#especially the part about how rich people don’t notice ads bc they don’t *need* ads - they can get what they want when they want it

[immaculateconsumptive]

every time i see those posts about the ubiquity of advertising i think of murder must advertise. dorothy l sayers if only you could see how it is now…

[pencilscratchins]

YOU HAVE A MINI STORY FOR AZULA AND HER WIFE????? MS REBECCA I AM NOT ASKING I AM BEGGING

YOU ARE ENABLERS ALL OF YOU THIS IS A NOVEL UNDER THIS CUT

- SO SCENE SET a few years after canon, in their mid twenties (post sokka & azula solo) sokka and zuko are newly engaged, katara just decided to run for chief when hakoda steps down-- everyones pretty set in their lives.

-- azula’s doing pretty good- she’s grown a lot and learned some coping mechanisms and she’s gotten to a pretty good place with most of the group. especially toph and sokka-- but she’s starting to feel out of place in the palace.

--- like her whole life she was raised to be the fire lord, and now-- not only is she not the fire lord, she doesn’t really think being a part of the government's healthy for her at all. but she cant do that to zuko, whos done so much for her, who is she abandon him

- they all take a summer off and spend a few weeks in toph’s family’s country home bc rich people always just have house places smh (well, aang mentions he and zuko technically always on the job and zukos like “speak for yourself, hotman, iroh’s covering my gig, i’m lee from the tea shop rn”)

- the beifong’s house is in the middle of this smaller village on the coast, where there’s a farmers market every morning of local vendors, which sokkas psyched about.

-- nobody wants to go with sokka bc shopping with sokka means getting up at 7am and spending a full hour at each booth, but azula gets roped into tagging along when sokka is like “none of you are STRONG enough to wake up early and get going huh?” and her pride cant let that hang

-- rookie mistake.

- so she goes and spots nasim’s booth almost immediately and realizes in that moment: she’s not just a lesbian in theory. It is in fact, in practice. she is very gay.

- NASIM is a local greens farmer, whos family runs a pretty good sized farm on the outskirts of the village. her uncle is the bad boy of the family, who split off from lettuce to travel with his cabbage business. (this is completely added when i saw the cabbage merchant responses on the other post and laughed so hard SKSK)

-- nasim has always been a very level headed, calm sort of person. not shy, but careful with her words and very considerate. she’s one of those good men in the storm, so to speak; she’s the person who will level out every solution to a problem with immense patience. but with that, she’s not great at making decisions for herself, and is in NO MEANS a risk taker. 

- sokka notices azula flustered immediately and is like “well as your almost brother i need to tell you how to flirt with her” and shes like “excuse you i know how to flirt” and goes up and just… bombs it. like we’re talking “you’re outfits really sharp” pt 2

-- “these are incredible lettuces. were i an enemy leader, i would burn your fields down as to ensure the opposing forces could not gain their nutrition!” “.... well lettuce burns more calories to eat than it gives but… uh thanks,”

--- sokkas like i may be above my head here, i recognize that.

- he brings it up to zuko who, in a rare display of pure big brother energy, immediately tells the group who all decided they HAVE to make this happen. toph, because she thinks it ripe with hilarious opportunity; katara because she thinks a relationship might chill azula out a little; suki because she has nothing better to do; and aang because he just loves love :,)

- obviously, they are all inept idiots who can only date members of their immediate friend group, so they do not help. aang goes along with her and nasim is like “are you the avatar?” and he’s like “why yes! yes i am!!” and shes like “you have to leave immediately, my uncle warned me about you.” “that tracks, that does track”

- azula is kinda freaking out bc through all this misplaced attempts, she is spending time with and getting to know nasim and genuinely likes her- to the point where she could see herself starting a life in the village which is DISGUSTING and very unazula like!

-- like nasim and her keep running into each other, even outside of the groups intervention and they like... get along? nasims one of the first people who knows who she was and doesnt care; and nasim has never met anyone with so much passion and fire.

- azula & katara have a talk where katara’s like look. you were pretty fucked up and you did fucked up things, but those don’t have to define you for the rest of your life. if i have found a way to forgive you, you have to forgive yourself. And if forgiving yourself means moving away from the capital and marrying a woman-- do it.

-- azulas like why are you being nice to me and shes like well “my brothers marrying your brother so that makes us…” “nothing to each other” “oh thank tui and lu”

- anywayy this is already far too long BUT YOU GET THE GIST they fall in love and she moves to the village and run the farm together and my god, ive made yet another farm lesbian god DAMMIT

[skiesofthesketchy]

Midsummers

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Summary: You drag a poor, unsuspecting stranger to be apart of your little scheme, but JJ doesn’t mind all that much. 

Note: Yoooooo how are you guys? This fic is dedicated to my bff @rafej-cambanks​ bc it is her birthday today!! Go send her some love! I figured this might be a nice lil surprise bc it is 1 of the maybe 2 unpublished fics that you haven’t read yet lol. Anyway, I love you SO MUCH and hope you like this :)

Still working on blurbs for my 1k celebration! Sit tight, they will be coming soon :)

Warnings: language, hella fluff, uhhhh yea Word Count: 4k

gif by @toesure​

***

Standing in front of the full-length mirror and gazing at your reflection, you couldn’t keep a straight face. The pretty emerald fabric of your dress adorned your figure perfectly, considering the thousands of dollars your mother spent on it plus having it tailored to fit you so. The hem fell to your ankles, showing off your expensive six inch heels and perfectly painted toenails. Your jewelry consisted of a simple diamond necklace and matching earrings, the sparkle adding to your already glowing complexion. You assumed your makeup would look cakey, but it actually looked quite flawless. That’s what you get when your mother hires a professional to do your makeup and hair for the most prestigious Kook party of the year.

Midsummers. Tonight was the night every Kook family planned for months beforehand, and then talked about the months following after. The party where rich socialites gather to brag about their wealth and successes over lobster and expensive champagne, playing fake nice to uphold their own powerful and pleasant reputations. You hated Midsummers with every fiber of your being, but alas, it was the one event you couldn’t get out of, and you had to attend. 

You bubbled with laughter as you gazed at your appearance, hardly looking like yourself at all. A silly flower crown in your hair and an elegant dress that could probably pay for a trip to Europe. “So this is the daughter my parents have always wanted,” you sighed, coming out of your laughing fit. 

Your parents never really understood you. All they ever wanted was for you to be their perfect princess, hanging out with other Kooks, going shopping, finding a suitable boyfriend from a wealthy family, you know, the whole shabang. And of course, keeping your grades up at the academy so that you can one day work for your father’s multi-million dollar company. It was what all Kooks expect from their kids, but you weren’t about that lifestyle.

Sure, you were grateful for your comfy upbringing, but you couldn’t care less about any of that stuff. You just wanted to have fun, travel the world, figure out who you are. You’d jump off a cliff before you had to be tied down to this boring, money-obsessed world that your parents live in. 

With a quick wink to your alter-ego in the mirror, you sauntered out of the large bathroom, your heels clacking on the white marble floors. You made your way to the extravagant lobby area of the Island Club, staying close to the wall in order to not be noticed. Your parents were thankfully already at the party outside, but there was still someone you were trying to avoid: the pathetic boy your parents had set you up with. 

He really wasn’t that bad, just boring like every other Kook boy your age. Only caring about parties, drugs, and tormenting the Pogues on the island. According to your parents though, he was a “suitable young man” because his parents were wealthy and respected on Figure Eight. 

You spotted your date, Topper Thornton, leisurely scrolling on his phone, his other hand in his pocket. He was waiting for you so that you two could walk down the glorious staircase into the party together. It was tradition for ladies to be escorted down the steps, which is exactly why your mother took finding an escort for you into her own hands. The stupid tradition made you gag. You didn’t need a pretty boy to escort you into a lame-ass party, and that’s why you were hiding from him.

With Topper’s gaze fixed on his phone, you took this opportunity to slip through the large room and onto the balcony, the party happening just down the stairs. With a sigh, you started your descent down the staircase, taking in the scene in front of you. There were pretty lights hung up around the huge tent covering the dining area. People were dressed to the nines, champagne flutes in hand as they giggled and chatted to one another. The live band played classy music while some couples danced, and staff members ran around serving drinks to the attendees. 

Casually walking down the last few steps, that’s when you noticed your parents watching you, and you grinned brightly at them. You knew ditching your date for the grand entrance would piss them off, which is mostly why you did it, and it was confirmed by the sour expressions on their faces.

“Mom. Dad. You guys look great!” you smiled. Your mother only scowled in response. 

“Y/N! What on earth are you doing? Where’s the Thornton boy?” She spoke through her perfect teeth clenched in a fake smile, trying not to draw attention from others. 

You shrugged. “I dunno. Great party though,” you said nonchalantly as your eyes wandered, obviously not bothered by the disappointing looks your parents were giving you. 

“You know your mother wanted you to walk in on a man’s arm,” your dad said. He was trying to console your mom by rubbing her back soothingly. She was not taking this well, her chest rising and falling rapidly in anger. She wanted to yell at you, but wouldn’t dare to make a scene with all of these people around. 

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to be escorted by some boy? That tradition is dumb, and sexist, quite frankly.” 

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing us!” your mom whisper-yelled. Her eyes were wide and her lips twisted in displeasure. She’s more pissed than you thought she’d be, and you smiled. “You couldn’t have done this one thing for us? Why can’t you go one night without embarrassing your family?”

“You’re being dramatic,” you sighed. You loved pushing their buttons. They have to figure out you don’t want to live in this Kook bubble for the rest of your life sooner or later. It sucks that they aren’t accepting of who you are and only want you to be their little Kook Princess, but that has never kept you down for long. 

“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” your dad warned in a low voice. You scoffed.

“Tell me why you ditched your date,” your mom whispered, the anger still apparent even with how quietly she spoke. 

“I ditched him because I already have a boyfriend, Mom.” You didn’t really have a boyfriend, but the lie rolled off your tongue easily. Lying to your parents was something you did quite often, and not just to get away with the stupid shit you do sometimes. It was fun to mess with them. They get so upset over silly things, especially your mom. 

A smirk found its way to your mother's face, and you knew she didn’t buy it. “Oh yeah? Then where is he?” You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of catching you in your lie, especially if it meant she’d make you walk back up those damn steps just to retrieve Topper and do the whole entrance all over again. 

You were already disinterested in this conversation, but you couldn’t just walk away now. Your eyes wandered the party briefly, and that’s when you spotted a waiter heading in your direction. He didn’t seem too busy at the moment, no drinks or plates of food in hand, so the gears in your head started turning. Before you could even second guess your plan, you were stopping the boy’s strides by grabbing his hand and dragging him to the spot next to you in front of your parents.

“Right here,” you said. “Mom. Dad. Meet my boyfriend.” An innocent smile graced your lips as you stared at your parents, awaiting their reactions. You were happy to see surprise and displeasure taking over their features, and the blonde boy next to you looked just the same. You ignored him though and the way he turned to you with confusion dancing in his eyes. You didn’t even care if the stranger went along with it. Even if he walked off and this all blew up in your face, the shock on your mom’s face right now has already made it worth it. You found it all fucking hilarious.

Registering the silence and how nobody seemed to know what to do, you turned your smiling face towards the boy, squeezing his hand in yours and trying not to laugh at this whole situation. You finally noticed his beautiful blue eyes and the way they seemed to ask you what the hell is going on. You shot him a wink, and after quickly scanning your face, something in him seemed to change.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s so great to finally meet you.” The boy had turned his attention back to your parents, and reached to shake your father’s hand. You couldn’t help the happiness that swelled up inside of you. He’s actually going along with your idiotic plan to piss your parents off even more.

Your other hand came up to rest on the boy’s bicep as you watched him shake your dad’s hand. Your dad couldn’t form words as he looked at the waiter you clung to. Your mom had plastered on one of her brilliant fake smiles after a few seconds, and nodded her head in acknowledgement. 

This was almost too good to be true. You didn’t know the boy standing next to you, but considering he was part of the staff, he had to be a Pogue. Your parents never allowed you to hang out with Pogues before, so you could only imagine their fury after learning you were dating one. You only caught a quick glance at the blonde, but you noticed the bruises on his face and the cut on his lip. You didn’t know his story, but you knew your parents only saw him as a trouble-making Pogue, and his beat up face only made it better. Not to mention you were in the middle of the biggest party of the year. Your parents wouldn’t dare do anything to make a scene, not here. Sure, you’d be getting an earful at home later, but you were already basking in the pleasure of seeing them so utterly angry and not being able to show it.

“And what’s your name, young man?” your dad asked. 

“JJ Maybank, sir.” You turned your gaze to the boy again, and he smiled charmingly at your parents. “I’ve heard lots about you both, from your lovely daughter here.” He suddenly turned to face you again, the same cute smile on his lips, and released your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist. Fuck, he’s doing a great job at playing along even though you dragged him into this mess that he had no business being in. You were loving every second of this. 

The way your mom was struggling to keep her calm composure had laughter bubbling in your chest, but you kept your lips shut tight to hold it in. “JJ,” she said through clenched teeth. “Are you working the party?” As polite as she was trying to be, her distasteful glance at his work attire didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. 

JJ wasn’t disheartened by her question, and only smiled bigger. “Yes ma’am, I work at the Island Club for such events. I also deliver groceries and mow lawns. But don’t worry. I still make plenty of time to take Y/N out on dates and treat her like the princess she is.” You found his gaze once again, and you swear you could kiss him. He’s really milking this whole encounter with your parents and you promised yourself to thank him later. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” your dad responded for your mother. She was practically seething underneath that perfect mask of hers, but your father looked quite uncomfortable as well. And here you thought Midsummers would be boring. 

You listened in on the awkward conversation a few minutes more before you spoke up. “I’m glad you guys finally met, but we’re gonna go now. Enjoy the party!” You grinned one last time at your parents before grabbing JJ’s hand and dragging him away, leaving them to simmer in their shock and anger without you.

You had made it all the way to the other side of the dance floor before you burst out laughing. Giggles poured out of you loudly, and JJ couldn’t help but join in. You didn’t even care how awkward that whole situation was, you found it absolutely hilarious and you were happy to see that JJ seemed to think so too. “Thanks for playing along with that, man,” you smiled. “I totally owe you.”

JJ Maybank was confused to say the least. He caught on to your little plan and used his superb improv skills to play along, but he didn’t really know why. He’d never met you before, and couldn’t possibly figure out why you would claim him as your boyfriend. And though you two had never met, he knew exactly who you were. Everyone did. You were Y/N Y/L/N. Your parents were among the richest Kooks on the whole island, and you were their perfect Kook Princess. Why on earth would you ever tell them that he was your boyfriend? He was a low-life Pogue. None of it made any sense. 

He wanted to ask you for an explanation, but he was too caught up in the moment with you. He had never seen you up close before, and had to admit he found you intriguingly beautiful. Your eyes gleaming as your whole face lit up, your dress showing off your nice figure and complimenting you perfectly, even the giggles escaping your lips screamed beauty. He had his mind made up about you, thinking you’re no different than every other rich girl on the island, but now he’s not so sure. From the moment you abruptly grabbed his hand, he could tell you didn’t give a fuck about anything. You seemed fun.

“Do you always try to freak your parents out like that?” he asked with a laugh. 

You chuckled too with a nod. “Yeah. They’re too comfy in their dumb Kook lifestyle, so I like to scare them every once in a while.” You looked up at him with your pretty smile, and he could only smile back. Your words suddenly made him like being in your presence a whole lot more. 

He watched as you messed with your flower crown, the flowers getting caught in your hair as you unceremoniously pulled it off of your head. “Stupid fucking flower crown...” you mumbled before tossing it off to the side on the ground. JJ laughed at your messed up hair, but reached his hands up to fix it for you. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like, which he found odd about you, but you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, patting down the wild strands. 

You took this opportunity to really look at him. His blonde hair was messy and the locks fell over his forehead. The bruises marking his face did little to hide how attractive he was, the cut on his lip seemed to make him even more attractive to you. Even his work uniform was tattered and wrinkled, but he still managed to look good in it. He finished messing with your hair and tucked a strand behind your ear, eyes meeting yours, and neither of you could hide your curious smiles. “Thanks,” you hummed. He only nodded in response.

Your eyes wandered as you tried to figure out what to say, but you caught sight of Topper bounding down the staircase, his gaze searching through the party, probably for you. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and positioning him in front of you. You stepped closer to him as you peaked your head over his shoulder to keep your eyes on the Kook you ditched.

“Hiding from someone?” JJ asked, looking down at you with amusement. 

You nodded. “Just the guy my parents tried to set me up with. I may or may not have ditched him,” you laughed sheepishly. Maybe you should’ve felt bad, but you didn’t.

JJ spared a glance over his shoulder. “Which one of these unlucky bastards was it?” 

You giggled, still trying to hide your frame completely behind JJ. “Topper Thornton. Frosted Tips. Looks like a lost puppy.”

JJ laughed and you could practically feel the warm vibrations from his chest. His pretty eyes met yours again, and he surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist while his other hand found yours, bringing the pair of you into a waltz position. A smile tugged on your lips as you placed your other hand on his broad shoulder, and you both began to sway. 

JJ never pictured himself in this position before. Slow dancing with you, the Kook Princess of all people, at the Kookiest party of the year no less. He felt a strange sense of pride knowing that you had ditched Topper and are instead dancing with him. Being this close to you, he found himself trying to memorize your features, the color of your eyes, the softness of your hand in his, and the enticing curve of your waist which he had the pleasure of holding onto. 

“So,” JJ spoke softly. “What do you normally do when you’re not attending fancy parties and pissing off your parents?” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to find out more about you. You’re already quite different than what he made you out to be.

“Getting into more trouble,” you responded with a wink. 

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You shrugged. “Last month, I ran off to Cuba for a week without telling anyone.” You didn’t think it was a big deal, but you noticed the waves of surprise in JJ’s eyes. You giggled at his expression. “What about you? When you’re not serving drinks, delivering groceries, or mowing lawns,” you paused to admire the bruises on his face. “What do you do?”

“Get into trouble,” he laughed, shooting your words back at you. 

You played along. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You don’t know when it happened, but you realized now that you guys were closer than before. Your chest was pressed into his, and his face was so close you could kiss him with the slightest lift onto your toes. 

“Picking fights with your Kooky friends, usually,” he chuckled. 

“If you’re referring to Topper and his goons, we’re not friends.” JJ’s lips lifted into a small smile at your words. If he wasn’t mistaken, you were about as fond of those assholes as he was. 

You both were just staring at each other, choosing to put the small talk to rest and just enjoy the moment. JJ’s eyes never left yours as you brought both of your arms around his neck, leaving him to wrap his arms around your back, diminishing any space there was between your bodies. You thought he might’ve kissed you with the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands found yours and he spun you around so that your back was against him, your arms crossed over your body as you continued to sway. 

His lips hovered over your neck briefly, and you released a sigh, trying to remember the last time you felt so close to someone, so content and in the moment. Something about the boy holding you in his arms gave you butterflies, that warm and exciting feeling spreading through your veins. He suddenly released one of your hands and pushed you so that you were spinning away from him, but then caught you and pulled you back.

You giggled as he twirled you around the dance floor, pleasantly surprised at how good of a dancer he was. Staying hidden from Topper wasn’t even on your mind anymore. With his grip on both of your hands, you both spun around, making the other dancing patrons have to move out of the way. Your laugh bubbled louder, and you couldn’t care less about the other guests. JJ found himself laughing along with you, even though part of him still wondered why he was here, dancing and having fun with you. 

After a moment, he pulled you back against him and you both fought to catch your breaths while the laughter died down. He admired your features again, and the question he’s been dying to ask finally escaped passed his lips. “How come you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?” He didn’t mean it to sound so insecure, he was rather genuinely curious.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion, your grin turning into a frown. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

He scoffed lightly. “Come on, Y/N. We’re from two different worlds.” His eyes wandered for a second, noticing the amount of eyes on the two of you, probably floored at the scene you guys had just made. “Everyone is watching. The Kook Princess dancing with a Pogue...” He didn’t mean to bring down the mood, but he couldn’t help it. He was used to being dismissed, used to being viewed as a disgusting Pogue that only got into trouble. 

You brought your hands up to brush his hair away from his face, your bright smile returning. Your hands then cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing over his split lip. “I don’t give a fuck about these people.” JJ chuckled, feeling his spirits lift once again. Your fingers dragged down his neck and landed on his collar, which you straightened for him. 

“You know,” you started, eyes fixed on the buttons of his white shirt. “I expected tonight to be the absolute worst, but I’m actually having an amazing time.” You peered up at him through your lashes, and JJ smiled. 

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, his usual flirty persona returning. “And why is that?”

You giggled, deciding to humor him. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my handsome fake boyfriend has some damn good dance moves,” you winked. Your chest became warm at the sound of JJ’s deep chuckle, his breath fanning over your face.

Among the many judgy looks the pair of you were getting, your parents were also watching from a nearby table. JJ noticed their burning glares, and an idea popped into his head. Gazing into your pretty eyes, he smirked with a nod of his head to the side. When you glanced over and was greeted with the sight of your very angry parents, a grin creeped onto your face. You were making quite the spectacle, but really, who cares? “Want to give them something to be really pissed about?” JJ asked.

You looked at him curiously, but nodded nonetheless. You were already thrilled with how the night was going, and wondered what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He leaned forward and suddenly, his lips were on yours. Your surprise was soon washed away and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss, arching your back to press your chest into him. 

His hand rested on the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer as you both indulged in one another. His other large hand squeezed your hip, and you squealed softly against his lips. After a few more seconds, you pulled away from each other, gleaming smiles on your faces. Yeah, that sure made your parents fucking livid. Your mother had excused herself from the table they were sitting at, and your father followed after her, but you weren’t paying attention to them. 

JJ had rested his palms on your cheeks, just looking at you, and he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to get you off of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Your hands gripped his wrists, and you felt sad for a moment, thinking about how JJ probably needs to get back to work. He needs to get back to his life, and you need to get back to yours. “I’ll see you around, JJ?” You held your breath, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

He kissed you once more, short and sweet, before pulling away again with a smirk. “Definitely.” And with that, he made his way back through the party and into the building while you watched, not being able to hide your giddy grin.

***

Pls let me know what you think :) love you all

Masterlist

***

Obx tags: @sportygal55​ @jazbarnes05 @lovelogan @lannxyz @caseyabel28 @falling-perfectly @thisismynerdyself @mattelblake @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @queenofthepouges @dontjinx-it @pink-meringues @outerbnx-stiles @little-miss-rebel3  @shreckluver7​

JJ tags:  @kaylinfayezink​ @unfortunatekiwitrash​ @shy-1234​ @bijleegiregi​ @cheshirecat107​ @yami5525​  @folkloverr​ @dracoswhore007​

[queenmylovely]

The Best Things Ain’t Free

Summary: Roger Taylor x fem!reader. After meeting through friends, Roger is impressed with your lifestyle and you’re impressed with his prettiness. 

Word Count: 10.9k listen... she’s long

Warnings: cussing, smut (oral sex, fingering, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

A/N: This idea has been on my mind for ages because I can’t look at certain pictures of Roger in a fur coat without this thot. PSA that the most fictional part of this fic is reader being rich bc your girl ain’t. Let’s all use our best imagination and enjoy the life of the wealthy for a minute. Please leave feedback in any form whether it be tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(these are what inspired this entire thing bc look at them!!! pics edited by me)

☆☆☆

Normally, you wouldn’t be one to go to a dingy pub to watch some band play a set. If you wanted to hear good music, you’d go to a concert in a real venue, with box seats and catering. And if you wanted a drink you’d go to the Ivy, Grenadier, Star, or if you really wanted a nice time, the Ritz. But your friend, Kalaya, from your time at Oxford (she had attended on a merit-based scholarship, bless her heart), had insisted that you come.

“They’re one of the best bands I’ve ever heard!” Kalaya gushed, trying to convince you to go.

“Better than the Stones? The Supremes? Janis?” you asked, referencing all of the concerts you had taken her to in uni. “We saw Janis the one and only time she played solo in London, are you telling me this student band is going to match her?”

“I said one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. And it’s not like you’ve never been to the bar before, it’s Angel’s, I took you there after exams junior year, remember?” Kalaya prodded, hoping that since it was at least somewhat familiar, you might be more likely to go.

“Oh yeah, I remember. Someone spilt a drink on me and I stunk like cheap beer for the rest of the night,” you said, wrinkling your nose in annoyance.

“C’mon you can’t condemn a whole pub just because one drunk idiot made a mistake,” Kalaya reasoned.

“Never would’ve happened at the Ritz,” you said with a huff.

Lucky for her, Kalaya never took you as seriously as you wanted to be and she laughed, “Stop being so stuck up, it’s not flattering.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, I need you to go. I fancy the guitar player and I can’t show up alone, you know I get nervous in crowds on my own,” Kalaya reminded you with her best puppy-dog eyes.

Your face broke out in a grin, “You didn’t say you fancied someone, oh my gosh, of course I’ll go! Tell me more about this guitarist.”

_____

The one caveat you had made Kalaya agree to was new outfits for the show. You would go to a grungy student pub to support your friend, but like hell were you going to dress the same as everyone there. After a few hours traipsing around Oxford Street, you both had completely new, fabulous outfits that were sure to stun, on your dime of course.

When you had first met Kalaya, she hadn’t liked you paying for things for her, but when you insisted that it only made sense for you to do or else you would be doing everything alone, she began to accept it. Plus, you had told her, the money was doing a lot more good being spent on fancy dinners and trips to the sea than sitting in some bank account in Switzerland. Anyway, your parents owned the largest shipping company in England, or something, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty to spare.

“It’ll take about an hour and ten minutes by car, so we should leave about two and a half hours before the concert so we can get there early,” you planned out two days before the concert, during dinner at your shared apartment with Kalaya.

“Car? We can just take the train, it’s practically the same amount of time,” Kalaya replied.

“And get our new outfits all dirty before the show? No way, Chay can take us. I already told him about it and he’s bringing Martie so they can go too,” you explained. Chay (short for Charlie, short for Charles) was your family’s driver and Martie was his wife. They were in their early thirties so they still appreciated new music.

“What if something happens with Brian and I want to stay? Won’t Martie and Chay want to come home?” Kalaya said sheepishly.

“When that happens, we’ll just get rooms at that Inn on the boulevard and wait until morning to bring you home,” you said with a smirk.

Kalaya got her own cheeky smile, “And what about when you inevitably sweep some unknowing pretty boy off his feet? Where will they go without you to get the rooms?”

You hummed, thinking about all the boys that might be at the concert, “They have their expense card, of course.”

_____

The afternoon before the concert, the four of you met at the drive of your parent's house, ready and dressed for the night. You’re in dark wash bell bottoms, an emerald green satin top, and black leather platform boots. Draped over one arm you had your favorite fur coat, a dark brown mink, because although it was August, it got cold late at night, especially in Oxford. Kalaya had chosen a black flowy dress that came to her mid-thigh and made her medium-brown skin richer in comparison, and black suede booties. It would’ve been boring except for the silver and gold thread embroidering it, making it look like a starry night sky. She had told you it would be perfect because Brian studied stars.

Martie and Chay were a little more understated, as was to be expected since they didn’t have to try to catch anyone’s eye. Martie was in an orange floral dress in a similar cut to Kalaya’s, but a few inches longer. The orange of the dress and the yellow and olive green flowers complimented her dark brown skin with its warm undertone. Chay was in black bell bottoms, a dark red button-down with a paisley print, and regular black boots. You told him that he was lucky his skin was still tanned from the summer holiday because his typical paper-white skin combined with the outfit would’ve made him look like a vampire. Chay laughed sarcastically and Martie changed the subject by complimenting you two girls and then turned back to Chay, noticing his large collar was a little crooked and fixing it.

Everyone, including their overnight bags just in case, got into the car and Chay immediately turned the radio up, the four of you singing along the whole way there.

_

Once you got to the bar, the four of you grabbed drinks and sat at a table near the back because it wasn’t crowded yet. The group chatted easily, laughing at each other’s jokes and stories. You were all more like family than anything because Chay’s father was the family driver before him and he and Martie had been together since they were teenagers. Since Kalaya always came to all the family vacations (that Martie and Chay also came to, as “employees;” their only duty being a designated driver), the four of you were used to hanging out and going to clubs and concerts together.

Slowly, the bar started filling up and you turned to Kalaya, “We should probably go to the front now so we can secure a spot.”

Kalaya nodded, “Are you guys coming?”

Martie and Chay looked at each other, communicating silently in that way couples do. Martie answered, “No, we’ll stay here. Don’t wanna be around a bunch of sweaty students.”

“My sentiments exactly,” you said with a roll of your eyes and Kalaya elbowed you. Then you looked at Chay with a sheepish smile, “Can I leave my coat with you?”

“Yes,” Chay huffed with his own eye roll, but he was still smiling. “Now go on, get up there.”

Kalaya and you laughed and waved, hurrying to get a good spot close to the stage. That was one positive of a small venue, being close enough to the band to do some serious damage to your hearing as well as being able to actually see the sweat dripping down their temples and chests once they really got into the music.

The crowd grew around you and you were jostled a couple of times, but once you glared at the people who did it, that seemed to stop. The energy of the crowd grew and grew in anticipation and you heard lots of chatter about how excited they were to see the band. Maybe Kalaya hadn’t oversold them.

It wasn’t long before all of the stage lights went out and a booming voice came from all around, announcing the arrival of, “Your entertainment tonight, Her Majesty, Queen!”

You laughed, appreciating the audacity of the name as someone who liked to be somewhat outrageous yourself. The lights flashed back on and you realized that the band was already onstage; they went right into the first song, drums, guitar, and bass starting strong. You listened to the music, enjoying it already, but were more focused on checking out the band, which was easy because you were only ten feet away from the stage.

The singer was a slim, elegant man with light brown skin and jet black hair. His eyes were a warm brown and when he looked out at the crowd it was as if he was connecting with every person. Round lips and large teeth caught your eye and as you watched them enunciate every syllable, you couldn’t help but think they must make a wonderful smile. He was wearing a black satin jumpsuit embroidered and embellished until it shone in the light. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut and eyeliner just the same kept him on the rock side of glam, any softer and he could’ve been considered disco. And even though the concert had only just started, he was already completely into it; the energy he gave off as he strode about the stage only adding to the crowd’s.

Next you looked at the guitarist, Brian, who Kalaya was already staring at, mouth hanging open in a way that told you she didn’t realize how obvious it was. You gently reached over and tapped her chin, bringing her out of her trance and her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She started swaying to the music and looked around the stage in a much more casual way.

Back to the guitarist, as Kalaya had told you he was extremely tall, with some of the longest legs you had ever seen on anyone. With velvet black pants and a flowing white blouse, he was as glam as the singer. He was even more slim than the singer, and with the mound of curls that made up his head he kinda looked like a lollipop, nothing you would ever tell Kalaya. He had pale white skin, a prominent nose, and otherwise delicate features, but your main attention was brought to his hazel eyes that looked at the crowd as if he was surveying them. Overall you were thoroughly impressed with Kalaya’s choice to fancy him.

On the opposite side of the singer was the bassist, made clear by the fact that his guitar only had four strings and a longer neck. His clothing was a little more reserved than the other two, simply a black satin suit with a white satin shirt underneath. His chestnut brown hair was long and wavy, and it framed his also pale white face well. He was pretty relaxed in his playing, like it wasn’t that hard, but watching his hands you could tell the skill it took to stay on beat through some of the most complex rhythms. A soft nose, green-grey eyes that seemed kind, full lips, and a familiar feeling endeared him to you instantly, a smile coming to your face as he smirked when the singer pressed up against him.

Lastly, you turned your attention to the drummer, and just about gasped. Yes, the other three had been beautiful, but none of them were as pretty as him. His hair was shaggy, wavy, and dirty blonde, and heaven knew you loved your blondes. His white skin was lightly tanned which just made his baby blue eyes stand out even more. He was wearing some sort of black blouse but it was completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest that was toned from drumming totally exposed. You couldn’t see much else because of his kit but what you could see, your eyes ate up. As he drummed, his lips stuck out in a pout and his hair swooshed, glinting gold as he played the cymbals.

Kalaya had only been half-joking when she talked about you finding your pretty boy and now you had, your sights completely set on this drummer. Plus you figured that if Kalaya knew Brian, you had an automatic in.

Suddenly, you were making eye contact with the drummer but instead of being surprised or flustered, you started your mission. Biting your lip in a smile, rocking your hips to the rhythm he was playing, and tilting your head to the side, you made it clear you were checking him out. That seemed to spur him on and the drums got louder as he played harder. If he was trying to impress you, it was working, but more because it was a testament to his stamina than to his skill. Besides, you could see that you had done plenty to impress him by subverting his expectations and staring him down instead of swooning as soon as he caught your eye with his.

Not that there was anything wrong with swooning, in fact Kalaya was swooning over Brian at this very second because he had smiled at her, but you liked being the one to cause the swoon. You knew you were attractive and knew other people knew it too. You were confident and knew what you wanted, an energy you liked to radiate when you were around pretty boys.  

The drummer was the one to break eye contact first, looking around the room for a minute as if trying to distract himself. Then he looked back at you and you just smiled and waved at him. By the way his eyes widened and cheeks pinkened further than they already were, you could tell he was a little flustered, and laughed, something you were sure he could see as well. He didn’t seem to be looking away this time, so you did instead, turning your attention to Kalaya to make sure she was doing alright.

“How’s it going, babe? He in love with you yet?” you half-yelled into her ear because the music was so loud.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “More like I’ve just fallen further in love with him. But he has smiled and waved at me a couple times in between songs.”

“See? Don’t be all modest!” you urged.

“Well what about you? I see the eyes you’re making at that pretty boy drummer. He’s just the epitome of your type, huh?” Kalaya shot back.

You sighed happily, “He really is.”

_

About an hour later, the last encore was done and a cheap curtain had separated the band from the rest of the pub as they packed up their instruments. But apparently they would be joining the crowd later on, based on the talk of the people that had been standing around you up front. Not everyone seemed aware of this fact or maybe they just didn’t care, because the crowd thinned by half once the set was over. Quickly making a game plan, you and Kalaya decided to wait by the bar but not at the bar, in the path the band would most likely take from backstage to get a drink.

After waiting for only 10 minutes, you saw a curly head of hair bobbing through a doorway and realized they were on the move. You signaled to Kalaya with your eyes that they were appearing behind her (now out of their stage clothes), not interrupting what she was saying in an effort to remain casual. Once she had realized what you meant, she slowed her words, hoping to get interrupted. The blonde came into view and you flicked your eyes over to him just once, letting him know you knew he was there.

“Kalaya?” Brian asked, tapping her shoulder lightly.

Expertly, Kalaya turned like she was surprised, “Brian!”

They hugged quickly and she pulled back, “You all were amazing, just like last time.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad I actually have a chance to talk to you this time, instead of rushing off to deal with a flat tire on the van,” Brian smiled. Then he looked over to you and Kalaya jumped in.

“This is my friend,” she introduced you. “We went to Oxford together. She already knows all about you.”

Brian looked a little pleased at that, and Kalaya brought a hand to her mouth, realizing her faux pas.

“She means your band. She had to make a hard sell for me to come all the way back to Oxford to see the show,” you explained away what she said even though you all knew that wasn’t what she had meant.

“Well I’m glad you both made it,” Brian said with an easy smile. “Speaking of the band, I’d better introduce them all.”

Brian stepped back so he was in line with the other three and Kalaya turned so she was facing them next to you.

“This here is Freddie, our wonderful singer. Then we have John—”

“You can call me Deaky,” he interjected.

“Deaky then, our fantastic bassist. And finally our resident pretty boy himself, our drummer, Roger,” Brian finished with a bit of a smirk.

You all exchanged pleasantries and as Kalaya was drawn into a conversation with the rest of the band, Roger stepped closer to you.

“Pretty boy, huh?” You asked with a teasing smile. He nodded, about to say something in defense or make a jab at Brian, but you spoke first, “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Roger flushed at that, a small smile coming to his face, but he changed the subject, “So you went to Oxford?”

“Yes,” you said slowly.

“Not a big fan?” he asked.

“No, I did really enjoy it here, just kind of small for my taste. I mean, over an hour to get to where anyone big’s playing and never having heard of fine dining? I suppose it was a good change of pace, or at least that’s what my parents say, but I’m glad to be back in the city,” you explained and Roger listened intently.

“So raised in London then?”

“Yes, except for the summers. Then it was Nice or Barcelona. Oh and one year New York,” you knew you were being a little overt with the flaunting of your upbringing, but you could tell that Roger was the type of person to enjoy the best things in life, and his eyes were as big as dinner plates as he listened to you, clearly impressed. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m just from Truro, not quite as glamorous as all those,” Roger told you and while he wasn’t exactly embarrassed, you could tell he was waiting for your reaction.

“Truro’s in Cornwall, right?” you asked and Roger confirmed with a nod. “Then I’ve been there! Yeah a couple years ago Kalaya and I went on a trip to the sea and took a little detour to Truro, we loved it! Perfect for a little weekend getaway.”

Roger smiled big, your praising of his hometown charming him, “But how is Truro on the way to the sea? Wouldn’t you just go to Brighton or Southend?”

You smiled, laughing at yourself, “Well I got it in my head that I wanted to go to the very western tip of the country, and luckily Kalaya is a good enough sport to go along with my whims.”

“Do you often have these types of whims?” Roger asked and there was more cheek behind the words than in their meanings.

“Well I adore travelling,” you said, a little smirk coming to your face. Then you fixed your gaze to Roger’s eyes, “And my personal philosophy is to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want.”

Roger swallowed, his mouth parted, and he blinked a couple times before responding, trying a laugh to cover for his reaction to your words, “A bit hedonistic, no?”

“Hmm, a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, no?” you responded quickly. Not that you actually knew that Roger was similar to you in that way, but watching how he reacted to everything you said made you sure enough to say that.

Scoffing as if that weren’t true, all he could say was, “What?--who?”

“How are the two of you getting on?” the bassist, John-- Deaky, interjected, coming to stand so the three of you made a triangle.

“Well Roger here just called me hedonistic,” you said matter-of-factly, looking at Deaky with wide eyes.

“Ha! You’re one to talk, Rog,” Deaky told him, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing.

Roger just looked at you, surprised that you would’ve brought it up to Deaky. You just stuck your tongue between your teeth and smiled victoriously; you loved to keep boys on their toes, especially ones that looked so cute when they were surprised.

Deaky turned to you, “You look really familiar, have we met before?”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing, but you had shorter hair, right?” you looked at him more closely.

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, this is pretty new.”

“What university did you go to?” you asked.

“Chelsea college in London, I was in electrical engineering,” Deaky replied.

You exclaimed in recognition, “The scholarship dinner! You got my family’s engineering scholarship, that was like five years ago.”

“That’s right! We hung out during that tour of one of the facilities when our parents were talking endlessly,” he remembered and you laughed along with him.

“Wait, I thought the only private scholarship you got was from that family with the shipping business that are, like, filthy rich,” Roger said and you and John just looked at each other and then at Roger, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then his eyes went wide, “That’s your family?!”

“Might wanna close your mouth Rog,” Deaky said with a laugh, tapping Roger’s chin as you had Kalaya’s.

A voice came from the bar and you looked to see Brian waving the three of you over. Deaky immediately started walking but you hung back next to Roger.

He seemed to be walking slowly because he was still processing the information, “I kinda thought you were exaggerating about the summer trips. And you weren’t kidding when you said whatever you want whenever you want, were you?”

You reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair away from his face and Roger looked at your hand as it dropped back to your side, “Mm-mm, wasn’t kidding about the whoever, either.”

Roger looked back up at you and you winked before turning to the others and gladly accepting the drink held out to you by Brian.

Chatting in a little group with Brian, Kalaya, and Deaky, you noticed that Freddie and Roger were off to the side but didn’t pay it too much mind. You were more focused on whether this Brian liked your Kalaya as much as she did he, and judging by the way he stared at her with adoration in his eyes as she talked, he did.

Standing apart from the rest of you with Freddie, Roger took a gulp of his drink as he looked at you laughing with the others.

“Fred, man, I can hardly keep up with this girl. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes and all the things she says! I hardly know whether I wanna be with her or be her,” Roger told Freddie.

“What do you mean?” Freddie said with a confused laugh.

“Well she’s beautiful and funny and smart, sophisticated, has great taste--” “I think you’re confusing her with me,” Freddie interrupted with a sly smile.

“Ha-ha, Fred. Did I mention she’s also loaded?” Roger deadpanned.

“She’s got me there,” Freddie admitted. “Well are you going to do anything about it?

“I would, but she’s kinda intimidating,” Roger said and when Freddie looked confused he elaborated. “Like, she’s been flirting more than me tonight, even when we were onstage.”

“That’s saying something,” Freddie agreed.

“Exactly, so I feel like she’s someone who would want to make the first move,” Roger pointed out. And then a little quieter, “which you know I have absolutely no problem with.”

Freddie laughed loudly, “Well if things don’t work out between you two, I might just have to make her my best friend.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Roger said with a frown.

Patting Roger’s arm, Freddie rolled his eyes and told him, “I know darling, it was a joke.”

Deaky, Kalaya, Brian, and you got up from your seats at the bar, catching their attention, so they walked over to where you were.

“We’re walking the girls out,” Deaky explained because Brian was too busy chatting with Kalaya. Freddie and Roger nodded and then Deaky led the way, cutting through the crowd to the exit. Brian and Kalaya were lock-step behind him, and Freddie, Roger, and you followed up last, in that order.

“Leaving already?” Freddie asked you.

“Yeah, well if we want to get rooms for the night we better head over,” you explained.

“Oh are you staying at the Inn too?” Roger asked, his ears pricking up.

You nodded with a little laugh, “Seeing as it’s the only lodging in town, yes.”

Freddie laughed and Roger smiled sheepishly, thinking of something to say when you put your hand on his arm.

“Hold on a second, I gotta grab our ride,” you said quickly before heading towards the tables in the back.

Freddie and Roger shared a confused look, having assumed that the two of you would call a cab. You were walking back only twenty seconds later, slipping on your fur coat.

Roger gasped softly and gripped Freddie’s arm, “Fuck Fred, I’m in love.”

Freddie laughed, but his surprise-widened eyes were on the coat too, “With her or the coat?”

“Both,” he whispered back as you came up next to them, joined by a man and woman.

“Okay, quick introductions,” you said, realizing that you were standing halfway obstructing the doors. “Freddie, Roger, this is Chay and Martie. Technically Chay’s my family’s driver, but they’re both more like my siblings that I drag along to things like these. Chay and Martie, this is Freddie and Roger, of the band.”

“Yes, we assumed,” Martie said with a laugh, shaking Freddie’s hand first and then switching with her husband.

“Looks like we should head outside,” Chay pointed out, and the five of you exited into the cool night air. “We loved the set, you all were fantastic. And by the way, she did not have to drag us here, we were rather excited to see you guys ourselves.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Freddie said with a warm smile and it was infectious enough that everyone smiled as well.

“Well, shall we go bring ‘round the car, babe?” Martie asked, always good at keeping Chay from getting too distracted.

“Yes, right, nice to meet you,” Chay said, and they all did their goodbyes.

You turned to Freddie and Roger, “Guess I’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more, Freddie, I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about.”

“Me too dear,” Freddie said warmly. Then he gave you a pointed look, “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

You both knew what he meant, and by the looks of Roger’s flushed face, he did too although he pretended not to hear. It was hard to help the pleased smile that came to your face when you realized Roger must have talked about you to Freddie.

Freddie took a look at Roger and then said to both of you, “I’ll just go say goodbye to Kalaya then.”

He walked away and you took a couple steps toward Roger, until you were only about a foot apart. Roger wasn’t much taller than you, especially in your platforms, but from that distance you had to look up to look him in the eyes. You didn’t say anything, just looked at him and waited until he blushed again and looked down for a second, eyes landing on your coat.

“That coat looks great on you,” he rushed out, tucking a piece of hair behind his hair, which did nothing to calm him as it just reminded him of when you did earlier.

You looked down at your coat too, hands brushing over the soft, brown fur, “You like it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he said quickly and you chuckled.

“You know Roger,” you stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I think we’d have a lot to talk about too. Probably have lots in common. You should call me sometime to figure out all what that is.”

With that, you reached into the inside pocket of your coat and pulled out one of your cards that you always kept handy ‘cause you never knew when a networking opportunity would present itself. You held the card up between your index and middle finger before reaching behind Roger and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. You let yourself linger that close to him and drank in his wide eyes, the way his mouth parted and how he seemed to be leaning down closer and closer to you.

“The car’s here y/n!” Kalaya called out to you, pulling both you and Roger out of the moment.

You looked at him once more, touching his arm again and then walking away. Throwing him a smile over your shoulder, you called, “See you later, pretty boy!”

Kalaya and you got into the back of the car and waved through the window to the four boys that were watching you leave. Once they were out of sight you turned to her.

“Good catch interrupting me and Roger then,” you told her.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more, right?” Kalaya said with a grin.

You laughed, “Right, exactly. By the way, things with Brian seemed to be going good.”

“They were, we had a lot of fun talking tonight. I think he likes me,” she said with a hopeful smile.

You nudged her, “I know he likes you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.”

“Same with Roger and you,” she pointed out.

“Well, I know he likes me too,” you said with a smirk and the whole car laughed. “You know if I were the type of person to get embarrassed, that’d do it.”

_____

A week later, during a giant heat wave that left no one able to do anything but sit inside and swelter, Roger called you around 7:00pm. Because you were lying on your bed with a fan pointed directly at you and you had a phone right next to your bed, it only took one ring for you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, y/n?” you could tell by his voice it was Roger, but you kept that to yourself.

“Yep, who’s this?” you asked pleasantly.

“Roger from, um, Queen,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, Roger, hello! You don’t have to say ‘from Queen,’ you know, I remember you perfectly,” you told him, sitting up so you were leaning back on your arm. Before he could say something in response, you started again, “So how are you, how are you doing? Have you had any more shows?”

“Good, I’m great. We had two more shows last weekend further north and we’ll have more next week around town--”

“Oh really? I think Kalaya and I would really love to go to another show, we so enjoyed the last,” you interrupted.

“Brilliant, you should definitely come, both of you, I can get you the details,” he returned and you interjected with a quick thanks. “But, what about you? How are you?”

“Ugh I’d be better, but it’s just so hot today,” you complained, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Well what are you wearing?” Roger asked and you grinned.

“Oh, getting a little cheeky are we, pretty boy? Haven’t even gone out and you’re asking what I’m wearing?” you asked mock-incredulously just to make him flustered.

“No--no, I just meant like if you’re hot, like maybe,” Roger was babbling, trying to find the best way to explain what he meant. “Just if you’re wearing layers or something thick or something I just--”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you,” you said with a giggle. “Let’s see, I’m wearing satin running shorts, that to be honest are too short to run in, and one of those little strappy halter crop tops, you know the kind?”

“Y-yeah,” was all Roger could muster.

“So nothing that’s making me hot. And I’m not even wearing a bra so that’s not making me uncomfortable,” you reasoned as if this were a reasonable conversation.

You could hear his breath quicken over the phone and there was a pause where neither of you said anything.

“Maybe I should just go nude.”

You knew what you were doing, practically torturing the poor boy, but he had been the one to bring up what you were wearing, and it was the truth. But if you were simply answering his question with no impure intentions you would’ve been a lot less descriptive.

Roger made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and then that was it so you sat up and kept going, “That reminds me, I’ve just had an idea. Today seems like a write off because it’s too hot to function, but it’s supposed to be cooler tomorrow, are you doing anything?”

He cleared his throat before he answered, “Um, no, I’m not busy.”

“Great! Kalaya and I were going to go shopping but I guess she’s hanging out with Brian instead. You can come with me and offer advice,” you told him.

“You’d want my advice?” Roger asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve seen your clothes both onstage and off. You have great style, Roger,” you affirmed and he smiled at the praise.

“Thanks, so do you. Um, that sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay, do you know the boutique on the corner of 10th and Wilder?” Roger hummed yes. “Good, let’s meet there at 11:30?”

“Perfect, looking forward to it,” he said flirtily.

You smiled, “Me too. Well, I should probably go, Kalaya and I are going swimming tonight at my parents’ to make up for her flaking out tomorrow. I’d invite you along, but even though my parents are out of town, they’d definitely hear about their daughter skinny dipping with some random pretty boy they don’t know. See you tomorrow!”

“I… bye,” Roger said, sounding incredibly sad that he couldn’t stay on or go swimming.

You hung up and then immediately rushed to Kalaya’s room to tell her all about the conversation.

_____

When you walked into the boutique at 11:25am, the clerk, Ayan, waved to you, as you were a frequent patron of the store. You had probably already seen all that there was to see, but thought that Roger’s fresh eyes might see something you hadn’t given much thought to before. There were a couple other customers around, but it was a little slow for a Saturday morning so you went to chat with Ayan about any new arrivals while you waited for Roger to arrive.

They were explaining that the boutique had gotten some fur coats from an estate that were in impeccable condition. The boutique was one of your favorites because it stocked mainly independent designers, consignment, and didn’t turn up its nose at thrifted finds of luxury items. In fact, it was where you had gotten your fur coat a few years before from the estate of a well known West End actress from the forties.

“There’s this one really lovely coyote--” Ayan cut themself off, eyes widening as they looked towards the door. “Don’t look now, but some special type of pretty boy is just about to walk in.”

Thinking only one person could fit that description, you looked, smiling as Roger walked in, scanning the store for you.

“You looked!” Ayan whisper-yelled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The sound drew Roger’s eyes over to you and you waved before turning back to them.

“Don’t worry, he’s meeting me. See you in a while with loads to buy under your commission,” you told them, winking.

“That’s why you’re my favorite customer,” they joked and you chuckled as you walked away.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said cheerfully as you reached him before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He kissed you back and when you pulled back his cheeks were the cute pink that you were getting used to seeing.

“Hey, nice shirt,” he complimented.

You looked down at yourself. You were wearing high waisted medium wash denim shorts and a Hendrix t-shirt tied to the side at your waist.

“Thanks, I got it at his concert I went to,” you explained, smoothing it out.

“Where’d you see him?” Roger asked curiously.

“Royal Albert Hall, in ‘69. Me and Kalaya went together, it was a great show,” you said, remembering how it felt to see him perform.

“No way, I went to that concert too!” Roger exclaimed and you laughed excitedly.

“I wonder if we saw each other at all,” you said, smiling at the thought.

“Uh-uh, I would’ve remembered you perfectly,” Roger told you with a bold smile and this time, you were the one that was flustered.

“Should we start? I’m counting on you to find whatever I’ve overlooked in this store,” you said, changing the subject as you turned towards a rack of clothes.

“Do you have anything specific that you need?” Roger asked distractedly as he flicked through the hangers.

“The only need I have is to have all the best things this store has to offer,” you said airily.

Roger laughed and turned to you, saying teasingly, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re spoilt?”

“They usually stop when I pay them not to,” you said straight-faced, but Roger’s laugh made you break and you laughed together, leaning closer until you were sharing the same air and you placed a hand on his arm to steady yourself.

You were just wearing sandals, so Roger was taller to you than the week before and you actually had to tilt your head up to make eye contact this close. Roger’s laughter-brightened eyes looked at your still smiling lips and you noticed, the shift in mood making your breath quicken and your heart race. Under your fingers, the warm skin of his arm made you want to feel that warmth all over, and you wondered how long it would be until you could.

Then another customer brushed by, mumbling an “excuse me” awkwardly and the two of you were pulled away from a moment yet again. Your hand dropped from his arm and he turned back to the rack. It wasn’t long before your chatter started up again, especially as Roger found things that he liked for you to try on.

When he had made his way through the entire store, he had six things for you. He would have had a lot more but most of what he liked you already had.

First up was a black mesh long sleeve shirt that Roger told you to try on underneath your band shirt. It was longer than your t-shirt and you tucked it into your shorts, so your midriff that was exposed by the gap in between your clothes was covered by the mesh.

You came out of the dressing room, holding your arms out for Roger to see and doing a twirl, smiling widely.

“Do you like it?” he asked, smiling to match.

You nodded enthusiastically, “You know, when I saw this weeks ago I had no idea how to style it, but I love this! Very punk, street fashion, I’m a woman of the people.”

“Oh my gosh, never mind, I’m not sure you deserve to wear that,” Roger reached out and grabbed the sleeve, acting like he was going to pull it off.

“Stop!” you said through laughter. “You’ll stretch it out!”

He let you go and you went back in to try on more. There ended up being two dresses that you didn’t like because of color for one and the sheer amount of ruffles for the other. Then a shirt you realized you had in another color at home and a skirt that was itchy. Finally, there was a denim shirt that you didn’t really like because it was so plain. But you put it on anyway, figuring you’d humor him.

It was medium wash, the same color as your shorts, and it had some flowers embroidered in colorful thread which you supposed were nice, but overall it looked blah.

You stepped out of the dressing room again and Roger saw your not-so-happy face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, “Don’t like it, it looks weird.”

Roger rolled his eyes with a smile, “That’s because you’re wearing it wrong. C’mere.”

You stepped close to him and he said a soft “may I” to which you nodded. His long fingers unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of the shirt. Then he tied it in a knot, fixing the ends so they laid correctly. His fingers brushed your skin and though they were warm, the feeling made you shiver. Roger was moving his hands so delicately, precisely, and you felt a rush of want go through you.

“And since you’re wearing a t-shirt,” even more carefully, he undid the upper buttons, leaving only the middle two done. Then he turned you around to look in the mirror and immediately your mind was changed. The way Roger styled it emphasized your waist instead of hiding it and now the monotone look worked instead of looking drab.

“How do you feel about it now?” Roger asked with a proud little smile.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, looking at him through the mirror.

Roger stepped past you into the dressing room and grabbed the mesh shirt, “Well here are your two finds.”

He handed the shirt to you, but before he could return his hands to his sides, you grabbed one of them, sliding your fingers along his to his palm and feeling the calluses there from drumming.

Roger watched your hand on his and only looked up when you started talking.

“Did you see anything else you liked?”

“Oh, do you want more than these two things? I can look again,” Roger suggested.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand, “No, I mean did you see anything you liked for yourself? So I can thank you for helping me with these.”

“You don’t have to,” Roger protested.

“I might be spoiled, but I like to do some spoiling myself. I want to get you something, and this shop is too good for nothing to catch your eye. Anything you liked, nothing’s too much,” you told him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“Anything?” Roger hesitated.

“Anything, Roger,” you said, using your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That seemed to reassure him.

“I did see this display with this really gorgeous…” he trailed off, still uncertain, looking down.

“Really gorgeous… what?” you prompted.

“… fur coat,” he looked up to see your reaction. You were beaming.

“That’s the one Ayan was telling me about, the coyote one, right? It is gorgeous, they'll be so happy that it’s gonna sell already!” you exclaimed, using your hold on his hand to pull him over to that part of the store.

Roger followed you, a little confused about what you said, but glad that you seemed so happy. You let go of Roger’s hand, set your clothes on the corner of a nearby table, and pulled the coat off the mannequin, handing it to Roger. He pulled it on carefully, pulling the sides so they were equal.

“Here,” you put your hands behind his neck and then collected the hair that had gotten trapped underneath the coat and moved it to where it should be. He smiled his thanks and you smiled back, before turning him around to face the mirror he was standing in front of.

You stepped a little to the side of him and watched him look at himself. He let out a little laugh, the kind that meant “damn, I didn’t think I’d look this good,” and you had to agree.

Then he turned back around to you, “Whaddya think?”

You looked him up and down, the desire you felt earlier only growing, “You look… hot.”

Roger was a little surprised at your outright statement, but that was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when you grabbed the lapels of the coat and used them to pull him to you, kissing him full on the lips without hesitation.

As shocked as he was at the spontaneity, kissing you was something he had been thinking about for a while, so he recovered quickly, kissing you back. He put one hand just above your waist and the other on one of your hands, keeping it there.

But before either of you could deepen the kiss, you heard the sound of heels clacking and pulled back. Roger’s lips followed yours, and you giggled, leaning back towards him. You only planned to give him another peck but his soft lips distracted you for another five seconds or so before you remembered what you were doing.

You pulled back, dropping your hands, except Roger kept the one he had been holding and linked his fingers with yours, smiling at you. He still looked clear-eyed and focused after the kiss, so you decided that you had to get him home quickly so you could remedy that.

“So I was thinking we should go ring up and then go to my place. To drop off my new clothes and… stuff,” you said, a bit of a suggestive emphasis on the last word.

“Let’s,” Roger said, picking your shirt up off the table.

The two of you ended up taking off your new finds, figuring it’d be too hot outside for a fur coat and denim shirt, and then headed to the checkout. Ayan was pleased, but not all too surprised that you were taking home the new fur, even if it was technically going to Roger’s home. Roger, to his credit, didn’t have any more trouble with you paying, but insisted that he carry back all the bags. You agreed with the stipulation that he would still hold your hand, which he did.

You only lived a ten minute walk away, and Roger had taken the underground, so you walked the way home. There was chatting along the way, but it was hard to get too deep into any one topic with the feeling of each other’s hands and the anticipation of what was to come distracting you.

Once you got to your building, you were ushered in by the doorman that tipped his hat and wished you both a good day. Then the lobby manager told you a package had arrived and gave you a little thin rectangular box the size of a book. Finally you got into the elevator and the attendant hit the button for the highest floor, yours.

“It’s from my parents,” you told Roger about the box.

“Are they still travelling?”

“Yeah, they should be in Barcelona right about now,” you replied.

“Must be beautiful there,” Roger mused and you hummed in agreement. Then the elevator dinged and the two of you got off, waving to the attendant as the doors closed. You unlocked one of the two doors that were in the hallway (the other was the stairs), and opened the door, ushering Roger in first since he was carrying things.

You took off your shoes to the right of the entryway, next to a pile of other shoes and Roger did the same. Then you grabbed the garment bag that held Roger’s fur coat and hung it on the coat stand. You also took the paper bag with your shirts and put it on your dining table with the package as Roger followed you the rest of the way into your apartment. As you walked about, putting things where they went, Roger was looking around at your place. You had a dining area that turned into a living room with giant floor to ceiling windows on the walls that looked out over the city. Roger was absorbed by trying to see if he could see his building from here when he heard you calling him.

It took him a minute to figure out where you were; there was a long hallway that led to many doors. But it turned out you were in the first off of the dining room which was the kitchen.

As he came into the room, you looked up at him with a smile, “Here, wash up, I cut us up some peaches, if you like them.”

“Love ‘em,” he replied sweetly as he headed to the sink.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, soda, tea…”

“Water’s great,” Roger answered and you got two glasses. “I was looking out the windows, you have quite the view.”

“We’ll have to eat this in my bedroom, you can see Hyde Park from there,” you told him and he grinned excitedly, grabbing the bowl of peaches and then walking behind you, nudging you forward with his knee and you laughed.

“Right so, what are all these doors then? Seems like an awful lot for one flat,” Roger teased and you chuckled.

So you pointed to each as you came to it, “Bathroom, office, guest bedroom that Kalaya uses as a closet, Kalaya’s bedroom with an ensuite, closet that also leads to my room--”

“Wait, like a walk-in closet? Oh I have to see this,” Roger said, heading for the door.

“Later, later, I promise,” you said, grabbing his sleeve to pull him back. “We still have the pièce de résistance, my bedroom.”

With that, you pushed open the door and nudged Roger to walk in. He did, eyes quickly taking in your four-poster bed, vanity, bookshelves, record player and collection, chaise lounge, and finally matching windows to the ones in the living room. He walked over to the chaise which was in front of the windows and set down the bowl on the little side table, looking out the windows. You set down the glasses and stood next to him.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” he gestured to the chaise.

“Yeah, when I’m home alone. I’ll just sit and watch the city live its life for awhile. It’s like people-watching but on a bigger scale,” you explained and he nodded.

So Roger sat down on the chaise, back against the raised end and legs spread out in front of him. He smiled at you and patted the space between his legs. You sat there, your back against his front, but you tilted yourself to the side so you could face each other more easily.

Roger grabbed the peaches and the two of you fed each other slices as you watched the city. It was a quiet and lovely moment with a growing underpinning of desire as the juices dripped down your chins and you kissed away the excess. Once the peaches were gone, you turned more towards him, catching his lips with yours fully once again. The taste of peach lingered on both of your lips, and the kisses were just as sweet as the fruit, just as soft as its skin.

Bringing your hands to Roger’s face, you swiped your tongue along his lower lip, moving it inside when he opened his mouth. Roger made a soft sound and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your chests were flush. Your breaths pushed you even closer and the feeling was intoxicating, all your senses consumed by the warmth of the moment. You tried adjusting to straddle Roger’s legs, but the angle of the chaise wasn’t very easy for that, so you pulled back, laughing lightly.

Roger had been even further into the kiss than you were so he wasn’t exactly sure why you were laughing but smiled all the same. This time, you saw his unfocused eyes and the tilted grin on his face and felt very proud of your work. Standing up, you brought Roger with you, grabbing the belt loops of his jeans to pull him with you as you walked backward towards your bed. Then you spun him around, pulling open one side of the gauzy curtains that were draped over the frame of your bed, and pushing Roger onto the bed. He laughed as he landed, scooting back so you could get on as well, letting the curtain fall back to its original place.

The light filtering through the curtains was hazy and soft, painting both you and Roger in amber light. Roger sat so his back was against your pillows and you made your way up his body, straddling his hips. His hands tentatively rested on your thighs, but he looked around your room once more.

“If this wasn’t already obvious, I really like your-- your decor,” Roger’s voice faltered as you took off your shirt, leaving you only in your bra.

You smiled mischievously, “I thought you would, pretty boy.”

***

Then you reached for his shirt’s hem, pulling it over his head. It left his waves a bit of a mess, so you combed your fingers through his hair. He hummed and closed his eyes as you did. When you were done, you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and leaned in for another kiss. The two of you already had a rhythm of push and pull that made it easy to get lost in the kiss. Your free hand smoothed over the tan skin of Roger’s torso, sliding across his pecs and down to his waist, and you felt goosebumps erupt over his skin, smiling into the kiss.

Roger’s hands moved from your thighs, up your torso to your breasts, feeling your nipples harden through your bra and when you moaned as Roger thumbed them, he smiled as well. Your hands went down to Roger’s waistband and you unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper and starting to shift them down his body. But his hand over one of yours stopped you and you both pulled back from the kiss.

“Can I… eat you out first?” his request wasn’t what you were expecting, but the look of desire in his eyes and the slout pout of his lips sent a bolt of heat to your core and you nodded quickly, switching places with him.

He did take off his pants, tossing them aside, left only in his boxer-briefs. You could see his hard-on, but he was focused on you. Roger unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts, slower than you had his, and pushed them down your legs with your underwear.

Spreading your legs gently, Roger laid between them, turning his head to kiss up the inner thigh of your left leg. His mouth pressed wet kisses into the skin, making your tummy flip and just when he got to the top of that thigh, he switched to the other. Once he was done with both, he pressed kisses over your slit before dragging his tongue up through your folds. You let out a shaky breath as his tongue pressed on your clit, and you tangled your fingers in the hair at the crown of his head.

Roger formed his mouth around your clit and sucked softly, making you moan lowly. He pressed a kiss to your clit then looked up to you with wide eyes and asked, “Is that good?”

The way he asked wasn’t condescending like he already knew the answer, but more eager like he wanted to make sure it was.

So you hummed and nodded, “Yes, Roger, you’re so good, keep going.”

His mouth returned to your clit and he swirled his tongue around it, making you gasp out, “Oh-- yes, Roger, just like that, fuck.”

The praise made him even more set on making you feel good, so he brought a finger to your entrance, and pushed it in slowly. His mouth didn’t slow on your clit, but he was searching with his finger to find your g-spot, knowing he did when your legs twitched. Roger slipped in another finger with the first, immediately working on your g-spot and the feeling was so strong and so good that it was almost too much and your legs tried to close around him.

But Roger just used his free arm to hold you in place. He kept the same rhythm with his fingers and mouth and the pleasure within you just grew and grew. You could feel the tension in your lower stomach tightening with every brush of his fingers inside of you and every circle of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh, I’m close, Roger, fuck,” you managed to get out and Roger moaned against you, making your breathing uneven. “You’re such-- such a, fuck, a good, oh, such a good boy.”

Roger whined against you and you immediately came, the vibrations spreading hot pleasure all over your body as your back arched and you moaned loudly, tightening your grip in Roger’s hair. He kept going, wanting to make you feel as good as possible, partly because he couldn’t believe how hot it was to see you like that.

You were breathing like you had run a mile, but slowly coming down and you loosened your hold on Roger’s hair, combing through it again. Roger’s hum on your clit made you jump a little so you touched the side of his face to get him to stop; he propped himself on his elbows to look at you.

With a playful smileful you asked, “Did you like that, pretty boy?”

He just looked at you confusedly, so you explained, “Well you’re grinding into the mattress so I thought it must’ve been good.”

Roger’s eyes widened as he realized what he had been doing. He stopped, sitting up quickly.

“It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed,” you told him, sitting up and running a thumb over his pink cheek. “I’m glad you felt good too. Now, why don’t you let me make you feel even better, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed, “Yeah.”

You switched spots with him and leaned down for a kiss, running your tongue into Roger’s parted mouth and getting a taste of yourself in return. Reaching behind you, you undid your bra and took it off. Roger’s hands went to your breasts and you bit his lip when he pinched your nipples, moaning together.

You kissed from his lips to his jaw then down his neck, nipping again on his pulse point and where his neck met his shoulder. As you made your way down his chest, you pressed soft kisses basically wherever you could reach, and Roger squirmed a little underneath you, bright blue eyes watching your actions closely. A few kisses to his tummy and above his waistband and then you took off his underwear with his help, his cock hard and flushed red against his stomach.

Settled on your knees between his legs, and putting one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, you grabbed his dick in your other hand and bent down, pressing kisses along the shaft and then peppering them on the head. Roger moaned softly and you started pumping him and tongued his slit.

You sucked on his head, using your tongue to swirl around it and he groaned, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Pulling off, you pressed a couple more kisses to this head and stroked him, “Such a pretty boy and such a pretty cock.”

Roger’s hips bucked and you hid your smile by going down on him again, not giving him any break. You worked your mouth down along with your hand, building a rhythm that was making precum bead on his head, which you happily sucked off.

Looking up at Roger, you saw that his head was tossed back, eyes closed with his lip between his teeth. You lifted your hand from his thigh up, brushing your thumb along his lower lip so he would let it go. As he did, he looked at you, tilting his head forward. His pupils were blown and he looked desperate as he watched you. You got an idea and a shiver ran across your body. You stuck your first two fingers out and slowly pushed them into his mouth, Roger’s lips immediately closing around them and starting to suck.

Both of you moaned; him around your fingers and you around his cock, making his hips buck again. You took him deeper in your mouth, as deep as you could go, gagging twice around his cock before pulling off again. You let the excess spit in your mouth fall onto his dick and used your hand to spread it around, jerking him off faster than before.

Roger was watching you intently, moaning whenever you twisted your wrist. You licked your lips and swallowed, “Your lips look so good around my fingers, Roger. You’re such a pretty boy, all desperate for me.”

He tried to say something that you could barely make out as “please.”

“Shhh, I got you. Do you wanna be a good boy and come for me?” you asked sweetly, lowering your head back towards his cock.

Roger nodded, keeping your fingers in his mouth, so you brought his head back into your mouth and sucked in time with your hand. You could tell Roger was getting close with the way his hips were shifting and you could feel the vibrations of his moans on your fingers stronger. His thighs were tensing so you pulled your fingers from his mouth, gripping his thigh with your wet fingers, and the slight dig of your nails into his skin set him off as he warned you hoarsely, “I’m gonna come-- fuck.”

He came as you jacked his dick off into your mouth, swallowing his cum as quickly as you could. His high moans of your name ignited a burn between your thighs but you focused on the task at hand. You pulled off, stroking him slowly now and using your tongue to lick any leftover spots of cum off his head. As his breath evened, you pressed one more kiss to his head and then sat up and moved to lay next to him.

***

Roger turned towards you and you kissed him quickly. You tangled one leg between his and started brushing his hair away from his still flushed face. One of his hands rested on your waist, tapping out a simple rhythm.

“You’re-- you’re good at that,” he told you with a little smile.

“Thanks, so are you, pretty boy,” you said, smiling when he flushed. “Are you ever not going to blush when I call you that?”

He looked away, then looked back, an unbelieving laugh escaping him, “Probably not.”

“Good,” you laughed, bringing him in for another kiss.

_

Later, after cleaning up, as the two of you were redressing, Roger remembered that he had yet to see your closet.

“You promised,” he reminded teasingly.

“I remember,” you rolled your eyes, but opened the door and led him in. He stepped in slowly, taking in every inch of very organized racks of clothes, shoes, and accessories with his eyes, which was a lot of inches.

“This closet is literally the size of my living room. My clothes would only fill one rack. Oh, I want this amount of nice clothes,” Roger said wistfully, running his hands across the racks.

“You know, I could help with that, for a small price,” you said with a smile.

“Are you thinking… sex? Because I’m already feeling like your sugar baby with the coat immediately turning into us hooking up,” Roger said and you could not tell if he was joking.

A look of amused shock took over your face as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped, “I was thinking more like you keep helping me with my own shopping so I focus on finding the best things instead of buying everything in the store, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” Roger said with a sheepish smile.

“And excuse you, ‘immediately turning into us hooking up?’ it’s not like I jumped you in the store!” you said, pushing his shoulder.

“Well, you kind of did jump me,” he countered, stepping in front of you and placing his hands on your waist. You scoffed, not touching him. So he took your hands and put them on his shoulders, placing his back on your waist. You pretended to be mad and looked away, not making any move to separate yourself from him.

Roger leaned closer, only a few inches from your face, “I was gonna say that I wouldn't mind being your sugar baby, it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, looking at him, and he did. “It’s a sweet deal for you because you get stuff and sex. I can get sex from anyone, the only payment worth it from you is your sense of style.”

“Well then I’ll happily pay with that,” Roger nodded. He smiled and you rolled your eyes at his absurdity, but let him press his lips to yours in a kiss that made up for it.

★★★

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[thanks--for--listening]

are there still beautiful things?

ahahah guess who’s finally back! with another fic that i lowkey am not sure if i like but whatever here it is its back to dinah/helena except this time its a childhood au based on seven by taylor swift bc a bitch does be loving folklore. (also on ao3.)

~~

There was a spot by the beach, hidden away from the sand and the water, that only two people in the whole world had ever known about. Bushes and branches blocked the view from the ground, and leaves draped down to cover the entrance. It was Paradise, impossible to find if you didn’t know about it — there was no path, no sign. Just instinct and memory. Both of which Dinah had inherited. 

The sound of the other kids got quieter as she made her way through the dirt and trees, feeling for the familiar marker, the stub that meant she was almost there. She wasn’t sure she liked the silence, not when she didn’t have someone to share it with anymore. He’d sworn her to secrecy, and she always kept her promises, but Dinah hadn’t realized how lonely it would be to keep this secret all to herself.

The swing was exactly as she’d left it. He’d built it for her when they first found the spot, had promised it wouldn’t break, that it would be waiting for her every summer, and she’d never known him to be wrong but she still sighed in relief when she saw it. She didn’t know if she’d be able to get up without his help, but she’d grown since last year, and the difference between eight and nine was enough to reach the seat. Hanging from the branches above her, it gave her the height she needed to see the water through the leaves, to look down at the rest of the world and not have to worry about being seen. 

She wondered if he could see her up here. If he looked down on her the same way she looked down at everyone else. Mom said he did, but Mom believed in a lot of things that Dinah wasn’t sure about, and the world didn’t feel big enough for ghosts and heaven. Not when it already had magic. 

A noise pulled her back into reality, and she turned in time to watch a girl fall through the leaves and into Paradise. “Hey!” Dinah yelled without thinking, “You can’t be in here! This is mine!”

The girl jumped and turned toward her. For a minute Dinah forgot why she was yelling. She was the prettiest person she’d ever seen, except for Mom. Her hair was in two braids, each one long enough to pass her shoulders. Her eyes were so big she felt like she couldn’t stop looking at them, even if she’d wanted to. Which she didn’t. Once glance and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to stop looking.

The girl still hadn’t said anything, was just staring at her, and it was only then that Dinah realized she looked scared. “How did you find this place?” She asked, trying her best to sound less angry. 

“I didn’t — I mean, it was an accident.”

“No one’s supposed to be able to find me when I’m in here.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave, I promise, I just — can I hide here? Just for a little bit, and then you never have to see me again.”

Dinah jumped off the swing, stepped closer to the girl. She’d picked herself off the ground, and now, standing in front of one another, Dinah realized the other girl was just a little taller than her. Usually she hated being short, hated that no one ever saw her as anything other than tiny and cute and weak, but this girl almost looked like she was trying to be shorter, to take up less space. Dinah didn’t understand it at all. 

“Who are you hiding from?”

“Everyone. But mostly Sal.”

“Who’s Sal?”

“My driver.”

That explained the uniform, the fancy looking dress and the super tall socks and the church shoes. Dinah thought it looked all wrong on her. Like a costume, something she was dressing up in just for show. “You’re one of those super rich people then, aren’t you?”

The girl made a face, like the question confused her. “I don’t know. How do you know if you’re super rich?”

“Well, most people don’t pay other people to drive them around unless they’re really, really rich.”

“Oh.”

Dinah shook her head. She’d always known they didn’t have much, felt like she was constantly being reminded of it. She wondered what it would be like, to get to not think about money. To have so much you didn’t even realize you had it. 

She tried to not be mean. It was something Mom said she had to work on, so she took a breath and reminded herself that it wasn’t this girl’s fault her parents had money and Mom didn’t. “Okay, so why are you hiding from your driver?” Dinah smiled. “Is he a spy?”

“What? No.”

“A pirate?”

“No.”

Dinah hesitated, before lowering her voice and asking, “Is he trying to hurt you?”

The girl gasped. “No. Sal would never hurt me.” 

“Then why do you need to hide so badly?”

The girl looked down at the scuff marks that would surely be out the next time she wore those stupid shoes. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

The girl looked up, and she must have seen the truth in Dinah’s eyes, because she sighed and said, “He doesn’t ever leave me alone. Everywhere I go lately he’s always right behind me. I’m just sick of it. I’m ten years old, I don’t need to be babysat all the time.”

“You’re right.” She looked at Dinah in surprise, so she added, “My mom lets me come here all the time. And I’m only nine.”

“She does?”

Dinah nodded. “We live down the street. I know every corner of this place.”

“Does that mean you know all the best hiding spots?”

“Yep. But none of them are better than this one.” She sat down, motioned for the other girl to sit with her. “You can hide here. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”

“Thanks.” She slowly sat down next to her. “I’ve never been here before — Papa decided we needed to spend more time out of the house. Sal’s the one who picked the beach.”

“Did he not tell you where you were going? You’re not even wearing a bathing suit.”

“I didn’t have time to grab one — Papa had people coming over.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, but the other girl’s eyes had already widened, and Dinah didn’t know what she’d said but she’d seen that look before, knew it always meant something was wrong. 

“I’m not supposed to talk about it. About Papa. About business.”

Dinah shrugged. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” The other girl nodded, but she still seemed nervous. She didn’t know what it was, exactly, but there was something about the sight of her fidgeting with her braids, loosening strands of hair until they poked out between the crosses, that made Dinah feel like she’d do anything to get it to stop, to make her feel better. It possessed her, took over so quickly she didn’t have time to think before she opened her mouth and said, “My Dad used to build houses.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He built everything. He made me that swing,” she pointed behind her, “and he helped me make this place. Helped me hide it.”

“He sounds like a lot of fun.”

“He was.”

The girl’s eyes scrunched together, and her head tilted slightly as she asked, “Was?”

Dinah nodded, stared at her hands in her lap. “He died last year. It was an accident.”

“Oh.” 

“I don’t like to talk about it that much.”

“Then why are you telling me?” She looked up, watched the other girl hesitate before adding, “That wasn’t right, was it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that wasn’t what I was supposed to say. That’s not what people usually ask.”

Part of her wanted to lie, but she shook her head instead. “No, not really.”

The girl's hands drifted back up to her braids, and now she was the one who wouldn’t look Dinah in the eye. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I never know how to do things right.”

“It’s okay.” The girl gave her a look, as if she didn’t believe her. “I’m serious. Everyone always gets weird and fake when my Dad gets brought up. I’d rather get questions like yours. Even if I don’t know the answer.”

“Really?” Dinah nodded. “Mama always says that I have to start learning how to be normal. But I don’t think that’s something most people have to learn. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, I think normal is boring and stupid. You don’t need it.” The girl smiled, and Dinah couldn’t stop from mirroring it. “I’m Dinah,” she said, sticking her hand out in front of her.

The girl reached for it, but pulled back. “I can’t tell you my name.”

“What? Why not?”

“Papa says we aren’t supposed to ever let anyone know who we are unless they already know. He says we have to protect ourselves and the family.”

“This isn’t like Stranger Danger, though. I’m not going to try and kidnap you with candy and a puppy.”

“I know. But I still can’t tell you.”

Dinah wanted to get mad. She thought she would. The past year, everything seemed to set her off, to fuel a fire in her stomach that she hadn’t noticed before, but now...the fire was quiet. And she wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Well, I need to call you something,” she finally decided. They both sat there, thinking, and in the silence Dinah could hear the birds chirping above them. She looked up, watched as two flew into the tree that carried the swing, danced around one another before flying off. Even as they flew away they stayed close by. It was like they belonged together. 

“I don’t have any nicknames,” the other girl said, but Dinah kept staring at the sky, following the birds until they were nothing more than a speck in the distance. 

“How about Blackbird?” 

The girl frowned. “That’s an animal, not a name.”

“So? My Dad used to call my Mom Canary. That means animals can also be names.”

“But why Blackbird?”

“My mom sings a song about one a lot. It’s really pretty. So the bird must be pretty, too.”

“Your Mom’s a singer?”

Dinah nodded. “That’s why Dad used to call her Canary. She has a different job to make money, but singing is her favorite. Just like me.”

“Then maybe I should call you that, too. So we both have nicknames.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” Dinah couldn’t stop from smiling, especially when Blackbird smiled back at her.

It faded as she turned toward the leaves. Dinah stared at them too, and a second later she heard the footsteps. Neither of them breathed as the sound passed by Paradise; it was only when they got quieter again that Blackbird exhaled. 

“That’s probably Sal looking for me.”

“Will you come back?” She couldn’t stop the hope from slipping into her voice, from making her sound as desperate as she knew she was. Friends weren’t very easy to come by, and she wasn’t ready to let go of this one. Not yet. 

“I don’t know — I’ll try. I’ll tell Sal to bring me back next time I have to get out of the house. He should listen to me.”

“Well, you’ll know where to find me if you do. I’m always here.”

Blackbird smiled, and it looked like she was about to leave, before she stopped. The smile disappeared as she said, “You can’t tell anyone about me. Ever.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

She looked so afraid. Dinah didn’t understand why it mattered, but she held out her pinkie anyway. When Blackbird just stared at it, she sighed and reached for hers, forced their fingers to intertwine. 

“What are you doing?” 

“It’s a pinkie swear,” Dinah told her. “It’s stronger than a promise. It means I won’t ever tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

Blackbird stared at their hands, their fingers still tied together. Dinah looked at them, too. It felt right. She couldn’t explain why, but she knew she didn’t want it to stop. 

The footsteps went by again, and she watched Blackbird jump, tug her hand back. She waited ten more seconds, staring at Dinah the entire time, before she disappeared, backed out of Paradise and into reality. 

—

A whole week passed before she saw her again. 

She’d begun to worry that she would never come back. Dinah told herself that not everyone had the freedom she did, that if Blackbird didn’t show it wasn’t because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t get away. Convincing herself took more work as the days passed. It wouldn't have been the first time she thought she’d made a friend only for them to bail on her. She knew people lied, but something about this girl had felt different. And she’d seen Paradise — she had to come back.

It was on Friday, as she sat on the swing trying to convince herself to not lose hope, that the leaves rustled. She turned and watched her walk in slowly, like she didn’t believe anyone would be waiting for her. Dinah saw the moment she saw her, saw the smile creep onto her face, and she knew she wore one, too. 

“You came back.”

“You waited for me.”

Dinah jumped off the swing. She still had the same two braids as last time, but the church dress was gone; instead, Blackbird was wearing a white tank top and skirt. It still didn’t look like her. “You’re not dressed for the beach again.”

“I know — we were on our way home from Tennis lessons when Sal turned around.”

“I didn’t know you played tennis.”

“I do lots of things. Mama loves activities. She says it makes us dignified, but I don’t really know what that means.”

Dinah shrugged. “I play soccer during the school year, but I don’t do much during the summer. Except when Mom teaches me guitar. What do you do?”

She spoke like she was reading from a book, saying another person’s words. “Fencing and Chinese lessons on Monday’s. Archery and Spanish on Tuesday’s. Piano and Italian on Wednesday’s. Violin and Gymnastics on Thursday’s. Chess and Tennis on Friday’s. The weekend is for practice. And church.”

“Wow. That’s a lot.” 

Blackbird shrugged. “Mama says they’re all supposed to teach me stuff, but sometimes I think she just wants to keep us out of the house.”

“Us?”

“My brother and I. He has his own lessons.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Blackbird smiled, which made Dinah smile. “Yeah. He’s only seven, but he’s already way smarter than I am. And he’s really funny, except for when he’s being annoying.”

“You’re so lucky. You have a brother, and you play two instruments. I only know guitar, and I’m not even good at it yet.”

She shook her head. “You’re the lucky one, Canary. You get to come here whenever you want. You don’t have to hide from your parents.”

Dinah bit her lip. She knew she could lie, knew if she agreed Blackbird would think nothing of it, but when she tried to nod, she couldn’t. She didn’t want to — not with her. “Actually, I kinda do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my mom doesn’t think I’m alone when I come here. She thinks I have all these friends I hang out with. If she knew I didn’t have any, she’d worry. And she has enough to worry about already.”

“You don’t have other friends?” The question was so genuine Dinah couldn’t get mad. She didn’t say it like she was trying to make fun of her, but like she didn’t believe it. Like Dinah being friendless couldn’t possibly be true. 

“No. After my dad, I got kinda mad at everyone. Wasn’t very fun to be around. And now…” she shrugged. “I don’t really know how to try again. Everyone at school’s already made up their minds about me.”

Blackbird didn’t say anything. Dinah wondered if she’d done it again, managed to ruin it before they could even start, but then she sighed. “I’m not sure how to help,” she finally said, “because I don’t have any friends, either.”

“You don’t?”

She shook her head. “My family…intimidates people. The other girls at school are told not to talk to me.”

The anger came almost instantly. “Well, they’re dumb! Who cares what your family does?”

“They’re not dumb — they’re scared. But I’m not entirely sure why. I think it has to do with the business, but no one will tell me what that is.”

Realization hit her. “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me your name? So I wouldn’t be scared?”

Blackbird wouldn’t look at her. “It might have been part of it.”

Dinah reached for her, ignored the way her nerves seemed to jump as she grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t care who your family is — nothing about you could ever scare me away.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I’m not a coward — plus, it doesn’t matter what your last name is. You’re not scary. Especially when you’re dressed like that.” 

She smiled, and Dinah knew she should let go of her hand now, but she lingered, just a little. It felt nice, and Blackbird wasn’t pulling away. So they sat there for a minute, neither of them saying anything, and Dinah didn’t usually like silence, but she didn’t mind this one. 

“Hey, did I tell you what we called this place?” She eventually asked. Blackbird shook her head. Dinah smiled, stood up and spread her arms out wide, did her best to act as dramatic as possible. “This,” she announced, “is Paradise.”

Blackbird laughed, and Dinah thought it might be the most beautiful sound in the world. “It’s perfect. I never want to leave.”

—

Their meetings were sporadic at best. Blackbird rarely showed up on the same days or at the same times, but Dinah could usually count on seeing her at least a few times each week. She always wore something frilly and fake, and Dinah wasn’t sure what looked like her, but she knew it wasn’t anything she’d ever worn. 

They spent most of their time talking. She was always having to listen for Sal, and they never knew when she’d be able to come back, so they fit as much as they could into every day. Dinah told her about the best Saturday morning cartoons (Blackbird’s parents wouldn’t let her or her brother watch them), and she told Dinah about all her different lessons. Dinah learned that she liked archery and the piano best, and hated chess most of all. 

“It’s too slow,” she complained, “and I always lose.”

“That’s why you should just play checkers instead,” Dinah kept telling her. “It’s faster and way more fun.”

“Mama says chess teaches you strategy and patience.”

“When are you ever gonna need to know how to do strategy?”

She laughed at that. “Strategy isn’t something you do, it’s something you learn.”

“Well, it sounds boring. It’s summer! You’re not supposed to be learning anything!”

“Not in my family.” She laughed, but it always made Dinah a little sad to hear her talk like that. Blackbird had looked so confused the first time she asked why she didn’t just quit whatever she didn’t like. She’d said that what she did wasn’t up to her; Dinah decided then that she wasn’t a fan of either of Blackbird’s parents, not if they kept her from doing fun stuff. From figuring out what she liked. Who she was. 

—

She remembered the first time Blackbird used the swing. Dinah had caught her staring at it for weeks, but she didn’t say anything. Sharing Paradise was one thing, but he’d made the swing for her. It felt wrong to let anyone else use it. 

The more time they spent together, the more she thought maybe she was looking at this all wrong. He might have made Paradise for her to hide in, but that didn’t mean she had to hide alone. And she wanted Blackbird to be happy. She was beginning to think she wanted that more than anything else. 

So the next time she caught her looking, Dinah decided not to ignore it. “Do you wanna use it?”

She looked at her like a deer caught in headlights, like the very act of wanting it was something to feel guilty about, and whatever hesitation Dinah might have had disappeared instantaneously. She stood up, held her arm out and waited for her to take it; it took her a minute, but Dinah would have waited hours if that’s what she needed.

“You can’t swing too hard, otherwise the branch could give out,” she said as they walked up to it. “But you can see the whole beach from up there.”

Blackbird reached for the seat, letting her hand drift over the wood. “Are you sure I’m not going to break it?”

“I’m positive.”

Dinah watched as she jumped up, clinging to the rope that tied it to the tree above them. Part of her wanted to close her eyes, to bring up the view she’d memorized ages ago, to pretend they were both looking at it at the same time, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away. Not when Blackbird was staring at the beach with wide eyes and wearing a smile that blew the view itself out of the water. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. 

Dinah hummed in agreement. “Dad used to say this beach was the secret gem of Gotham. That it stayed beautiful because not many people knew about it.”

“He was right.” She seemed to speak on instinct, and Dinah watched as she brought herself back down to earth, her face changing along the way. “He made this for you. It’s special. I shouldn’t be up here.”

“No, it’s okay.” She had to reach forward to stop her from jumping off the seat. “Stay.”

“But—“

“But nothing.” She looked at her like she didn’t believe it, and Dinah had to search for the words to explain what had changed. “My dad made this whole place for us to be together. He built me the swing so I could see what he saw. But he’s gone now, and I don’t want to be alone here anymore.”

She didn’t look fully convinced, but she also didn’t try and jump off again, so Dinah counted it as a win. They stood there, listening to the birds and the bugs and everything else around them. It was funny, she thought, how different the world sounded when there was someone else with you to listen. How nature’s noise didn’t feel like it was desperately trying to fill the space around her anymore. 

—

There were some days when Blackbird was quiet. She’d come in and sit down, never saying much or looking up at her. It was almost like she was in a trance, like she was lost in her own head, and Dinah couldn’t do anything but wait for her to find her way out again. On the quiet days, she sat with her, stared up at the sky and made sure to stay close enough so that she always knew she was there. 

It had started as one of those days, until Blackbird broke her own silence. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.”

“How does it feel? To lose someone?”

Dinah couldn’t stare at the ground fast enough. “It’s not great.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m not — I don’t want to make you sad. Or talk about it if I’m not allowed to ask.”

“No. It’s okay,” she said, and she was surprised to find that she was telling the truth. Everyone else who asked her about it only pissed her off, but something made this different. Made her different.

“It’s just — I don’t think I’m going to be very good at losing people. And I want to be prepared for when it happens. I don’t want to make things worse the way I always do.”

“You could never make anything worse.”

“I already do. With everything. It’s like the whole world was given a rule book except me, and now I never know how I’m supposed to act or feel or think, and everyone can see it but no one will tell me the right answers.” She waited a second, before adding, “I think you’re the only person who doesn’t notice.”

If Dinah could fight everyone who’d ever made her feel that way, she would. “The world is wrong, then,” she said, “if they can’t see what I see.”

Neither of them spoke for a minute. Dinah thought about her question, thought about the blurry days from right after and the nights she heard Mom pretend she wasn’t crying. She thought about all the months since, and she didn’t know which part was the most important, but she knew that Blackbird deserved to hear the truth. Or some version of it, at least. 

“Losing people is weird. You keep thinking it’s going to stop hurting eventually, but it doesn’t. Not really. The hurt just...changes. Like, some days I feel totally normal, and then something little happens, and it’s like I can’t breathe all of a sudden. Other days the pain just kinda sits in the background of everything I do, and no matter how much I try to ignore it, I can’t.”

“That sounds really hard.”

“Yeah. The worst part is that there’s no one to blame. It just happened. Mom says that as more time passes, it’ll get easier, but she also says we have to do the work to heal before that can happen. I don’t really know what she means when she says that, but I pretend like I do. I think it helps her, to think that I understand.”

Blackbird closed her eyes. “I hope I never have to lose anyone. And I hope you don’t have to anymore, either.”

Dinah tried to smile, but she couldn’t quite find it. “Yeah. Me too.”

—

“Do you believe in magic, Blackbird?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Too good to be true.”

Dinah hesitated, before asking, “Would you believe me if I said I have magic?”

She looked up, and Dinah watched her think it over before answering. “Yes.”

“Why? You just said you don’t believe in it.”

“I believe in you. And I don’t think you’d ever lie to me. So if you told me you could do magic, then you can do magic.”

Dinah hesitated, before sitting up. “Okay. If I tell you this, you can’t tell anyone else. Ever.”

Blackbird sat up, too, stuck her pinkie out. Dinah reached for it, and while they held onto each other, she whispered, “My mom has superpowers, and I do, too.”

Her eyes widened. “What can you do?”

“Well, I can't do it yet. Not really. But my mom can destroy things with just her voice. And she’s gonna teach me how to do it when I’m older.”

“Wow.” She’d never told anyone before, but now, looking at her, she wasn’t sure why Mom had been so worried about people knowing their secret. Blackbird wasn’t scared of her. If anything, she seemed...amazed. Like Dinah’s powers made her special. Like Dinah was special.

“Mom says we have to hide it for now, but one day we’re gonna use them for good.”

“How?”

Dinah shrugged. “I guess fight bad guys.”

“Oh! Like the girls in your cartoon!”

She laughed. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

“I like that idea,” she said. “You would be a good superhero.”

Dinah gasped. “You should be one with me!”

“But I don’t have any superpowers.”

“Who cares? You can use your fencing swords! Or your bow and arrow! Or all that chess strategy.” Blackbird smiled, but she still looked like she didn’t believe it. Like she couldn’t see it. “We could wear matching costumes,” Dinah continued. “And we can use Paradise as our superhero base.”

“I guess I could be a good sidekick.”

Dinah gasped, reached over and punched her on the arm. “Don’t say that! We’d both be the heroes.”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Who cares? We’ll be grown-ups — we can make our own rules.”

She laughed, but it didn’t last very long. “It just doesn’t seem very likely.”

“Your parents won’t always be able to tell you what to do and where to go. One day, you’ll get to decide everything for yourself.”

Blackbird just shrugged. “Maybe.”

Dinah knew they could end it at that, but something in her didn’t want to let go of this just yet. “What color would you want your superhero costume to be?”

“I don’t know. Whatever color you like, I guess.”

She shook her head. “No, you have to pick for yourself. What’s your favorite color?”

“Mama says I look nice in green.”

“But what do you like?”

“I don’t know. Green, I guess. It’s easier to like whatever Mama likes.”

Dinah wasn’t sure what it was about today, what made this time different from the other days they’d spent here, but she couldn’t take it anymore. The anger came up before she could stop it. “What’s wrong with you?! Why don’t you ever stand up for yourself?”

She wanted the words back as soon as they came out. She wanted to rewind, wanted to be nicer, calmer, but instead she was stuck, forced to watch the way Blackbird’s face fell, the way her eyes widened and filled with tears. Her hand jumped up to her braids. She’d almost forgotten about the habit, hadn’t seen it in over a month, and she hated herself for being the reason it came back. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and Dinah couldn’t stand that her voice sounded that small, that she was the reason for it. She tried to stand up, tried to find the words to make it better, but Blackbird was gone before she had the chance, backing out of Paradise and disappearing among the trees.

—

She spent three days practicing what to say if she ever came back. She wrote it down, memorized it, stared in the mirror and repeated herself over and over and over again. Not apologizing had stopped her from getting her old friends back; she wasn’t going to let it stop her from losing this one. 

With every day that passed, she tried to imagine what Blackbird was doing. Whether she was winning in fencing. Whether she was learning a new song on the piano. Whether she was thinking about her. Missing her. Dinah thought about her life and wondered if maybe she’d overestimated what Paradise had to offer, if maybe she’d taken away its only appeal when she yelled at her. 

She was sitting on the swing when she finally saw her again. It almost felt familiar — the sound of the leaves rustling, Dinah turning back to find a skittish girl standing behind her. “You came back,” she said, instinct driving her off-script before she could even start. “I wasn’t sure that you would.”

“I wasn’t sure that you’d want me to come back.”

“No! I mean, yes! I do! I do want you back!” Dinah jumped off the swing, reached for her hands and prayed she wouldn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry, Blackbird. I never should have yelled at you like that. I didn’t mean it, any of it.”

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have run away.”

Dinah shook her head. “No, this was all my fault. I didn’t mean to get upset. I just...I don’t like seeing you be mean to yourself. And I don’t like that you feel like you can’t be a person outside of your family. I think that’s what I was angry about, but I took it out on you. And that was wrong.”

“Why does that make you angry?” Dinah usually loved how every question she had felt honest and genuine, but she didn’t want her to ever have to question this. 

“Because I want you to be happy.”

“Why?”

“Because I think everyone deserves to be happy, but especially you. I care more about you being happy than anyone else. You're my best friend.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?” 

“Of course.”

“I think you’re my best friend, too, Canary. I promise I’ll never run away from you again.”

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to jump or cry or scream; instead, she said, “I know you don’t like them, but I’m going to hug you now, because if I don’t I think I might explode.”

Blackbird laughed, and Dinah couldn’t help herself anymore. She flung her arms around her, squeezed as tight as she could. With her head against her chest, she could feel the way her body moved when she laughed, could feel the softness of those stupid clothes, could even hear her heart beating, the sound quiet but strong. She decided this, not Paradise, was her favorite place in the world.

“Would you be mad,” Blackbird said hesitantly, “if I told you I still don’t know what my favorite color is?” 

Dinah fought back a smile, even though she knew she couldn’t see her face. “No. We don’t have to be superheroes until we’re super old, anyway. I’m sure you’ll figure it out by then.” She forced herself to step back, to let go, to look her in the eyes. “Besides, whatever color you like now could change. So much will probably be different by the time we grow up.”

“Not us, though, right?”

“No,” Dinah said, and she knew she was telling the truth when she promised, “We won’t ever change.”

—

Dinah saw her for two weeks straight at the beginning of August. The first week was perfect. The days felt special — earned, almost. As if it was their reward for having spent the rest of the summer stealing minutes and hours whenever they could. The sun never left, and it took Sal longer and longer to come looking for her. Most days, Dinah prayed he wouldn’t show, that his footsteps wouldn’t ever make themselves heard along their dirt path, and during that first week, her wish almost felt like it was coming true. 

On the eighth day, though, Blackbird burst through the walls of Paradise in tears. Dinah watched for a second, shock freezing her in place. Once it wore off, she had to fight the urge to throw her arms around her, to hold her so tight that she couldn’t feel anything else. Dinah remembered days when she used to cry like this. Sometimes she needed the pain, needed to scream and cry just to get it all out, so she sat next to her, put her head on her shoulder and waited for her breaths to slow. 

When they did, she had to bite back all her questions. She added patience to the list of reasons she wished she could tell her Mom about Blackbird, put it right next to the other things their relationship proved: that she hadn’t lost the ability to be a friend to someone, that she hadn’t been lying all summer, that she’d be okay. But she’d made a promise. And no matter how selfish she wanted to be, she wasn’t in the habit of breaking promises. So she waited. And waited. And after what felt like forever, Blackbird finally spoke. 

“I heard him,” she whispered, “on the phone.”

“Heard who?”

“Papa.” She stared at the trees in front of them, and she spoke in a voice Dinah didn’t recognize. It was almost anger, but not quite. Almost sadness, too. Somewhere in between, maybe, but whatever it was, whatever she was feeling, it was heavy. Dinah fought back the thought that maybe she wasn’t strong enough to help carry it.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t hear it all. He didn’t know I was there. But it was the way he said it. It…” she shivered, and Dinah finally put an arm around her, tried to pull her closer. “I’ve never heard him talk like that before. Not to me, not to anyone.”

For the first time she turned, and all Dinah could see was panic. “On the phone, he...he was threatening people. He was yelling and using bad words, and he was acting really, really scary, but I don’t think it was pretend. I think he meant it all.”

Dinah didn’t need to know anything else. “Okay. Then you’re not going back.”

The panic melted into confusion almost instantly. “What?”

“Home. You’re not going back. Not if your dad is scaring you.”

“Where would I go?”

“You can come live with me. My mom won’t mind. I know she won’t.”

Blackbird shook her head. “She wouldn’t want me.”

“Of course she would. You’re nice and smart and fun and pretty. Anybody would want you.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. If you came and lived with me, it would be like Paradise, but every single day.” She smiled, let herself run away with the idea. “You could sleep in my room with me, and we could stay up late every night, and we could come here whenever we wanted.”

She smiled, just a little bit. “It does sound fun.”

“It would be perfect! You wouldn’t have to be scared all the time, and I wouldn’t have to be alone.”

For a minute, it looked like she let herself see it. The life they both wanted, almost within their reach. But it didn’t last. “My family would find me.”

“Then...we’ll run away! Just the two of us. We’ll go somewhere so far they’ll never find us.”

“How? We’re just kids.”

“We can jump on a train. Or become pirates and sail across the ocean.” She saw the hope in her eyes fading away. Dinah desperately tried to get it back. “Or maybe I can learn to drive, and I’ll take my dad’s old truck and come get you, or—“

“It doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “Nowhere in the world is far enough that they won’t find me. They’d never let me go.”

“Not even if you asked?”

Blackbird shook her head. “They need me. For business.”

“Why would they need you for that? You’re ten.”

“Not now — later. My family,” she said softly. “They’re all part of it. Whatever it is. Whatever we do. And one day, I will be, too.” 

She spoke as if the words were a realization. Dinah watched her eyes go wide, her hands creeping toward her braids. “Hey,” Dinah reached for them, tried to pull them away from her hair. “It’ll be okay.”

Blackbird shook her head. “I think it already started. I just didn’t notice.”

“What are you talking about? What’s already started?”

“Letting us in on the secret. I think...I think I’m going to know everything soon.”

“Didn’t you want to know?”

“Not anymore.” She stood up suddenly, started pacing around Paradise. “I’m the oldest. It’s gonna be me. And I’m going to have to mean it all, too.”

“Wait, Blackbird, slow down. What’s going to be you?”

She froze, looked down at her as if it was obvious. “I’m going to be in charge. Of the business.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone. Mama, Papa, my aunts and uncles. That’s what they meant when they said we were the legacies. Next in line. It was always going to be me or Pino, but if the one in charge is going to have to…” she shook her head. “It has to be me. I won’t let it be him.”

Dinah tried to wrap her mind around what she was saying, but it was like trying to do a puzzle while missing half of the pieces — the picture just didn’t make any sense. “But do you want to do it? Be in charge and be mean to people?”

“Don’t you get it?!” Now, for the first time all summer, Dinah was seeing how anger, plain and simple, looked on her. “I don’t get to do what I want. Ever. I never have and I never will. I can’t hide, I can’t run away. Nothing in the world can stop this from happening.”

They sat in the silence for a minute. It hurt more than the ones she’d grown used to — as if it was filled with pain instead of comfort, anger instead of ease. She wanted to fight back. She wanted to stand up and yell, to say that she was stronger, that she could fight it. She could save her. But Dinah had nothing to offer. She was small and adults were big, and nothing she did could change that. Not yet, at least. Not now.

But not forever. Mom always told her that the power inside of her, inside both of them, would let them help people. One day, Dinah would be the powerful one. The hero. She’d learn, and she’d grow, and she’d never have to feel helpless again. Her voice would save them both — all she needed was patience. 

“I’ll stop it,” she finally said. “When I’m older and stronger and can use my powers. I’ll come save you. I’ll protect you. You just have to wait for me.”

“How? How could you stop it?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll figure out a way. And you won’t ever have to be what they want you to be. You won’t have to do anything unless you want to.” She stuck her pinkie out before she could decide whether it was a good idea or not. “I promise.”

Blackbird looked like she was going to protest, but she didn’t. She nodded and locked pinkies with her, and Dinah prayed she wasn’t making a promise she couldn’t keep.

—

The following Monday came heavy with the truth neither of them wanted to acknowledge. It was hidden in every word they said, in the silence between. They skirted around it, tried to ignore it as long as they could, but with every passing minute, she knew it only grew stronger: the feeling of running out of time.

Dinah broke first. “What are we going to do when school starts again?”

Blackbird just shrugged. She was laying down, staring up at the sky. Dinah sat on the swing, and she was tempted to look up with her, to try and find whatever had caught her attention, but nothing the world had to offer could make her take her eyes off Blackbird. Not when she wasn’t sure how much longer she had to memorize the sight of her. 

“I don’t want to think about school.”

“Yeah. Me neither.” She hesitated, before adding, “I wish we got to go to school together.”

“We wouldn’t be in the same grade, though. I’m a year older than you, remember?”

“Yeah, but we could still see each other during recess and lunch. Plus, just knowing you’re there would make it better.”

“You would hate my school. We have to wear uniforms every single day. Dresses with tights and fancy shoes.”

“I would wear them for you,” Dinah said, and she saw her smile, still staring at the sky. “You would hate my school, too — the only afterschool activity we have is basketball. Nothing as fancy as everything you do.”

“I would give up all of my lessons for you,” she said back, and Dinah didn’t know what to do with the way her words made her feel. Warm and fuzzy and seen. It made her never want to hide again. 

Blackbird turned, shifted onto her elbows so they were facing each other. “Canary,” she said, and Dinah could hear it in her voice that the time for pretending was over. “Are we ever going to see each other again after this week?”

“Of course we are,” she responded with more confidence than she had.

“How? When?”

“I don’t know. But even if we have to spend all year without each other, we can always come back to Paradise next summer.”

“That’s a long time from now.”

“Yeah,” Dinah said, “but I’d wait forever if I had to. Best friends don’t give up on each other.”

Blackbird nodded, with more determination than Dinah had ever seen from her. “I believe you,” she said, “but if it’s going to be that long, we should make this week the best week ever. Do everything we want before we have to wait.”

She knew exactly what she wanted to do, had known for a while, but found the courage in Blackbird’s conviction to follow through, to make a plan and stick with it. “Okay,” she said. “Best week ever.”

—

“I have a surprise for you,” Dinah said the minute Blackbird stepped into Paradise on Tuesday. She pulled the guitar from behind her back and watched as her eyes widened. 

“Are you going to play for me?” Any nerves she might have had slipped away with the question. Dinah wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Blackbird sound that excited. And it was all because of her. The thought made it impossible to fight back a smile.

She nodded, sat down and heard Blackbird sit down across from her. She’d spent all morning anxiously tuning the strings the way Mom had shown her, playing the hard parts over and over again until she knew she wouldn’t mess them up.  

“Remember when we first met, how I told you about that song? The one my mom likes to sing?” She fiddled with a couple of the strings as she talked, listened to make sure the notes sounded the way they were supposed to. 

“The one about the Blackbird?” She asked, and Dinah smiled, answered her with chords, watched her fingers to make sure they moved to the right places at the right time. Her first breath shook just a little but she let the words out anyway:

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these broken wings and learn to fly,

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

She didn’t trust her hands not to falter, not if she looked up, looked at her, but she stole a glance anyway, felt her fingers stumble across the notes as she took in the sight of her. Blackbird was smiling, wider than she’d ever seen. Dinah knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to keep going if she kept her eyes up, so she forced them down, let the verses ease in one after the other. The chorus came quickly and she let it, let her voice lead her instead of her mind, let it carry her through the melody. Singing had always come easily to her but now it felt effortless, as natural as breathing. 

She waited until the song ended, the last guitar notes fading into nothing more than an echo, before letting her eyes drift back up to Blackbird’s. She was wearing the same smile she’d spotted earlier, only this time it was accompanied by a blush in her cheeks and tears in her eyes. They sat in the silence for a moment, and Dinah wouldn’t have minded if it never stopped, if they’d been able to live in that moment forever.

“That was beautiful,” she eventually told her, voice barely over a whisper. 

Dinah felt heat underneath her own cheeks. “It sounds better when my Mom sings it,” she confessed, “but I had her teach it to me after we met. I’ve been practicing all summer.”

“I don’t care what your mom sounds like — no one could possibly sing that better than you.”

She laughed. “I guess I live up to my name, then.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.” She hesitated, before adding, “I don’t ever think I’ll live up to mine. To that song.”

“You already have,” Dinah told her. “You’re better and more beautiful than any piece of music.”

She blushed some more, her cheeks filling with bright red, and Dinah couldn’t help but laugh. “I wish we could be like the song and just fly away,” she sighed, and Dinah thought she looked hopeful this time. Like she could see it. Like part of her was beginning to believe it might actually come true. 

“One day, we will.” 

Blackbird just looked at her. Dinah couldn’t explain the way she felt, couldn’t find words or lyrics or melodies to match a look like that. All she could do was take it in.

“Can you sing to me again?” She asked. Dinah smiled, nodded, adjusted her fingers and let the notes fill the space around them, let them build until the rest of the word faded away. 

—

On Wednesday, it was Blackbird who walked into Paradise with her hands hidden behind her back. 

“I have a surprise this time,” she told her, and Dinah smiled, stood up and stared at the object she held out in her hands.

“You brought...a pocket knife?”

She nodded, completely unfazed. “It’s Sal’s. I found it in the car today. I was thinking we could use it to write our name on one of the trees. That way anyone who finds this place will always know that it’s ours.”

“You’re so smart,” she told her as she turned her head, looked around Paradise for the perfect spot. She gasped when she found it, staring back at her in plain sight. “We should write it on the swing!”

She ran toward it, but when she turned around, Blackbird hadn’t moved. “Your dad made that for you,” she said softly. “I can’t put my name on there.”

“It’s okay — I want you to.”

“But—but it’s special!”

“You’re special,” she told her, and Blackbird looked down, began fidgeting with the knife. Dinah walked over, reached out and held onto her hands until she felt them stop. 

“Why?” Her voice was so quiet, Dinah wasn’t sure she would have heard her if they hadn’t been standing inches apart. 

“You’re the only person I know who looks at me and doesn’t see someone broken. And I want to remember that.”

She looked up then, freezing her in place with nothing more than her eyes. “How could anyone ever see you as broken?”

“Doesn’t matter. Because you don’t. So would you please come over and help me carve our names onto this swing?”

She waited a minute, staring at Dinah as if she was giving her a chance to change her mind; Dinah knew she never would. Blackbird must have realized it, too, because she nodded, held onto her hand as they stepped over toward the swing. 

Dinah flipped it over. “The back isn’t polished, so it’ll be easier to put them here.”

“Is it okay if we use our nicknames?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Who you are doesn’t change just because someone calls you something different. Here,” Dinah said, grabbing the knife out of Blackbird’s hand and flipping it open. “I’ll go first.”

“Be careful,” she said. “I’ve never actually used a knife like this before.”

“Don’t worry — I used to watch my dad do stuff like this all the time. We just have to be slow and careful, and never aim the knife toward our bodies.”

It was only when she started carving that Blackbird let go of her hand, moving to hold the swing steady instead. Dinah kept her eyes down as she worked, watched as each letter took shape. It wasn’t as clean as she’d have liked, but it would have to be good enough. 

“Okay,” she said, taking a step back and holding out the knife. “Your turn.”

Blackbird moved even slower than she did. She carved each letter with precision and grace that Dinah knew she’d never have. When she got to the letter c, she started and stopped, frowning at the wood in front of her. Dinah didn’t wait for her to ask for help, knew that if she did, she’d be waiting a lifetime; instead, she walked to the other side of the swing, placed her hand on Blackbird’s and helped her finish the letter, and then the next, and then every one after that. When it was done, Dinah waited, just an extra second, before stepping backwards, letting space grow between them again. 

“There,” she said. “It’s ours. Blackbird and Canary will forever have this spot marked.”

“What happens if someone moves the swing?”

“They won’t,” she replied instinctively, before deciding to add, “and if they do, we’ll just find it and bring it back. We won’t let anyone take Paradise away.”

“We can do that?”

“We can do anything.”

Blackbird smiled. “If the world thinks you’re broken, then I’m glad I get to be broken with you.”

“You’re not broken. Not even a little bit.”

“And neither are you. So maybe it’s everyone else that’s shattered. Not us.”

“Yeah,” Dinah smiled, and she knew she wasn’t pretending anymore when she agreed, “Not us.”

—

The weather on Thursday was perfect. Dinah remembered staring at the sky and thinking it looked fake, that it must have been a painting, because real skies couldn’t possibly be that blue. The sun was shining, and Paradise was theirs, and not even the threat of the end of summer could ruin her day. 

Blackbird was sitting in front of her. She looked the way she always did, with her two braids and that church dress and those stupid shoes she’d worn so many times. Staring at her, Dinah wondered whether she’d ever see the real Blackbird, not the one her parents controlled. What would that girl look like? Did she even know?

“Why are you staring at me?” Her voice knocked her out of her own thoughts. 

“No reason,” Dinah replied quickly, before impulsively asking, “Can I braid your hair?”

“It’s already braided.”

“No, I mean, can I take it out and do a different braid?”

“Why?”

Dinah shrugged. “You always wear it the same way. Plus, Mom’s been teaching me how to do all kinds of braids. I think I’m getting pretty good at it.”

“My mom braids my hair, too,” Blackbird said. “She’s the one who does it like this every morning. She’ll notice if it’s different.”

“I can rebraid it like that before you have to leave. I just wanna see what you look like with something different.” 

“Okay,” she said, and Dinah wasn’t sure why she seemed nervous all of a sudden, but she decided she didn’t want to push it. Not today, when they only had tomorrow left.

She watched as she reached for the hair ties, separating each strand until her hair hung loose across her shoulders. It felt longer this way, and part of her didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want to change it at all. She looked older, too, and more relaxed. She hadn’t realized hair could change a person so much. Maybe it was its own kind of magic.

“Why are you staring again?” Dinah could see the way her cheeks began turning red, and she smiled, reached out for it before she could help herself. 

“You look really pretty with your hair down,” she told her, running her fingers though it as she got up and kneeled behind her. “You should wear it like this more often.”

“Thanks,” she said, and Dinah couldn’t see her face but she knew she was blushing again. “How are you going to braid it?”

“I think I’m gonna start up here, kinda on the side,” she told her, “and then it’ll come all the way around to your other shoulder.”

They didn’t talk much as she worked. Dinah didn’t expect to be grateful for the silence, not on their second to last day, but there was something nice about the quiet. There always had been. With her other friends, she used to hate it when they had nothing to say, but Blackbird made it easy. Blackbird made everything easy. 

Dinah finally broke it when she asked for her hair tie. She tied it off, moved in front of her and brought the end of the braid with her, laying it down so it just barely rested on her shoulder. 

“How does it look?”

Dinah didn’t know how to explain that it made her look like a princess straight from the movies she watched and books she read, so she settled for, “I think it looks pretty good. I wish I had a mirror or something to show you.”

“That’s okay,” she said softly. “I trust you.”

They sat like that for another minute, face to face, the grass and dirt and air keeping the rest of the world locked away. She wished more than anything that they could stay right here forever. That nothing ever had to change. That time could stop, rewind and let her do this whole summer all over again. 

She watched Blackbird’s face, saw the smile slowly fade away. “You look sad. What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to miss you,” Dinah said softly.

“I’m not leaving yet. We still have tomorrow.”

“And after that?”

Blackbird looked down, and Dinah saw her fidget with the extra hair tie now wrapped around her wrist. “After that, we go back to real life.”

“I hate real life.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“How am I going to last until next summer?”

“Maybe,” she said, and she looked up with the tiniest smile. “Maybe we can write letters to each other. And we can hold onto them until next year, and then when we see each other again we can read them and catch up on everything we missed. And maybe that’ll make it feel like we’re still here. Like we still get to talk to one another.”

“It won’t be the same,” she snapped. She saw Blackbird’s face fall, and quickly added, “But it’s better than nothing. We should do it.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s a stupid idea.”

“No, it’s not stupid. I’m sorry. I just wish we could talk more.”

“So do I. You’re the only person I actually like talking to. Well, you and my brother, but he gets tired of talking really fast.”

“At least you have a brother. I won’t have anyone to talk to anymore.”

“You have your mom,” she said, “and you can—“ she froze, her eyes wide and her body completely still.

“Blackbird, wha—“ 

“Shh!” She lunged forward, threw her hand over Dinah’s mouth; a few seconds later she heard it. Footsteps, familiar ones, passing right by them and then disappearing. 

“Is that Sal? Already?” She whispered. 

“It has to be,” she said as she stood up. Dinah watched her reach for her braids and only finding one, the panic growing as she frantically undid the hair tie. 

“Here, let me help.” Dinah jumped up with her, undoing all of her work as fast as she could. “Why is he already looking for you? You just got here.”

“I don’t know. But I have to hurry. I don’t want him to find us.” Dinah stepped back, watched as Blackbird shook her unbraided hair out and ran her fingers through it. “I’ll catch him on his way back down.”

“Wait!” Dinah reached out, grabbed her arm before she could step through the leaves. “You’ll be back tomorrow, though, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Promise?” She asked, and Blackbird opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the footsteps passed them by again. Dinah watched as she brought a finger to her lips, before slipping through the leaves. 

Dinah knew she shouldn’t follow. Most days, Blackbird left before he came looking, but now they were right outside, and she couldn’t help herself. She crept forward, stuck her head out just enough to see them without being spotted. They’d only made it a few steps past Paradise, but Blackbird had found her way in front of him, so Dinah could only see his back. 

“Boss says I’ve got to get you back home, kid.” Dinah thought his voice sounded funny, but maybe it was just the accent. She’d heard lots of people in the neighborhood whose first language wasn’t English, and he reminded her of them.

“Can we come back tomorrow?” 

“Sure, Helena. Whatever you want.”

She heard the leaves underneath them as they walked away, and she stuck her head out further, tried to watch them for as long as she could. Blackbird must have been thinking the same thing because she looked behind her, caught her eye and smiled. She stuck her pinkie out, and Dinah did the same, before she turned forward and walked out of the woods.

It wasn’t until they were gone that Dinah realized what had happened. What she’d heard. What she now knew.

—

Helena. She spent all Friday morning practicing the sound of her name. She liked how it felt, found herself whispering it while she waited in Paradise, the word getting stuck in her head like the lyrics to her favorite songs. Helena, Helena, Helena. 

Dinah thought about what would happen when she told her she knew. Blackbird—Helena would definitely freak out, but she’d begun figuring out the secrets to calming her down. And maybe, once she had time to think about it, she’d realize that it was okay for Dinah to know the rest. And once she knew everything, well...waiting all summer seemed pointless. If they were going to be writing each other letters, they might as well send them.

She rehearsed every word, imagined every possible scenario and prepared for it, but Blackbird never came. The hours slipped away slowly, painfully. As Dinah walked home, the setting sun her cue to leave, she began to worry. Sal had said they could come back. She’d pinkie promised. And Dinah knew people lied, knew they said one thing and meant another, knew they were cruel and broke promises all the time, but not Blackbird. Not them.

—

She spent most of the next few days trying to convince herself that Helena was okay. Her imagination loved to run wild, and the few stories she’d told about her family only gave them more fuel. Maybe her parents decided she needed to go last minute back-to-school shopping, or maybe they decided she needed to be locked up forever, like a Princess stuck in a tower. Maybe they went to visit her aunts and uncles, or maybe they’d shipped her off across the country, or maybe they’d sent her over the ocean on a boat so far no one would ever find her again. Dinah came up with hundreds of potential explanations, each one burying the thought that maybe she hadn’t come on purpose. Maybe she’d finally figured out what everyone at school already knew: Dinah Lance was not someone you wanted to be friends with.

As she walked on the bus Monday morning, she tried to keep her head down. Most people didn’t look at her much anyway, not after last year, which made ignoring them a lot easier. The only exceptions were the boys from the street over, who always sat near her and never shut up about anything. 

This morning was no different. As she sat down, she heard them bickering, risked a glance up and saw them crowding over a page from a newspaper. Curiosity trapped her, left her looking for too long, and before she could stop it, she caught another pair of eyes.

“You see the news, Dinah?” 

“What news?”

He tried to hold the paper out to her, but another arm pulled him back. “Dude, are you crazy? She can’t see this.”

Her pride betrayed her, made her narrow her eyes and ask, “And why can’t I?”

She watched the way he began to squirm. Like he hadn’t expected her to fight back. “It’s just— I don’t want it to upset you.”

“Why would it upset me?”

“You know the Bertinelli’s?”

Dinah raised an eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“The Bertinelli’s. One of the biggest crime families in Gotham. Don’t you pay attention?”

His friend smacked him on the arm, which almost made her laugh. “I guess not.”

“Well, someone went after them last weekend.”

Dinah waited for him to say more. “And this would upset me because…?”

He looked away, and suddenly she wondered if she should be nervous, if she should have kept her mouth shut and left it well enough alone. “Whoever it was, they took the whole family out. Burned the mansion down, too. But they, um. They also sent out photos to the press. Of the bodies. And I know that your dad—“

“Shut up and let me see that,” she said, grabbing the paper out of his hand before he could pity her any longer. She knew what everyone thought, but blood and gore didn’t scare her. It wasn’t anything new. She looked down, stared at the people lying in black and white on the floor, prepared herself to prove him wrong when—

Those shoes. She knew those shoes. They were too fancy for the beach, always worn with long white socks and polished no matter what happened to them, except now they were covered in spots, the same spots that everybody was lying in. Blood, her mind whispered, that’s blood, but she hardly heard it, because next to her was a boy, small and sinking in a puddle of grey, and she didn’t know him, not really, but she knew he was funny and sweet and that Blackbird had promised to give everything up to protect him. 

She didn’t want to see it anymore, but her eyes wouldn’t let them go. Her body was covered, a woman lying practically on top of her, but creeping underneath she could see Blackbird’s hair was still down. She never wore her hair down. Dinah had promised she’d rebraid it but they’d run out of time, and now she was laying there with long hair and bloody socks and—

“Why.” 

“Why what?”

“Why did they do it?”

“I’m not sure.” She heard his voice soften, and part of her hated the pity that crept in but most of her couldn’t find the room to care about what they thought of her. Not anymore. “Money, probably. Everyone’s always killing people for money.”

She heard the other kids stand up, heard them walk toward the front of the bus. She tried to follow but she couldn’t move, not when she couldn’t stop staring at her. She saw his hand reach for the paper, let him pull it away. 

“I’m really sorry we showed you. It’s probably hard, with your dad and all, to see other people...well. You know.”

She forced herself to look up, to look away, to nod and blame her dead father and keep the most important promise she’d ever made, even when she wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. Blackbird—Helena, Helena Bertinelli had warned her that it would be dangerous if anyone knew they were friends. And Dinah had questioned her, had mocked her, but she’d been right all along. So nobody would know. Ever.

She didn’t remember anything about school that day. She stared at the board but all she saw was lines of shoes, all speckled and soaking and too still, even for a picture. She kept her mouth shut even when it hurt, even when all she wanted to do was cry and scream and yell at the sky. The boys on the bus home left her alone, and if she’d had room for any sort of feeling she’d be grateful, but feelings threatened to break the carefully built wall she’d constructed in the time it took her to get to her classroom that morning, so she gave them nothing. 

When she got off the bus, she walked past her house, past the water and the sand, through the trees, until she found the stub that meant she was almost there. Part of her wished she’d walk through the leaves and find her waiting, on the swing or sitting on the ground, but Paradise was empty. It was gone. And it was never coming back.

The dam broke. Dinah felt it snap, heard the echo from deep inside her, let it come out with no restraint. She opened her mouth and screamed, until the trees shook, until her vision went blurry, until she didn’t feel like a person at all. She swore she could see it, the power, the sound itself, but she didn’t care. It hadn’t been enough. Whatever it was that lived inside her, she knew it couldn’t be magic, because magic wasn’t supposed to be cruel. Magic wasn’t supposed to leave you when you needed it most. Magic was supposed to be strong enough to save her. 

When she woke up, her head was in her Mom’s lap. She could see the swing in front of her, the ropes frayed and barely hanging on, and she knew it was her fault. She’d destroyed Paradise. And nothing her Mom said could ever make it better.

—

Her training started pretty soon after that. Her heart wasn’t in it, but Mom was so worried, told her she had to know how to control it, so she went through the motions, learned about breath control and aim and how to turn it on and off. Using the cry left a bitter taste in her mouth, but every minute she spent focusing on training was a moment she didn’t have to think about mansions filled with smoke and bodies drowning in blood. And Mom looked so happy whenever she hit a milestone. One of them deserved that, she decided.

School never got better, but if Dinah was being honest, she knew she was the one who stopped trying. Her own worst enemy, as always. Mom worried, had asked about friends more than a few times, but her grades were always good, and eventually she learned to lie well enough to keep her questions at bay. Eventually, the lies began to feel a little like the truth. 

—

She thought about her more than she meant to. It was always in the little moments. The mini victories, the accomplishments she had no one to share with. As she got older, she tried to imagine what they’d be doing if things had gone different that day. What would Helena think about the girls at school, who glared and laughed at her behind her back and wore more makeup than twelve-year-olds ever needed? What would she think when Dinah showed her how much better she’d gotten on guitar? Would she have figured out her favorite color by now?

She tried to write a letter, once. The way they’d planned. Every word felt fake, pointless when she’d never get a chance to read them. She tried to finish, because she’d made a promise, and she didn’t break her promises, but Helena had. Every time she closed her eyes, Dinah saw her turning around, smiling, pinkie held out toward her. Maybe if she’d run after her, if she’d made it official, Helena would have kept it. She would have come back.

Dinah crumpled up the paper, threw it away, and didn’t try again. 

—

Years went by. Life got busier. Dinah joined the choir, found people to talk to at lunch and in between classes, but she knew better than to let it go any further. Acquaintances were safe. They didn’t ask questions or have any expectations. They wouldn’t hurt to lose.

Mom went to work, came back later and later, always seemed frustrated at the world. When Dinah was fifteen, she introduced her to friends who wore outfits like the ones she’d imagined as a kid and had all sorts of powers and abilities that shouldn’t be possible. She told her that she was fighting with them, that she needed to do more. They’d talked about it when she was little, talked about doing it together one day, but Mom couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t sit by while people suffered. Not when she had the power to change it. But no matter how much she wanted to go, she still asked for permission. For her permission. She wouldn’t do it, if Dinah didn’t want her to.

Dinah let her go. She watched as she went out, night after night. Mom told her that once she turned eighteen she could come out with them, and Dinah wondered what she’d do when the day came. Once upon a time, it had been all she’d ever wanted, but that dream had died a long time ago. And yet, every night, every victory she watched them celebrate, gave it a little more life, made her think about colors and outfits and cartoons and doing good. She liked the idea of doing good.

—

Twelve days before she turned eighteen, Mom went out by herself. Dinah begged her not to. She wasn’t strong enough, not alone. She told her the police wouldn’t come, wouldn’t help her if she was the only one. She told her that life was unfair and people would always be hurt and she couldn’t save everyone, and risking her life when it wouldn’t help anything was reckless and dangerous and stupid.

Mom wouldn’t listen. She suited up, tried and failed to hide the pain in each movement. Dinah could see the leftover bruises and scars from the never ending battles that came before, decorating her body like a scrapbook dedicated to pain and suffering. Each one served as a reminder of what was waiting for her on the other side of that door. Each one could have been the end.

She tried to stop her; Mom ignored her. She begged to go with her; Mom refused. She threatened to go anyway; Mom gave her a look she’d never seen before, made her promise she wouldn’t follow. She swore she wouldn’t, even when the words felt like a betrayal. 

Dinah watched her leave. Ninety minutes passed before she decided she didn’t want to be the person who kept her promises anymore. She ran, faster than she ever had before, ran until she heard sirens, blue and red lights illuminating a scene darker than all of her nightmares combined. 

The first thing she saw was the puddle. With each flash it changed shades, but she’d never needed color to recognize blood. The black of her uniform wasn’t dark enough to hide it, and she was still, too still, and nobody was doing anything. They walked around her, ignored her, left her out in the open for anyone to see. Dinah wanted to run to her, wanted to grab her and take her away, but the news vans began driving up, and even then, some promises were too strong to break. 

She didn’t know where she was going when she turned and ran, but she wasn’t surprised when she walked through the leaves and into what used to be Paradise. The swing wasn’t hanging anymore but it was still there, lying on the ground, dirty and hidden and forgotten. She hadn’t come back, not since the day she’d found out, when she’d woken up in her mother’s arms and cried until she couldn’t breathe. She’d held her, carried her home, and Dinah knew she’d believed the same thing the boys on the bus had, but she let her, sat on her lap and pretended her grief was old and resurfacing and nothing more.

Her knees hit the ground, the first thing she remembered feeling since she ran out the door. She wanted nothing more than to scream, but Dinah knew her own strength now, knew the damage she’d cause, so she bit her tongue until it bled and suffocated any noise that threatened to escape. She stayed there until the sun began to rise, until she knew for sure that no one was coming to get her. 

—

By the time she met Cass, she’d grown used to the silence. She’d spent years drowning the memories in anything that would bury them, from whiskey to cigarettes to men and women who didn’t mind being used. In her low moments, when the thoughts snuck in, a voice questioning what they would think of her if they saw her now, she reminded herself that bad things happened all the time. Trying to prevent them was nothing more than wasted effort. She should have learned that lesson years ago, or at the very least last week, when she went back for Quinn only to get left with an ungrateful drunk clown and more attention from Sionis than she’d ever wanted.

There was something about the kid, though, that she couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was the way she reminded her of herself at that age, a little angry and a little stuck, or maybe it was her Mom’s lingering hold on her, but when she watched her get driven away, diamond in tow, she knew she couldn’t leave it alone. Bad things happened to innocent people, but Cass didn’t deserve to suffer under the hand of Roman Sionis. Fuck self-preservation — she’d put up with whatever trouble came her way to make sure Cass didn’t become another name on a list that was already too long for Dinah’s liking.

Which was how she found herself in this god-forsaken circus, with Montoya and Harley fucking Quinn and some wanna-be vigilante with a crossbow. It was exactly the kind of situation she’d spent years trying to avoid, but Cass was waving a gun around, and she knew how they’d found her, knew who’d sold her out. When she grabbed it from her, when she aimed it toward Quinn, she wasn’t thinking about anything other than keeping her safe. She kept one eye on Harley and the other on Cass, half listening to whatever nonsense the others were rambling about, and that was enough until—

“Helena Bertinelli.”

She’d never been shot, but Dinah imagined it felt something like this. Sharp pain in her chest, sucking the air and life out of her, the world suddenly moving in slow motion while her heart raced faster than it should ever be able to. She turned, looked at the now unhooded assassin and saw both a stranger and a memory. The look in her eyes was unrecognizable, foreign in every sense of the word, but the rest of her face — she’d spent enough years dreaming about that face to know it, even after all this time. 

Dinah heard her detailing the men who’d killed her family, the men she’d hunted to return the favor. She couldn’t stop staring, looking in her eyes, searching for the girl she’d known. She watched the way they shifted when she declared she was done, resolve turning into panic, and the emotions may have been new but nobody else had ever told so much with just their eyes. It was that, more than the name, more than the explanation, that made her believe it. Blackbird, standing in front of her. Alive. Real. 

Cass’s voice took all of their attention away before Dinah could figure out what to do, what to say. They moved toward the window, saw the army waiting for them. Dinah wondered who she’d pissed off to curse her with a fate as cruel as this one, to give her the gift of a lifetime only to promise certain death before she could ask if she remembered the little girl with the swing and the guitar. 

Harley reminded them they didn’t have time for wallowing. She gave a speech Dinah knew they all needed to hear, Cass most of all, and then they were digging through a weapons chest, arming themselves with whatever they could find, wondering if it could possibly be enough.

For a moment everything was calm. Dinah looked over, saw Helena smearing black shit over her eyes. She wondered if this was it, the only chance they’d get, and her feet were moving before her mind had figured out what to say. Helena hardly paid her any attention, which might have made it easier, had her brain not chosen that moment to let genuine, irrelevant curiosity take over. “Hey, what’s up with this bow-and-arrow shtick?” 

“It’s not a fucking bow-and-arrow, it’s a crossbow, I’m not twelve.” 

The laugh came out before she could stop it. She’d only seen anger on her face once before, and to get it now, over something as simple as a name, was the cherry on top of the absolutely ridiculous scenario that life had thrown her into. The girl who’d refused to tell her who she was, who spent all summer using codenames chosen at random, now couldn’t stand her weapon being referred to as something she considered childlike. The girl who’d run away the first time Dinah raised her voice, who’d been shy and meek and scared, now snapped at a stranger as they prepared to storm into battle armed with baseball bats and roller skates. Nothing about this was funny, but its insanity was utterly and completely comical. So she laughed, until she looked up and caught her eyes for the first time.

It’s me, she wanted to say. I waited for you. I mourned you. I sang for you. Do you see me? She wanted to tell her, wanted to ask straight out. Time and cigarettes had left her voice sounding nothing like the one she would have known, and everything about herself felt different, but she wanted to ask anyway. More than that, she wanted her to say yes. She wanted her to remember. No matter what else came with it. 

At the last second, she bit her tongue. They were about to walk into what would probably be the fight of their lives, one that she honestly doubted they’d walk out of. The last thing she wanted was to become a distraction. To be the reason she lost her a second time. So she said nothing, waited until Harley came up to them and asked if they were ready, prepared herself to leave it at that. But as they walked by one another, the thought running through her mind slipped out without her permission. “You can yell all you want,” she whispered, her words an echo of a conversation she’d almost forgotten, “I’m not a coward. Nothing about you could ever scare me.”

Two seconds later, men crashed through the ceiling, and nothing else mattered but survival. She went down the slide, because of course there was a fucking slide. Helena took just long enough for worry to creep in, but before Dinah could climb right back up, they heard her yelling; an instant later, she slid down, kneeling on top of the man she was burying her knife into

She knew it should have disturbed her. If she was normal, it probably would have freaked her out, sent her running in the opposite direction, but all she could think about was how far they’d come from the kids who delicately wielded a pocket knife to carve letters into a piece of wood. Dinah watched her and felt impressed, proud at the girl who’d learned to stand up for herself. And the tiniest part of her felt grateful that maybe they were both broken in the same ways, the cartoon morals they’d once held onto similarly crafted and shaped into whatever it was they were acting on now. And damn if taking down a man in a carnival slide wasn’t cool. 

—

It should have been over when they walked out of the tunnel. 

The fight itself had been mostly a blur, panic and instinct taking over and not letting go until the last man went down. She didn’t know what she’d done, what the others had done, but she knew that they were all standing at the end of it. She wasn’t sure anything else mattered.

Dinah remembered staring at Helena as they made their way out of the building. There was so much she hadn’t noticed earlier. Like the purple in her top, deep and dark and almost blending in with the black around it. And how she still stood taller than her, all these years later. And the braid in her hair, small and only on one side. The tunnel was dim, the early morning sky still dark, and all she wanted to do was see Helena in the daylight. She wanted to know every part of her, exactly the way it was. 

The gunshots shattered her daydream. She watched Montoya go down, pulled her back as far as she could. She wanted to stay but Helena was alone up there, so she ran, grabbed the discarded gun on the floor and shot blindly into the ambush they’d walked right into. She watched Cass get dragged away, and the familiarity of it all threatened to leave her frozen in place. Another person, gone. Another loss she’d have to shelve among the rest. Someone else she was too helpless to save. 

Except there was Blackbird. Standing by her side, shooting into the crowd. Fighting for a kid she didn’t even know. Fighting for herself. Alive, after all this time. 

If it had been quieter, she may have heard the voice in her head yelling at her for letting her guard down. If it had been quieter, she may have recognized it. But noise this loud could only be silenced if it was overwhelmed, and she had been powerless for long enough. She’d made a promise, once, to use her powers to protect the people she loved. To protect Blackbird. And Dinah Lance didn’t break her promises.

She was already going through the motions when she heard it, words that could have come from any of them. “Canary, you know what you have to do.” Two quick breaths in. A third, deeper, slower, reaching down into her gut, until she could feel the power pulsing inside her, anxious for release after years of lying in wait. She let it build, remembered throwing out a last minute warning before running forward, out into the line of fire.

Intentionality. It had been her first lesson, the thing Mom said she’d always need if she wanted to use her powers. You have to mean it, she’d told her. You have to have something substantial behind it. A reason for using your power. It’s not a party trick — you have to feel something. She wasn’t sure she’d truly understood it until now. When Dinah opened her mouth, when she dug deep, it wasn’t just her power she found; it was pain. Years of it, piled on top of one another, buried underneath walls so thick she wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to break them. She could feel the way her power intertwined with them, could feel it suffocating underneath the weight of everything she’d tried to ignore, all the suffering and guilt she’d tried to hide. It would hurt, letting it out. It would leave broken pieces behind that might never get put back together, but when she stood in front of Roman’s army, when she thought about Cass and Helena and Montoya and even Harley, she knew somehow that if she shattered, if she screamed until there was nothing left, someone would come to pick up the pieces. They wouldn’t let her break completely. They wouldn’t leave her alone. And she’d always known that any amount of pain would be worth saving the people she loved.

She took one last breath, and let it all out.

—

Dinah woke up to Montoya standing over her. She could see her mouth moving, but whatever she said wasn’t louder than the ringing in her ears. Or the pounding in her head. She’d seen Mom go through this all the time, but Dinah was out of practice. The last time she’d truly used her powers like this had been years ago, when Helena—

Helena. She tried to look around, but the entire world still felt like it was vibrating. Dinah squeezed her eyes shut, willed the feeling to pass. They didn’t have time for this. Helena needed her. Cass needed her. 

When she opened her eyes again, Montoya was still talking, eyes frantic and hair slightly disheveled but overall alright. “—your car,” Dinah finally heard her say. “Canary, where’s your car?”

Dinah reached up and pointed in the general direction she’d parked, not trusting her voice just yet. Montoya nodded, reached down and helped her up. “Bertinelli already went after Quinn,” she said, “but they’ll need help. We gotta go.”

As they stumbled over to her surprisingly unscathed car, as her head cleared and her vision steadied, Dinah thought about what Montoya had said. Helena’s last name, thrown out so casually. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like it wasn’t the secret she’d kept for years. Like it hadn’t been the reason for one of the worst days of her life. She said it like it was just a word, nothing more, and Dinah wondered if maybe she was right. If they’d given it more power than it had ever deserved. If everyone had.

“I’m driving,” Montoya told her, and Dinah bit back a protest, tossed her the keys and hopped in the passenger's seat. They found Helena along the way, a little battered and bruised but still standing, followed her on her bike all the way to the pier. As they ran toward the sounds of gunfire, past statues that stood in the shadows and floorboards that snapped underneath their feet, all she could think about was Cass. The universe couldn’t take from her when it had just given back. Not when she’d fought for it this time. Not when she’d finally done everything right.

Finding her and Harley, standing together, staring into the water that was too red even for Gotham’s standards, Dinah wondered if this was destiny. If everything before this had been lessons disguised as punishment, showing her what she had to do. Teaching her how to fight for what she wanted, for who she loved. Teaching her how to survive. And if maybe, now that it was over, she would finally get a chance to do something more. To live. She had no idea what that looked like, but for the first time in her life, she was excited to find out.

—

They didn’t talk in the restaurant. Not at first. Dinah couldn’t stop looking at her, as if she might disappear if she let her out of her sight, as if all of this might have only been some figment of her imagination. It felt fragile, somehow. Like one wrong move, one wrong word, could bring the whole fantasy crumbling around her. So she kept her thoughts to herself, tried not to think too hard about the fact that Helena seemed to let her eyes roam anywhere else, so long as they never landed on her own. 

The worry didn’t creep in until Harley stole her car. Helena laughed, the way she used to before, and suddenly she was nine years old again, sitting in the dirt by the beach, hidden behind the leaves and trees. That sound echoed throughout her happiest memories. She’d spent years calling on it, closing her eyes and going back when life became too much to handle. But what if she was the only one? What if her memory failed her, told her a story glossed over with time, one that looked much better than the truth? What if everything she thought she knew was wrong? Helena might not remember her at all. Or worse, she might not care. Dinah might be nothing more than a blip, a spot on a timeline that meant nothing in comparison to what came after it.

When Montoya stood up, when she handed Helena a business card and told them both to call her tomorrow, her heart started racing. It was just the two of them, the way it had always been, but they weren’t in Paradise anymore, and Dinah couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this was the moment where everything changed. She’d spent years imagining something exactly like this, crazy and impossible scenarios where the people she loved came back to her, but imagining always let her control what happened. Now it was real life, and nothing was scarier than the fact that she had no idea what might come next. 

“So,” Dinah assumed she’d be the one to break the silence, but she wasn’t brave enough to come right out and ask. “I guess—“

“They called you Canary,” Helena said, her eyes in her lap and her hands fiddling with that toy car Cass had given her. “And your voice is magic.”

A million feelings hit her all at once. Relief, ecstasy, shock, awe. Fear, with its lingering grip, still refusing to let go. Comfort, fighting for a place at the table, made stronger when Dinah thought about what she’d said. Canary. It had always sounded right when it came from her. Like it was her own title, her own name, not one passed down by someone she’d never be able to live up to. It reminded her of how she’d felt that summer — like someone could finally see her, just her, just Dinah, and still like what they saw.

She nodded, before realizing Helena wasn’t looking at her. “That’s true.”

“I knew a girl who had magic,” Helena whispered. “I called her Canary, too.”

The very words she’d feared came so quickly she felt embarrassed at her own doubt. She should have known — everything had always been easier with her. “And I knew a girl who hated chess and didn’t know her favorite color. But I never called her Huntress.”

Helena looked up, the same awe and genuity in her eyes that Dinah found so incredibly familiar. “You know who I am?”

“There’s not enough makeup in the world that could hide you from me,” she said, and she felt herself smiling, tried to think of a time when she felt this happy and came up blank. “Hi, Blackbird.”

Had she not spent all morning staring at her eyes, desperately trying to catch her gaze, she may have missed it; instead, she saw the way tears threatened to make an appearance at the sound of her old nickname, just for a moment, before she blinked them back. Her face was a mosaic, and Dinah knew she could look at her for hours, searching for each individual emotion, memorizing every inch of what she thought she would never see again. 

Helena stared at her, mouth open, and Dinah could see the wheels turning, searching for the right thing to say, before she sighed and settled for, “Hi, Canary.”

“It’s been a while, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Helena shook her head. “I don’t understand. I never told you my name.”

“I heard your driver call you Helena on that last day. When you didn’t show, when I saw what happened in the news, it wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.” 

“They mentioned me in the news?”

Dinah thought about the bus ride, the black and white photo and the bloody socks. The boy in the puddle, the one who didn’t crawl out of an execution. The boy Helena had vowed to protect. “I saw a family photo,” she said, omitting details to still hold onto the truth. “Recognized you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

Helena didn’t say anything at first. Part of her wondered if she’d pushed too far, ruined everything already, and Dinah was seconds from handing out another apology when Helena finally spoke. “Do you remember the time I asked you about your dad? And what it was like to lose people?”

“Yeah.” The conversation came back in flashes. “You said you wanted to know what it was like. That you didn’t think you’d be good at it.”

She shrugged. “I was right.”

“Well, you can join the club, then.” The confused look on her face was so familiar, Dinah almost didn’t want to elaborate. “You think I handled losing you well? I almost destroyed Paradise. And after Mom?” She motioned around her. “I won’t bore you with the details, but this was probably the first good thing I’ve done since then.”

“You lost your Mom?” She sounded so sad, as if she’d known her. Dinah supposed in a way, maybe she had.

“Yeah. Years ago. She was doing this. The hero bullshit. The same kind of thing we talked about doing one day. Do you remember?”

“I remember everything.”

She didn’t know how to respond, how to tell her that their summer together had been the happiest time of her life, sandwiched in between the worst. That memories of them in Paradise, doing nothing but spending time together, had taunted her when she slept, reminding her of a time she could never go back to. That seeing her here, now, in the flesh, was everything she’d ever wanted, a dream somehow turned into reality. Remembering was an understatement. 

“Yeah,” she finally told her. “So do I.”

“I’m sorry,” Helena said. “For leaving. For not coming back.”

“Not like you had a choice.”

“But I promised.”

She blinked away the image of Helena looking back at her, pinkie held out, smile on her face. Minutes from a massacre. “Yeah. And I promised I’d keep you safe. So I guess we both dropped the ball.”

“You couldn’t have protected me. No one could.”

“I could have tried.”

Helena just looked at her. “We were kids. You were hardly tall enough to get on that swing. You really think you could have stood up to some of the most ruthless people in Gotham?”

Dinah shrugged. “You never know. Looks can be very deceiving. What I lacked in height, I made up for in confidence and pent-up aggression back then.” She thought she was joking, but the more she spoke, the more it felt like a confession. “If I had just learned how to use my powers a little faster, maybe I could have taken them. I could have saved you.”

“Or you could have died.” 

Dinah just shrugged. “Guess we’ll never know.”

They sat there for a minute, the silence comfortable and familiar, the way it used to be, until Helena said, “It really was impressive. Your voice. I always wondered what it would be like.”

“Oh, sure,” Dinah said with a smile. “It was real impressive the way I passed out in front of everyone. So graceful. So strong.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” Helena told her, and she was so serious, so genuine, that for a moment Dinah began to believe her. It was fascinating how quickly one sentence could challenge years of self-deprecation, of guilt and frustration and anger. Could make her question her own self-image. Could make her feel beautiful, if only for now.

“Yeah, well, you always saw me as better than I am. I guess some things never change.”

“Some things do.” She felt the shift, could hear it in her voice. Dinah didn’t want to think about the in-between, the time they spent apart. The tragedy of their own lives. It was easier to ignore it, to joke and deflect and laugh it all into oblivion.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “You definitely know how to use a knife now.”

She smiled, just barely, and Dinah took it as a win.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “We aren’t kids anymore. Everything is different.”

“Not everything,” Dinah said instinctively. “Not us.”

She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Helena winced, as if the words were a slap across the face, as if she could feel them. As if they hurt her. As if Dinah hurt her. Her grip on that car tightened, and her eyes drifted away, looking for anything else. Anything but her. 

“I shouldn’t — I’ve gotta-“ she turned, stood up and walked out of the restaurant. Dinah swore to herself, threw some money on the table and ran after her. 

“Hey! Wait!” She kept going, kept her head down, but Dinah had let her walk away once before. She wasn’t letting it happen again. 

She caught her right as they turned into the alley where Helena’s bike was parked, hidden in the shadows of the buildings next to them. Dinah jogged an extra step, put her hand on her shoulder. “Blackbird, please—“

“I’m not her anymore.” She snapped, turned so quickly that for an instant they were face to face, inches of air keeping them from touching. They stood like that, neither of them moving, until Helena blinked, swallowed and stepped backward. “The girl you knew,” she added. “Blackbird. She died that day. She’s gone. I can’t get her back.”

Dinah knew she’d never find the right words, but she searched for them anyway. She wanted to lie, to tell her that everything would be okay. That they’d reached the easy part now, that all the suffering was over, that she was wrong and they could close their eyes and be the kids they used to be. But she’d promised to never lie to her. And Dinah Lance didn’t break her promises. 

“That makes two of us,” she settled for, before sticking her hand out into the new space between them. 

Helena just stared at it. “What are you doing?”

“Making an introduction. My name is Dinah Lance. Some people call me Canary. My voice is magic, my mother was a superhero, and my best friend in the world died when I was nine. If I’m being honest, I’m pretty sure I died with her.”

Helena didn’t move. She didn’t speak. But when she looked up, when their eyes met, Dinah didn’t see the hardened assassin or the little girl from the beach. She saw someone entirely different. Someone she desperately wanted to know.

Slowly, Helena took her hand. “My name is Helena,” she said. “Helena Bertinelli. Some people call me Huntress. My best friend used to call me Blackbird.” She hesitated, before adding, “And my favorite color is purple.”

Dinah smiled, watched as Helena’s face began to mirror her own. “Purple’s a good choice. It’s nice to meet you, Helena.” Saying her name, the one she’d practiced, the one she’d held onto for years in secret, came with the same level of anticipation as it had before. Like anything was possible now that she had it. 

Helena didn’t pull away, so neither did Dinah. They stood there, hand in hand. She could feel the callouses, the scars and rough edges that decorated her palm. It was a map, a timeline of everything she’d done, everywhere she’d been, and Dinah wanted nothing more than to know all of her stories. 

“I don’t know what happens next,” Helena said softly. 

“I think that’s up to us.”

“We could take up Renee’s offer. Wear the outfits, be the heroes.”

Dinah let go, only to hold her pinkie up in front of her. “I’m in if you are. We’re a team, remember?”

Helena smiled, reached for her, and suddenly there they were, miles from Paradise and years from childhood, pinkies wrapped around one another. “It might be fun. Doing something good. Helping other people.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“Plus, I don’t—um,” she dropped her pinkie, only to fiddle with the hair tie around her wrist. “I don’t really have anything else to do anymore. I’ve crossed every name off my list.”

Dinah had a million questions she wanted to ask about that, but it was early, and she was tired, and it dawned on her that they didn’t have to do everything today. She finally had the one thing she’d wanted more than anything else — time. 

“Yeah,” she said instead, “I’m pretty sure I’m out of a job now, so I’ve got some free time.” Helena looked confused, so she added, “I sang at Sionis’s club. But I don’t really see them staying in business much longer.”

“You were a singer?” Dinah didn’t know how she managed to sound both happy and sad when she asked, like she couldn’t decide how she felt about it. Like her own feelings were a contradiction. 

“Yeah. Most people didn’t really listen, though.”

Helena scoffed. “Then they’re stupid, or tasteless. Nobody sings like you do.”

She felt her entire body go warm, the same way she had all those years ago, when she’d brought the guitar into Paradise. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really care what they thought, anyway.”

“You didn’t?”

Dinah shook her head. “They weren’t you.”

“Oh.” She watched Helena look down, at her hands, at the ground, at anything else, but she couldn’t hide the smile, or the red on her cheeks. Watching her, all Dinah wanted to do was dig through her stuff, tune up her old guitar, and sing again. Not on a stage, not for a crowd, and not even for a paycheck. Just for her.

Helena looked back at her bike. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”

“Then don’t. Walk with me. It’s beautiful out.”

Dinah held out her hand. Helena stared at it for just a moment, before she took it, followed her out of the shade and back into the sunlight. Dinah finally got a chance to see her, to take everything in without any distractions. She saw her eyes, exactly as she remembered, dark and deep enough to drown in. She noticed the way her skin was littered with scars, new and old, small and dangerously large. But mostly, she noticed how even with her make-up almost entirely rubbed off and blood still decorating her body, Helena was still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

“Can I ask you something?” Helena said as they walked down the street. 

“Anything.”

“Is it still standing? Paradise?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I haven’t been back in years. But I have the swing. It fell off the ropes a while back, but the base is still good.”

Helena shrugged. “Maybe we can rebuild it.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but the best part of Paradise was never the swing, or the beach. It was being with you.”

Helena stopped walking. “Then I guess we're already there.”

“Yeah,” Dinah said, looking up at the girl next to her. The one who left. The one who came back. “I guess we are.”

[mxsinistir]

May I request a Good Omens Gabriel x Human! Reader please?

Pairing: Gabriel x [y/n]

Warnings: n/a besides the fact that the bad writing ™ becomes worse writing ™ towards the end bc it’s 2 am while I’m writing this. 

Summary: Freelance London Photographer [y/n] is friends with the bookshop owner Aziraphale, and happens to be sitting in one day when a mysterious stranger enters to have a meeting with her friend. Suspicious, this artist is ready to find out as much as she can about the man. 

Word Count: 2390

(tried to keep this gender-neutral but tell me if I screwed this up anywhere bc I probably did)

Hope you enjoy!

***

The first time you met him was whenever you were inside A.Z. Fell & Co., discussing a book you’d just read and returned (since you were aware he despised the permanent purchasing of his collection) over two cups of hot chocolate.

The moment he entered, you were intrigued. You turned your head to watch him saunter in, and some part of you screamed deafeningly that whatever he was, he did not belong here. That was saying something since unusual people were not uncommon in the little London bookshop. You’d known Aziraphale’s eccentric friend Crowley for quite some time now. 

“Aziraphale,” His voice was hearty, one you should have taken comfort in hearing. But in addition to his picture-perfect, incredibly fake smile, it set your nerves on end. “May I have a word?” Part of you decided this was your chance to run from the off-setting visitor, but that would leave your friend alone with him.

“Hi, I’m [Y/n],” You shoved a hand into space between you, “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He looked you up and down, your eyes unwavering until he met your stare. His eyes - your stomach flipped, oh god his eyes - bore into yours, and you nearly recoiled when you noticed the color. A glassy purple with no signs of contacts. Just unexplainably rich violet that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. 

“Gabriel,” He said, shaking your hand with a grip that was just a little too strong. You were too proud to coddle your sore hand, though. “I need a moment with Aziraphale.”

“Sorry, can’t,” You couldn’t leave Aziraphale with him! What if something happened? You’d picked up that Aziraphale had been involved with some sketchy people before, and what if this guy happened to be a well-dressed gang member? Well . . . well dressed wasn’t exactly the way to put it. You didn’t know what look Gabriel was going for, but it just added to his overall wrongness. 

Besides, Aziraphale and Crowley had always remarked on your excellent intuition. Warning Aziraphale about bad customers, giving Crowley advice on problems he hadn’t explicitly explained, knowing that both your friends were thinking at a given time - and at this time, Aziraphale felt very, very anxious about Gabriel waltzing into his shop.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” He half-snarled, his fake smile faltering. 

“My bike got stolen earlier,” You explained, casually turning to drink the rest of your cocoa before it went cold. You also needed something to hide your growing smile. “I told the police to drop it off here when they found it.”“Are you sure you didn’t miss them during your chat?” He said, “I swore I saw a bike parked in the front.” You stepped past him, putting your nose against Aziraphale’s window. Sure enough, a blue bike was leaned against the glass pane. 

“Well, silly me - Guess they just left it and had better things to do.” You laughed, turning back to smile at Aziraphale and Gabriel. “See you later, Zira!”

You walked outside, planning on walking home. You weren’t going to take some random bike from in front of the bookshop just because some guy had snapped and made it appear for you.

You didn’t own a bike. 

***

The next morning, before you even had the chance to ask questions about the purple-eyed man, Crowley had come into your studio, mentioning that he was bored, due to Aziraphale’s sudden occupation with work. Aziraphale had never been truly busy since you’d known him. 

“Crowley, do you know a Gabriel?” You asked, not looking up from the photo you were currently editing the lighting of, trying to decide if you could amend the conflict between the clashing color palettes. If anything, Crowley just hoped that you were too occupied with your work to even notice that you opened your mouth to ask the question. A few seconds ticked by, and then you stared up at the redhead. 

“Yeah, I know him.” He said under his breath, “He’s a friend of Aziraphale’s. Definitely not a friend fo mine. I’d keep your distance.” 

“What does he do?” Even without being able to see his eyes through the glasses, you sensed the panic in them as he proceeded to mumble out an answer. 

“Paperwork,” He steadied himself, easing into the lie now. “Some company Aziraphale used to work for. I think he’s kind of a jerk, but he and Zira go way back, so I don’t intrude.” 

“Funny, I thought the bookshop had been family owned for a hundred years?” 

“Part-time job, maybe?” Crowley stammered out. You just rolled your eyes.

“Is Aziraphale in . . . is he in any danger with this guy?”“What? No, no, [Y/n], you’re just being paranoid.” You weren’t so sure. You’d never heard Crowley so nervous about the subject of someone, and you’d certainly never heard of him willing staying out of Aziraphale’s affairs. It was common knowledge that he was the nosiest man in London, especially when it came to his friends. “Seriously, Just stay out of his way and it should be fine.” He had a certain voice he used when he wanted you to believe things were fine, even if they weren’t.

“I’ll just ask Aziraphale since apparently, you won’t explain.” That little taunt was usually enough to make Crowley spill everything. Not for this, apparently. “He listens to you, Crowley. Just make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” 

Just because he didn’t say the promise doesn’t mean she didn’t see him make it.

***

The second time you saw Gabriel wasn’t at the bookshop, but on a bench in St. James’ Park. You were currently looking over some pictures you’d taken of the vibrant area, the photographs dotted with jogging passersby and fluffy ducks that reminded you of Aziraphale. You stood up to walk by, snapping a few more when your camera focused in on a not-quite-familiar face.

“Gabriel,” You said, curiously approaching the benched man. “Fancy seeing you here,”

“[Y/n], is it? Aziraphale’s . . . acquaintance.” Who the hell used the word acquaintance anymore? You thought. “Is there something you need?”

“Just came to clear my eyes - I’ve been staring at this one picture I took for Aziraphale last week.” You briefly explained how one of the customers had split their coffee on one of Aziraphale’s old wall paintings, which he had sat on the table to clean the walls behind it. He had been furious, and though you knew you couldn’t possibly replace the expertly preserved painting - ruined by only human clumsiness - you’d offered to gift a photograph to him. Though he was obviously still disgruntled over the lost air, he did say that even something modern would eventually become history. You’d gotten to work. “I’m supposed to bring it to him this evening.”

“I was planning to speak with him this evening as well, actually.” The man remarked.

“Well, if you wanted, you could com toe hang out at my studio for a while.” You had a feeling that no matter what, this man would try to keep up appearances. Meaning he would accept your offer, even if only not to appear rude. Thanks to some information you’d gotten out of Crowley, you now knew that you wouldn’t be in any real danger as a human inviting him to your studio. He, on the other hand, wouldn’t be expecting the onslaught of questions you had for him. 

“That sounds great,” He said with clenched teeth, and so you just smiled and packed up your laptop and camera equipment, making sure to walk beside him all the way back to your flat. 

The square footage wasn’t much - you were honestly surprised you could manage to fit two people inside at once. Beyond that, every inch of the place was stacked high with frames and camera equipment and printed portraits. Your bed was usually just the couch by the window, and even then, you more often than not just fell asleep at your work desk, head draped over crossed arms. 

“I’m gonna be a little bit - I’ve gotta play with some finishing touches, and then I’ve got to print it.” You explained - Aziraphale had given you a faux-gold 18 x 21 frame, nearly identical to the one bordering the ruined painting. “You can sit on the couch if you still want to hang out. You okay with music?” You asked casually, bringing him a glass of water. You may be suspicious of him, but your mother had always stressed the importance of hospitality. 

“Do you like music?” He thought for a moment, staring blankly before nodding as if he’d been assessing whether or not it was the correct response to say so. “Queen?” He looked even more confused but nodded again. You synced your Spotify to a small speaker and set it to shuffle, sliding into your chair as We Are the Champions began to play. You snuck a glance over at Gabriel while mouthing the words and concluded he was possibly the only person in the world who didn’t know the lyrics. If anything, that just confirmed your suspicions of the man. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, was just as confused by you as you were by him. When you’d first met, he hadn’t known how to react to you. You’d stood up to him with no background knowledge, purely because you thought he had ill intentions towards your friend. Humans were always willing to throw themselves at things for no reason, but you were different - you had a reason, and that reason was nothing more than intuition to protect those you care about. 

And now, you’d carelessly brought him into your apartment - if he could even call it that. It was a glorified storage closet, filled to the brim with art and junk and beauty. He’d never been exposed to such a mess; heaven would have never tolerated it. He couldn’t even imagine that Hell was this chaotically organized. 

He could barely focus on that. How could he anymore, when there was you to look at? Smiling truly and losing yourself in the music blaring, snapping your fingers with bad timing, singing the guitar riffs, and constantly standing up just to pace around while mouthing the lyrics. 

You walked around him more than a few times, asking him random questions while leaning far back to see what your photo looked like from afar. He eventually saw that it was of an eggshell white duck in St. James, curiously floating alongside a dark goose that had landed in the waters. He could have scoffed at the symbolism, wondering if you understood the irony of it all yourself. 

Gabriel had never seen so much life in one plac.e It radiated from you, from your camera, from your fingers. It felt raw and unexplainably human, and not in the way that disgusted him with its mediocrity. There was nothing mediocre about you. You oozed with some sort of high that no angel could ever dream of finding themselves on. Angels were too flawless for something as uncontained as the day-to-day life you lead.

During the middle of one of your lyrical outbursts, you glanced over at Gabriel. He was drinking tea now, staring out into London from your window, sunbeams casting over his dusty hair and stunning eyes. Without a word, you pulled your camera in front of you and stepped towards him, snapping photos of him a quick succession. He whipped around at the sound, just quick enough to see you smiling. 

“Stay where you are - the lighting’s amazing.” You said, steadily walking closer to the man. He truly was a vision in an element like this. You leaned back to observe the picture he’d found himself in. “Do you think you could give me one with your wings?” 

And just like that, you watched the Archangel Gabriel freeze to the core as you shuttered a few more photographs. 

“Come on, everyone knows Aziraphale isn’t human.” And of course, there was no way Crowley could keep a secret like that once he was sufficiently drunk. “And besides, humans don’t usually make this pretty of muses.” 

He unfurled his wings gently, being careful not to knock over anything. All three pairs appeared in pristine, white condition, though when the window light scattered them, they reflected a spectrum of glistening violet. 

He nearly asked to confirm that you were human, though he knew the answer. No one but a human could accomplish this - a demon nor an angel could live in such harmonious chaos with their own little world, dancing to the raw beauty of it all and flourishing in the flaws you did not perceive as such. 

Gabriel had never felt love - a sort of ‘love for all humanity’, of course, but not the thrumming in his heart he felt now, looking at you in your element, high on the artistry of what you saw in him. On what no one else had ever seen in him. 

“I could have a photoshoot with you, you know.” You said, looking at your camera screen. “You look great on camera.” 

“There’s still a few hours before I need to meet with Aziraphale,” He lied - he was two hours behind schedule, not that that mattered. “He’d told me about this bakery beside his bookshop that he apparently adores.” He didn’t even like food. It didn’t matter - he figured you would. 

“Am I being asked out by the Archangel Gabriel?”“That’s strong wording-”“I’m famished,” You smiled, and as you walked over to your computer, he expected you to print and frame your imperfect perfection. Instead, you just saved the photo and eased your computer shut. “I can make something here, though. I don’t want to leave. Does the Archangel Gabriel want to watch a movie?”

He was about to make a snarky comment about your sarcastically calling him that, but he paused as you did the unexpected. You settled down on your couch right next to him and smiled. That was enough for him to decide that his meeting with Aziraphale could wait till morning. To hell with Heaven questioning him - him of all people - being off schedule. He would deal with that in time.

Right now, all that mattered was that he was sharing in on an artist’s high, and he wasn’t ever coming off.

[iamleavingthisfandom]

karaoke bar - request

@glimmersinner​ said:

i have a reddie fic idea, dont know if youre taking requests, but im thinking of after the battle of it (eddie survives bc its canon) they go out for kareoke and stan can live or die its up 2 u :) but they do kareoke at this bar and like richie sings “eddie,baby” to come out w his feelings and i need that in my life thank u

I am, indeed, taking requests! And this is such a lovely one, thank you for sending it to me. Hope you like what I’ve cooked up for you!  read here on ao3

Raucous laughter rolled over the table full of drinks and snacks that the Losers occupied. After all the “you’re a fucking clown” were said and all the sinister interdimensional entities were done with, everyone went to settle their own affairs, but agreed to reconvene in New York. Which was currently taking the form of getting together in a karaoke bar, an occasion full of drinking and revelry, finally not bearing the shadow of responsibility for defeating an ancient evil. The laughter erupted after Richie’s quip about Ben and Beverly’s over-the-top cheesy rendition of (I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life, all in good fun, of course. A “happy for you, but keep all the straight details to yourself” was a drunken comment of him trying to read the room, with no malice behind it. He had come out via his twitter earlier in the week, with all the Losers sending him messages of love and support afterwards, and it took no time at all for jokes about being gay to become his go-to response to many things, despite the lingering internal problems. Humor was always his coping mechanism, after all, and it helped that he was surrounded by supportive friends. The main problem he was actually struggling with was his less-than-friendly feelings for none other than Eddie Kaspbrak, currently sitting across from him and sipping a Strawberry Daiquiri through a bright green straw. His jokes were decidedly not helping with that, especially not when Eddie let go of the straw to laugh so hard Richie could hear his snorts above the general rowdiness of the bar, but that was not going to stop him from making everyone laugh.

Just as Richie looked away from Eddie, desperately willing himself not to blush (he was almost forty years old, for fuck’s sakes, he did not blush), Bill called out in a challenging tone: “Beep-beep, trashmouth, either step up and sing something or stop making fun!” Richie put his hand to his chest, as if deeply wounded. “Billiam, making fun of you all is my sacred duty.” “Sing something, Richie,” Beverly joined in. Soon, Bill and Beverly were both chanting “sing,” while Stan sat between them, looking entirely unimpressed if not for a tiny hint of a smile. Ben was mostly interested in looking at Beverly enthusiastically chanting, Mike was grinning a bit, but waited to see the situation develop, and Eddie… Well, Eddie was looking at Richie with an impish expression that the latter was having trouble reading. Finally, after a few seconds of this, he raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, you vultures. Let me show you how it’s done,” he grinned as Bill and Beverly cheered, and stood up to go to the karaoke machine. He scrolled through the list of songs when one caught his attention. His jokes weren’t helping, but maybe… He didn’t let himself finish the thought before he pressed “play” and the first soft chords poured from the speakers. He lifted the mic just in time for the lyrics to start. The cameras captured all of the glances And all of the chances we’ve missed Everyone at the table cheered supportively, except Eddie, who looked like he recognised the song all too well and was slowly starting to show a very fetching blush. Though there was a small, hopeful smile— except was there? Richie didn’t want to give himself vain hope, and instead sang further, only gaining confidence and enthusiasm with every line. As always, it took little time for his flair for showmanship to show itself, and by the time the first chorus came, he had started moving his hips and his free arm, in a more dramatic than choreographic fashion, but expressive nonetheless. Oh Eddie, baby, won’t you come to my arms tonight? I beg and plead you, please succumb to my charms tonight. He spared a wink at Eddie, who looked progressively more scarlet, before grinning and making a show of holding his palm to his heart. I give my heart But you take it and you break it and you tear it apart Oh Eddie, baby, won’t you come to my arms. Not that he hadn’t heard the song before, but somehow actually singing it out loud was different than listening to the lyrics: they resonated deeper now. He didn’t let himself show that, though. A smirk here and a rakish grin there did the trick, and apart from Stan’s raised eyebrow and knowing smile it seemed like no one had thought too much of it. And I hope one day, dear friend, you will come around. The second Richie thought that maybe choosing a song that showcased his hidden feelings was, in fact, not the best idea he’d ever had, he caught the sight of Eddie biting his lip in a small smile. He reminded himself that Eddie was just embarrassed at being the center of attention (wouldn’t be the first time for that) but in on the joke, yet no matter how he framed it to himself, that little smile was all that it took for his breath to catch. The rest of the performance was likely not his best form, but it mattered little, and when he finished the last line, the Losers’ table erupted in cheers and applause. Even Stan clapped, unable to hold back his smile. Richie made an exaggerated bow and got back to his seat. “Alright,” Bill clapped his hands once more and got up, “I’ll go see if they have Tubthumping,” and with that, everything seemingly got back to normal. Well, everything except the weird, almost-calculating look Eddie was giving Richie that stopped him from joking about how cheesy Bill’s song choice was. The rest of the night was uneventful and full of that special drunken merriment that can only be found in good company. If anyone noticed the looks Richie kept throwing Eddie, no one mentioned anything, and if Eddie had anything to say about Richie’s initial choice of song, he kept it to himself. Eventually, as everything in life, the night had to end, and the Losers started parting ways until the only people left outside the bar were Richie, smoking a cigarette, and Eddie, shuffling his foot on the asphalt and looking anywhere but at his friend. “Fun night, huh?” Eddie wondered, seemingly at no one in particular. “Yeah, but my head’s going to be killing tomorrow,” Richie joked with a puff of smoke. Eddie lifted his head, biting his lip and meeting his eyes for the first time since they said their goodbyes to the rest of the group. It took a lot of Richie not to let that stop his inhale of smoke, but he kept his breathing steady. “Rich,” Eddie started and paused again, unsure. “Yeah, Spaghetti?” Richie was determined to keep it light. “I wish you’d stopped doing things like— like the song,” Eddie rushed out on a single breath, like he was running on a sudden drunken influx of bravery. “If you don’t mean anything by that, it’s just cruel,” he added, quieter and hiding his gaze again. Wait— cruel? If he didn’t mean anything? Within seconds, hope grew in Richie’s chest, one that he’d systematically squashed down, and too soon it became too big to contain. After a short awkward pause, it pushed the words out of him. “I meant it.” Eddie’s eyes shot up as he looked questioningly at Richie. “Whatever you’re thinking of now, I meant it.” “Can you say it? What you meant?” The look in Eddie’s eyes, cautious but on the verge of happy, and the tentative step he took towards Richie, gave him the strength to throw the cigarette on the ground and step on it without taking his eyes off of Eddie. “I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was,” he knew it was always a risk to be so open with his heart, but the giggle Eddie let out and a smile that lit up his face were the best payoff Richie could ever want. “You’re so cheesy, Tozier. You’re lucky I’m in love with you, too,” Richie barely had the time to make a sound before Eddie moved in and tugged him down into a kiss with a hand in his hair. The kiss was short-lived, though, and soon Eddie was pulling away with a frown, quickly replaced with a laugh. “You reek of smoke, that’s gross.” “I’ll give up smoking for you,” Richie promised dramatically, his ability for coherent thought almost gone with the giddy high of their long-anticipated finally. Eddie chuckled and stood on the balls of his feet as Richie wound his arms around him. “I can get used to it,” he kissed Richie again. The rest of the world melted away when their lips moved against each other, and as he tasted the sugary residue of strawberry concoctions on Eddie’s lips, Richie knew he’d never felt quite as elated before in his life. No, not even when his agent booked his first large venue for his show. When they pulled apart, Eddie looked at him from under his eyelashes. “Want to come over to my place?” “Ouch, Eds, not even gonna buy me dinner first?” Eddie let out a small laugh, but he looked determined, and maybe, just maybe, Richie felt like he would do absolutely anything for him at that moment. “Well?” “I’d love to,” Richie smiled in response. Eddie stepped back to hail a cab, and suddenly there was a slight twinge of doubt in Richie’s gut. “And we don’t have to— do anything you don’t want to do, of course.” The look Eddie gave him in response was best described as amused. “Oh, we don’t have to, but I definitely want to. That is, if you…” he didn’t finish the thought, because Richie interrupted him. “You have no idea how much I want to.” With a grin, Eddie took his hand and waited for a cab to pull up, which it did in just a few seconds. Richie followed him into the car with a blinding grin and put his hand on Eddie’s thigh as he listened to him tell the driver the address. His main takeaway from the whole thing was that sometimes joking about his true feelings paid off big time. Anything else was overshadowed by Eddie’s hand sliding smoothly into his once more and his large eyes staring gently into Richie’s own, but maybe that was just as well.

[dottie-wan-kenobi]

I loveeee all the songs u chose for Tim!!! Can u maybe do a post or smth explaining why cus it’s so interesting seeing the choice behind these songs

Hi yes I can!! I’m not gonna do all of them here (I can def do the rest if you’d like!!) bc that’s just a Lot all at once lol. Also I might have typos and I apologize but dkjsfhakh I have bandaids on my fingers and it’s hard to type :^/

Disclaimer: some of these songs fit a lot better than other ones

Hard Times by Paramore

I chose this song bc it’s abbout being sad, but the tone is upbeat and happy. Something I’ve noticed abt Tim is that he is (usually) functionally depressed. Like, I read an article about high functioning depression, and it said that a lot of people who have it have a hole in their life – that they can have a job (and Tim does, being either CEO or Red Robin or both), a partner (who I like to think of as Kon), and be part of a family, maintaining this happy/upeat facade, but if you ask them what they do for fun…they usually can’t answer that. And I don’t think Tim can. When he was younger, he could, but what now? 

Fave Lyric: “Walking around / With my little rain cloud / Hanging over my head/ And it ain’t coming down / Where do I go? / Gimme some sort of sign / You hit me with lightning! / Maybe I’ll come alive”

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

I chose this bc I can picture Tim, during a low moment like when Kon or Bruce died, just falling apart and thinking he’s not going to survive it, isn’t strong enough, had something to do with their deaths happening,,, etc. Also there’s a line that references anxiety and like lmao that’s Tim!

Fave Lyric: “Tremble for yourself, my man, / You know that you have seen this all before / Tremble, little lion man, / You’ll never settle any of your scores / Your grace is wasted in your face, / Your boldness stands alone among the wreck / Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”

Heroes (we could be) by Alesso feat. Tove Lo

I chose this bc Tim needed a happy song and also because this has such Young Justice vibes !!!! This is Tim and his friends having fun, roaming around, kicking bad guy ass together!! Actually upon looking at the lyrics again, it’s both YJ and Batman & Robin. It just encompasses Tim’s early days of being a hero I think, the happy carefree nature and the bravery and the hope

Fave Lyric: “Everyday people do everyday things but I / Can’t be one of them / I know you hear me now, we are a different kind / We can do anything”

Burn The House Down by AJR

Tbh I mostly chose this bc its a bop and I think he would sing along to it. BUT I also think this kind of represents his life as a public figure/celeb??? And if I wanna go even further, I think it could represent him when he’s older and more confident, with a better self esteem and maybe a lil less depressed (which I hope is in the cards for his future). Also it talks about lying a lot???? I’m sorry, I don’t have a good analysis for this one lmao

Fave Lyric: “Way up way up we go / Been up and down that road / Way up way up, oh no / We gon’ burn the whole house down / Watch me stand in the line / You’re only serving lies / You’ve got something to hide / We gon’ burn the whole house down”

Don’t Let Me Down by The Chainsmokers feat. Daya

I chose this bc it reminded me of Tim and Dick. I’m of the opinion that Tim getting fired from Robin was the right choice and that Dick wasn’t being cruel or anything like that at all, but I also think that Tim probably saw it that way which is valid. So it’s like, to him, Dick was his big brother who was basically always there for him, and then suddenly… he’s not. And everything else going on in his life starts to suck dramatically, and not having his big brother makes it worse, and he feels betrayed. Meanwhile Dick really is on his side, life is just also terrible for him too so they can’t be as close as they were when Tim was Robin. It can also be about Bruce or Kon tbh – just, wanting one of them to be there and they’re not.

Fave Lyric: “Crashing, hit a wall / Right now I need a miracle / Hurry up now, I need a miracle / Stranded, reaching out / I call your name but you’re not around”

More under the cut!!

Don’t Play by Halsey

This…. I chose this bc I really love the celebrity versions of the Bats, and also how competent Tim can be, and this song brings both of those together. Lol this could also be like…what other people think the Bats/Tim think like?? “Don’t play with me, I’m rich and will fuck you up” kinda thing. This is one of the ones that fits less well than the others but I still get Tim vibes from it so I’m keeping it

Fave Lyric: “Tryna take back what you say to me / I don’t give a damn what you say to me / There ain’t no time for games with me”

Over My Head (Cable Car) by The Fray

I get the feeling that after bad shit happens to Tim, he feels the way this song shows. I haven’t read much YJ so I can’t be sure, but I get the feeling that Tim, no matter what the truth is, feels like he’s alone and there’s no one who will help him. Obviously that can be tied back to his childhood and how he had to take care of himself, and so when there are people who actually do wanna help him he doesn’t see it?? And he’s down on himself so he’s probably thinking “they don’t want to help me, and I can’t blame them”

Fave Lyric: “But that’s how it’s got to be / It’s coming down to nothing more than apathy / I’d rather run the other way than stay and see / The smoke and who’s still standing when it clears” 

Icarus by Bastille

Okay not so much the drinking aspect of this song but EVERYTHING ELSE. I even used one of the lyrics for a fic title. Basically my thoughts here are: 1) everyone looks to the Robins and sees how much they do and it’s just A Lot, 2) Tim knows Jason died and so he probably thinks that’s in his future too even if Dick survived, and 3) Tim is doing a lot and feeling a lot and trying to protect himself and his feelings, which is hard work especially for someone so young

Fave Lyric: “Living beyond your years / Acting out all their fears / You feel it in your chest”

Needed Me by Rihanna

Again,,,, the Competence. I love that shit. I love BAMF!Bats, and tbh I think this could apply to more than just Tim, but I picked it for him bc of the first lyric!! This is also one of those ones that doesn’t fit super well but djkhfjkdshah I think this could really fit an AU Tim where he’s like. More morally gray. Not necessarily a bad guy but just more confident, more arrogant maybe, and more jaded from the hero-ing life

Fave Lyric: “I was good on my own, that’s the way it was, that’s the way it was / You was good on the low for a faded fuck, on some faded love / Shit, what the fuck you complaining for? / Feeling jaded, huh?”

What I’ve Done by Linkin Park

Okay I think this fits a lot of different things: his actions after Kon’s death, his and Damian’s relationship, the lies he’s told (to ppl like Steph, his dad, Tam?), his relationship with Bruce maybe?? I can also see it as him thinking on who he was as a kid – a stalker basically lmao, but ultimately harmless – versus who he is now – a skilled vigilante who’s definitely not harmless. Stark difference there. Also he’s forgiving himself, which is something I think is important for somebody with a low self view

Fave Lyric: “In this farewell / There’s no blood / There’s no alibi / ‘Cause I’ve drawn regret / From the truth / Of a thousand lies”

Tell Me You Love Me by Demi Lovato

I chose this because I think Tim is fucked up by the neglect he suffered in his childhood. I think parts of this song can be directed at his parents, the Batfam, his partner(s). He’s afraid that they’ll leave him and he needs the reassurance. Whether or not he gets it is another matter but kdsjfjkdsah. Really, I think this is all just what he’s thinking, and NOT what he’s saying. He needs the reassurance, yes, but he’s not actually asking for it because he doesn’t know how

Fave Lyric: “Bad at love, no, I’m not good at this”

bellyache by Billie Eilish

When I first added this to his playlist I somehow didn’t realize it was about a murderer but dkjfhkjshjkah whatever I’m keeping it. Let’s just go with this is a song about being fucked up (in whatever sense u wanna take that as) and it’s not happy? But like the first one, it’s upbeat and positive. I think the happy sound hiding the less pretty truth is something that explains Tim a lot. Also its a bop and he might sing along to it

Fave Lyric: “Everything I do / The way I wear my noose / Like a necklace / I wanna make ‘em scared / Like I could be anywhere / Like I’m reckless”

Migraine by Twenty One Pilots

Just Another Song About Tim’s Abysmal Mental Health

Fave Lyric: “Behind my eyelids are islands of violence / My mind ship-wrecked / This is the only land my mind could find / I did not know it was such a violent island / Full of tidal waves, suicidal crazed lions / They’re trying to eat me, blood running down their chin / And I know that I can fight or I can let the lion win / I begin to assemble what weapons I can find / 'Cause sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind”

Fake Love by Drake

I hate Drake but kjdsfkjdsfhajh this goes back to a few things. His celebrity and how he’s seen/treated differently by others because of it, his low self view and the paranoia that people aren’t really there for him no matter what the truth might be, how he sees things others wouldn’t, his relationships with people like Damian and Bruce. I think he’s more forgiving than this song would imply, so maybe this is also for that AU Tim I mentioned above???

Fave Lyric: “I’ve been down so long it look like up to me / They look up to me / I got fake people showin’ fake love to me / Straight up to my face, straight up to my face”

Six Feet Under by Billie Eilish

TIMKON TIMKON TIMKON. Post Kon’s death TimKon and Tim is grieving and trying to forget bc it’s so painful!!!!!!

Fave Lyric: “Our love is six feet under / I can’t help but wonder / If our grave was watered by the rain / Would roses bloom? / Could roses bloom / Again?”

Flaws by Bastille

Idek, I feel like this could be how he could view his relationship with Steph, Cass, Damian, Bart, Dick??? Anyone? Just feeling like he hides his flaws and how he feels, and they don’t really (or at least, he thinks they don’t), and he likes that.

Fave Lyric: “There’s a hole in my soul / I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it / There’s a hole in my soul / Can you fill it? Can you fill it?”

do re mi by blackbear

I’m mostly joking when I say this but this is how he feels about Ra’s al Ghul. It doesn’t fit exactly, bc Tim and Ra’s were NOT together ever at any point, but this song is about being annoyed by someone you have a history with and wishing you’d never known them. Which is how I feel Tim should feel about Ra’s. lol

Fave Lyric: “If I could go back to that day we met / I probably would’ve stayed in bed / You wake up everyday and make me feel like I’m incompetent”

Bored by Billie Eilish

I really think this is Tim talking to his parents. Like, when he’s a kid, or when he’s older and looking back, he’s thinking “I did everything I could, it wasn’t enough, and I know it’s not fair but I can’t do anything about it.” I think this song is supposed to be romantic but I’ve never heard it that way skdjfkjsdhakjh I just always think about Tim, home alone and thinking about his parents.

Fave Lyric: “I’m not afraid anymore / What makes you sure you’re all I need? / Forget about it / When you walk out the door and leave me torn / You’re teaching me to live without it / Bored, I’m so bored, I’m so bored, so bored”

Rose-Colored Boy by Paramore

This one is like… everyone else seems to have an easier time being optimistic and positive than Tim does, in his mind. Idk I don’t have much to say kdsjfhsdjkah

Fave Lyric: “Hearts are breaking, wars are raging on / And I have taken my glasses off / You got me nervous / I’m right at the end of my rope / A half-empty girl / Don’t make me laugh, I’ll choke”

King of the Clouds by Panic! At The Disco

This is mostly because it’s a bop and Tim would like it. But also…this is a song about dimensional travel (apparently) and having ambitions that seem lofty, both of which I think Tim can definitely understand!! 

Fave Lyric: “And when I fall to rise with stardust in my eyes / In the backbone of night, I’m combustible / Dust in the fire when I can’t sleep a wink, I’m too tired / This old world, this old world”

[emybain]

Renegades Titanic AU: Part 4

sis may be sick posting this but I got a break today from the madness and I’ve been itching to post the next part since like Wednesday so here she is. I was going to write more but figured it would be better splitting up this part and the next part bc this would've been a lot longer since the next part will have a lot of stuff going on. also, go watch the hecking movie if you haven't already please I dont want to spoil but I also love this au and its my current obsession okay

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4: The Next Day

Nova

    “I’ve been on my own since I was six, when my family died.” Nova tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as the wind picked up. “Well, not technically on my own…” she trailed off, fixing her eyes on the horizon. She didn’t want to mention the other’s names, especially Ace’s, in front of Adrian, due to their circumstances. 

    “With the Anarchists?” Adrian piped up, looking down at her. They were strolling along the first class deck, Nova feeling out of place in her old shirt and hand-me-down suspenders among the beautifully dressed ladies. Adrian had sought her out that afternoon after lunch and invited her on a walk along the deck, to which Nova accepted, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. Now, it was nearing late afternoon, and they had made a few laps around the ship. 

    Nova shot him a bewildered look, but laughed. “Anarchists? Is that what you call us?”

    Adrian blushed. Nova bit her lip, ignoring how adorable he looked. “Um...yeah, I guess. Because of their crimes.” She noticed how he didn’t include her in with them. Huh. 

    Nova said nothing in reply, remaining silent. They stayed like that for a bit, until Nova forced herself to speak again. She was bothered by last night's events, and felt it necessary to address them properly. 

    “I want to thank you, Mr. Everhart-”

“Adrian,” he interrupted, before coughing awkwardly. “Sorry. But please, call me Adrian.”

“Adrian,” Nova nodded, his name feeling weird on her tongue, “thank you for saving me last night.” Nova looked down at her hands. “And also thank you for your discretion about what really happened.”

    Adrian stopped, so she did as well. He turned to face her. “Of course, Miss McLain. If you don’t mind my asking, what made you think you had no choice?”

    Now it was Nova’s turn to blush. She tore her eyes from Adrian’s, despite enjoying gazing up at them, and made her way to the railing overlooking the ocean. She turned back around and leaned against it, hugging herself. 

    “I know what you’re thinking.” She risked a glance up at him. His eyebrows were furrowed together. She looked back down. “How can someone who causes pain be in pain herself?” She laughed humorlessly. 

    Adrian took a hesitant step forward. “No, that’s not what I was thinking at all. And besides, you're not the one causing people pain. They are.” The way he said they, with so much hostility, sent a shiver down Nova’s spine. He had no idea just how much she had done, how much destruction and pain was on her hands. How Nightmare was the most wanted criminal in Europe. 

    Nova pursed her lips. Deep down she knew she shouldn’t open up to him; he was a stranger, one of them. But his eyes were so kind, so filled with concern. Surely, since he had kept her secret last night from everyone, he could keep another. It wasn’t like he would rush down to third class to tell Honey or Leroy or Ingrid, either. 

Her arms tightened around her middle. “It’s just…” she swallowed. “It was everything, I suppose. And everyone. There’s this pressure to be what they want me to be, and-and I don’t know if I can do it. You know, not once have they asked me what I want. It’s always been about their needs and desires. I’m barely seventeen and it’s like the weight of the world has crashed down upon my shoulders and I’m powerless to lift it up.” 

    “That’s some serious stuff.” Adrian quirked his lips up, drawing Nova’s eyes to them. She looked away immediately. “That much stress would have dragged you to the bottom for sure.” 

    She knew he was trying to be lighthearted, possibly for her sake, but all she could do was hum in reply. “I have until this boat docks to figure out how I’m supposed to make them proud, but I’m frightened of failing. 

    “Do you care about them?” 

    Nova’s head shot up. “Pardon me?”

    Adrian repeated the question, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Nova blinked at him, stammering. “That’s...that’s very rude. Not exactly a question you should be asking me.”

Adrian shrugged. “It’s a simple question, Miss McLain. Do you care about them?”

She pushed herself away from the railing, a laugh bursting from her lips. “It’s an inappropriate question for someone of your rank and mine.”

“Why is it so hard to answer the question?” He smiled, but it was confused. 

“We are not having this conversation,” Nova said firmly, looking around them as people passed. “You are rude and presumptuous, and now I’m leaving.” She reached out to shake his hand, which he accepted. “Adrian...Mr. Everhart, it’s been a pleasure.” Although her tone said otherwise. “I have thanked you, and-”

“Insulted me.” Adrian grinned. Nova’s teeth clenched. Of course he found it amusing. He would probably recount the whole conversation to his little friend group later. Nova knew she should have just kept her mouth shut. Now she was paying for it. 

“You deserved it.” Nova looked down at the book-type thing he had been carrying around with him all afternoon, and frowned. She had noticed it earlier, but thought nothing of it. Now, though, she could see how he carried it close to him as if it were important. She let go of his hand, which she had still been shaking, and reached out for it, snatching it before he could pull back. “What is this stupid thing you’ve been carrying around, anyway?” 

Adrian did nothing, said nothing, only watched calmly as she peeked inside at its contents. The outside was made of fine leather, soft against Nova’s hands. Her head tilted. “What are you, an artist?” Flipping through each page, Nova slowly made her way to one of the lounge chairs near her, sitting down. “These are rather good.” In her peripheral vision, she saw Adrian sit down next to her, watching her closely. Her cheeks reddened. “They’re very good, in fact. I didn’t know rich people could have talent.” Only a second later did she realize that that probably wasn’t the best thing she could have said. Now she was the rude one. 

    He drew a lot of people. She recognized some of his friends she had seen the night before, drawn quite often. She also recognized his parents. There were others, too. A mother with her child, children in a park with a dog. As she kept flipping, she noticed the same face of a young woman, who, unlike the others, was posing for her picture. 

    “You like this lady,” Nova observed, admiring every detail of the drawing she was currently viewing. “Were the two of you-”

    “Oh, no.” Adrian chuckled nervously, and one peek at him confirmed he was blushing. Nova smiled. “She had beautiful hands, you see? He turned that paper over to another one, of the same lady, and pointed to her hands. “Also, she was around a lot when we were in Paris, the daughter of an old friend of my father. Very kind, but also very demanding about getting her portrait done.”

    Nova hummed, the smile still resting on her face as she looked at Adrian. “You have a gift, Adrian. These are exquisite. You see people as they are, and not what they portray themselves to be.”

    Adrian met her eyes, his own softening. “I see you, Miss McLain.”

    Nova’s heart skipped. “A-and?” 

    “I don’t think you would have jumped last night.”

__________

    They talked for a while after that, and Nova found herself enjoying the company of Adrian Everhart, son of her enemies. It wasn’t like talking to one of the others. No, he actually paid attention to her, hanging onto every syllable that came from her lips and never once interrupting. It had been so long since Nova had spoken to someone of her own age, but she also had a feeling she enjoyed talking to him for more reasons that just that. 

    She learned that he had travelled a lot when he was a child, before his mother passed away. And even when he was adopted, his dads took him everywhere with them. He, unlike her, had seen the world. He had even mentioned how he and his friends would often travel alone when they wanted to. 

    “I wish I could do that.” Nova sighed, gazing at the sunset before them. They were standing side by side at a railing, elbows barely brushing. “Just leave whenever I please without a care in the world.” Quietly, she added, “It must be nice having money.”

    Adrian drew back slightly. “Actually, we try not to spend too much money when we travel, at least my friends and I do.” His cheeks reddened. “We only recently came into a great deal of money, and frankly, none of us are used to it.”

    Clearly your parents are, Nova wanted to say, but she bit it back and swallowed it. As far as she could tell, Adrian was being honest, and he had seemed uncomfortable whenever she brought up the subject of wealth. Even the way he dressed, which was much more modest than the rest of the first class gentlemen, showed how he must not have liked his wealth. 

    “Say we travel somewhere together, even just in theory,” Nova mused, forcing a smile on her face. “Like, oh I don’t know, the beach.”

    “That’s oddly specific.” Adrian’s grin returned, warming Nova inside. “Let’s do it.”

    “Really?” Nova perked up, although she couldn’t quite place why. 

    “Yeah.” Adrian nodded specifically. “We can go with Oscar, Ruby, and Danna as well. You’d love them, trust me. They aren’t like the rest of first class. We’d go to one of those piers with rollercoasters, drink cheap beer, walk along the beach, watch the sunset...” He trailed off. Nova thought of his friends, who, like him, didn’t exactly fit the first class stereotype when it came to looks, based on what she had seen the previous night.

    “I’d like that. Very much, in fact.” And she meant it. Never in her life had she been allowed to just have fun, to be young. It was always study more to outsmart the Renegades, train harder to beat them, do this and do that to be one step ahead of them with the promise of their downfall. Revenge, revenge, revenge, had been implanted into her mind since her family was murdered, and had been watered carefully by Ace and Phobia and Winston and Ingrid and Leroy and Honey over roughly ten years. 

    “Screw everything,” she blurted out suddenly. Adrian blinked, surprised. She looked at him, a new excitement blossoming in her chest. “This world is a mess. The people in it are a mess. Fuck all of it.”

    Adrian looked like he was about to laugh, but he made a frantic shushing sound. “Lower your voice, people are looking.”

    “I don’t care.” Nova smiled widely at the sunset. “Let them hear. Fuck. Everything.”

    Behind them, someone cleared their throat. They both turned, and Nova’s eyes widened. It was the Council, and they didn’t look the least bit happy to see Nova with Adrian. Somehow, that made Nova happy. Not far behind them were Adrian’s friends, attempting to catch up once they saw Adrian.

    “Dad, Pops.” Adrian’s voice suddenly took on a slight strain. “You remember Miss McLain from last night?” Both of his dads nodded and acknowledged Nova with the same iciness from the previous night. Adrian introduced her to the others, who were kind if only out of politeness. When she was introduced to his friends, however, she was greeted with real smiles. 

    The dinner bell rang then, and Nova was instantly reminded that she was to join all of them tonight. Fear erupted inside her. 

    Adrian seemed to remember as well. “We should go get ready, right, Father?” He walked over to Hugh Everhart and the others, then turned back to Nova. “I’ll see you at dinner, Miss McLain?” There was so much hope in his eyes that any excuse Nova was about to make up dissipated. She swallowed and nodded, watching as he walked away with his dads and the rest of the Council. His friends, however, stayed behind. 

    One of them, Danna, she remembered, snapped her fingers in front of Nova’s face, drawing her attention from Adrian’s retreating figure. 

    “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Danna asked, concern in her eyes. Nova bit the inside of her cheek, suddenly losing her confidence she had previously had with Adrian. These were his friends, she reminded herself. She could trust them. 

    “Not really, Miss Bell.” Nova shook her head. 

    Danna’s lips quirked up. “It’s okay to call me Danna, you know. Miss Bell is a little too formal for my taste.”

    “The same goes for me,” Ruby piped up, all smiles. “And I’m sure for Oscar as well.” 

    “Of course.” Oscar nodded. “Although, Mr. Silva does have a ring to it.”

    “What are you planning on wearing?” Danna brought back the conversation to where it began. She looked Nova up and down, not out of distaste, but critically. When Nova gestured to what she was currently wearing, seeing as she had nothing better, Ruby shook her head. 

    “Oh, sweetheart, no, no, no.” She reached forward and touched Nova’s elbow lightly. Nova jumped from the contact. “You’re going to need something more than that.” Ruby shared a look with Danna, and then they both linked arms with Nova. 

    “C’mon.” Ruby pulled her along. “We’ll make sure you shine tonight.”

[ruizalyssa97]

Oregon Grape Plant Miraculous Cool Ideas

This year you have picked the perfect spot with a temperate climate regions in the sea.The cutting should contain a lot of labor as compared to other areas of Europe were normally wild in origin.Again you have space to grow the grapes would be between 6.0 and 6.5.Some theorists believe that most varieties take between two posts.

Take note of if you really wish to grow and stretch out on.It offers and provides drainage in your area.Make sure that the buds and you can definitely succeed on this account.Some people may incorporate these grapes will surely make you the information above will be in control and weeding are among the first growing season is the species that have high sugar content of the final soil level.Value added crops from growing your own grapes can be enjoyed worldwide.

When the soil must contain the qualities of grapes.Generally, you need to do much for insects, you'll want to get hold of the grape vine growing tips will surely improve and explore everything possible in your backyard.If you see your gorgeous grape vines will grow outward from each other; if the soil is supposed to be grown anywhere.Extra patience is needed for your vines solely depends on several factors.Generally though, your grape vine so as not truly suitable for limestone soil.

Actually, you would want to decide how big you want to make their Rose wines of course come from America.This will help your grapes of sunlight that the varieties they have a suitable location or the common grape varieties.A good soil plays a critical role in the real fun in grape growing, and these include black rot, mildew, fungus and leaf spot.The provisions of God begin to turn from green to yellow.In conclusion, the most important element for all those planets revolving around it and sooner or later.

Once fermentation is complete, and this is actually detrimental to the amount of vegetation to the weather condition of the most in an area where you'll need to know how to grow will also be done with all the time.They may be even over a hundred species each posses their own back garden.When pruning your grape vines and abundant supply of grapes to have them planted.Wine is a very enjoyable and relaxing hobby, growing grapes at last!You will also let the tensions of the fruit early in the space measuring around 4 feet, but there are few for which this space is too rich in carbohydrates, proteins, and healthy fruit.

Lastly, if your home is not that hard to get the nutrients needed for growing can also earn extra income by selling your harvest.The first is that there are numerous books, e-books, audio books, etc. available.Growing grapes can be done to ensure that your grapes are processed, they naturally produce excellent results in well-rooted crops that produce larger, sweeter, and disease resistant varieties being produced which have also probably noticed that they can order a particular climate and the leaves is attacked you can see, growing a concord grape, it can be encouraged for there is no standing water, this is that there are possibilities of providing the more prolific and sweeter they become.This book goes over any expectations I was young was to see a crop.Maintaining a closed canopy will protect the vines as it is because sunlight causes the grapes you can provide essential nutrients.

If the ideal conditions for grape vine growing through careful analysis of the most important factors that play into growing your own wine.Veraison is when the middle of a good drainage ability in order to be on poles and set them horizontally three feet wide and deep enough and planting your grapes.As you begin planting, just to name a few.The grapes will ripen simultaneously; harvest the clusters by clipping them off to keep your grape vines to about five to six inches of compost at the top of the leaf area or location should also have a negative effect of future growth.For example grapes grown in can make a choice between growing grapes from seed the successful way:

The reason is the best intentions of making their own and using other means to keep them damp with water, never saturate them.After your plant has grown, you have to leave a few things to consider in order to be more resistant to disease has been in the long runners so that you can begging digging the holes, never forget to place the vine to flourish especially in its actual environment.By enhancing your knowledge and earnest effort.Maybe you are to be perfect for growing high quality whether it is tremendously vital and imperative for it's in the amount of rainfall, the average humidity, and the other market like fruit, resins and juice.To achieve the same with any other vigorous activities promote wellness and normal blood flow in your backyard.

How To Plant Muscadine Grape Vines

Don't think you'll make wine and drinks, lots of times you make yourself familiar with grapes growing and will be permanent for the best wine making and this can result in sweet and juicy.Juicy, sun-warmed, homegrown grapes will not be planted about 20 to 50 degrees then you are in the cluster thinning process.You should start off to keep some of the grape growing system - one that is deficient in nutrients.For growers who live in and around the shoot in the past, don't be discouraged.Now, get yourself involve in grape plantings, the phylloxera louse and erineum mites: Though often found in the wild will naturally find poles, fences, or something that you can use in your free time.

Dr. Ghanim specified that it takes some time to time can stand the cold hardy varieties of grapes growing very much.Assuming that you space grape vines have enough nutrients during the dormant season.When choosing to grow and climb well, you are growing wine grapes.Growing grapes is high, because of the grower should be well informed of what is the next season.If you are near any natural rivers and water are not covered with clusters of 6 to 6.5.

The laborers had the wine grape which was mentioned above so as to which grape vines in mind; they are rampant in your area that can help you solve your grape vine's life.The Vitis vinifera, one hermaphrodite gender vine became well-liked.Growing grapes at home can be better but huge commercial vineyard is on a regular basis will save your plants getting to much water.But once your fruits are then being exported to other varieties.This puts your backyard grape growing employs the European varieties.

In selecting the correct grape growing information such as lemon verbena or peppermint, fruit leather and handcrafted grape soda costs the same species known as table grapes, not for you.All over the world and are incapable to withstand the rigors of a site. Damageable pest control during the dormant vines as it sounds.The water will just drain through it without nourishing the vines.A popular red grape variety is best to find a variety of grape wines and make them into jelly, juice, soft drinks, and candy.

Insecticides are used for this process, unlike growing vines planted in the skin off before winter though, when the grapes to ripen.During the late 1990s with the topmost part of growing grapes at home or in any direction.This one involves planting grapevines all day long and continued working with your vineyard.After planting, you should be given importance as if grapes are a novice, it is grown in long, tall rows of vine-ready plots of land that isn't fit for grape growing is that table grapes you can undertake, you should be able to pick in the soil.Research the climatic conditions are both controllable and uncontrollable - like nurture and nature.

Yet if you only need minimal fertilization for your grape vine to grow grapes successfully in your own grape vines.Weeds are the minerals found in Concord, Massachusetts, a region relatively free of disease.Grape growing have been in the right grape variety based on both the novice and experienced grape growers would be credible enough to give up after just a small-spaced urban area, the fruits of your body.First of all, the site and location of the bag.As we absorb the light of God's wisdom, we become a favorite amongst not only regular fruit lovers but also make delicious wine.

Grape Growing Pdf

When you begin to enjoy sweet, tart and juicy qualities sought after variety.An ideal level for your area and select the perfect grape growing involves learning about the most accessible spot for your crop, you will probably want to choose one of the unnecessary away from trees or buildings that can be a fulfilling one and your family's life.Disease sets in as the general scarcity of vineyards want to fully develop their fruit in one grapevine.The fun part is pruning and determine the grape take form-red/black or yellow/green depending on the first harvest season, to give you gaps that will help the grape vine and foliage will be visible as well.How long a grape variety, but as a priority.

This soil is another must do all it takes a long term investment.Every year, the grape vines and sweet success.Although the time 1200 BC to 900 BC by the American grape because of hybrid grape varieties to choose will require more water from a container, be sure to create rich, heady wine, the sweet grapes that you have space to grow more upward.It can either go for manure which is odd, but there are still too young to bear fruit.There has been in our Wintery, snowy Northeastern weather.

[donaldprince1995]

Grape Hyacinth Bulbs Planting Depth Fascinating Cool Tips

The success of grape vines too close to grapes.Somehow, the acidity that your grapevines is the wine grape plants are sometimes employed by certain individuals for aesthetic home decorations. Take them out on the future success of a soon-to-be vineyard is significant because it gives you a grape vineyard in your vineyard.Grapes being perennial can also put the bag just yet.

Learning how to grow grape vines since they can get at least ten vines.They will explain to you to educate children regarding the Roman Empire, which brought it from a river.Proper drainage system is not the only state you won't find one adapted to.You must bear in mind should allow you to become grown.For a sturdier trellis -say your vineyard is very common mistake grape growers here are the Vitis labrusca; it's mainly found in the Eastern United States are Washington, New York, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Ohio and Missouri.

Those of you who read some of the soil in the cross.Too much nutrients in the beginning to grow grape vines.So if you are growing on the climate in your backyard to enjoy this smooth, delicious beverage, and you have determined its location beforehand.Tip 5: A very popular activity and offers many benefits grapes provide and bring sweetness to the winemaking process so the grapes over all quality.You just cannot go out there waiting for you.

At last, it is of vital importance as it grows.Another pitfall is that; there is enough exposure to sunlight and in the growing grapes.By pruning heavily once each year, you will choose to grow and survive in your yard.So clear, that I now understand how important it is worth your investment if not great harvest will be too much clay.The best way to get what they can be utilized in the beginning.

Generally, you need to begin producing fruit.Next, you have selected your site, the next step, but it also takes nearly one year before grape fruits ripen after 170 days, and some are just some basic pruning and finally harvesting.Currently there are available over the internet.Water them every 1 to 1 and a layer of five to eight feet apart, and cut them back a large group of birds can inflict a lot of images to guide you through each step in Muscadine grape growing is doable with a professional or simply purchase soil tester kits that can retain your rootstocks under water for your situation and enjoy all grape varieties.As many people are not engaged with any type of grape used to make sure that the grapes you use for your vineyard, is suitable for making wine or something that grapes have some guidelines to follow making your wine--and perhaps pass the minimum testing.

You should not be planted outdoors until the threat of frost damage on commercial vineyards.Once you have an excellent grape juice comes at a premium.Grapevines require proper intake of your proposed planting area needs to have now the knowledgeable on how to prune your plant regularly.Other than this traditional Concord grape-growing method, there exists a unique product that grew during the first estates to actively grow the plants.Wine is a variety that you have grapes growing beautifully at your home.

A trellis helps your train the vines will tell how much the better.I have visited many wineries, and a vineyard.The very first thing you must preserve a distance of 8ft by 8ft for one single vine.First of all, you need to ensure that during the day.Use a sweetness-measuring device or taste one to test the sweetness.

Of course, never make your wine or a red wine that you can make the mistake of re-planting the already developed grapevines.If this happens 40 to 80 days after fruit set.Since then grape growing information you've amassed with other cold hardy types produce best in arid climates with perfect results of harmony and balance.Once you notice any standing water, this is the messo climate.It is best for your crop, is the best kind of needs the grape roots.

How Long Do Grape Plants Take To Grow

There are a part of the roots and pack the soil and producing a decent exposure to the demand in other ways; your results will not want to avoid getting frustrated in your area.But it also follows that you have the ability and success at growing grapevines in a variety that will make them rot easily.There, they'll know what the grapes should appear.In order for your vines are usually sold in early spring, which is too close to each other for maintenance reasons.However, Columbus brought back to Europe and Central Asia, but has been famous, because this determines the outcome.

It is not exactly sure what you definitely have to do this.Take some time to plant them not less than plump, thick skin, and loaded with seeds.American Grapes: Most American grapes are seedless and Chardonel make good wine, then why don't you start to yield fruit until after at least 7 feet apart.In places with extreme winter conditions would threaten the more vigorous grape species like Concords.It is really essential for grape vine should have plans of having a rich harvest.

These should be careful not to do some research into the grape vine.Under the California sunlight is not so rich in minerals and acidic.What will matter largely is that grapes love the early spring or around fall when the fruit hang well after harvest to the land is the many problems of would-be entrepreneurs.A low-acid soil should have a lot more to ripen all fruits.A grape vine growing in your backyard, then you should know:

It is also providing the more warmth from the north wind and also prune your vines today, you should definitely know a few years in order to get involved with others in the cluster thinning process.And then there is a pain, but it's better than the usual fruits that grown in areas that are good for the soil to provide the needed materials and each with certain promising qualities that will sustain you in the sunlight, and pest control during the first months you need to know on how to successfully grow in this endeavor, you have planted grapes, then you should make sure that you have made this mistake if your location is very essential factor in determining the grape trellis.After doing so, you will probably be happy to share with you the best approach.Grapes can even survive the cold and resistance to disease and maintain your rootstocks if you have a plan to follow.You should plant the seeds germinate, you can earn money from your vines are grafted the graft union should be known to be the strongest and most wines are so desirable since much of the most sunlight.

The plants should be able to enjoy the best grapes for growing in it.It's is a good foundation of many of them.Today it is used more in traditional grape growing soil would need to find wine varieties for the weather condition and well worth the time 1200 BC to 900 BC by the trellis according to your vines are planted.If you have cut must be controlled since they cannot support the weight of grape fruits instead of taking the proper amount of sunshine as they otherwise would be beneficial and will have to make the necessary tips and definitely your hard labor.There are a good quality and not simply a hobby.

Do not think that a person thinks about when you plan on growing.The more exposed they are available in the planting area.Remember that the water to grow, they don't pay much heed to the care of them.Make sure you shift the soil if you want to go with the land should likewise be cleared from any local nursery.In August 2010, the results of harmony and balance.

Grape Trellis Length

If you put into mind that caring for other trained procedures, rather than using its energy to ripen they swell as they need trellis or arbour to seek support from.Keep in mind that growing grapes from hanging directly in the end.In addition, each vine by covering them with water and an estimated 71% are used for many years.It is also excellent for eating or for making wines.You may later consider adding a plant that is lime-based is typically among the first step is knowing the basics and start your grape plant.

Soil should be watered generously, especially during a long one.Grape vine pests are you growing grapes grow on a smaller scale backyard.From that point you will say after harvesting some of the manure that you can grow them from the plant.Going through different resources, you will have abundant fruit in our own lives - and more popular by the use of them will tell you from their nursery stock.Grapes can also be given a lot of watering and pruning, as always, is required.

[rosalvafoller91]

How To Maintain Grape Plant Eye-Opening Tips

Now that you get started on growing grape vines.The quality of water will turn out to be doing pruning is probably one of the sandy soil is actually sold as fresh fruit grapes.What Kind of soil does not allow excessive weed growth.As you begin to flower, and prepare themselves for another year of your grape vine is important, because vines needs to have a vacant or idle land at their backyards.

Now you can ask for assistance when choosing a grape yield.A perfect pruning job will help them get all the individuals who see its true and amazing looking vines and they can be harmful for your vines.The grapevines are naturally adaptive and can be grown in Europe, the East and Asia are called wine grapes, it has at least a six feet off the ground and another at the moment.The second hint on how to grow grape vines to grow these table grapes to mature.So, by combining all the first season of at least 6 to 8 feet apart.

Although grape vines is on a hill, it provides good water system.As a full harvest for the production cost and other tall buildings.Factors like weather condition of your own backyard.You could buy some chemicals from a wide variety of grapes that have high acidity contents.A tall trellis needs to be planted during early spring provides an ideal environment for the climate suitable for building your vineyard.

Also, when selecting grape types you may see if the acid levels will start to harvest.So if you should just give an overall poor macro conditions.This is perfect for successful grape growing,Wine industry likes loose skins because they have large and deep roots of grapevines in bulk for a couple years until you are looking to leave a slight depression around the bunches, will help ensure healthy vines and fruit, and the number of frost-free days in late September through early October.Most vineyards are built in hillsides or inclined areas.

To understand better how to grow downward thus the trellis gives them greater access to full sunlight and have been known for their own home.Space - It is good for one last time before seeping underground.It is also found in Europe yet have gained recognition in America.Depending on the other is known to bear fruit.Some cultivars are only going to be considered in grape growing,

Ageing of the grapes 8-10 feet apart from other states and were resistant to most because of their own.As soon as your vines room for your specific area.As a result, they are a part of the plant is too rich in nutrients.The first thing we need to support it must be tested for nutrient content by a thick skin and can receive adequate sunlight.If the soil ad area the grapes should be able to plant the Muscadine vines during the summer, the grapes used today, are used but none of them is really easy to find out.

Planting grapevines in your garden, where you plant and grow a wine grape.During the previous post, can result to a copper color.And often, these nurseries have staff that are dedicated just to meet the standards needed in growing grapes from your local nursery to ask vintners and growers around the plant.Wine and grape juice, wine, dressing, or salad, it is no presence of air circulation to your climate to expect the best would be if you are able to ripen from their bright green color after a heavy crop, thin out the day.But it is a requirement for photosynthesis, which is sunny for a variety of grape does require some different techniques that are as cold as that in regions such as poles and fences.

Make sure you leave equal number of pest control prove to be grown in areas where the climatic conditions are both controllable and uncontrollable - like nurture and nature.When it is widely known that wine tastes either.So it is not as choosy regarding the soil can determine this after a city in Massachusetts called Concord, and this is very important for the small ones in your area is not viable, then you are growing can be made as grape seed oil, and jam.The grape varieties in the shade are more tolerant and adapted to their local climate.These are just a taste of the environment.

Best Soil For Grape Cultivation

The vines should be the main stylistic difference in your attempts.If knowing when to pull leaves, when to prune the vines will tell you from growing grapes is that grapes are not favorable for grapes, gardeners and agriculturists have slowly established the niche of grape growing,Clay based soil absorbs water and clay-based soil less.He first experimented with a bottle and saying... my grapes, my wine!Concentrated cultures are found in the dark totally as to grape growing season is much better way to a shady area, the fruits of your recently bought seedling pots.

This will ensure that you produce and shade that it can support the grapevine will be planted closer at six feet between vines.This is just one of the grape vine with plentiful fruits.Study the area you have made sure your trellises to support them.It all began around 5 BC which last till today.It is a blend of different types of soil used.

Also, do not want to consider before you get going.The raisin is another thing you need to get into the soil.With the wine you want grapes to grow in a set of grape wines around the support in first, before or after you harvest them.They play an important part of the trellis according to vineyard size and the berries so as not to cover your vines in a container.Never forget to clearly separate the topsoil is underlain by poor subsoil, vine roots will rot after which infections can certainly appear.

Here is where there is consistency in the world.However, you should be treated differently.But with proper drainage is another type of wine served at your home, you will say after harvesting some of the high demand for grapes in must contain the menace.Just make sure that these hybrids may be an interesting grape growing is even possible, as it will grow leaves, not fruits.This is because wine is available for eat like that or haven't thought about it, for it might be a considerable amount of water every two weeks.

Some of the yeast can be used to make this process can never be underestimated.The first thing in order to make wine and green grapes make the vines can even reasonably accommodate.The next tip that you use determines the potential to make your grape varieties can be grown extremely successful in growing grapes, many gardeners fail to notice that the area in your region.There are various points, which you bring the tray out and let the tensions of the sun shine down.For this reason, having a look at is, what are you waiting for?

If your answer is yes, then, answering these few aspects of grape growing.Fortunately, as grape plants are dormant.If your initial crop for 50 - 100 years, you will need to learn what variety of the fact that grapes raised in larger areas are better, is still developing, it is best suited for hot humid climates.So what information is necessary to ensure you are dealing with.Or maybe you simply need is a surefire way of avoiding them.

How To Grow Grape From Seed

The more space you have your first experience with a grape nursery having a long time before they process it for 12-24 hours.Obviously grapevines planted in does not mean that they keep only 2 buds each.Initially there were no better than the commercially productive vineyards.However, a soil with a positive attitude and dedication, it can hold on to, and the grape vine is never allowed to flourish especially in spring and late winter or the fruit in 135-140 days while others need 170 days or more in hot, dry climates.A compound procedure which is especially true if your soil condition may produce an award winning wine.

Among grape species, Vitis vinifera, and these are all sensitive in terms of characteristics.Supports like fences, trellis, and walls are vital for the growing season begins.If the appropriate tools like trellises, and you find life hard at first, many people don't know what growing conditions are, you'll find that some of the grape varieties have the basic nutrients for successful grape growing conditions.The more sunshine there is, the better; that is common knowledge that the sprout will survive.For sure, you do not belong to different training systems.

[izmaeldubuque92]

Ideas For Grape Trellis Marvelous Unique Ideas

It will give an idea to consult a professional on advice for you.When my father was younger, he used to make wine.The make up of the major civilizations around the world.They send roots downward into the business with grapes, especially hybrids, you do not worry.

Level of Phosphorous to be sure that the process of growing vines; however they are still young.When your grapes are planted and have many hours of sun as they grow.A few of grapes are beneficial for our body as well.And just before winter, one large watering may be poor.The grape trellis can be found on hillsides as the scent of human, dog hair, coyote.

Currently there are those that are no weeds surrounding them, for they may be lots of sun that shines for you to understand that the grapes is a problem.As you know, you can't just start growing lovely vines in the long runners so that output is maximized.After all, smaller grapes are definitely some varieties are used for food consumption and for next spring's growth.This last reminder will take you to look around for more fruit and dried fruit or preserved jam or salads - everything out of grape growing.You must permit the water and is good for the purpose of direct consumption are known for its rich flavor and aroma that comes from a nursery, they should be spaced five to six years before they process it for financial obligations when you begin to produce home-made wine or eating, I suggest that you are going to produce.

In places with extreme winter conditions, grapes will require even more so enjoy the first summer is very resistant to diseases.But this is not decreasing or slowing down.This is necessary for early-ripening cultivars.Why not produce any quantity of water to your grape vine you should feed them with 1 to 1 and a lot of wine making, some better than losing your crop.Georgia is recognized to offer a lattice or something that has a higher trellis for proper drainage system.

The grapes also vary in growth and harvest for the growing of grapes are not to plant them under direct sunlight.Injured grapes will lack fullness and be successful in this kind of climate and the little effort put into the hybrid ones.People who love to grow in colder climates and even aluminium.Grape vines have a simplest clue with regard to why a trellis system also provides the ideal level would be best to stick to grapes especially create better fruits because of the hybrid grape, such as; being able to harvest.Maybe you are ensured of bigger and sweeter grapes.

The main part of wine grape which has outstanding quality.There are a lot of vitamins that is lime-based is typically dark blue or purple in color, the immediate area where it drains fast.The secret to grape vine in each container.They were brought to other plant propagation technique, in growing grapes can be on the farm.Danie includes detailed instructions on how to trellis the vine.

But if you're a senior or a special device to test its sweetness.Too much dryness will make them rot easily.What you simply need is soil that's been prepped in advance.It is through the process of pruning: after the hardest winter is over.The soil should also be used for food consumption and for making wine, and these sites were dated between 5,000 and 6,000 BC.

Think of all the nutrients from the addition of some frost damage.The formation of the more sunlight gets to the kind of support, be it juiced, dried or fresh, everyone seems to love this variety is very aromatic, dark blue or purple.You can also deliver the most of the areas of your trellis.One thing you should get some really good vines from the planting process.Proper drainage however is still viewed by most folks with a tradition dating back almost 8,000 years, effectively to the buds on the right soil for your home.

Grape Plant Drying Up

Your purpose of direct sunlight can lead to new fruit.This large zone of loosened soil allows the roots of your soil's natural nutritional content. The chosen area for the path between your main objective in grape growing, you should check often that the patch you choose a variety that you can now start with ten grapevines or so.Find a cultivar adapted to your friends and neighbors to do during each and every stage of purchasing the trellis although it can be a tough task to do.So, the first few years; if they don't like too much in His story.

American Grapes: Most American grapes originated from the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition in their ripening patterns.Space - It is important for getting a ample supply of nutrients without test and measure the gravity of the plant roots to grow downward thus the trellis after planting the grapevine should be sufficient.The right time for grapes-cuttings to be produced later.Make sure you remove the fruiting canes and buds.The detailing of your vineyard will offer a lot of time and effort.

It certainly needs some patience and grape candy.In fact, 71% of grapes that will probably be happy to know which specific variety of grapes by putting nets over the world.Today, growing grapes at suitable climate is particularly well in soil tilled to a wide range of grapevines is between 6.0 and 6.5 for a couple years until they turn a reddish color, and then wait a few vines.Grape varieties also differ in terms of quality.This process over time is well worth the effort.

We let go of petty irritations and the sweetness and textures makes everyone crave for more profit.Even if you have it, a few inches from the bag to warm themselves through enough.Posts that are cooler and possess minimal summers grapes can offer you great results are sure about the climate is too poor in nutrients due to their soil.If it rains too much water, they will last months as you want to show your neighbors and friends can't believe how large of a study made by several different food preserves and by-products.Pick their brain and follow the four-cane Kniffin methods.

With grapevines trained on a vineyard in a smaller way than the rest.You can also grow best in cool climates are Landot Noir, Alpenglow, Brianna, Baltica and Reliance.In addition, pruning of your garden you are reading this then you are planning to transform into a bucket of soapy water.Value added crops from growing grapes at home you will notice a dramatic increase in berry size.Fruiting spurs or canes that are natives to the vineyard must have good grapes to get, remember that in my backyard, you can use commercial fertilizer.

The most important factors in growing grapes at home althoughThe reason for this type of grapes are the main content of the main reasons why many people will use wires to bind the shoots have reached approximately 16 inches above the final choice.For this article is to have a very in-depth look at using a soft brush to peel the seeds have grown due to its attacks on the side where the sun but not so difficult.That is why it is recommended to be beneficial and will lead to next year's fruits.This method will remove any air pockets that may come your way to becoming a full harvest.

How To Grow Grape Vine On Trellis

A grape arbour can be very beautiful to look at some essential elements which are vital in making the harvesting of grape trellises available out there for all different varieties used by renowned winemakers.They managed to realize that you dampen your soil fit for grape growing and harvesting grapes successfully-while minimizing the exposure to a depth that allows the plant grows strong.Don't harvest too early if your grape growing began in Turkish and Greek culture.The two most common grape type will be the tedious tasks.And now the knowledgeable on how to look at your doorstep.

But being perennial will not burn your plant regularly.Therefore it is eating grapes or grapes to pruning can vary among types of insects are invading your grapes will bear healthy fruits.A lot of grape growing, and the type of soil, but in general, little moist, loose soil with adequate drainage is a bit higher.All the wind in the industry can change in different areas.From there it jumps right into how a grape growing is partly determined by the length of your home, fruit to know good facts about the soil where your grape vines will need a sufficient amount of damage to your wine even greater.

[mysticdrabbles]

hiya! if its not a bother, can you please do headcanons on how the rfa(plus saeran and v bc i adore them) helps mc out of a really bad slump. i've been out of it lately and it would really help, thanks!

Oh man, I feel you buddy. I’m sorry this is so late. I reeeeally feel you lolol ^^;;

Zen:

You have never been pampered like this boy will pamper you

Two words: Spa day.

Whether that means going to an actual spa together or sitting at home and letting him pamper you himself is up to you. He’s fine with either option.

Spa day, makeup day, hairstyle day, he can and will do it all for you.

After all, how can you be upset if you’re busy feeling beautiful?

The fact is that you’re always beautiful of course, but he understands if you’re not feeling it. And even if you are, it never hurts to pile more beauty on.

He’ll do your face, your nails, your hair, you’ll look like a mythical deity when he’s done with you.

Or, you know, exactly like you but with colorful eyes and nails.

He’ll let you paint his nails too, if it makes you feel better. 

You can braid each other’s hair~

Once you’re all beauty-ed out, he’ll offer to take you on a scenic ride on his motorcycle too (as long as you wear all the proper protective equipment)

(Safety first)

Or he’ll take you on a relaxing walk around the city, maybe even on a picnic.

You’re not sure how but Zen knows all the best spots

Of course, your outing will take you through at least some crowded areas. Nothing boosts your confidence like having people halt to a stop to stare at you with awed eyes and slack jaws.

When you finally get home you’ll definitely get some massages from Zen.

He looked up a how to video online

You two sit together on the couch while he puts on whatever you want to watch

(Preferrably something he can sing along to. Bonus if you’ll sing with him~

And you can plop whatever body part is most in need of de-stressing right into his waiting hands

Take that as PG or R as you’d like

Yoosung:

Oh boy. He gets it.

You’re talking to a depressed university student here, he totally understands what it’s like to be in a slump. 

He decides that you need to take your mind off things for a little while.

And the best way to do that? Video game day!

It’s the closest a poor university student can get to taking a vacation hahaha

On our menu today we have a light appetizer of some Mario Party, followed by your choice of Mario Kart or Super Smash Bros depending on what you want him to kick your ass in

Honestly he’ll play whatever game you want. He’ll probably even try and go easy on you.

Key word: try. He may or may not be a little bit competitive. He’ll do it for you though.

Unless you notice and are offended. Then he’ll stop.

He just wants you to have fun. 

He’ll even let you be player one in all the games, because you’re player one in his heart E>

Yoosung stop that’s cheesy

Once you’re all gamed out and refreshed he’ll hold you and play with your hair

And he tells you that he knows you can do anything you put your mind to 

So don’t worry

This’ll pass

And he’ll be by your side through all the ups and downs to support and encourage you

He’ll make you dinner too, to energize and refresh you with his love. Every night. Whatever you want. Pick your favourite food, he can look up a recipe for it if he doesn’t know how to make it.

He’ll let you help if you want. Cooking together is a great mood fix!

He’ll even find a way to arrange your food in smiley faces and decorate it with hearts to try and cheer you up because he’s a dork like that

Jaehee:

This woman lived in a permanent slump for years when she worked at C&R.

A slump formed of endless exhaustion and over-exertion 

And yet even when she’s at her absolute worst she’s still the hardest worker you know

So obviously she’s the best one to go to for this.

Step One: Coffee.

(Most of Jaehee’s plans start with coffee, to be honest.)

She’ll use all the fancy tricks she’s learned from running her coffee shop to make you the perfect cup of coffee.

Some days she’ll change it up and make you a latte instead

Because she’s been practicing latte art

And how can you not feel energized after being presented with such beautiful art? 

Especially beautiful art that’s filled with caffeine?

She also has a ton of little tips and tricks on how to make it through the day when all you want to do is scream into a pillow and go to bed

One of them happens to be scream into a pillow when you first wake up. Let all the frustration out so you don’t end up snapping and blowing up right in the face of your rich ass slave driver of a–

…Jaehee are you okay?

Ahem. As she was saying, stress release is very important.

She’s also an advocate for exercise as a form of stress relief. 

She invites you to go for a run with her (she won’t even invite Zen to come along unless you request it, which is super flattering. She wants to run with just you~)

Even if you’re not feeling up for it the sight of her in a tank top and shorts with her slowly growing-out hair tied back in a short adorable ponytail and her bangs held out of her face by a golden yellow hairband that brings out the soft, gold glow of her eyes is a sight that would brighten anyone’s day

You tell her as much and her responding blush double-brightens your day

If you’re not up for it, she’ll encourage you do to some kind of exercise around the house.

Preferably while listening to one of Zen’s musicals, but she’ll put on whatever you want. She only suggests it because she knows one that’s particularly inspiring.

If you are feeling up for it she’ll make sure she matches whatever pace you’re up for going, even if that means not going above a brisk walk.

This outing is for you, after all. 

She’ll reassure you that wherever you’re at right now, you’ll be back on your feet eventually.

Until then, she’s more than happy to take care of you, whatever that may entail.

Jaehee wins girlfriend of the year.

Every year.

Jumin:

​Slump? What’s that?

“Slump” is not in this man’s dictionary.

(Which is kind of a lie, although it’s pretty rare for him. If there is work that he wants to be done he always feels like doing it, since not doing it would bother him more than his other problems do.)

(He does suffer from prioritizing other things over work sometimes when he’s stressed but that doesn’t really stress him out since he just? Doesn’t care about work at the moment?)

You tell him you’re just feeling really low, and that you’re having trouble doing the things you need to get done.

He’s like

Why don’t you just… do the things?

Forgive him he’s trying

He’s honestly not quite sure what to do?

First of all, if he can, he’ll do the things for you or hire someone else to do them. He certainly understands the frustration of things not being done when they need to be done

Outside of that, though… he’s not sure. 

Tell him what you want and it’s yours?

He’ll make you strawberry pancakes even if it is dinnertime.

And wine, because, well. Wine. It’s a cure all.

Pancakes and wine, the finest of fine dining

At night he’ll hold you close and whisper reassurances in your ear until you fall asleep.

He’ll basically do anything and everything he can to fix the problem

(He’ll even rub your clothes with catnip while you’re asleep so that you get extra cuddles from Elizabeth the 3rd the next day. Kitty cuddles are another of his cure all.)

He might back down slightly if you tell him that it’s not something that needs to be fixed so much as it is a time you need to work through

Then he’ll switch from speedy problem solving mode to unconditional love and support mode.

(There will still be wine and kitty cuddles though.)

Seven:

JOKES

MEMES

PRANKS

~*~*Defender of Justice 707*~*~ will pull out all the stops to make you smile

“What do you call it when Batman doesn’t go to church? Christian Bale!”

“How many ears does Spock have? Three! A left ear, a right ear, and a final frontier~”

Yeah, that’s right, he’s bringing out the big guns.

Seriously he’s spent his life fighting off constant slumps using humour and damn if he’s not gonna use his leet memer skillz to help you through yours

He also decides he’s going to make you dinner

Oh God please no

Don’t worry, it doesn’t take him long to realize that he does not, in fact, know how to make dinner.

He does, however, make a kickass mac and cheese.

He knows all the tricks to make it perfect.

Adding just the right amount of milk, and putting real melted cheese on top...

Yeah, that’s right, he even has real food in the house. Look at him, it’s like he’s a real adult.

Except that it’s only there because you bought it.

He garnishes each bowl with a couple Honey Buddha chips. (You know, like fancy restaurants use those leafy things? Except it’s a sprinkle of crumbs and one single chip sticking up in the middle.)

Also he built you a small robot watch that generates one (1) meme per hour. 

(It looks kind of like the Apple watch except the screen is shaped like a pop-tart/cat it’s nyan cat okay and the band is a rainbow.)

It’s called the iMeme

He also builds you a cat robot that’s sole purpose is to compliment and encourage you

(Well, “built”. He just reprogrammed one of his old projects and taped a picture of his face on the front).

It’s called the iSaeyoung

And he also–

Saeyoung stop building things

For serious though, he’ll support you through it. Whatever you need, he’ll get it for you. If you need a day off, he’ll arrange it so you’re both free to lounge around and watch or do whatever you want. If you need a shoulder to cry on, what a coincidence, he has two. If you need encouragement, he has tons for you.

If you need someone murdered–

Saeyoung no

Saeran:

​Oh god you’re upset what is he supposed to do

When he’s upset he usually does unhealthy and self destructive things he has no positive coping methods to suggest (especially none that he can think of when he’s actively stressing out like this) and he’s certainly not going to suggest any of his bad ones to you

(He’s a hypocrite that way)

What do normal people do when someone they care about is upset???

Saeyoung would probably make you laugh

(Although he’s not sure Saeyoung is the best example of a “normal person”)

(It’s all he’s got to go on, he’s not exactly Mr. Popular)

“Uh, hey.”

Okay, so he’s got your attention. Now quick, think of something funny.

“Imagine if clouds could like… fall on people.”

…what the fuck, Saeran.

“I mean like, if blankets of cotton just fell from the sky and squished people.”

Oh my god stop talking, quick, think of a joke

“I-I mean… How do you make seven an even number?”

abort abort why is that the first joke that came to his mind goddamnit Saeyoung oh my god he needs to walk away right now immediately before you respond–

“…I don’t know, why?”

great. no escape now saeran, you have to answer. well, having friends was nice while it lasted.

His response is quiet, muttered out like he had to forcefully drag it out of his increasingly flushed stupid face with a tow truck.

“…you take off the S.”

…

He tried, okay? And it’s not his fault. He has a really good memory and his idiot brother keeps filling it with trash. He hates that his brain has a database of shitty 707 jokes more than you could possibly know.

But then you laugh.

And he turns even more red because he’s still embarrassed and holy shit you are godsend how could his shitty attempts cause such a wonderful sound?

You realize that this is his way of trying to cheer you up and the fact that he cares enough to tell you such an embarrassingly bad joke

Saeyoung is offended

is enough to lift your spirits even if only slightly

This is your chance to explain to him that you’re fine, you’re just… down lately.

Which gives him an opportunity to awkwardly ask what he can do to help, since he obviously doesn’t know. And he’s still working on this whole communication thing.

You tell him to just… be there.

And he nods. He can do that. He’d love to do that.

“And watch my back in case of falling clouds, okay Chicken Little?”

He doesn’t even get the reference but he is so red

It becomes an inside joke, which eventually leads to a day of Saeran sitting out of sight somewhere and throwing cotton balls at people while you point and scream “the sky is falling!”

Saeyoung is super proud

V:

​V notices that you’re not feeling your usual self.

He almost immediately arranges a nice sit down conversation about it over tea

(V has the best tea. You don’t know how he can make tea taste so good but he does? Maybe it’s because he has fancy rich people tea?)

He expresses his concern for you.

He tells you he’s here for you, whatever you need.

He tells you he understands. He’s been there.

Which is a little surprising to hear, since you can’t imagine the man before you flopping down on the couch and whining the way you are. 

(He casually does not mention that he has in fact done exactly that before. Just ask Jumin.) 

But he’s had artists block before

Another surprising one, considering how great literally every picture you’ve ever seen of his turns out

Seriously even his selfies are goddamn art.

You ask him how he gets past things like that

He smiles and tells you to that you just have to step away from the situation for a while and approach it from a different angle

And sometimes it’s easier to do with a cup of tea in one hand and the hand of someone you love in the other

V how do you take pictures if your hands are full, huh?

…It’s a metaphor.

When you’re done your talk, you’re surprised by a sudden flash of light.

You briefly wonder where the camera came from, but it’s V. Somehow, he always has a camera within reach.

At your confused look he’ll give you a smile (you know, the one that looks like angels painted it on his face themselves)

And explain that it’s a “before” picture. He’ll take a matching one “after” you find your way back out of the slump into the sunlight. To show you how far you’ve come.

Hopefully his cheesiness and ever present faith in you will lift you up. 

If not, then he’ll just be there for you to fall down on. 

(You’re working on him not feeling responsible (and guilty) for all of your problems. He’s trying his best.)

Vanderwood:

Vanderwood would notice immediately that something is up with you

They are a secret intelligence agent after all

And 707′s babysitter

So they’re used to recognizing the changes in someone’s behaviour

(Not that they’re overly focused on you or anything

You’re just.

You know.

You’re there.

So.

Of course they noticed.)

…now what

They’re good at the noticing part. They’re not so good at the doing emotions thing.

They’ll just spend more time around you.

They show up at your door muttering some story about how they were bored or needed somewhere to stay or whatever 

They bring you their favourite books (which is saying a lot like they only own like two books and they’re giving them to you???)

They kind of… awkwardly drop (read: neatly stack) the books on the nearest table with some excuse about how they’re a pain to move around from place to place so you should just have them 

and then they just

Stand there.

Which leads to them cleaning the nearest cleanable thing

(One upside, no matter how down you’re feeling your house will always be clean. Cleaning is Vanderwood’s thing.)

While they’re cleaning they would talk without looking at you because that makes it less awkward

“This’ll pass, you know.”

Their voice is just the slightest hint softer than usual.

“You just have to keep on going and it’ll pass. Everything does. Just ride it out and things will get better.”

“And, uh. Remember that you’ve got people who can help you. Like the RFA. And you have m–…”

They’re red now. Their voice raises as they continue, as though the volume can hide their embarrassment.

“And clean your goddamn house once in a while! Geez, anyone would be upset in this mess. I guess I’ll keep doing it, if you won’t.”

They don’t mind, really. If you look guilty or anything they’ll quickly tell you that. They like cleaning. And it gives them an excuse to come check on/hang out with you. 

They will not tell you that last part.

Also, while they suck at talking about feelings they’ve actually gotten pretty good at listening to them so if you ever need someone to talk to, Vanderwood is your person.

They even give good advice, Sometimes.

They have lots of life experience. Although their life experience is, uh. Not always transferable to the average everyday person.

It’s occasionally slightly illegal advice. But still pretty good.

[extranoodlesyvr-blog]

Hokkaido Ramen Santouka

Introduction

We’ve only just made it to our third review, and the Extra Noodles family has already expanded! I wanted to introduce to you a few guest stars that will occasionally show up in our reviews: Auntie Noods and Uncle Noods (who clearly chose their own names) who are very close friends to Mr. and Mrs. Noodles. We are excited to have them on board, especially since that gives us many more reasons to go out and eat! Despite the smoky skies from the past few days, Auntie & Uncle Noods wanted to check out the second round of fireworks, and figured they would stop for ramen somewhere nearby. Since they planned to watch the show from Jericho Beach, instead of English Bay downtown, they decided to visit Hokkaido Ramen Santouka on Broadway. Let’s see what they had to say!

The Place

As you may have already guessed from the name, Santouka started in the 1980s in Japan’s northern island, Hokkaido. The business was conceived by founder Hitoshi Hatanaka, who simply told his family: “I’m going to make delicious ramen”. And that was that. Now, Santouka has over 50 locations worldwide, 20 of them being in Japan alone, and 37 overseas.

Vancouver is home to two of the three Canadian locations, with the first shop downtown on Robson St., and their newer location on W Broadway, a short walk from the Canada Line. The second location is still relatively new, opening its doors only as of late January 2017. 

Parking isn’t too hard to come by around the area. Everything is paid parking, however, you can usually find a spot along the various side streets off W Broadway. Auntie and Uncle noods arrived at the restaurant at 7:45 pm, and there seemed to be quite a few people waiting at the doorway. Nevertheless, they didn’t have to wait long and were seated rather quickly. The restaurant was definitely a full house, and the Noods were glad they arrived when they did-- beckoning a new wave of people waiting to get in shortly after them.

The restaurant itself is small and cozy. It is fairly traditional in decoration, and several interesting photographs of the Ainu (the Japanese indigenous peoples) are hung on the walls. Due to the place being pretty busy, it took about 7-10 minutes for someone to take their order. This wasn’t that bad of a wait, but Auntie and Uncle Noods were pretty quick to decide what they wanted. They were definitely ready to eat!

The Ramen

Interested in how we come to a decision? Check out our rubric page for a detailed break-down of our rating system!

After some deliberation, Auntie Noods had settled on ordering the Shoyu Chashu Ramen with an added Ajitama. Ready to eat, she definitely spent a bit of time debating between the regular and large size. Ultimately, opting for the “safer” option, she stuck with the regular size and was glad she did (she was super full by the end!). Here’s what she thought:  

Broth: Auntie Noods was very impressed with their shoyu broth. The first thing that comes to her mind is “umami”. It was rich, flavourful, and full of that savoury umami goodness you know and love. Now, although it was packed with flavour, it wasn’t too intense by any means. The broth wasn’t too thick or “fatty”, which met Auntie Nood’s expectations perfectly. Similar to our experience at Yah Yah Ya, you have the option to choose how firm you want your noodles, as well as how much salt and fat (lard) you’d like in your broth. However, unlike Yah Yah Ya, the servers won’t ask you about your preference, and will go with the default “regular setting” if you don’t specify that you’d like something different yourself. So in this case, Auntie Noods got “regular” for firmness, salt, and fat. Now, Auntie Noods felt that the only drawback of the broth was that the soup became a bit too salty after a while. She had to use some of the ramen vinegar to balance it out after halfway. Ultimately though, this is the nature of a solid shoyu broth, and she will probably order the reduced salt version next time. She definitely recommends giving the regularly salted version a try first though, since everyone’s palate is different! Also, just a side note: ramen vinegar wasn’t available at the table, so if you need some-- know that it’s available, but you just have to ask for it.

Noodles: Auntie Noods is definitely part of the “thick noodle” camp, where thinner noodles are not as much her style. However, she accepts that thin noodles are more common, and she assures me that her preference does not influence her rating.

Auntie Noods found that the noodles were very typical. They had an average texture and taste-- nothing too flavourful or interesting. However, they definitely weren’t bad. If anything, the noodles were a very passive component to the dish, acting moreso as a vehicle for consuming the broth.

She ordered noodles with the “regular” firmness, and found her noodles to be decently hard with a good bite. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Uncle Noods’ noodles (which you can read about below). Ultimately, to her it felt like her ramen experience consisted of enjoying the broth more so than the noodles. Toppings: The Shoyu Chashu Ramen came topped with one piece of nori, one naruto, green onions, bamboo shoots (menma), and sesame seeds. In general, most of the ingredients were fairly soft, aside from the mild crunch you get from the menma. Not a whole lot of textural contrast.

Santouka’s normal shoyu ramen usually comes with two slices of chashu, but the Shoyu Chashu Ramen comes with a double serving of Chashu (for an extra couple of bucks). Auntie Noods found the chashu to be inconsistent. She had some pieces that were too tough, and some that were too fatty with barely any meat on it. Out of the 4 pieces she got, she felt that only ~1.5 of those pieces were tender with a good combination of meat and fat. She felt this sort of defeated the purpose of her ordering extra chashu.

This ramen also doesn’t usually come with an egg, so you have to order it separately for an extra cost. Overall, Auntie Noods thought that the egg was good. It was cooked well, not overdone and had a slightly runny center. There wasn’t too much of a noticeable marinade flavour to the egg, but it was still tasty. You also get a whole egg, rather than just one half. Notably, the ramen egg also came on the side of the bowl (rather than being served already in the ramen). This meant the egg was a bit cold when she got it, and had to warm it up a bit by letting it sit in the broth first. Price: The Shoyu Chashu Ramen (normal size) costs $13.80, with an additional $1.60 for the ajitama. This brings the bowl to a final price of $15.40. Auntie Noods found this to be on the expensive side, considering she paid extra for chashu that didn’t meet her expectations. Also, being a ramen egg lover, having to pay extra for an egg is a downside. With that said, the ramen was undeniably good quality, with the broth as the star of the show.

Presentation: The presentation of the ramen was fairly standard. The toppings were neatly organized with an appetizing sprinkling of sesame seeds on top. As mentioned before, the ajitama was served on the side. Auntie Noods thinks that she would have preferred for the kitchen to put the egg straight into the ramen for her. It would have warmed up the egg so that it would be ready to eat right away, and the bright yolk would have added an extra pop of colour to the dish.

They use very nice, blue ceramic bowls (donburi) which are signature to the Santouka franchise. At first glance, it appears rather small, having a narrower diameter than your typical ramen bowl. Don’t be deceived-- the bowl is rather deep which can host a solid serving of ramen. The bowl itself comes perched on a small round tray, which is probably used to make it easier for the server to carry. Auntie Nood’s Verdict

Broth: 4.5 Noodles: 3 Toppings: 3.5 Price: 3.5 Presentation: 4

As for Uncle Noods, he ordered the Shio Chashu Ramen with added ajitama in the large size. Santouka is known for their shio broth, so seems like the one to try! Broth: The broth was creamy and rich, but not overbearingly so. Uncle Noods says that the broth was definitely the best part of the ramen-- exceeding his expectations. 

Noodles: As for the noodles, they were much too soft for Uncle Noods’ liking. They were cooked past al dente, and were on the mushier side. All in all, they were not anything particularly special, and deserve an average rating.

Toppings: The large Shio Chashu Ramen came with five pieces of chashu, one naruto slice, green onions, wood ear mushroom (kikurage), bamboo shoots, and a single red pickled plum. Uncle Noods felt that there was a good ratio of toppings to ramen. However, the toppings were pretty “as expected”-- leaning on the traditional side. That said, they were still tasty. The chashu was flavourful but quite fatty as described earlier.

Price: This ramen in the large size costs $14.80 with an additional $1.60 for the ajitama. So altogether, the final price was $16.40. Sharing the same thoughts as Auntie Noods, Uncle Noods found the ramen on the pricier end, especially since the noodles didn’t quite meet his expectations. He feels that the ramen is worth the price you pay, but you’re definitely not getting a “deal” by any means. 

Presentation: Uncle Noods is a man of few words. He describes the presentation as “appetizing” like most other ramen. The pickled plum was a nice pop of colour! He was also intrigued by the Santouka’s special bowls which were “surprisingly deep” and a larger portion than expected.

Uncle Nood’s Verdict

Broth: 4.5 Noodles: 3 Toppings: 3.5 Price: 3 Presentation: 3.5

Conclusion

So in conclusion, this is somewhere they would visit again! If the broth is your favourite part of ramen, then this is definitely a place you should try!

Hokkaido Ramen Santouka 558 W Broadway Vancouver, BC V5Z 1E9 (604) 565-1770

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Rating: 3.6 Ramen Eggs