quietly tells you that he loves you, you don’t hear him but that’s okay. Some day he’ll tell you for real, but he’s going to make damn sure everyday until that point you know just how loved you are. 

[day-writingdaydreams]

Loyal, Brave & True

Based heavily on the song “Loyal Brave True” from the new Disney Live-Action Movie  Mulan

This work is also posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332522

Summary: When all is said and done, we all have the same question: am I enough?

It’s even harder when half of your life is behind a spotted mask

Disclaimer: All characters of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir belong to Thomas Astruc and Jeremy Zag

🎵Who am I without my armor?

Standing in my father’s shoes

All I know is that it’s harder

To be loyal, brave, and true🎵

Loyal Brave True - Christina Aguilera

Marinette trudged up the stairs, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. She still couldn’t get over the fact that she had been expelled from school and reinstated all within the span of less than two days.

Standing in front of her full length mirror, she took in whom she perceived to be the slightly broken person that stood reflected before her. Her pallid complexion and the dark circles under her eyes revealing the heavy exhaustion pulling at her bones.

She was tired of keeping up the pretenses, of hiding behind her spotted armor, of the endless sleepless nights of being too stressed out by schoolwork and Lila’s threats and finding ways to stop Hawkmoth.

Of pretending that she was okay when she really wasn’t.

It just seemed like everyone believed every one of Lila’s lies! How could they believe that she threw that lying bitch down those stairs? That sneaky fox didn’t even try to pretend that she had hurt herself from her fall.

Where was the security footage? Why didn’t anyone insist on taking that Italian vixen to the nurse to get her checked over? Anyone with eyes could see that she was faking her injuries!

Looking past herself in the mirror, Marinette saw the pictures that she had tacked to the wall. Images of her with her parents, with the Girl Squad. With Alya and Nino.

With Adrien.

Feeling betrayed by those whom she thought had her back, she turned to her Kwami with tears in her eyes, desperate for validation. “Tikki?”

“Yes, Marinette?” The little red being asked from her spot on the desk, chocolate chip cookie in hand.

“Am I a good Ladybug?” The designer asked in a small voice.

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki sighed, setting the cookie down. “Of course you’re a good Ladybug! You are one of my best wielders.”

“But am I, really? I mean, underneath the suit, without the spots... am I truly a good Ladybug?" Marinette asked pensively.

‘Oh,’ the Kwami thought, ‘this is one of those questions. She’s doubting herself again.’

"Marinette," she began, "how many times must I tell you this? There is no Ladybug without you." Tikki flew over to rest on her Chosen's shoulder. "There have been and there will be other holders of the Ladybug Miraculous," she continued in a contemplative voice, "but you are the only one who could be Ladybug. With and without the mask."

Suddenly a thump was heard on the balcony, and with a quick look conveying a mutual understanding that this conversation wasn’t finished, Tikki flew fast to hide in a desk drawer. Soon after, there was a knock heard on her skylight.

“Hello, Purrincess!” The cat themed hero greeted her as she let him in. “I wanted to check up on my favorite civilian. I heard that there was some excitement at your school recently?”

That show of kindness was the straw that broke the camel's back. The dam holding in her tears broke and Marinette collapsed, sobbing. With a startled “Whoa,” Chat Noir quickly caught her before she hit the ground, holding her tightly against him while trying to calm the crying girl in his arms.

When her sobs became hiccups, and her hiccups turned to sniffles, he was finally able to ask, “Princess, what happened?” with concern lacing his voice.

“It… it was awful Ch-chat N-noir. I... I was almost ak-kumatized yesterday,” she choked out.

“What?!” Chat exclaimed quietly, still holding the shaking girl in his embrace. Scooping her up carefully in a bridal hold, he settled them down comfortably on her chaise with her curled up tightly against him, her head tucked under his chin, similar to how his own mother would cradle him as a crying child. "Princess… Marinette, can you walk me through this? Please? I want to understand what happened.”

She slowly confided to him her worries. Well, almost all of them. The cat-themed hero growled low as he learned of the fake fox's promised threats, furious that Lila had the audacity to harm his cherished friend.

High-road be damned, no one hurts his Princess!

“And what really... made it worse… was that... everyone was writing my concerns off as … as jealousy,” Marinette choked out as her crying started back up. “I am NOT jealous of that … that … lying fox!”

Taking a deep breath to quell his rage, lest he become an Akuma himself, Chat gave

the dark-haired beauty in his arms a gentle squeeze to comfort her. "Losing is easy, winning takes bravery, and the kindest of whispers can seem cruel from those whom we consider our friends," he told her in a soft voice, kissing the top of her head to comfort her. Pulling back just a bit so that he could wipe away her tears with the back of his knuckles, careful not to scratch her with his claws, he stated, "You are one of the sweetest, kindest, and bravest people that I've ever known, Marinette."

"I don't feel very brave," she responded quietly with a pout, before burying her tear-stained face into his chest.

"But you are! You are so brave!" he cooed at her, gingerly running a clawed hand up and down her spine in an attempt to soothe. "Braver than I am, and I'm betting that you're even more brave than Ladybug."

That line earned him a snort.

Encouraged by that sound, Chat grinned as he continued to extoll her virtues. "I also have on very good authority that you are a very loyal and true friend. That is an extremely rare quality to have," he said as he gently pushed back her bangs, placing a feather-light kiss to her forehead.

Marinette shifted slightly in his hold, peeking up at him through her long, inky eyelashes. "Do you really think so?" she asked bashfully, a pink tinge highlighting the freckles that were scattered like stars across the bridge of her nose.

"I know so," he confirmed with a wry grin. "Didn't that Agreste kid call you an ‘Everyday Ladybug’ once?" he asked, his grin morphing into a smirk. "Trust me, there is no higher praise than that that I could think of."

'She really is adorable,' the errant thought swam across his stream of conscience.

His mind screeched to a halt.

‘Wait... what?’

After thinking it over for a moment, he came to the conclusion of ‘Well, it's true.’

The look of awe she gave him made him catch his breath. Her blue eyes seemed to grow larger, the color appearing to nearly glow. Her parted lips looked so soft too...

'Get a grip, Agreste!’ He admonished himself. ‘She’s your friend, and she’s hurting right now!'

He re-positioned her within his embrace, turning her until her back was against his chest, her head nestled against his left shoulder. He spied a black permanent marker within his reach and grabbed it, uncapping it with his teeth. Spitting out the cap, he reached for her right hand, softly asking, "May I?"

"What are you doing?" Marinette asked, placing it in his hand with trust in her gaze. Chat marveled at her bluebell stare for only a moment before returning his attention to the task at hand.

Nestling her delicate wrist within his large clawed hands like a treasured prize, he placed a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles, smiling fondly. "I just want to leave you a little reminder," he said as he turned the appendage, placing the marker's tip to the delicate skin of the inside of said wrist.

She struggled not to move, though she did flinch slightly at the cool feeling of the writing instrument’s ink against her skin. Her face burned slightly at the tenderness he was showing her, but that wasn’t what drew her attention.

It was the look on his face.

With his masked face twisted in concentration, the cat themed hero produced neat, careful hanzi on the designer's porcelain skin.

"There," he said with triumph and pride in his voice, drawing her attention to what he had been doing to begin with.

There, now decorating the once unmarked skin, were three simple but intricate Chinese characters

忠

勇

真

They were beautiful. And her silly, sweet, kind, destructive partner had put them there.

Chat Noir was indeed proud. It was his best try at the complicated writing system to date, so it only seemed fitting that it would look perfect against his friend’s gorgeous skin. "Now, whenever you feel down about everything you just told me about, I want you to look down at your wrist. For you are Loyal," he points at the first character, pausing for a moment before moving on to the next one. "Brave," he continued until he moved his clawed finger to the last of the three characters, "and True."

Tearing her gaze from the beautiful words now adorning her wrist, Marinette found herself drowning in gratitude and fondness for her partner. Turning her head slightly, she locked his peridot gaze with her azure, whispering, "Thank you, Chat Noir."

Feline eyes softened, and finding that his heart was beating just a tad harder for his dark haired friend, the boy beneath the mask replied just as quietly, "You're welcome, Marinette."

When it was time for him to leave, she followed him up to her balcony, bidding him goodnight. They shared one last hug before he leapt off of the balcony rail, performing some feat of aerial acrobatics to make her smile. Laughing at her partner’s antics, she leaned against the railing, taking in the balmy night air. Inhaling with the smile still on her face, she let her heart fill with gratitude once more to her partner. Letting out a long exhale, she found that her attention was once more drawn to the foreign words written along the inside of her wrist. She’d have to find a way to cover them up for tomorrow, but that was a problem for Future Marinette to worry about.

At this time, Tikki floated up out of hiding, making herself known to her holder before setting herself onto Marinette's shoulder. The Kwami took notice of the words now written on her chosen's appendage. "Well, that was a very nice thing that Chat Noir did for you, Marinette," she said approvingly.

"Yeah," Marinette replied, still staring down at the writing with a soft smile on her face. "It really... was..." she trailed off, the smile slowly slipping off of her face as she stared at her wrist more intently. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as the actions of her partner finally registered. "Tikki?" she asked, her voice a little higher in pitch than normal.

"Yes, Marinette?" the kwami answered, confusion coloring her voice as she floated in front of her wielder’s face to gage her expression. She was surprised to see the beginnings of panic etching themselves onto the designer’s countenance. “Marinette, what’s wrong?” Tikki asked, worry coloring her tiny features.

On the verge of hyperventilating, Marinette looked up to her with eyes wide and asked, "Why did Chat Noir write those words on my wrist in Chinese?!"

Love reading/writing fanfics and enjoy making/looking at fanart? Come join https://discord.gg/mlfanworks The Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server and meet our amazing community! Hope to see you all soon!

[taste-in-music]

My Favorite Hit Songs of 2019

This year’s crop of popular music was... absolutely bonkers? I mean, this year we had Billie Eilish crash into the mainstream, Lizzo managed to get multiple hits out of songs she released nearly three years ago, the Jonas Brothers made a comeback, and the longest-running #1 hit in Billboard history became a rap/country crossover that got its start on Tik Tok made by a complete nobody and the dad from Hannah Montana. I’m going to admit, this list was pretty hard to put together, as I found it hard to find 10 songs that I genuinely loved that were hits this year. Despite that, the sheer absurdity of this year’s popular music gave me a spark of hope going into the new decade. For this list, I’ll be selecting my favorite songs off of Billboard’s year end Hot 100 songs list. I’m ready to recount this year in music, so...

10) Sucker by Jonas Brothers I never watched the Jonas Brothers show or listened to their music back when they were big on Disney, so I’ve got no nostalgic investment in them. However, this was a fun comeback to watch play out. This song was pretty dang good for a while, with the funky guitars and the instantly catchy lyrics. It reminded me of “Feel It Still” by Portugal. The Man. Then it got the point where three separate radio stations were playing it at the same time, and now I can barely stand it. I think that after the radio releases this song from its clutches it will warm up on me again though, because I do like it overall.

9) Better by Khalid The strongest attribute of this song is its ATMOSPHERE. The beat, melody, and vocal delivery all compliment one another perfectly, combining to create a smooth, almost sexy sound that washes over you with ever listen. I also like the Daft-Punk-y vocoded lines that pop in at the end, they’re so unexpected and yet they fit in perfectly. I've always loved Khalid’s vocal timbre, it’s so chill and yet warm at the same time. The only thing I can’t praise about this is the lyrics, because I have no clue what they are. Khalid, bless his sweet soul, cannot enunciate. It’s the same problem I have with Ariana Grande. I love your voice, I want to know what you’re saying! 

8) Trampoline by SHAED Give me the hipster points, because guess who knew about this song before it was cool! I’ve loved SHAED’s music for some time now, so it’s been thrilling to watch this song climb the charts and for them to get the recognition and success that they deserve. While this song isn’t my favorite by them, (that slot would probably be reserved for “Perfume” or “Melt,”) it does showcase the group’s strengths, which are emotive vocals and glossy electronic production. I love the effervescent backing vocals and bubbling keys that pepper this song, it gives the song a floaty feel while still keeping it tense. 

7) Old Town Road by Lil Nas X ft. Billy Ray Cyrus I can’t think of a piece of music in recent memory that has captured the public’s attention so swiftly and so completely, and you know what? Sometimes something gets big because it’s good. This song, despite all the memes and jokes and radio play and oversaturation, never ever got old to me. Every time it comes on, it puts a giant, goofy smile on my face, and I sing along to the whole thing. I want Lil Nas X to stick around, but even if he doesn’t, I want what this song represents, genre blending, trend-bucking, and a sense of fuck-it fun, to stay.

6) bury a friend by Billie Eilish Out of all the strange hits we had this year, this was the weirdest one to hear on the radio. It doesn’t have a classic structure! It’s about the monster under your bed! It’s got nothing but a shuffle beat, bass, and the sound of dental drill! It just doesn’t belong on the airwaves next to songs like “ME!” or “I Don’t Care.” Despite that, I’m beyond happy that Billie Eilish is bringing a bit of emo weirdness to the mainstream, because if the success of her music, specifically this song, says anything, it’s that pop is heading in a far scarier and more experimental direction. And I’m on board with that. 

5) break up with your girfriend, i’m bored by Ariana Grande The groove on this song is fantastic. The combination of eerie synths, bass, reverbed backing vocals, and rolling snares makes it feel tight and controlled, but also loose and flowing at the same time. There was a lot of pushback against this song due the sentiment of the lyrics, but it’s not like Ariana is unaware that she’s the bad guy in this position. There’s enough indifference and sarcasm in her delivery to show that she’s self aware. This was probably my favorite out of the hit singles from the thank u, next era, (”thank u, next” is great but got a bit old to me, and I don’t care for “7 Rings.”) 

4) Circles by Post Malone  This is embarrassing to admit, because I rarely, if ever, enjoyed any music Post Malone has put out in the past. But this song just hits different. The instrumental feels more acoustic-driven and has a nice pulse to it, projecting a warmth and comfort that none of his other songs have. This was a perfect hit for Autumn, being chill and relaxing enough for Summer, but the underlying bass groove makes you want to move into the productive patterns of the school year. If Post Malone made more music like this I’d reckon I’d enjoy his music quite a bit. 

3) Dancing With A Stranger by Sam Smith ft. Normani Sometimes radio filler turns out to be spectacular. The ambiance this track builds is relaxing but in an otherworldly kind of way, forming a soundscape of echoing drums and whispering synths. I’ve always stood by the opinion that Sam Smith sounds really good with an electronic beat under them, it helps their great voice move in a more free-flowing way. Normani also sounds amazing on this song, her vocals dipping into smokier territory, and when the two sing together they play off one another’s performances with ease. 

2) Sweet But Psycho by Ava Max Who predicted this in their last year’s hit song’s list? This bitch! I was so happy to see this hit the U.S. charts, you have no idea. It was such a breath of fresh air in that it was so splashy, sugar-sweet, and unabashedly pop. The lyrics are some of the silliest of the whole year, (”she’s poison but tasty” makes me chuckle every time,) but it doesn’t matter. The addictive melodies and the earnestness in Ava Max’s performance make them sound like Shakespearean poetry, or at least like she believes that they’re Shakespearean poetry. 

Should Have Been Hits

Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift This should’ve been a single. I get why Taylor chose the singles she did, but this was primed to be a Summer smash, with the glossy synths and vocoded backing vocals and soaring chorus. We were robbed. Robbed, I tell you!

Graveyard by Halsey While “Without Me” got all the glory, this is my favorite of all the Halsey singles we’ve gotten so far by a wide margin. It’s the only one that I’ve made the conscious choice to listen to on my own time for one. I love the way the production rushes as the chorus hits, and the synths that sparkle throughout the verses, and Halsey’s reserved performance.

3 Nights by Dominic Fike This was a hit in the U.K., and I even heard it on a few alternative stations, so why no cross over? If there was any song that should have been the chill Summer hip hop hit, it should have been this. This song is weirdly addictive, the chorus is so inexplicably catchy that once you hear it one time through you will know all the words to it. 

Blame It On Your Love by Charli XCX ft. Lizzo When the mainstream decide that it didn’t need Charli XCX? Because it’s wrong, it needs her very, very badly. The success of “1999″ in the U.K., the name recognition, and the Lizzo feature should’ve been more than enough to boost this onto the charts, but I guess we didn’t want an instantly catchy and fun EDM pop song on the radio. Oh well. 

Motivation by Normani Normani and Lauren are my favorite Fifth Harmony members, so I’ve been rooting for their solo careers like nobody’s business. This single in particular had so much potential: a bouncy beat, a stamp of approval from Ariana Grande, and a kick-ass music video filled with impressive choreography. I hope this gets a bigger push into next year, because Normani is a wildly talented performer that deserves success outside of her collaborations. 

Guilty Pleasures

bad guy by Billie Eilish This was a good song, just not my favorite off the album, or of the hits, (I prefer ”bury a friend,” obviously, and “when the party’s over,” which made last year’s list.) Still, watching this idiosyncratic little tune become one of the biggest pop smashes of the year was enthralling. Like “bury a friend,” it was so strange to hear this on the radio. 

Close To Me by Ellie Goulding ft. Diplo & Swae Lee When a melody gets its claws in me, there’s nothing I can do about it. This is not Ellie Goulding at her best, (I’ll admit that I miss the days of “Lights,”) but the way she delivers the hook on this song is absolutely infectious. I’m not the biggest Swae Lee fan, but he’s fine here too. I never minded when this song came on the radio. 

This year was a bit of a roller coaster for me. Needless to say, there were several instances where I felt quite a bit of stress and insecurity, and oftentimes, I would turn to music to make myself feel better. There was one song in particular that a friend of mine, @hasanminajs​, introduced me to, that instantly became a beacon of self-appreciation and enjoyment to me throughout the year. And when I tell you that I have never been happier to hear a song on the radio than I have with this one, I'm telling the truth. 

1) Truth Hurts by Lizzo I have never rooted for a song’s success like I have for this one, and watching a hip hop track this bouncy, confident, and enigmatic climb the charts was an absolute joy. There are so many great punchlines in this song, from “why men great till they gotta be great?” to “I don’t play tag bitch, I’ve been it,” to the ever-iconic “I just took a DNA test, turns out, I’m 100% that bitch.” This song raised the standards for lyricism in the mainstream. I want Lizzo to be huge, I want her to be influential, I want her to be one of the biggest pop stars of the next decade if not longer. Everything about this song, from its production to its message to its performance makes me smile. And you know what? Sometimes that’s all that pop music needs to do. 

Do you agree with this list? What were your favorite hit songs of 2019? Leave a comment and let me know!

[vaguely-concerned]

TEMERAIRE LET’S READ: BLOOD OF TYRANTS, THE WILLIAM LAURENCE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT NG+ SPEEDRUN

- oh NO LAURENCE D:D:D:

I do love that one of his first realizations is that he’s definitely not dutch tho lol this dumbass remembered that he was english before he remembered his own name

- caught between OH NO TEMERAIRE (and it’s only page 9 it’s going to be one of those books huh) and laughing my ass off at the thought of him swooping into notoriously isolationist japan and yelling ‘HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN MY DAD???’

- “Yes,” [Laurence] said, unyielding, as he could not be otherwise. ahahahahaha way to summarize the entirety of old school!laurence with one fucking sentence

(I am very much enjoying this uh. ‘setback’ of his character actually? novik really did just roll him back to factory settings and went ‘now... from the top again, let’s see if you’ve been paying attention these last seven books’ haha. no one told me there’d be a test!!!!!!!!!!)

- Kaneko really has the patience and graciousness of a saint, @ laurence please... please try to be marginally less sketchy hm? (I guess his sheer obliviousness to how direly he comes across here must be why kaneko hasn’t dismissed him out of hand)

- y’know... at least laurence is in no position to have to worry about all this shit temeraire and the others are pulling. when people start talking about black-scaled celestials shaking the country to its very foundations he’ll be blissfully, innocently unaware. that’s something, I suppose... well who am I kidding we’ll 100% get a couple of paragraphs of him convincing himself this is all his fault somehow anyway

- . . . and His Majesty’s Government does not behave in such an underhanded a manner as to attack another nation with no warning or quarrel. aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha oh what a strange beautiful fantasy land you’ve been residing in for most of your life william laurence, hang on tight for the opium wars

- hahaha oh my god this is like a platonic version of that text post

temeraire: have you guys seen my dad??!?!

them: what does he look like?

temeraire, crying: beautiful and human and has gold buttons

- I take it all back old school laurence is such a tremendous idiot. just PRETEND you’re willing to cooperate at least you huge fuckign dummy, all you’d have to do was say something vague about how the ship can’t get too close to shore; it won’t actually help them and they’ll know it but you won’t make yourself look so unspeakably willfully suspicious

-  :( making me read things where temeraire is just hurting should be ILLEGAL actually

- NO LAURENCE STOP TRYING TO KICK LITERALLY EVERY POLITICAL HORNET’S NEST WITHIN REACH BAD BOY he is... a disaster but I love him and fear for him as a son so here I am anyway

- hahahahaha yeah wow laurence it sure would suck if you ever had to commit treason huh death probably would be preferable indeed

b o i

- i like that it took him like a week to even give a single thought to edith lol at least he remains aggressively himself

- I think temeraire basically just invented dragon baby photos and I can’t even think for how darling it is

also every dragon physician is delightful; they fear neither god, man nor huge ass patients who could swallow them in a bite

aw man I love gong su

- ahahahahahahah kiyo is the actual best I can’t breathe

KANPAI INDEED, MY LADY, MY LIEGE, I DON’T CARE WHAT ELSE HAPPENS I WOULD FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

Laurence was forced to at least moisten his lips in a show of accompaniment, and hope that he had indeed buried Caesar and not praised him, or for that matter raised him from the dead one act too soon; he was not perfectly sure. He did not think he had been this appallingly drunk since he had been a boy of twelve, trying to make good on every toast at his captain’s table. I. am. dying

thank you thank you thank you for the mental image of laurence drunkenly trying to stumble through the ‘friends, romans, countrymen’ speech as well as the entire rest of the play in a one-man performance

- oh no... I would die for junichiro, baby boy who loves his teacher SO MUCH ;____________; aaaaand there are laurence’s adoption instincts, I see, right on time <3 I like how they have had one actual conversation now and laurence is like ‘ah well nothing for it then guess you’ll have to stay on my ship and I’ll have to be your dad now, brash 16 year old child’

junichiro is being Full Teenager about laurence not knowing ~*obvious*~ things and it’s a delight

- y’know this period of japanese history is always portrayed in the west as paranoia and it could probably only be done because the country was a strict military dictatorship at the time... but having read oh, any history book ever, deciding that nope nah don’t think so no europeans ever is the greatest ‘fair enough’ in human history.  (...I guess this series is sort of AU fix it fic of the period in the first place haha)

- seeing temeraire this level of straight out angry is very interesting and also very unsettling

- ooooof whenever laurence almost-remembers temeraire... stab me in the heart why don’t you

- man churki really is the mom friend of these dragons she’s the only one who has a lick of sense

- *laurence, upon clobbering several men with an oar* “Ma’am, I beg your pardon,” Laurence said to the old woman, who was still sitting ramrod-straight in the ferry over the side from him and regarding him with a flat expression of utter disapproval and not the least evidence of fear; he put out a boot over the side and shoved the ferry off with a heave

god this book is just a continual parade of glorious mental images, just this old woman glaring at him like ‘RUDE’ and “Ma’am, I beg your pardon” fdslfhsdlkjh

- I have a lot of sympathy for hammond. imagine having to navigate the extremely delicate diplomatic situation between europe and japan, with the real prospect of a war breaking out over it, while temeraire is looking over your shoulder... real dragon in the glassware shop vibe going on here, i’m sorry about your life hammond

- AUGH laurence just sort-of-remembered emily he just half-remembered he basically has a daughter someone hold me (...junichiro is so so sweet ;___;)

- bwahahaha yeah I’m sure the only reason this impressionable young kid who’s slowly becoming very impressed by you has for sneaking glances at your bare chest is manly appreciation of your battle scars laurence, well done (I mean a supremely understandable innocent teen crush to develop but stay safely out of that, kid; I trust tharkay to survive the sheer field of mayhem around this man only because he’s got like 20 years, extreme competency and a world of cynicism on you)

- aw junichiro :(:(:(

- ...laurence you need to stop making your dragon boi think you’re dead because this is hurting me. my heart lies in sad little pieces on the ground right now. you are stepping on them with tapdancing shoes.

- “I am under an obligation to Junichiro,” [Laurence] said, quietly, “who you must know has aided me for love of you. If I surrender myself and am made prisoner in this way, will your honor be satisfied?”

fdsfhsdkfsdja  *ELMO SURROUNDED BY FLAMES GIF* this is all awful they’re all such good people why must this happen why this  

(what a way to remind me why I love this stupid wonderful man so much tho uuuuuugh)

- “He is a prince of China, and my captain.” “The devil I am,” said Laurence. This might be the funniest heartbreak I have ever experienced

- good job making me cry whenever I read the words ‘principia mathematica’ naomi novik that was real nice of you

- maximus is such a solid bro. not the brightest, but by god a good 80% of that boy’s gigantic body mass is pure heart

- I love the sheer trollishness of just dropping all these hints about whatever’s going on in the US and then moving on like nothing has happened lol at least it’s deeply implied that hamilton squandered his chances at the presidency by pulling his dumb hoe act in this universe too... constants and variables friends constants and variables

- bOY for a moment there I really did wonder if junichiro was going to die, thank god for a quick google to stop my heart from leaping up my throat and out into thin air to shatter yet again on the flagstones beneath

- in unrelated news I recently found out a bit more about the whole historical Situation in Australia at the beginning of Tongues of Serpents (incidentally, by reading Mark Forsyth’s ‘A Short History of Drunkenness’, which is very funny and quite interesting although I can personally testify that the chapter about vikings at least is completely riddled with misunderstandings or straight out factual errors about the mythology, the role of women in society and uh the entirety of how poetry worked so maybe take him with a pinch of salt lol), and now, in retrospect, I have to say Novik does a poor job conveying the sheer hilarity and madness going on at that time. Like. I was quite bored in those first few chapters, whenever Tharkay didn’t have page time. how could you make this incredible spectacular shitshow boring. it should have been easy comedy gold and not just like. misery. oh well great times, let’s return to the book at hand

- I remain utterly devoted to Lady Kiyo. livin’ life, drinking sake, giving no fucks, absentmindedly scoping out the western style ships and starting an entire modern navy for her country, getting some Theater up in here.... truly I would follow her into the jaws of hell itself, safely in the knowledge that she’d find some way to have a good time down there

- kaneko tearing up at laurence promising he’ll take care of junichiro 😭 this is so cruel to me, personally, specifically against my person, I am undone

- I like how the incan dragons are told like ‘don’t pick just one special person; you can love all your humans equally’ while the poor japanese ones are told ‘actually don’t love any of your humans very much at least not more than Honour’ lol they must have so many neurotic dragons running about b/c that when that attachment happens it seems extremely central to their psychology (and considering lady arikawa it’s not like they’re exempt from it, they’re just supposed to repress it to conform)

- laurence desperately trying to work out whether emily’s his daughter without actually asking anyone... delicious

the descriptions of roland’s letters: even more delicious

- temeraire sees the sad remnants of laurence’s robes and ‘hello darkness my old frieeeeend’ starts playing in his head... too bad laurence isn’t really in a position to experience the relief

- He is very much a one-note character, but O’Dea’s resolute dedicated fatalism is extremely funny

- hahaha poor temeraire... when you try to introduce bae to the family and they insist on being TOTALLY EMBARRASSING god

- The guilt of having caused pain to one deserving only consideration at his hand mingled with unanswered disquiet. I’m bawling laurence’s dad instincts are so pure and good even tho everything’s a bit messed up right now. like this whole paragraph is so powerful b/c you can see laurence’s natural loving impulse at war with his dad’s cold authoritarian parenting style and because his lived experience is removed he doesn’t know what is right.............. oh b o y

- oh okay I see my earlier comment about the opium wars proves unexpectedly prophetic

- it cannot be overstated how much I love junichiro or how happy I am that laurence is being so soft and patient with him. this kid has Been Through some shit

- emily roland shoulder to shoulder with laurence killing fools and he never doubts her for a moment... *chef kiss emoji*  

- the problem with these books is that there are just so many good characters and so many of them don’t get any real page time in any given one -- I’m sitting here plaintively like ‘I realize this is not the most pressing issue right now but how is demane and sipho doing. are they okay. does sipho have enough books’

- ouch memory loss isn’t stopping laurence from flashing back to victory of eagles :(

there’s something so disconcerting about knowing why laurence reacts to things the way he does when he doesn’t; novik is using that very efficiently, this is a very satisfying use of amnesia just from a writer’s POV haha

- I like how none of these suckers really have the tools (or in some cases even inclination) to understand how messed up junichiro’s political situation is in all this

they just expect him to come home to britain with them and meanwhile he’s just found out that The greatest threat to his nation (from his POV I mean china/japan relations irl seem uh complicated) has more dragons in one field than he’s ever seen in his life. it’s a rough and lonely deal being this kid in this book

- oh ouch yes hey there laurence there might have been... a little bit of treason. true. extremely justified treason tho. I mean. oh dear

we don’t have tharkay and his unique mix of deep cynicism, incisive sarcasm and surprising depth of concise moral clarity here to assist with the aftermath so this could get  u g l y

- listen what did I SAY about making me read about temeraire being miserable     :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

- SIPHO!! hey baby boy pls have some thought for your brother’s cardiac health tho

- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw the fact that laurence is getting out of this crisis so much quicker this time because of his bone-deep instinctual knowledge of how much he loves temeraire, which doesn’t need specific memories to be true and felt. god. jesus. stars above

- laurence: approaches little

little: gay panic

- [Laurence] groped after the truth of himself like a prisoner in Plato’s cave, watching shadows. *clenches fist with great emotion* fuck naomi novik why must you be such an excellent goddamn writer im in pain

- oh hay arkady

poor poor temeraire feeling like a failure in every way is so awful but also kind of funny. ‘oh shit arkady’s egg oh fuck oh crap’

- I LOVE that hammond is so clearly and repeatedly shown to be a very astute political thinker and working shit out before everyone else! he may be a dumbass and a bit of a weasel but by god he’s great at what he does!

- laurence wouldn’t have changed anything if he could u guise. I . that. hm. oh

- thARKAY

.........arkady I am only a human and a small one at that but I will find some way to climb up there and wring your neck

(how cute is it that apparently jane roland realized she needed someone to find laurence and was like ‘well I need someone who can take care of themselves and knows the area and speaks dragon and Understands the chaotic ways of william laurence and also has looked uncharacteristically like a kicked puppy at the very mention of his name ever since being forced to leave him behind in australia.... hey tharkay you want a job’ fhkjshdfkalhsd)

- I’m very glad I googled ahead and spoiled myself a bit on this, because if I just read this part fresh I would have expired on the spot

- MISSION GET MY BOY BACK SAFE FOR GOD’S SAKE is a go

- general chu is pretty cool for an old dude you feel me

- . . . and Laurence knew him; knew him and knew himself.

ahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha

hahahahahahahhahahahaha

hahahahhha

haha

what... what pure undiluted soulmate nonsense is this. what. how. WHY would you do this

- I think I said something offhandedly in my victory of eagles reactions about how tharkay makes laurence remember who he is. I. thought I was exaggerating slightly for dramatic effect at the time. um wow

- I am having the sort of feelings about I need to write fiction about because my ability to express it any other way is failing me. That’s just about the highest praise I could give, really, Novik sure knows how to plant interesting seeds in her stories lol

- for the record this is not how I wanted him to end up in laurence’s bed

(im not thinking too much about how he got hurt b/c if I do I’ll start crying and that’ll just be embarrassing for everyone)

- “I hope you will forgive my mentioning it, Will,” Tharkay said, eventually, rousing Laurence from his reverie. “ -- I recognize there is a certain pot-calling quality to my doing so under the circumstances, but have you noticed that the top of your head appears likely to come off?”

a) my love for him is just. so pure. so complete. so deep b) consistent first name basis; the one sure way to make me swoon c) the implication that he’s just been quietly watching laurence while he was lost in thought... im so soft

- oh god laurence very gently helping out demane and roland because he remembers now....... i cry and my tears are blood welcome back buddy

- “I am of the opinion,” Tharkay said, “that you ought not assign to free will something more likely the consequence of a sharp blow to the skull.”

he truly is the gift that keeps giving. an endless cornucopia of sarcasm and delight. we do not deserve him.  

- [The man he was eight years ago] would not have valued his own feelings, on such a matter, higher than the law and the discipline of the service. *AIRHORN AIRHORN AIRHORN* there we have it folks that’s literally his character arc spelled out, he would have done SO MUCH BAD SHIT because he thought his own feelings didn’t matter and yet he chose another direction, stupendous, brilliant, revolutionary

also him trying to get his support across to both of them in as roundabout and discreet way as possible... laurence you beautiful disaster

- im just so happ. so happy. so happy temeraire has his dumb dad back

- oh so the russians think the BRITISH, of all people, are too soft on their dragons... ruh-roh

- sdfskadlfj yes good tharkay the ROBES (also the implied depth of fond schadenfreude-tinged amusement contained in that ‘those particularly magnificent robes’.... *prayer hands emoji*)

laurence is like ET TU BABE?????

I think this is very delicate gong su speak for ‘please do not be a dumb bitch your majesty’

hahaha chu knows what’s up -- I am growing desperately fond of him, please don’t have him suffer any cop-one-day-from-retirement style accident

- “If I may cut your Gordian knot,” Tharkay said, with a glint in his eye. fdsklfhsdkflhdsakjfhdskjh remember back in black powder war when he was all closed off and phlegmatic and purposefully distant... and here he is... with a glint in his eye and a crazy ass plan that requires other people and that he actually shares before pulling it off and calling laurence by first name in public......... we’ve come so far

- Also this means he’s close enough to Laurence’s height and build that he can wear his clothes without it looking weird, which is nice to know because Laurence is sometimes more preoccupied with describing what men are wearing than, y’know, what they look like lol. (probably not quite as broad in the shoulders, tho, since it’s pointed out every time laurence is described that he has shoulders like a linebacker)

- temeraire: eXCUSE me god didn’t do this the emperor of china did???!?! rude???

- pffffffffff tharkay and chu being jaded world-weary bros for a second there... this is what I read these books for folks

- NOOOOOOOOOOO chu this is the one thing I asked you NOT to do D: temeraire being sad and scared about it is slowly murdering me, thank god laurence is back online for him

- dunno this napoleon dude sounds pretty great and all but this also sounds suspiciously... like trying to invade russia in the winter time. immovable force and unstoppable object or something. I mean I don’t read history so I don’t know. might be a great idea. who’s to say.

- I see that tharkay and laurence have reached the ‘communicating complex information solely through eyebrow movements’ stage of their relationship. *drinks this excellent excellent OTP juice with both hands*

- god I love how cool temeraire!napoleon is, in a strangely believable way. he’s just so weirdly charismatic and novik is SO GOOD at setting up a situation so you understand just how brilliant a move he’s made whenever he seems to be backed into a corner and turns it all around. I kind of want him to win at this point (though tbf all of europe fucking sucked at this time so like he doesn’t have to doll it up TOO much to look better by comparison haha)

- boooyyyy Laurence is P I S S E D (also him being like ??? :D that the general basically agreed with him lol)

ALSO also the fact that laurence does not realize that he’s like the fucking horror story all the major authorities around the globe tell each other at night... fjksdfhsdkjlhf

ah russia. truly consistently one of the most shit places to be a peasant or apparently a dragon through so much of history.

- junichiro Y__________Y no wonder laurence is so protective of him, he’s finally met someone as stubbornly stupidly ~*honorable*~ as himself. godspeed bb boy I wish you only the best even though I know your story line is never properly brought up again

- I ship... roland and demane... so much. like with my heart. she’s so young and earnest and curious and misses him so much and casually scandalizes alice about it fsjdakfjhds

- well I mean. dragons eating people is clearly not  g r e a t  but also... karma. y’know?

- this is a lot of words to use to convey the sentiment ‘oh they are all so fuuuuuuuuuuuuucked’ naomi novik

(feels a little like she wrote herself into a corner here tho -- she’s set up such an impossible situation, in RUSSIA in the WINTERTIME, that I’d need a hell of a lot of convincing to believe they get out of it)

- aaaah okay I really enjoyed this one too, especially the first half! I feel like this series is often at its most inspired when it sticks to a tighter character focus (for example I still vividly recall the part in the first book where Laurence stays in his father’s house and it’s Bad. relatedly........ F U C K lord allendale), and this brought that in spades. I love this series so much, it’s shamefully underappreciated in the speculative fiction world.

also it brought *me* to my knees with a simple “Tenzing,” [Laurence] said, which... holy shit. fuck. damn. that’s my personal recommendation of this book, tbh, even beyond my wish for this series to be more appreciated within the genre: Tharkay was there and it was very gay and non-obnoxious soulmate vibes???? I never even thought it could be done but here we are

This is probably going to be my last reaction thingy for the foreseeable future, since my local library doesn’t have book 9 and honestly... having read a few summaries of what happens in it I’m not that keen on reading it? That’s not the ending to this story I want, so I’ll just live over here in denialville, I-realize-the-author-made-the-choice-to-not-make-further-use-of-Lien-AKA-THE-coolest-antagonist-in-this-series-and-indeed-did-not-wrap-up-numerous-character-arcs-or-plot-lines-but-I-don’t-like-this-choice-so-I’ll-ignore-it

(actually I do sort of appreciate the idea of not having one grand final duel or something, because that’s not how it usually works in real life, but that she’d just shrug and not mercilessly hunt for the revenge she’s so clearly motivated by when everything she loves is falling apart around her again... that’s too much of a letdown to bear, really)

let me just... live in willful ignorance and pretend anything could happen from this point onward haha.

- let me give a final shout out to my boy gong su, who’s been hanging around since book 2 (!) and yet we do not know One Single personal detail about him for certain except that he sure knows how to handle knives. that’s some good spy shit right there, he knows what he’s about

[frizz22]

Hi, Prompt here. I was wondering if you could write a piece where Hilda is sleeping and having a nightmare about her time at the Academy. “The Harrowing” that Zelda caused Since she was so ruthless & in her sleep Hilda almost kills Zelda until Ambrose & Sabrina helps Zelda wakes her up. Thank you!

I actually got 2 Spellman sister harrowing prompts at the same time, so I combined them. Anon and @littlest-moon-girl, I hope you still enjoy it! Read on ao3

Prompt 2: The sisters remember their own harrowings and for the first time Hilda wonders if her sister had been harrowed once too. Zelda doesn’t want to ever think of those three nights again. Thanks       

Side note: Greendale 13 hasn’t happened yet, so harrowing was based on the earliest witch trials.  

Maybe, in years to come, they’d blame the incident on the fact that Sabrina had just been harrowed; drudging up memories and picking at old scars. Or maybe, they’d blame Batibat, the sleep demon, for playing with their minds and leaving them exposed and vulnerable to other nightmares.

Hilda was sure Zelda would still blame herself, but after the talk they had, Hilda found it easier to accept the apologies her sister had given her. If nothing else, she now understood so much more than she had before.

It’d all started a few nights after Batibat trapped them, no one was sleeping very well; but even then, Hilda knew her reaction was extreme. 

A nightmare plagued with the events if her harrowing had flooded her dreams, and apparently propelled Hilda out of her bed and over to where her primary tormentor slept. It wasn’t until Ambrose and Sabrina were shouting and yanking on her that Hilda woke, groggy and confused. Shaking her head, Hilda took in her surroundings and it was then that she realized she was partially straddling her sister—who was coughing and rubbing her throat.

Evidently, Hilda had wrestled Zelda off her bed and proceeded to choke her. Only the resulting crash from them hitting the floor woke the kids and had them running—praise Satan they had. Horrified, Hilda quickly leveraged herself completely off her sister, apologies falling from her lips as she attempted to explain she’d been dreaming of her harrowing.

Gasping, Zelda waved away Ambrose’s attempt to help her up and she refused Sabrina’s offer of tea. Standing slowly, Zelda turned to them. “We’re sorry for waking you. Thank you for your help, but you can go back to bed.” She instructed, voice a little hoarse. The two just gaped at Zelda and then started to argue, but a glare from her sister had them fleeing.

Hilda made to apologize again, but Zelda shook her head. “It’s nothing I don’t deserve,” she countered with a rasp, hand still massaging her throat. Sitting on the bed a little heavily, Zelda swallowed with a slight grimace. “I think some tea is in order, yes?” She finally brought her gaze to Hilda’s and her expression was carefully blank. “Would you like some, perhaps with a little foxglove? I can start the kettle.”

Nodding uncertainly, Hilda trailed after Zelda down to the kitchen. As her sister moved around the room readying the tea, Hilda cautiously leaned against the counter next to her. “Zelds,” she started, guilt still gnawing her insides.

“No need to apologize, Hilda. As I said, it’s nothing I don’t deserve.” Her voice was recovering, but she still barely met Hilda’s eyes. “Besides, harrowing is on everyone’s mind at the moment, I can hardly blame you for having it on yours.”

She wrapped her arms around her middle and nodded slowly before moving to sit, only to stop and turn to look at Zelda. “How is it on your mind?”

“Hmm?” But the noise was too strained for it to come off as nonchalant as Zelda likely planned.

Undeterred by Zelda’s vagueness, Hilda pressed on. “Harrowing. How is it on your mind, Zelda?”

Sniffing, Zelda lifted the kettle from the stove just as it began to whistle. “Well, because Sabrina, of course.” She muttered, busying herself with the cups and sugar.

“Oh, okay.” Hilda slowly took a seat and watched her sister closely, and when Zelda joined her, setting the kettle between them for refills, Hilda noticed a slight tremor in Zelda’s chin. And it suddenly dawned on her that her sister may have harrowing on her mind for a reason she’d never shared… Zelda had been harrowed as well. Carefully taking a sip of tea, Hilda squared her shoulders and faced Zelda. “Tell me the truth.” Zelda blinked and when she opened her mouth, likely to lie again, Hilda leveled her with a glare. “I think you owe it to me to be truthful, here, Zee.”

It was a bold move, stating Zelda owed her when only ten minutes ago Hilda had been choking her. But it was the only card she had to play and to Hilda’s astonishment, it worked.

A shuddering exhale escaped Zelda and she clasped her hands on top of the table, her knuckles going white. “I, harrowing it’s, it’s on my mind because of Sabrina. But her harrowing isn’t all I’m thinking about…. I’m also thinking about my own.” Zelda shifted uncomfortably but kept talking. “Sabrina having to endure a harrowing, it unburied some painful memories; as you experienced yourself.” Dropping her eyes in shame, Zelda traced a whorl in the table. “Speaking of your nightmare, I owe you an explanation for why I did that to you.” Zelda blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. “They, my harrowers, they told me they would harrow me again if I didn’t help. And I couldn’t…. not again.”

Hilda had never seen her sister so pale and twitchy, and in that moment, Zelda reached for a cigarette out of habit, only to realize she didn’t have them on her. Drumming the table with her fingers, Zelda bit her lip before continuing. “So, to avoid a repeat performance, I agreed to help. And I made sure to harrow you properly, otherwise they’d claim it didn’t count and harrow me again regardless. I was ruthless and cruel, and I protected myself where I should’ve protected you. I’m sorry.”

She sat there a moment in stunned silence before getting up and grabbing the first bottle of alcohol she could find. Hilda added it to their already foxglove laden tea, not caring how it would taste. “Well.” She said, talking a long sip.

“Yes.” Zelda added, sniffing and pressing her fingers into the corners of her eyes to try and prevent any tears.

Twisting her fingers, Hilda tried to catch Zelda’s eye. “What did they do to you?” She asked softly, reaching over and taking her sister’s hand. “To put such a fear in you?” To make you think harrowing me was the only option, she mentally added.

Eyes going wide, Zelda shook her head and pulled her hand back. “Hildie, I relive those nights often enough in my dreams. I’d rather not dwell on the memories while awake.”

Hilda pressed her lips together and looked at Zelda beseechingly. “Perhaps talking about it will help with the nightmares… and, it’ll help me understand and work through my own experience as well.” It was unfair, taking advantage of her sister’s guilt. But Hilda wanted, and frankly deserved, a better, more detailed answer than the one Zelda was providing.

Frowning, Zelda took a deep, fortifying drink of her spiked tea. “I suppose I do know what happened to you, so it’s only fair you know what happened to me.” Though that wasn’t quite what Hilda had been going for, but if it was easier for Zelda to see it as a transaction, then she’d let it be. Taking another drink, Zelda started to talk; and though her eyes were locked on the table, Hilda knew she was seeing something far away.

~~~~~~~~~

239 years ago

The first night they cast a spell on her while she’d still be asleep—only one of them pinning her to the bed woke her and she’d been terrified at her inability to move, to speak, to undo the spell. Cackling, the trio had, quite literally, dragged her out of bed and into the forest surrounding the school; her back had been a bloody mess when they finally dropped her completely and released the spell.

 Zelda took great gulping breathes, though she’d been able to breath under the spell, it’s been restricted. When she sat up, the girls were smiling maliciously at her, a tall wooden post reaching up behind them.

 They’d gone on to explain how witches of the past were burned at the stake for their abilities, often gagged and bound to prevent any spellcasting that might spare their lives. And if Zelda wanted to be a true witch, then she too, must be burned at the stake—walk in the footsteps of their ancestors.

 On some level, Zelda knew that they weren’t really going to burn her alive. But as they tied her to the stake, ropes cutting unforgivingly into her wrists, ankles and neck, Zelda couldn’t suppress the wave of panic that swept through her. Witches had died from harrowings before, after all.

 Then the trio stepped back, smirking at her, and set the pile of kindling underneath her ablaze. And while she’d been right, the fire wasn’t real, the pain was real enough. But Zelda didn’t cry out in pain, something telling her that doing so would admit defeat.

 And so, she’d remained silent, twisting against the ropes, digging her nails into the stake until splinters buried themselves into her skin and nailbeds in an attempt to hold back her screams and whimpers. By the time dawn finally came, Zelda’s skin was chafed raw where she’d been bound, and the rest of her body was covered in stinging welts—mild reminders of what could have been charred skin and bone her tormentors informed her sweetly.

 But she hadn’t screamed, hadn’t cast any spells to try and free herself… so she passed and the welts stung and burned for several more hours before fading; disappearing just in time for her tormentors to inflict new ones.

 They didn’t bind her on the second night, and part of Zelda wished they had. It would have been much easier to be dragged off somewhere instead of having to obediently walk to her own torture session.

 This time they stopped next to a river, and the girls told her to hold still as they wound ropes around her torso and legs, effectively preventing her from moving. They’d told her that mortals once believed that if a witch was thrown into any body of water, that she’d float. Because witches spurned the false god’s holy water upon baptism, so to must other forms of water spurn witches in return. A ridiculous mortal theory, of course, but the drownings cost many witches their lives and now Zelda must also experience what countless witches before her had.

 Casting a spell so that she would stay at the bottom of the river, they threw her into the water where she promptly sunk. Zelda remained underwater for what felt like an eternity, her lungs burning and head floating from the lack of oxygen. And even though she told herself not to, after what had to be over two minutes, Zelda’s mouth opened involuntarily, searching desperately for air but only water flooded in. Her body bucked in the water and everything went black.

 She woke coughing violently and throwing up water. The girls laughed at her and then tossed her back in. The cycle repeated countless times, they’d throw her into the water, let her struggle and only reel her back in when she started to convulse in order to revive her.

 Zelda wasn’t proud to admit that she begged after the fifth time they brought her back. Throat burning, head heavy, nose running and shivering, Zelda pled with them to not throw her back in. The words only increased her tormentor’s glee and they happily deposited her back into the river.

When they fished her out the final time, the girls untied her and left her on the bank of the river as they headed back to the academy, chatting. Zelda didn’t move for some time, other than to cough and shiver. Her limbs felt like lead and getting up and returning to the dorms took Zelda nearly double the time it normally would have.  

 Eventually, though, Zelda forced herself to go back, drenched and exhausted, Zelda skipped classes for the rest of the day and slept.

 If she’d had the energy, Zelda would have used the knife under her pillow to keep her harrowers away that night. But her body still hadn’t fully recovered from the previous night and so Zelda let them led her back into the woods, her feet catching on roots, rocks and just the ground at times.

The final task, they informed her, was to search for a witch’s mark. The mortals had gotten one thing right in their pursuit of witches, they’d discovered that witch’s marks didn’t bleed. And while they may have determined that much, mortals had never been very good at identifying what was truly a witch’s mark and what wasn’t.  

 So, in tribute to their ancestors, the girls would search Zelda for a mark—but they’d have to be just a thorough as the mortals long gone. Each of them produced a large needle, stripped Zelda down to nothing and proceeding to jab every mole, freckle and birthmark they could find to see if it bled.

 With her complexion, Zelda had countless freckles across her shoulders and back, especially after a summer in the sun. By the end of it, her body was littered with needle pricks, blood collecting slowly from the small wounds into drops before rolling down her skin.

 She only grimaced at some of the particularly vicious jabs, but otherwise remained stoic, managing to go away inside her mind—at least partially. And perhaps it was custom, or maybe the girls were feeling especially cruel and spiteful because of her lack of reaction, but as the sun was raising, they knocked Zelda off her feet and exclaimed that the soles of her feet were covered in potential marks and proceeded jab their needles into her feet, leaving them raw and throbbing.  

 When the sun was fully risen, they vanished their needles and eyed Zelda appraisingly. “Looks like you’re one of us after all.” They muttered, almost sounding disappointed that she’d passed, before the trio teleported back to the school.

 Practically sobbing in relief that it was over, Zelda pulled her clothes back on and hobbled back to the dorm.

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

Hilda stared at her sister, unable to think of what to say. The details of Zelda’s harrowing were clearly seared into her brain, just as clearly as the details of Hilda’s were imprinted into hers. And yet… and yet, Hilda did not remember experiencing the same things.

She remembered the stake, the flames licking at her skin, the pain; she even remembered the leftover welts. What she couldn’t recall were those welts aching, burning and stinging for the rest of the day before they disappeared.

And for the second night, Hilda had been repeatedly thrown into the river as well. But not once had she been resuscitated because her harrowers had let her truly drown.

As for the third night, Hilda didn’t have the same complexion as her sister, her skin at the time relatively clear of any marks and Zelda had been adamant about only pricking those.

Without meaning to, Zelda had revealed something else to Hilda in her retelling. Her sister had revealed that she’d spared Hilda to an extent; made it appear as though Hilda was experiencing the full brunt of harrowing but in reality, she’d helped her.

Gently, Hilda took her sister’s hand once more and squeezed. “Thank you.” She whispered.

Taken aback, Zelda stared at her as though she were crazy. “For what?” She asked, baffled.

“For sharing. For being honest. For apologizing, again. For, for sparing me what little pain you could.” Hilda murmured, knowing that while this knowledge and the apologies never could completely erase the trauma she’d experienced during the harrowing, it softened the blow that it had all happened at her sister’s hands.

Swallowing hard, Zelda looked away and blinked away some tears. “I should never have let them threaten me into doing it. But I couldn’t drown again, Hildie. That second night… it almost broke me. It came so close.” She whispered, slugging back the rest of her tea.

Nodding in understanding, Hilda finished her drink as well and stood. Slowly, the sisters made their way back upstairs to bed, hands linked. And though the words didn’t change the deed, perhaps it could change how they interacted moving forward.

At the very least maybe they’d stop trying to kill one another.

[chiseler]

Lost in the Blues: The Search for Dyin’ Dog

In June of this year, an unidentified seller posted a Jewel Records promo single on eBay. The asking price was $20. The simple accompanying description read:

“DJ PROMO RECORD 45 rpm  70s blues/R&B . Condition is Used. Bought this puppy at an estate sale for the late, great Stan Lewis. The artist is Dyin' Dog; I never heard of him but it's a pretty good record. I picked up two of them and thought I'd see what it's worth. It's a hand cut acetate DJ promo so I figure it must be pretty rare. Date on the label is 1975.”

This was only the second time I had seen proof of the physical existence of a Dyin’ Dog recording. I immediately contacted the seller, who informed me the single was “Bury My Bone” b/w “River Runs Dry,” but he was unable to tell me anything more.

It’s not surprising the seller, or anyone else, doesn’t remember raucous Louisiana blues singer Dyin’ Dog, as he never officially released any records, and never performed in public.

My own search for Dyin’ Dog, whose real name, I’ve since learned, may or may not have been Alvin Snow, began back in 2008, after stumbling across another Jewel promo 45 at a record fair in Jersey City, NJ. Like the seller on eBay, I had never heard of Dyin’ Dog, but the fact I hadn’t heard of him piqued my interest, along with the fact it had been a Jewel release. The seller, who was from Arkansas and specialized in rare indie label blues and R&B singles from the Sixties and Seventies, could tell me nothing about the artist, and couldn’t even remember how he’d come across the promo in the first place.

I brought the record home and put it on the turntable. As rough and minimalist as the production was, I could tell immediately this was unlike any other standard blues being produced in the mid-Seventies, or any other time. In spite of the modern instrumentation, it was raw and primitive, the song structure more akin to the American proto blues coming out of the rural South  of the Twenties than the more urbane sounds coming out of the New Orleans or Chicago scenes in later decades.

Overpowering the band was Dyin’ Dog himself, a voice that shrieked and roared a howl of the most abject anguish from the lower depths of some personal hell we hope we never know. The Howlin’ Wolf influence was clear, but Dying Dog, whoever he was, had taken what Howlin’ Wolf wrought and dragged it with heavy iron chains into much darker, much more horrifying territory, some barren landscape where redemption is not possible.

After all my years of researching the mostly forgotten corners of blues history, how was it I never heard of him? I went to the bookshelf and pilled down all the standard reference works—Kunstler, of course,The Cambridge Guide to Blues and Gospel, Nothing But the Blues, several years worth of the journal American Music and a few others—but search as I might there was absolutely no mention anywhere of any performer who went under the name “Dyin’ Dog.” I did an Internet search, and not only were there no recordings posted anywhere, there was no mention of this character. Had I heard a ghost on that record? Maybe more likely a demon.

The next obvious step was to contact Stan Lewis.

In 1948, Lewis opened Stan’s Record Store in Shreveport, Louisiana. Within a few years the store had expanded into a minor regional chain, and by the end of the Fifties Stan’s Record Store, with it’s huge selection of titles across every popular genre you can imagine, had become the largest mail-order music shop in the American South.

Deciding to expand the operation, in 1964 Lewis founded Jewel Records (joined soon thereafter by the subsidiary labels Ronn and Paula). Lewis signed hundreds of acts—country, R&B, jazz, blues, gospel, rock’nroll, whatever sold—and his stable of artists included, among others, The Blind Boys of Alabama, Memphis slim and John Lee Hooker.

After a successful twenty-year run, Lewis was forced to declare bankruptcy in 1983. In the late Nineties all of Jewel’s master tapes were obtained by the online company eMusic, and at present the rights to the entire Jewel catalog are held by a New York-based holding company, Fuel 2000. Lewis himself passed away in July of 2018 at age 91, which explains the above-mentioned estate sale.

I had the opportunity to speak with Lewis two or three times in the Nineties while researching other Jewel acts. He’d always been friendly and willing to offer as much as he could, so I reached out again in 2009 to see what he could tell me about Dyin’ Dog.

When I’d spoken with him earlier, Lewis could not only share entertaining anecdotes about any act I was curious about, he could cite contract details and sales numbers from memory. But when I mentioned Dyin’ Dog he drew a complete blank. He had no memory of him whatsoever. I even played the single over the phone hoping that might spark something, some kind of memory, but while he admitted he was clearly impressed with the performance, the name rang no bells. He did, however, invite me to pore through the Jewel archives in Shreveport to see what I could find.

The voice I’d heard on that record, guttural, unearthly, scraped to the sinew, continued to haunt me. I couldn’t even tell if Dyin’ Dog was black or white. I had to find out who was behind that sound, and how he got there.

I was able to schedule a trip to Louisiana two months later, and after a week of digging through cardboard boxes overflowing with contracts, press releases and sales reports, I at last came across my first solid lead. In a brief series of correspondence dated early 1975, a young musician named Roland Sheehan sang the praises of a wild new blues singer he was working with. The description sounded decidedly like Dyin’ Dog, though the name Sheehan used was “Alvin Snow.” More exciting still, another note from Sheehan made reference to some demos recorded by Snow and a small band headed by Sheehan on keyboards. He mentioned a few titles—“The Dog’s Dream,” “Pass for White”—which made me even more excited. In his encouraging response, Lewis, who was clearly acquainted with Sheehan, tentatively agreed to put Jewel behind Snow, adding, “But need to do something about the name. And the cursing. He curses too much.”

That was it. There was no further correspondence, no evidence the records were ever released. No press releases, no sales reports, nothing at all. Just those tantalizing hints Dyin’ Dog/Alvin Snow was real.

The next step was to contact Sheehan. He was not hard to find. He was still alive and living in Ruston, Louisiana. With no important business pulling me back to New Jersey, I rented a car in Shreveport and drove seventy miles to the north, to a small town near the Louisiana Tech campus. It was a typically sultry Louisiana afternoon in late July when I knocked on Sheehan’s door. He invited me in and offered me a beer.

Unlike Lewis, Sheehan, a burly man of 58 at the time with the unmistakable accent of a native, could remember Snow well, and was eager to talk about him.

“”Yeah, Alvin and Dyin’ Dog were the same,” Sheehan confirmed. “But Dyin’ Dog came along later. Close to the end. That was Stan’s idea. He thought Alvin needed a bluesier name, so we were Dyin’ Dog and the Mongrels.”

He said he first encountered Snow on the street in Ruston around 1974. Sheehan was in his early twenties and had been playing keyboards for a local blues rock band called The Alliance. He recalls that when he first saw Snow, he mistook him for Johnny Winter.

“He was hard to miss,” Sheehan said. “Ruston’s an itty-bitty town, and you don’t see many albinos just walking down the street here.”

I nearly did a spit take. Dyin’ Dog was an albino?

“Yeah,” Sheehan nodded. “White hair, chalky white skin, everything. Except he had these real pale blue eyes, not pink.”

What really caught his attention, he said, was less Snow being an albino than the song he was singing.

“Just belting it out as he was walking down the street. Screaming it almost. But he was good, like nothing I’d heard.”

So Sheehan stopped him, and the two started talking about music.

“I never really learned that much about him. His personal life or past or anything. He told me once he was raised in an orphanage, but that was it. I think he may have mentioned that his mom was black and his dad was white, or maybe the other way around, I’m not sure. I do remember his birthday was January thirteenth. Always liked to say he was born on Friday the thirteenth. I think it was 1938 or ’39, but I could be wrong. He was living with this nice older lady who had some money. We all just knew her as Miss Lillian. She really loved him. And he had this little dog. Chester, after Chester Burnet. I think someone had abandoned it or something. Its back legs were crippled, so Alvin made it this little cart or chariot or whatever. A thing with wheels so it could pull itself around. Ugliest little thing you ever seen, but Alvin was crazy about it.”

The picture that was coming together of Dyin’ Dog/Alvin Snow in no way corresponded with the picture I’d imagined after hearing that single, but that shouldn’t have surprised me.

Snow, Sheehan said, had a headful of songs, but didn’t know how to read or write music and couldn’t play any instruments, so the two of them would get together and Snow would hum or sing and Sheehan would transcribe the music.

“It was really wild stuff, really not like anything else. And if you’ve heard his voice you know. I mean he worshipped Howlin’’ Wolf. Really almost literally worshipped the guy, but I think he was doing something different.”

Sheehan pulled together a small backup band and they began rehearsing.

“Everything was coming together. We recorded ten or twelve demos at little studios in Shreveport, places Stan liked to use. I had Stan interested. And then I set up this show. It was going to be kind of a showcase with Dyin’ Dog and The Mongrels opening for my band The Alliance. That was gonna be in January of ’76. The thirteenth, Alvin’s birthday. But then he vanished just a couple days before. No word, nothing. E just vanished.”

Sheehan says a number of things happened in the weeks before Snow disappeared. His beloved dog died in an accident. Then Miss Lillian, the older woman he was living with, passed away on January tenth, three days before his first live show. And though it may be nothing but a strange coincidence, Howlin’ Wolf/Chester Burnett died the same day as Miss Lillian.

“To Alvin, that must’ve been like hearing God Almighty himself had up and died,” Sheehan commented.

Sheehan never saw or heard from Snow again. He also claimed to have no knowledge of what became of the master tapes of those first and only demos.

The ten years following my research trip to Louisiana witnessed enough detours, dead ends, red herrings and smashed hopes to fill a very long and frustrating book. Even with what I presume was his real name and his date of birth, record searches yielded nothing. I can find no information at all about Snow dating either before or after his time in Ruston, ca. 1974-’75.  You would think there would be at least some mention somewhere of an albino named Alvin Snow, whether or not he was still singing, but it was like he had emerged from that barren landscape I heard on that first record, then returned there again.

But now with the emergence of a second promo recording, it’s clear the story isn’t over yet. Someday, I’m confident, we may know what he did those first three and a half decades before he materialized singing on a Louisiana street, and what became of him afterward. Or maybe he’ll join the enigmatic ranks of Emmet Miller and Henry Thomas, and these two remarkable singles will remain the only record we’ll ever have.

by Paul Lyllyde

[breakingarrows]

Replaying Ace Combat 04: Shattered Skies

[This was originally published on VerticalSliceMedia.com in 2018 and is republished from the latest draft I have]

Ace Combat 4: Shattered Skies is a surprising game in that it not only carefully balances arcade style gameplay with a somber narrative but that the narrative itself reaches so deep into certain themes of war and aspects of the gameplay reinforce that. Playing a silent protagonist who only goes by the callsign Mobius 1, the weight of the story is not yours to bear but instead falls on a man relaying the story of his childhood and his interactions with the enemy during that time.

Since Ace Combat 4 is not focused on the reasons behind why wars are started (that is reserved for its sequel: The Unsung War) we are presented with the very simplest of details at the outset. The Erusians invaded ISAF territories and expulsed them from the continent. Erusia was aided by perverting the Stonehenge installation, a series of giant cannons designed to shoot down incoming meteors that threatened the continent in the past, and repurposed them as long range anti-air weapons. ISAF was eventually forced to retreat to an area labeled North Point but not before many battles were fought on the continent, one of them witnessed by our narrator [First video at the bottom of the post].

In all wars civilian casualties are an inevitability, but to many never evolve beyond numbers on a data sheet or total given during a news report. However, just as what was once abstract is made real for our narrator, so too is the data made real for us as we begin to follow this young boy’s life during the war.

 Who is responsible for the death of his family? The first answer would be the aircraft with the yellow 13, as it shot down the aircraft that destroyed his home. Or was it the fleeing aircraft that flew low over civilian territory? We see in the image the pilot ejecting safely with a parachute deployed. Whether he is ignorant of his effect on the boy’s life or knows the destruction he just caused doesn’t matter. Just as civilian deaths are reduced to data so too are soldiers and their armaments. Are the commanding officers above these pilots responsible for the collateral damage? Do the nations engaging in war have a duty to those displaced and killed by their activities? These are the questions that came to mind while replaying Shattered Skies, and I fear it does not serve a fulfilling answer to them.

 Mobius 1, the player character, reigns destruction that outmatches any other singular pilot in the war. However your own capability to kill and destroy is never shown to affect non-combatants in a negative effect. The only time civilians appear during a gameplay mission is when you protect two commercial airliners carrying defectors to ISAF territory, and when you liberate the boy’s city of San Salvacion and hear broadcasts of reporters on the ground describing their view of the battle. You as the player character are untouchable, both in the air and morally, even if ISAF is clearly responsible for some civilian deaths as shown by the introduction.

 Mobius 1 occupies a blank slate upon which not only can the player project their own morality and beliefs but so too can those who exist within the world. Your allies pin the hope of victory on your presence while the enemy curses it. Yellow 13 praises your performance in battle and regards you with respect as an honorable pilot.

 Both Stonehenge and Yellow Squadron make appearances in missions prior to your ultimate confrontation against them. Stonehenge appears as a sound of destruction that rips the skies above you, forcing you to fly at low altitudes in order to escape death. This happens a few times when your mission places you within range of the installation, before you finally get to fight and destroy the cannons that loomed over all operations due to its circle of range present at all briefings prior to its destruction. Yellow Squadron appears early on to chase you off the map, being impossible to hit and constantly locking onto you while you try to escape. After they appear as more of a passive force during certain dogfights, though still invincible. Tasked with protecting Stonehenge, Yellow Squadron fails to do so and show up after its destruction in order to fight off your group. Having gained enough experience through the previous eleven missions and with Yellow 4 wounded and needing a replacement engine, you are able to shoot her down easily. Yellow 13 makes his only audio appearance here, asking if anyone saw Yellow 4 eject. She did not.

 Having Stonehenge make its presence known through attacks despite being hundreds of miles away really builds up both its capability as a super weapon and also as a shadow over any mission taking place within its range. When you see the map grid during a briefing and notice that the mission area is within the dotted line you know your mission will most likely require you to fly low to the ground in order to avoid being blown apart by Stonehenge. This fear makes it so satisfying to finally confront your phantom threat head on and immobilize it and eliminate its threat for future missions. Likewise with Yellow Squadron, they appear as targets that severely outmatch you. Unable to land a hit, you are depowered in their presence and have to make adjustments in future missions to not waste time attempting to land a shot and instead focus on other, lesser pilots. Shooting down Yellow 4 is both an accomplishment because it shows how far the player and Mobius 1 have come since the initial confrontation, it also undercuts that victory with sorrow at the loss of someone who has never been shown to harbor ill will or malice. Yellow 4 simply desired to protect Yellow 13, who likewise prided himself on never losing a wingman, until now. Our respect, and the young boy’s burgeoning love for Yellow Squadron undercuts any victory over them and turns it into a complicated weave of emotions.

 Yellow 13’s portrayal throughout the game goes against traditional villain and instead is more of a rival pilot. Even then that stereotype falls short since he is not obsessed with Mobius 1 but instead awaits the ultimate confrontation that will lead to his death with open arms. With the loss of Yellow 4 and the constant turnaround of pilots in Yellow Squadron, his attachment to this world are gone. Even the two children he watched over turn against him. One night, the barkeeps daughter is caught planting detonators for the resistance and flees. Yellow 13 catches her, confirming she was responsible for the sabotage he so detested that caused Yellow 4’s death. The young boy is nearby, and appears yelling, “Get out of our town fascist pig!” at Yellow 13. Clearly hurt by this betrayal from the only two he had left, Yellow 13 allows them to leave. Whether this is due to their tender ages or because of his own disgust at Erusia, which is only increased by the Erusian tactics during the defense of San Salvacion: placing AA guns atop hospitals.

 Despite his hatred for the Erusian forces for occupying his town and disrupting peace, and his hatred for Yellow 13 for the cape crash, the boy continues to follow Yellow Squadron after the liberation of his hometown. By this point the boy has long abandoned his plan to confront Yellow 13 about his part in the family’s death. Yellow 4 scared him off previously, and now without her he sees Yellow 13 suffering from the same loss he himself did. The boy can’t bring himself to confront 13 now, after learning so much about him, after being cared for by him, and after seeing him suffer familial loss in war too. In an early scene the boy is shielded from the cold night by a Yellow squadron jacket, most likely placed there by their ace pilot.

 Yellow 13 ultimately gets the fate he wanted, death at the hands of a pilot better than he. The dogfight takes place over Farbanti, the Erusian capital and penultimate mission of the game. Victory is all but assured with the capture of the enemy capital, but in rides Yellow Squadron, ever loyal to their duty to serve Erusia even if it means embracing death. Mobius 1 shoots each one down.

 A theme I didn’t realize until this playthrough was that of memories, and how speaking them is enough to keep them alive. This is first mentioned by the boy when he recalls how Yellow 13 spoke after Yellow 4’s death. After Yellow 13’s death, the handkerchief that is buried represents both Yellow 4 and Yellow 13’s lives and the memoires the barkeep’s daughter and the boy have of them. These memories are kept alive even still by the framing device of the game, the letter being written by the now grown boy to you, Mobius 1. By writing this letter he kept the memories of Yellow 13 alive, and by playing the game, you keep it alive as well by watching and participating in it. While it may not be a true story, it still effective at portraying personal tales during a meaningless war.

 A lack of identity in Mobius 1 is used to speak directly the player. AWACS makes a request that you provide a victory on his birthday, the airbase you’re protecting want to relay their thanks to you personally, and allies get emotional when you’re put in danger. These voices aren’t directed at the character of Mobius 1 since it doesn’t exist. Instead they are directed at you, the player, in order to gain your sympathy and make victory not something to be viewed distantly but something you actively achieved. Video games consistently do this more often than any other form of media due to their interactive nature, but not all are as successful as Shattered Skies at making the player engage with the gameplay in order to win not just because it is how you progress but because it means victory for your allies.

 Despite being restricted to dots on your radar and voices through a radio filter, friend and foe alike have a human weight to them. This is continually built upon over the course of the four hour campaign, and culminates in the final mission as you shoot down each plane in order to hopefully keep your own friends alive. You quicken your pace as the ground forces take losses and audio plays of their battle in a place you cannot reach. Instead, you make your way through small spaces and destroy generators in order to open up the final missile silo and eliminate the final threat to total victory. Throughout the mission the strongest tracks of the game play: “Rex Tremendae,” “Megalith -Agnus Dei-”, and “Heaven’s Gate.” [Second video at the bottom of the post]

This final mission is a great end to a surprisingly emotional arcade flight simulation game.

 I have always had an emotional connection to this game since I first played it in the early 2000’s. I am very happy that it continues to hold up nearly 17 years later. Yellow 13 has a wonderfully somber story and I hope it continues to live through the retelling and replaying of Shattered Skies for years to come.