#i feel like it would be a nice change from memo always leaving by choice

[phiatheox]

I sort of hope that for exit interview Guillermo's leaving isn't intentional but rather he's been kidnapped, perhaps by a group of vampire slayers using him as bait to lure the others, or by the council who are going to kill him because he shouldn't exist. I hope that the interview part is him believing this is the end, and I hope the vampires come and rescue him as a reversal of the end of season 2.

[half-dead-ham]

With chaos brings Justice

My last entry for the DpxDCshipweek, sad I couldn't get through it in it entirety, but happy I made some for it at all!

links: [Ao3] Wc: 6656 Cw: implied/referenced torture

John Constantine was a man of few pleasures. He liked booze, nights with a full bed and belly, and keeping his head attached to his shoulders.

 So when he felt a surge of chaos magic flood the board room of the Justice League Watchtower one long morning into their bi-monthly meeting that for some reason he decided to show up to, he felt any chance of him recovering this day with booze or food leave the solar system entirely.

 Before the other Leaguers even felt the pressure change that came with teleporting magics John was on his feet, readying a defence spell just in case who (or what) decided to attack first, talk second. ‘Course the other gits just saw him knock back his chair with a flask of whatever he’d poured himself last night and thought for a second he was trollied.

 He always loved it when the other blokes did that. Fuckin’ hell, where was Zatanna when you needed her?

 He would’ve cracked a smile when the rest of them finally got the memo that sumthin’ foul was afoot, but John was too focused on the fact that he recognized the magic to try and play this off as anything but deadly serious. Why was he the only one here that was able to deal with this particular brand of chaos? Why couldn’t he have bloody stayed home like all the other bloody times he’d missed a meeting?

 The magic was perceptible now, a swirling red cloud hovering over the conference table like it might start raining blood, a static in the air, the smell of lamp oil and chaos magic making John's nose twitch. There wasn’t any use in trying to fool himself as a figure formed in the cloud, and any trace of those lovely effects of his bevvy of choice went straight out the airlock.

 A pale-faced child emerged from the mist, curly black hair with two styled points partially obscuring a set of beady black eyes that looked down their nose at the group surrounding the table.

 “Klarion,” the teen turned to John, expression unusually flat. The witch boy Hadn’t yet said anything, and his blasted familiar kept its place on his shoulder, hissing but not leaping into action.

 Now that John got a good look at the chaos magic user he almost wanted to look surprised. Klarion had changed his style; no longer was he dressed in puritan settler chic, now he wore dark jeans with black converse, a white t-shirt with the runic symbol for creation in red, and a black sleeveless overcoat. It looked grunge, and John could almost appreciate it.

 Almost.

 “Now what does the infamous Witch Boy need that he’s ‘ported in 'on our lovely gathering?” John asked, seeing as the teen (an’ he looked like a proper teen now, didn’ he?) wasn’t feeling especially chatty. His defensive spell was almost complete, if John could just keep the lil shit distracted for a little longer-

 “Stupid heroes, I have come because I have a task for you,” the Witch boy announced, looking like he sucked a lemon while saying it.

 John could see a few others in the room looking at each other in confusion, but he kept his eyes firm on the brat in front of him. “Oh? An’ what task would require our services, oh mighty mage?”

 The Witch Boy’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly not liking the sarcasm in his tone. Surprisingly, to him at least, Klarion turned to Superman, not falling to the taunt like he would’ve before.

 “Someone I respect has been captured by the American government, and while I would have no problem raising the place to the ground myself-” more than a few of the heroes present tense at that, “-this person would only find more trouble in me doing so.”

 Now that brought up a nice heap of questions for the surrounding men in tights. Why, or better yet how does Klarion know someone that needs help from the Justice League. Someone who he apparently respects enough to go for help from a group of stuffy adults with sticks shoved so far up their-

 "And why should we help you?" The big ol' Bat asks what's on the tip of everyone's tongues.

 Klarion turns to the Caped Crusader with the most serious expression John had ever seen on the Witch Boy. "Because the High King of the Dead needs help escaping the living, and you guys love to make sure this stupid plane of existence doesn't fall to war."

~~~~~

   "You seriously aren't helping, Witch Boy!" Danny calls out to the cackling teenager as he evades yet another tentacle from the thing coming out of the side of a large floating island. More of a mountain, really, but Danny's a little too tied up to care.

 "Hit 'em again!" The pale-faced teen on the sidelines jeered as the ghost boy shot off another volley of ectoblasts towards what he's starting to dub as a hermit-ectopus. Grimacing, Danny did just that, raining a hail of green towards the writing mass of tentacles, finally pushing the thing back in its cave enough so that he could seal the entrance with ice.

 With that out of the way, Danny could finally take a breather. He put his hands on his knees for stability as he panted, annoyed. Ancients curse that stupid Witch Boy, he may not need to breathe in this form, but that was one hell of a workout. 

 The cackling to his left was finally starting to die down, but not before he heard the idiot making his way closer. One final exhale and he straightened back up, giving the other teen a side glare Mr. Lancer would be proud of.

 "Give me one good reason I shouldn't soup you right now, cat boy," he demanded with a scowl as he crossed his arms.

 "'Cause you still need me to help you get that stupid antidote for your stupid friends!" Klarion quipped back immediately, smug smirk stuck on his face. "Besides, it's not like your weak little can'll be able to do anything to me."

 "You're the one who poisoned them in the first place," he sneered back, letting his hatred of the other boy leak out through his aura while trying not to worry himself over Sam and Tucker back home.

 Klarion got closer, smirk growing menacingly wider, "Well who was the ghost that kept ignoring me? This is your fault and you know it."

 Danny said nothing, just punched Klarion in the face before flying off into the mountain grumbling, leaving the Witch Boy to deal with the blood falling onto his tie by himself.

~~~~~

   "Constantine, what do you know about this 'High King of the Dead'?" Batman asked after pulling the mage into the hall. They had left Superman to deal with the details and negotiations. He's always been better at that.

 "Not much, Batsy," John sighed, really wishing he could pull out a smoke. If it weren't for those blasted 'no smoking' rules the furry in front of him enforced, he'd be chugging like a train right 'bout now.

 Batman simply glared at the man for a moment before John got the unsaid ‘well, get on with it’. “Alright, alright, I do know some things, but I don’t know how useful they’ll be!”

 “Explain.”

 John sighed, “Not much information about the ruling body of the dead gets through to the realm of the living, that whole ‘dead men tell no tales’ bit. What I know of a King of the dead was that he was a right bastard that wanted his cake and e’ryone else's. Got locked in some coffin or what have you by his ruling court, and hasn’t been heard from for about two millennia ‘til the new one came about.”

 “And this new king, is he anything like the last one?”

 Before John could confirm or contradict the question a sharp laugh came from the other side of the conference doors. The two detectives looked at each other before heading back in, Klarion watching from his seat on the table as they rejoined the group.

 “The new High King of the Dead is nothing like the last one,” the Witch Boy stated with a sneer.

 Batman turned to Superman, asking with a silent tilt of the head. He got a head shake and shrug in return. “We were talking about why he would need us specifically when he just started laughing.”

 “Oh?” The occult detective spoke up, “And what makes you say that? If you respect him he must be pretty similar, eh? Why do you or him need our help?”

 Klarion looked down, a pinched expression taking over his face. “He’s nothing like me. He’s good.”

~~~~~

   Wind tore through Danny’s hair as he flew up to the massive Vortex rampaging through mid- America. He could barely see five feet in front of him before a tree or the rare car nearly takes him out of the sky. Klarion’s magic could be seen on his ten o’clock, trying to stop the raging wind before it throws something at him too. Danny dove to grab onto the magic caster, turning him intangible before the broad side of a barn could crash into him.

 “What did you even do to make him this angry‽” Danny yells over the wind, pulling the concentrating Witch boy to another spot so they could be harder to hit. It doesn’t help, as half a tree still nearly decapitates them.

 “Absolutely nothing!” Klarion ground back through his teeth, “He just started chasing me through the Realms! I thought I could lose him in this plane but he just followed me!”

 Another tree sailed their way, and Danny had to drag the other teen out of its path. He shot a volley of ectoblasts at some clumps of dirt launching themselves at them, breaking them up before they were close enough to hit them.

 “How long ‘til your spell finishes‽” Danny asks, throwing more ectoblasts into the swirling vortex of carnage. The tornado consumes them greedily, returning fire with debris from an old storage barn it had picked up.

 “Not fast enough!” Klarion shouts back, now flying under his own power as the harder parts of the spell conclude.

 They weave through projectiles after that, Danny obliterating the larger objects thrown their way so Klarion could focus more on his spell. They were at least lucky enough that they had lured Vortex out to farm country, where they could easily provoke him out of the way of any towns. That left just the crops and their tools for the weather ghost to throw.

 At least, until Danny spotted some larger buildings.

 “Better speed that spell up, Witch Boy!” Danny urged, realizing they were heading towards the city, and fast.

 “I’m going as fast as I can!” Was all the other teen could retort as he ground his teeth further, doubling his efforts anyway. Red light swirled fiercely around the pale boy, encircling him and his familiar before suddenly launching outwards to wrap around the tornado. The wind picked it up easily, quickly turning the angry winds and clouds above a sickening blood red colour. A triumphant grin spreads across Klarion’s face at the turn of events, a giggle bubbling up before being stolen by the wind. Danny would almost be scared at the situation if it were him that smile was going against, but right now he was just a little relieved.

 Klarion spoke one final word to his spell, and with it the red smoke pulsed bright, lighting up the whole cloud before the funnel just disappeared, leaving some dark yet still clouds above them. Danny could only stare at the sight in awe.

 “What did you do dude?” He asked, noticing the odd change in the air around them. It was strangely still, almost-

 “I froze the air in place, of course,” Klarion huffed hotly, and Danny turned his awed gaze to the teen next to him.

 “You froze the air?” 

 “Well,” Klarion’s cheeks started to gain an almost normal complexion as his blush rose at the attention. “It’s not frozen frozen, but I made it so it wouldn’t move. So yes, I froze the air.”

 When Danny didn’t move or change his expression Klarion’s blush only grew. Teekl gave a lax “meow” from the Witch Boy’s shoulders, breaking Danny’s trance and allowing Klarion the time to unruffle his proverbial feathers. The witch Boy coughed lightly in his hand as he turned away.

 “Teekl’s right, shouldn’t you be doing your job now? I’ve done all the hard work, pick up the slack Ghost Boy.” Only his familiar saw the light green blush spread over the ghosts cheeks before he gave a nod and flew off towards where he could sense the weather spirit.

 “Meow,” Teekl commented playfully.

 Klarion blushed harder, “Oh shut up you hairball.”

~~~~~

   The Javelin was speeding into earth's atmosphere towards the Americas, half of the Leaguers who had been in the meeting previously plus one chaos mage nestled inside. They had decided an impromptu rescue mission was in order, despite some worries of the Witch Boy leading item into a trap.

 Batman remedied this by keeping Superman on standby, Shazam on call, and taking Manhunter with them to catch any lies the teen might be telling them.

 The plane was dead quiet, and it was honestly making Hal antsy, especially sitting so close to someone they consider an enemy. His solution? Small talk.

 “So,” the green lantern drawled as he swiveled his chair to face the teen. “From the way you talk about this King it sounds like you have something a little more than ‘respect’ for the guy. Care to elaborate?”

 Klarion gave the Green Lantern a long side eye, making Hal even antsier in his seat. Seriously, how can a kid this dorky be this creepy?

 A terse meow from the cat in the boy’s lap and the stare broke, and suddenly Hal felt he could breathe again. Klarion sighed heavily, like the topic exhausted him before he even started, but before Hal could rescind his words the Witch Boy was talking.

 “The King of the Dead and I have known each other for a few years now,” he started. “And while at the beginning we were basically at each other's throats, after his coronation we figured out we didn’t really want to be enemies anymore. Looking back we had probably already decided that without saying anything, but it just got awkward to think about after.”

 “This king was crowned recently?” Batman asked from his place at the wheel.

 “Within the last three years, if I remember right,” Klarion replied flippantly. The Bat nodded, taking his focus back to flying to their charted destination. Not wanting more stifling silence, Hal picked the conversation back up.

 “If you’ve known the King of the Dead for over three years you guys must be pretty close, huh?”

 The Witch Boy huffed, “Yes, you could say that.”

 “So could you maybe tell us more about him? What’s he like? Does he have a hobby? Don’t leave us hanging man!” Hal was encroaching on a jeer with his tone, though he died down quickly at the flat stare he received from both mage and familiar. If Diana hadn’t spoken up he might've been afraid of turning into a toad.

 “I am also curious, Klarion. You haven’t told us much about someone you seem to care greatly over, anything you could tell us about them would help us settle whatever dealings they have with the American government.” At the moment the princess mentioned the government Teekl was on alert, Klarion’s expression soured with the change.

 “The ‘dealings’ they have with your stupid higher powers is that they want to hunt his kind for sport and resources,” He spat, to the astonishment of the league members. Bruce and Diana shared a glance from the front seats, dread seeping into Bruce’s gut at the news.

 “Could you explain that further? We need to know if we want to fix this,” Diana asked more seriously, motioning for Hal to take her seat as copilot so she could focus more on the conversation at hand.

 (Hal was thankful for the distraction.)

 “Your government,” the teen hissed, eyes glinting dangerously red before settling back to their eerie black. “Has been trying to catch Phantom since before I met him. They’ve deemed anything that holds ectoplasm in their body as unfeeling and mindless, and deemed them worthy of extermination and experimentation.”

 “That can’t be legal, non-humans are protected under the Metahuman rights acts.” Diana comments with a frown.

 Klarion rolls his eyes at the princess, “Everyone says that when they hear it, but I assure you, Phantom has talked my ear off about the Anti-ecto acts more times than I care to count. They’re real, and heavily enforced.”

 Diana gave a sidelong glance to the front of the ship, noticing Batman already searching for these ‘acts’ while ever so slightly speeding up their flight. It was worrying that even Bruce didn’t know about this, considering his incessant need to keep up with things that could inevitably cause harm to those he wants to protect. She left that for him to deal with, refocusing the conversation back to lighter topics. “You mentioned ‘Phantom’, is this the king’s name?”

 The Witch Boy gave a small hum, hand moving to idly stroke Teekl’s fur as they settled with the change of topic. “He told me it was originally the name he chose for himself when he started protecting his little town, and by the time he was crowned the ghosts all knew him by that name and it stuck.”

 “Oh? The king is a hero?” Aside from Deadman, she had never heard of any spirits calling themselves heroes. Though it wasn’t entirely a surprise that another spirit wished to help others from beyond the grave.

 Another hum from the teen in front of her, face reading more thoughtful as he presumably went back to the first time they had met. “Yes, he was doing something incredibly stupid, though he called it ‘heroic’ at the time. I still don’t see why he needed to destroy that artifact after he rewrote reality, but then again he was still a boy when he did that.”

 …

 “Pardon?” Diana said, stunned. Klarion either didn't notice the stunned silence he had created or didn’t care as he continued.

 “After that I went to play with him every so often, sometimes playing a few pranks so he would stop ignoring me. He absolutely hated me when we first started, but I like to think I grew on him,” the Witch Boy gave a smirk at the memory, still not noticing the silence in the shuttle.

 She could feel Hal’s eyes on them, incredulity practically oozing from his seat in front of her. Instead of meeting the Green Lanterns with one that was sure to match, she looked to J’onn, who had quietly been assessing their guest the whole flight. He had his head cocked as he faced the teen, but nodded when Diana turned. The boy told no lies.

 They might need to reassess this King of the Dead’s threat level.

~~~~~

   A cacophony of cheers resound in the courtyard of Pariah’s Keep, now renamed officially to Phantom’s Fortress with the crowning of the new king. Danny peered out from beyond the curtain to the courtyard, his ascendance ceremony freshly ended and a crown of arora and ice twirling lazily over his snow white hair.

 “I still can’t believe this many ghosts want me on the throne… I thought everyone hated me with the way I chase them out of Amity all the time…” He marveled to himself, still not quite believing what just happened. He was a King now. He had people to rule. And they actually liked him.

 Though with the reputation of the last king, he supposed that a potato could’ve taken the throne and they would’ve been happy.

 “Is it that hard to believe that maybe you aren’t that hard to like?” A voice jokes from behind the new king, and turning from his peeping spot he couldn’t help the grin that spread. Klarion was standing not too far behind him, one arm behind his back in the clothes they picked out together. He looked good, like he belonged in this century now, and even with his posture radiating nervous energy, Danny could tell he was a lot more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans than that stuffy puritan suit.

 “I was thinking those odds were in-phantasmal, but I guess the chance was higher than I thought. I’m glad you could make it.” His smile grew slightly at the pink tint to the Witch Boy’s ears, but he went against the thought of pointing out how cute it was.

 Klarion scoffed, as though the notion of not coming was even something that crossed his mind. “As a lord of chaos, it would be remiss of me to not show up for the coronation of a potential fellow lord. Besides, you asked me to come specifically, it would be impolite to refuse.”

 Danny gave a snort at the response, he knew very well that if the other teen didn’t want to be here he would’ve refused the invitation outright. It was nice not having to fight the other anymore, after the battle with Vortex they started fighting less and hanging out more, Danny could even take him to the mall now without a struggle. Sure, Klarion was still trapped in the past with his underground village, but slowly he was starting to relax, have some fun that didn’t destroy everything around him.

 It was nice to hang out with someone he didn’t have to hold back with.

 “So, is there a reason you’re just standing there awkwardly?” Danny asked, letting a chuckle escape at the flat stare he received. A year ago he would’ve gotten a magic blast to the face for that.

 Instead Klarion sighed, eyes glancing around the ornate hall before sighing again. “I figured- I mean- I- ugh…” the Witch Boy kept stuttering before petering off into a grumble. Danny accidentally let another chuckle escape at how cute the other teen was being, causing said teen to glare a hole into the carpet, before letting out a growl. He stomped up to Danny, so close he had to back up a step or they would be in each other's personal space, and suddenly his vision was full of orange and purple with a spatter of red.

 Another step back put the colours in focus. A bouquet of flowers was being thrust towards him by a furiously blushing Klarion, whose eyes were currently on a rather interesting vase.

 “What are these for?” Danny asked as he relieved the bouquet from the others' vice grip.

 “For you, to congratulate you on becoming king. The orange ones are lilies, the purple flowers are irises and gerberas, and the little red ones are bloody williams. The lady at the store said they say “I’m happy for your success” in flower language.” Klarion looked like he was ready to say more, he probably had a whole speech about these, but Danny just couldn’t get over the fact that one of the biggest (previous) pains in his ass just started blushing and gave him flowers.

 “Thank you,” he said, cutting off whatever Klarion was rambling about with a genuine smile. Klarion stared for a second, before blinking and clearing his throat.

 “Of course,” he replied, blush spreading all the way down his neck.

~~~~~

   The Javelin touched down a ways off of a squat white building. It was rather nondescript, save for the perimeter fencing circling the compound lined with guards.

 “This is the place?” Batman asked tersely as they disembarked the plane. None of the armed men had seen them yet, it would give them the advantage in the infiltration.

 “I wouldn’t lie to you about something so important,” the Witch Boy replied, narrowing his eyes at the compound before them. He could feel Danny in there, the strange mix of life and death energies radiating off the half-ghost was an ever present comfort to the Witch boy by now, and he was especially glad for it now.

 He wouldn’t have been able to find him so quickly without it.

 “I sense something heavy in the compound,” Manhunter noted with a frown.

 Batman, ever the detective, wanted to know more, “Elaborate.”

 The martian’s face twisted as he focused, reaching out with his mind to better read the heavy -no, oppressive- cloud that covered the compound, before gasping, recognition and anguish passing over as he physically recoiled. Green Lantern was there to steady him by the shoulders before he could so much as stumble.

 “What did you feel?” The Dark Knight compelled once it was clear there were no lasting effects of his reaching out.

 “Pain,” he replied shakily. “So much pain and suffering, hanging over the building like a fog. It is unnaturally powerful, if I hadn’t known beforehand, I would assume an entire city was under attack and not a single building.”

 The Dark Knight said nothing, simply taking what was said to heart. He moved forward with purpose, but before he could get too far a hand held him back. “Wait.”

 Batman looked down at the chaos mage, a single hand splayed out over his chest. “You need to know some things before I take you in there.”

 The  miniscule tilt of the taller man’s cowl was all Klarion needed to continue. “The facility is phase proof, the martian won’t be able to density shift through the walls, and the nature of their weapons are similar to Green Lantern’s constructs. You won’t get hurt badly if they hit you, but I’ve been told they burn.” All vital things to know. Batman's strategy would have to account for this, but he could still sense something from the teen, and so kept quiet.

 “And when we find Phantom? Get every agent you can out of there. He doesn’t like senseless killing, but I will not leave that building standing.”

 Batman gave a single nod, and with that Klarion enveloped the five in the red mist of his magic.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The plan was rather simple, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern were to be dropped off at the entrance to the building as a distraction and to round up the agents while Klarion, Manhunter and Batman were to use Klarion’s magic to infiltrate and locate the King. Klarion’s mist acted as a memetic, letting the gaze of the agents fall past them on their way through the building as they ran deeper to where he could feel Danny. They had to be careful to not touch anyone though, as the moment they did they would be able to see them.

 “Why can’t you teleport us in?” Baman asked as they rounded another stark white corner into another stark white hall.

 “Death energies, do strange things to magic,” Klarion panted his reply. He was not used to actually running, and he couldn’t figure out why some humans actually liked doing the activity. “With so much, charged death and ectoplasm in the air, better to not cause an explosion. So soon.”

 Another swerve and he could feel Danny more, could almost taste that distinct flavour of citrus and menthol, the strange combination of ectoplasm and life that surrounded his ghost. The smell of citrus was strong though, and Klarion was desperately hoping he wasn’t too late with this rescue. The first real good thing he tries to do and he ends up a moment too late.

 “The source of the pain is drawing nearer,” Manhunter informs them as they pass a windowed room. Batman breaks off to take a look inside, calling to the other two to keep going. Klarion never stopped.

 One more corner and the acidic sour smell of citrus was assaulting their noses, and they started passing doors more resembling operating room entrances than offices. Lights were still on over a few as they passed, and Klarion made sure to snake a coil of mist into those that did, leaving screams and indistinct, cut off pleas in their wake. Those ones especially could rot in hell for all he cared, the smell of everdeath roiled off those rooms, alluding to whatever horrors might have been performed in them. He knew only a fraction of the ectoplasm spilt in there was from the one he cherished, but that made them no less guilty.

 The final turn led them to a hall lined with a different type of door, these ones steel grey tinted green. Klarion loathed to see the colours he associated with his spirit used in a mockery against him, keeping Danny away from him. He stalked down, using his magic to blow every door off its hinges as he passed until he hit the one his beloved was in. Turning to face it, he held up his hand, willing his magic to grasp it and tear it from the wall, throwing it down the hall and uncaring what was in the way.

 Emotion charged ectoplasm rolled out of the small cell, settling around their feet like fog and weakly intermingling with klarion’s magic.

 The sight made the mage want to puke. And weep. And decimate this measly world that would dare touch his soul like this.

 Were it not for the Martian's presence he just might have.

 Danny was there, shackled to the wall with chains at his wrists and ankles, head weighed heavy by the collar around his neck and the fucking muzzle on his face. The ghost made no move to the light that now filtered into the space, he hung limply from his chains, lifelessly. Only the faint glow around Danny’s frame gave away that he was not yet truly ended.

 But the green.

 A shaky breath from behind the mage reminded him where he was, and he urgently entered the room. He went to work on the manacles, seemingly seamless, but with one whispered word they were releasing Danny into his arms.

 “Is he?..” The martian started, too afraid to finish the sentence lest it become a reality.

 “No,” Klarion breathed out shakily. “No he’s still… He’ll recover.” He has to.

 “He’s so young,” Manhunter observed with a pained face as Klarion lowered to the floor of the cell, turning the ghost so he could hold him by the shoulders while he worked on getting his ankles freed.

 “He was even younger when he started,” with Danny's ankles freed, all that was left was the inhibitor collar and that damned muzzle. He did away with the muzzle first, desperate to see his cherished spirit's face. No magic was needed for it, thankfully, just a simple lock keeping it around the halfa’s face. Klarion gingerly removed the offending device, tossing it at a wall and making a note of obliterating it before he left. There were already chafe marks around Danny’s cheeks and on his nose, green and nearly raw from it pressing his jaw shut.

 How long has he been here for them to look so raw?

 Klarion had only been away for two months at the most, off on some insignificant errand after finding the piece of an artifact drifting in the Realms. Insignificant because apparently while he was away, his cherished one had gotten captured trying to save one of his people from this moronic group. When he had finally returned, he had to be informed about his capture. The rage he felt then… He hopes Danny wouldn’t be too mad at him for the damage he caused to the Fortress.

 A breathy groan followed by a sharp intake of breath and subsequent coughing brought Klarion out of his what if spiral. Danny was waking up, bleary eyed and confused at first -no doubt concerning his orientation- but a few seconds after the couches settled green eyes focused on black.

 “Hey, Rion,” the ghost king gave a small watery smile. “Glad you could finally make it. How was  your adventure?”

 “Stupid ghost-” Klarion has to reel back the power he was putting behind his voice with a breath that came out more like a sob. “Do you know how worried I was when you weren’t in Amity? In the Fortress? I was away for two damn months and you almost got yourself ended Danny!”

 Danny gave a chuckle that teetered into more of a cough as he weakly wiggled in Klarions lap. “They tried to grab Lunch Lady and Boxed Lunch, what was I supposed to do? It's my job as king to keep them safe-”

“NOT AT YOUR OWN EXPENSE YOU MORON!”

 The outburst silenced the ghost with a small snap of his jaw, followed by a cut off groan at the soreness from its disuse. A light cough broke the tense silence, and Danny sat up slightly to see what made it, eyes immediately sharp with alertness for any possible danger. His eyes landed on Martian Manhunter and that sharpness melted away to confusion.

 “Is that- why- Am I dreaming?” He stuttered, looking between the Justice leaguer and his lover. “Did I pass out so hard I’m actually dreaming my boyfriend came to save me with Martian Manhunter right now? Someone pinch me.” Klarion obliged the request and Danny yelped in pain. “Yep, okay, not a dream. Cool,” He whimpered, eyes now glued to the martian.

 Klarion went back to the task of freeing the ghost from his restraints, but hesitated before taking the collar off. “Do you have enough power to stay in this form if I take this off you?” He asked cautiously.

 Danny looked down, trying to see the band of metal around his neck, but quickly gave up with a sigh. “Probably not, it's taking most of my energy just to stay awake and talk right now.” He looked ashamed to say it, but Klarion was relieved to get a straight answer about his condition for once.

 “I’ll leave it on until we get you somewhere safe then,” Klarion whispered before readjusting his hands and standing up with the ghost boy bridal-style. The energy must have been draining from his cherished, as he only jolted at the movement. He could see Danny's eyes getting heavy, his head pitching forward before righting itself a few more times.

 “You’ll be there when I wake up… Right?” The Ghost boy asked, voice slurring with the effort to remain conscious. Klarion nodded once as he kissed the ghost's forehead -warmer than it should be- and walked back out of the cell. “Of course, my spirit. Rest.”

 One more wobbly nod and the ghost’s eyes closed. Klarion straightened, reigniting his magic with the help of Teekl and pushing it to blow the rest of the cell doors off their hinges. A few other ghosts floated out, and Manhunter helped a few more into the hall. They left slowly, with magical fire crackling in the prison that once held his spirit, catching the ectoplasm alight as the Witch Boy’s face contorted.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The trip back to the Javelin was shorter than the trip into the facility, without the need to be covert they were able to retrace their steps through the building at a much faster pace. Batman regrouped with them just before the exit, and out in the grounds Green Lantern and Wonder Woman had done a great job of distracting and subduing most of the agents. One of them must have gone in and rounded up the scientists too, because they were tied up in a neat little pile a ways off.

 Good, he could burn this place to the ground without worry then.

 Klarion didn’t stop his stride out the compound as his magic spread to lick the walls, fire sparking to life where it touched. He didn’t stop to watch as the fire spread up the walls unnaturally fast, as it spread into the building through the holes it was melting in the reinforced glass. He didn’t pause when an explosion hit the air, the fire most likely finding the medical wing or the weapons vault.

 Klarion only stopped once Danny was securely in the small medbay of the Javelin, held securely in place for takeoff.

~~~~~

   Danny came to slowly, letting the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone fill his lungs as he breathed deeply… Wait. Ectoplasm? Ghost Zone?? Lungs???

 Screw waking up slowly, Danny bolted up from wherever he was sleeping… and immediately regretted it. A massive headache assaulted his senses, along with about a dozen other aches and pains from his capture, most notably his jaw and starving stomach. Still, assessing the situation came before anything else, so he tried to make himself vertical despite his body's protests. Until a hand on his chest stopped him.

 Klarion met his bleary eyed confusion with a stern stare. He pushed down once more and this time Danny didn’t protest the movement. “It wasn’t a dream?” Danny croaked out, only a little bit surprised at how dry his voice sounded.

 “No it wasn’t a dream,” Klarion replied softly as he pressed a straw to Danny's lips. He was grateful for the first full drink of water he’d gotten in… he doesn't remember how long.

 “And Martian Manhinter? Was he real too then?” Danny asked when his throat no longer felt like sandpaper. Klarion hummed an affirmative as he put the cup back on the nightstand, idly stroking Teelke with his offhand. He takes a second to process that before he nearly bolts up again, startling the familiar and mage alike.

 “Is the Justice League here‽‽”

 A pregnant pause followed the exclamation before the Witch Boy gave a snort, snickering to avoid outright laughing at the bedridden ghost. “No, I left the little humans to fly back to their clubhouse while I took you back to the Realms with a portal.”

 Deflating with the explanation, Danny’s eyes travelled the embroidered constellations on the canopy of his bed, finally relaxing enough to appreciate where he was. Home. He took another deep breath, feeling his ectoplasm replenish itself more than it had in the last month in the GIW facility. The ectoplasm combined with the pine and fire smell of the mage sitting beside him only enforced the fact that he wasn’t there anymore. Tears threatened to fall with that thought.

 His boyfriend came for him. He didn’t doubt he would, but the days passed along and he was starting to lose hope. But not only did Rion come for him, he brought the Justice League, a group he knows Rion has beef with. Traitorously, a tear managed to escape and roll down into his hair.

 “You know, I’ll have to go talk to the League now that you’ve told them about me,” Danny commented, desperate to get out of those thoughts and ignoring the way his voice wobbled.

 “I’m sure you will,” Rion replied, no doubt with a roll of his eyes. “But you need to heal first. You’re in no shape to go talk to a bunch of stupid humans right now.”

 Danny gave a snort, “Those ‘stupid humans’ helped you get me back, right? Maybe drop the stupid when we see them next.”

 Rion only grunted in reply, and so they lapsed into silence again. Danny felt sleep pulling at his mind again, now that he knew he was truly safe with his beloved mage beside him. He didn't fight it for long, but he needed to say one more thing before he truly allowed himself to start healing.

 “Rion,” he mumbled out, getting the attention of the mage with a hum. “Thanks for coming to get me, love you.”

 A rare kind of smile passed the pale teen’s lips then, soft and kind. “I love you too, Danny.”

[chong2zu3]

good omens season 3 episode one theory

i havent seen the show at all

crowley leaves town and lives in a ditch somewhere

crowley is the first one to meet jesus on earth when he crash-lands or he's the first one to seek him out because occult beings are able to detect him (kind of like a reversed anti-christ)

jesus turns out to be a guy (gender tbd) that isnt happy about the second coming because he resents not being able to make his own choices and hes human too.

jesus was the one who crash-landed the plane because the airline angels are too not normal about jesus and easy to manipulate. also he didn't want to kill all humans. he survived the plane crash by first dying and then resurrecting 3 days later

jesus contemplates dy1ng on the cross again because maybe that'll set the end of days back whille getting drunk on his own bodily fluid (wine) wiht crowley

as the prime archangel, aziraphale tries to make changes to the second coming so that it doesnt melt the earth and kill all humans. this doesn't work

aziraphale gets assigned too much petty work by metatron or just made very busy with work in general. he sees this as validation and becomes a workaholic. this keeps him from paying attention to whatever's happening on earth.

metatron's reason for recruiting aziraphale is because he sees aziraphale, especially when he's with crowley, as a major threat in realising his interpretation of god's plans, not necessarily because he thought he would be a good leader or anything.

heaven's rigid corporate structure is implied to be metatron's mistake because of his misunderstanding on god's words. (god is incoherrent so metatron made stuff up)

crowley persuades jesus to not d1e and convinces him that technically he's god too so he has the authority to make changes to the plan maybe

jesus likes the idea but he is mortal and can't go to heaven while still being alive so they decide to get help from muriel who is still on earth

muriel reports this back to aziraphale who goes by raphale now because his previous name was too long and inconvenient for others to pronounce which led to inefficiency in the workplace according to metatron

aziraphale is excited to know jesus is back on earth but also confused because the earth isn't lava yet which contradicts with the schedule

aziraphale goes down to earth to meet jesus and on his way down he gets issued the glass phone thing the angels have because he should always be on call.

the glass phone is meant to keep aziraphale in check. aziraphale doesnt know how to use the phone so he just gets lots of text messages and calls but cant make them himself or put it on mute (heaven phones arent like earth phones and they dont do what you tell them to do even if you ask nicely)

jesus is falsely accused of being an impostor by metatron because god's plans or metatron's interpretation of it is supposed to be immutable so it shouldnt be possible that jesus' existence on earth doesnt bring about the end of times

aziraphale is frustrated with metatron who up until now only communicated w him through memos (and text messages now that aziraphale has a phone) because thats clearly jesus, angels can literally feel his presence probably

crowley teaches aziraphale how to use the phone because he used to be a high ranking angel

aziraphale calls metatron directly

aziraphale upon calling metatron disassociates and after hanging up, orders the angels and launches an all out attack on humanity because the gods plans must be realised

aziraphale snaps out of his trance-like state when crowley calls out to him and tries to stand down the angels who arrive in war gear

angels don't recognise aziraphale as raphale the archangel, their boss, because crowley's calling him aziraphale

when angels try to attack humanity, hell sees this as a breach of some type of understanding between them and wrecking stuff on earth becomes competitive sport

jesus dies for real in a comedic way while trying to stop them from destroying the earth

[johnemulaney]

John Mulaney: From Scratch in Las Vegas, September 4

Once again, spoilers for the show and what will presumably be in the special. This is about his relapse so tread with caution is that will be an issue for you. However, the tone of his struggle is the same one he used in his past specials so if you didn’t have any issues then, I think you’d be ok with this. Of course, use your own best judgement, friends.

The opener was Seaton Smith. 

He opened with trying to find the rich people in the crowd but acknowledged that they’d go mwrmwmwrw money isn’t everything so then he started talking about golf and went aha I got ya’ll. 

There was a joke about weed being the only Christian drug

He had a bit about when white people are nice, be nervous

He had a bit about there being a black man on the Bachelor and was like America (ABC and Disney+) were not ready for a black man to be fucking a house full of 50 white women. That shit premiered on Tuesday and the Capitol burned on Wednesday.

He also did some crowd work and roasted a couple in the front row for having different answers about kids and she was like I didn’t hear the question and was roasted about how not hearing questions you don’t want to answer is certainly a tactic, often used by drug dealers

He also had a bit about how different child rearing is in Texas versus New York and about how hitting your kids is treated differently, like his dad would have just threatened it whimsically. 

Now on to the Main Event!

The first thing he said was “hiiiiiiiiii” exactly in the tone you think he said it in. he followed that up with a little shrug looking adorable and a little bashful

“It’s him! Mr. Problems. Oh Las Vegas, Oh my god” he then talks about how Vegas is a land of vice and a Choice for him to preform in as a recovering addict. He had a sober buddy and 3 bodyguards with him at all times. 

“And here’s what happened” December 18, 2020, he gets invited to a friends apartment for dinner AND HE’S TWO HOURS LATE because he stopped, coked out of his mind, at SNL for a haircut because he still had his building access badge and he went to the hair department and they were like, he’ll leave faster if we just do this, and then he stopped at his drug dealers. 

He called venmo and cashapp, apps for drug deals and was like what do normal people even use them for. He maxed both out paying for drugs. 

He was the best looking person at his intervention. “Coke skinny, new cut” and the 12 people intervening looked like shit. He looked “tears for fears while they all looked jerry garcia” (I hope you know who those musicians are besties). 

He immediately yelled “Can I go to the bathroom” to you know, dump his drugs because when you walk into that, you know what it is. 

He was not allowed to go (he would be asked if he still needed to pee later and would say “what?”

There were 6 people in NYC and 6 people over zoom in LA because he guesses 6 people couldn’t be bothered to fly in for HIS INTERVENTION

Interventions can go two ways, it can be kind of accusatory and this is how you let us all down, or it can be supportive. Everyone but Nick Kroll got the memo to be supportive.

Nick Kroll went first.

Nick Kroll listed all the ways John was a bad best friend and brother over zoom and John was getting texts during the intervention saying Nick wasn’t supposed to do that and they were all sorry. 

Bill Hader went next. he originally wasn’t going to be able to make it so he had recorded a thing but since he was there, he did it live. (He would eventually send the video to John in rehab, which is not what you want on the way to rehab “awesome, more intervention”)

He tried to derail the intervention, “there’s not enough latinx representation” he said he’d go to any rehab except the one they had picked out for him. This was a star-studded affair and he was mad no one was being funny. 

 Natasha Lyons went next, telling him his life and career is in shambles

So he gets carted off to rehab after this intervention. Don’t let 12 comedians pack your bags for 2 months at rehab. it was bombas socks and iphone chargers. 

A little secret about rehab, you’re not allowed to bring drugs in. You remember how he was late? In his pocket on the way to rehab included: a huge amount of pills, 3g of coke (which was 2g by the time he got there, courtesy of a koala station in a gas station bathroom), and $2000 in cash. He had other plans for the weekend. He was admitted for xanax, coke, perocet, and adderall addiction. Say what you will, but he does not do anything half way.

It’s 4am when he’s sent to detox, he’s been awake for 3 days. 

He also gives a small lesson on how to get drugs. Find the lowest rated doctors on yelp and webmd reviews and go ask for them, they need all the business they can get. You become like Captain Phillips, I am the doctor now. 

Dr. Michael was his shady doctor. He was a first avenue apartment where he would write prescriptions from his kitchenette where his girl Minerva was always asleep. “I didn’t kill my wife Minerva.” But John would ask for his drugs, Dr. Michael would write the script and then ask what he needed it for. Dr. Michael would also make John take his shirt off, always offering a flu shot and going no, shirt all the way off (in case you were wondering how bad this addiction actually was)

The first moral is now you know. The second moral is get vaccinated.

He’s sent to the regular ward the next afternoon and they finally get him to sleep. 

He’s sketched out that doctors have last names at this establishment

He asks for drugs such as klonopin and is taken aback a bit when he doesn’t get them. The doctor is like PA state law says no, and so John suggests they go to a CVS in Jersey to get some. 

His bestie Pete Davidson starts calling that night. Except Pete changes his number every month and a half so John has him send a selfie and saves the new number under some other random name, at this point in time, Pete is saved as Al Pacino. (We get an Al Pacino impression) John is asleep and his nurse sees Al Pacino trying to call him 5 times and so she wakes him up. 

Pete Davidson and John Mulaney did not do drugs together. (The author is lowkey surprised and sad about that, like if Pete was my bestie, we’d make so many poor choices) But Pete was always very supportive of his sobriety. 

John needs recognition so badly, in group when they introduced themselves he said “I’m John M.” and no one cared. So he left a tabloid out with the news of his admittance and his face on it in the rec room on the table. The not being someone was “driving him bananas.” When they talked about what they do for a living and he said I’m a a stand up comedian, someone asked if he made a living that way. He said “yeah ask your daughter” (or your son)

One of the things you do at rehab is break up with your drug dealer.

One of his drug dealers only bought drugs to keep John from buying worse off the streets and only got into the game because John kept asking him for drugs and was his only buyer. That guy was originally a painter and John has no idea how they met. John is the only person to turn an innocent man into a drug dealer. 

Here he did the Baby J is back baby joke. the Park Theater is one of the biggest stages in the world so he did that joke in one pace across the stage and said the stage is that joke long. 

“I am no longer on drugs. It’s very good but also ah---” He’s in a 12 step anonymous group. 

“I need attention, clearly.” After a show you think he would be sated, but no. 

He wants that attention that the kid who’s grandparent died and showed up to school dressed for the funeral and got to sit in the beanbag chair for reading despite it not being his turn, gets. He went on about being willing to let one of the lesser important grandparents die so he could get attention, for quite a while. 

He feels left behind in science, like his C’s and D’s in those classes. All those classes were was putting things on a windowsill for the janitor to throw away. He had a bit about how the fuck people put dinosaurs back together, it’s like getting wayfair furniture without the instructions. 

He also things the moon belongs to America. Like we got there first and when other countries say stuff about the moon he’s like mmmmmmm.

He also had a joke about paying to get into college and like, for white people that’s always how it’s been. 

The show ended with him going over the highlights of that GQ interview that he was so coked out for that he forgot he did it entirely. He has no memory of it at all. He was just called up that day and asked for an interview and you know how coke is the best drug to receive attention on? He just did whatever he wanted with that attention. 

And that was the show.

[thestarrynightslover]

Babe, huh?

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Voight!Reader

Word count: 2,097

Warnings: A little angst (but more in a comical way, I think).

Summary: Jay and the reader have been going out for some time when he spots her happily chatting with Sergeant Platt at the district's front desk. He's happily surprised to see her there, but there's one thing she had been holding back from telling him: who her dad is.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I think that this could have turned out a lot better than it did. But I think it isn't too bad either.

Also, I wanna thank y’all for the amount support that I’ve been getting on my fics! That really means the world to me, guys!! 💕

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

It was an unusually sunny day in Chicago when you left work that noon. You didn’t always go out on your lunch breaks, preferring to just grab something on the machines scattered across the office, but on that Wednesday you’d told your dad that you two would meet for a father-daughter date. And that really was all you were thinking about, as you walked up the steps of the small staircase in front of the 21st District.

“Hey, Trudy!” You greeted the desk sergeant, who had been a friend of your family for as long as you could remember.

“Hi, (y/n/n)! What a surprise to see you here!” She told you, a huge smile on her face. “A nice surprise, for a change!” Platt stated, looking sharply at a younger woman who was standing at the corner of the counter, probably filling out some paperwork.

“Ah, Trudy! You flatter me!” You said innocently, looking at her through your lashes, the face you always used with the trio: Your dad, Trudy, and Al.

“Ha! Always so cute!” The sergeant spoke again, like she was talking to a baby, as the other woman just stared at the scene in shock. “But what are you doing here, anyway? Came to surprise your dad? Because I’m sure he’ll love that!”

“No, it’s not exactly a surprise! We’d previously agreed on a lunch-date for today...” You trailed off.

“Oh! Then that’s why he came back from the raid they just made pacing like a deer in headlights!” Hearing that comment, you couldn’t help but laugh, as you imagined your father acting like that. “Hey, Burgess!” She shouted at the woman near to you. “Are you finishing that already? Because, when you do, you need to go back upstairs and let your sergeant know that his date’s here.” Trudy said simply, winking at you, to which you just responded with a smile.

“Oh, c’mon, sarge! Really? Why can’t you just call or text him?” The woman, Burgess, questioned, poutingly.

“Because I don’t want to? And tell me, again, since when did I start needing to give you a reason to follow my orders, huh, officer? Because I don’t recall getting the memo!” The sergeant barked, practically biting the younger officer’s head off.

“Geez, sarge-” Officer Burgess started answering, as reality finally began to hit her. “Wait,” she breathed out, turning to face you this time, “you’re Voight’s dau-” Burgess stopped in the middle of her sentence, now being cut off by another voice that was very familiar to you.

“Baby?” Shit, you thought. “What are you doing here?” Your boyfriend asked you, with a bright smile on his face.

How could have you possibly forgotten that Jay worked here? At your dad’s district? Of course, you still hoped that they somehow wouldn’t know each other. But you weren’t prepared for that introduction just yet. And it would happen, taking that he wasn’t shy at all about kissing you that passionately right in front of Trudy Platt. One of your dad’s best friends, Trudy Platt. You knew you couldn’t blame him, though. After all, you were the one who kept him in the dark about who your dad was.

“H- hi, Jay.” You managed to mumble whilst catching your breath.

“Hey,” he started, giving you those cute love eyes of his, “I’m surprised to see you here, but not complaining!” He said, raising his hands and smiling at you. “You wanna grab lunch?”

“Uh, I, uh-”

“I’m afraid she’s already taken for lunch, Halstead.” None other than your dad huffed out, from the top of Intelligence’s stairs. Of course, he would have to see that entire scene, and, of course, he would have to know your boyfriend.

Hearing that, Jay turned his head between you and your dad, and, then, looked at Trudy and Burgess, more confused than anything. “Babe?” He decided on asking you about it. To which your dad just gave a side-smile.

“Babe, huh?” He mocked, walking closer to where you were standing. “Something you wanna tell me, honey?”

“I-” You barely started when someone interrupted.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re shacking up with him, (y/n)?!?!?” Trudy cut you off, half-asking, half-begging while you started feeling the heat coming to your cheeks.

"So, (y/n), you gonna explain this? We're all here waiting." Your father told you, no more sense of humor in his features.

"Look, guys… " You started, not really knowing how to move from there. You didn't think you'd have to have the conversations with both your father and your boyfriend at the same time, and in front of Trudy (not to mention the other cops passing by). So you went for the easy way out, maybe it was a bit of a childish choice, but still. "You know what? No, I'm not gonna explain anything to anyone right now," you spoke, making clear that that was meant for all of them, "and, I don’t think that I’m in the mood for lunch anymore, dad." At that, the three cops just kept staring at you, Jay being the first to speak up.

"Uh, dad? (y/n), baby, just tell me what's going on." He pleaded with you, eyes already showing some hurt, which made you feel like the worst person ever. But you just knew that you wouldn’t be able to properly explain anything to anyone at that moment, not in that kind of circumstance anyway, so you decided to get the hell out of there before you buried yourself even deeper.

After you fleed the building, leaving a bunch of stunned police officers behind, Trudy took it upon herself to figure out why on Earth you’d be kissing the stupid Detective Jay Chuckles Halstead: “So, how’s it gonna be, Halstead? Why the hell were you kissing our (y/n/n), hum?” She asked, bluntly, while motioning between herself and Hank.

“Your (y/n/n)?” Jay shot back, completely confused by the whole situation.

“Actually, she’s mine. My daughter.” Voight finally spoke again, fulminating the younger man with his eyes.

“Okay… I think this is my cue to leave." Burgess finally decided to say 𑁋 as she was feeling very awkward 𑁋, sliding off towards the back exit.

“Uh, yeah, um, I’m gonna- I’m gonna go, grab some lunch outside too.” Jay ranted a little, running his hand over the back of his neck and moving towards the exit, right on Kim’s track.

The rest of the day went by tensely at the police district: Jay avoiding both his superiors, as you ducked his calls, and Hank and Trudy sending almost tangible hate waves on his way. It wasn’t like your time at work gone too well either, with the mess you’d made always in the back of your mind.

So 𑁋 after you got back home 𑁋, knowing it was the right, mature, thing to do, you called Jay and, then, your dad, telling them both to come by your place for dinner. Yes, you were about to ambush them. Because you’re a mature person.

“Hey, babe!” You cheerfully greeted your boyfriend, perking up to kiss him, as you opened the apartment door more.

“Hey.” Jay answered coldly while dodging your kiss, at which you frowned in confusion.

“So, um,” you decided to start again, tucking a string of hair behind your ear, “I called you here because I needed to talk to you-”

“Yeah, we definitely need to talk.” He said, cutting you off with a stern look on his face.

At the exact moment you were about to open your mouth to say something, the doorbell rang again and you knew it was your dad. Okay, maybe that whole ambush thing wasn’t a good idea after all. You gave Jay an apologetic look in advance, as you walked back towards the door, only to open it and reveal a, still, very pissed off Hank Voight.

“What’s he doing here?” Your dad barked out, not wasting a second, as he pointed a finger at the man standing behind you.

“You called him too?” This time it was Jay asking. “I thought it was gonna be just the two of us…” He then added quietly.

“Just the two of us! Who the hell do you think you are, huh, Halstead?!”

“Sarge, I’m just trying to-”

“I don’t care what you’re trying to do, you need to get out of here right now so I can talk to my daughter. That’s what you need to do!”

“Enough!” You yelled, finally getting both men’s attention. “Dad, you need to stop talking to Jay like that.”

“But-”

“But, nothing! He is my boyfriend and I love him!” You blurted out, Jay giving you a small smile in response. “So… Now that that’s out of the way… Jay, this is my dad.” You added, motioning for where your father stood by the door. “And, before any of you asks, no, I didn’t know that you two worked together! I thought that maybe you knew each other, but wasn’t ready to make the introductions just yet. And I’m sorry if that caused a, um, situation.”

“Baby… Why didn’t you ever tell me that your father was a cop?”

“I- I just, I was just afraid that’d push you away from me. You know, before we even had a chance.” You admitted shyly.

“Why- why would that push him away from you, (y/n/n)?” That was your dad’s turn to ask.

“Well, I know that you have a reputation, dad. So I figured that maybe he wouldn’t wanna get involved with your daughter of all people. Wouldn’t want the trouble.” You confessed one more time. “Besides, we all saw how, um, fiercely Trudy was willing to “protect me”.” You added, making them both giggle a little.

“Alright, there’s just one more thing that still doesn’t add up.” Your boyfriend started again, still serious but more relaxed this time. “Why isn’t your last name Voight?” He asked, still unsure of what was going on, as you and your dad traded knowing looks with each other.

“Ah, that... After my mom died, I started using her maiden last name. You know, as a way to remember her. It’s been so long now that I actually forget that the Voight’s even there.” You explained. “Sorry, dad.”

“Nah, it’s okay. You know I like the idea.” Hank replied, a soft smile on his lips.

“Ah, okay. That makes sense.” Jay said nervously and started scratching the back of his neck, like he always did when he was getting anxious. “Just- just so you know, princess, I wouldn’t have backed out of our relationship, then. And I’m not going to, now, either.” The anger in your father’s eyes relit but you didn’t really care, not when all you wanted to do was jump your handsome detective and not let him out of your apartment until, at least, the next morning.

“Dad,” you began saying, after deciding to go for a more conciliatory version of it, “don’t be like that, okay? I know that you wanna protect me and everything, but I’m happy with Jay. I really am.”

“And I promise I’ll never, ever, do anything to hurt her, sarge. But, if I do, you should definitely hurt me back with all you got.”

“Oh, I will! And I think you’ve been working with me long enough to know that I don’t need your ‘go ahead’, or anyone else’s, for those matters, Halstead.” Your dad cheerfully stated while shooting a typical Hank Voight fake smile in Jay’s direction. “Now, if my daughter says she’s happy with you…” He started, turning to look at you, as if trying to confirm the information.

“Yes! I am!”

“Then… I suppose I could accept this.” You didn’t give him a single chance to second guess, pulling him in for a tight hug while Jay watched the scene smiling.

“Now let's have dinner! That way you guys can finish talking this whole macho tension out and we can all make a plan to appease Trudy." You told them, moving to heat the takeout you’d ordered earlier in your kitchen, Jay coming to help you in tow.

Many other times you, Jay, and your dad met for dinner, lunch, or even breakfast like that. If you and your boyfriend ever went a little overboard on the PDA, the infamous Hank Voight huff would definitely be heard. But, overall, you knew he was happy for you and Jay. Just like you knew that the detective liked hanging out with you and your dad.

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing II

A/N: I’m just about finished the whole series and I’m excited for you to read this! <3 Sorry for the late upload, I started a new semester and had zero time to write but I worked on this all weekend. I’m curious to know if your opinions on Harry change after this part, the next part’s going to be packed but this is an in-between. Thanks as always for reading <333

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I lay awake in bed, staring at the blank ceiling before my phone’s constant buzzing forces me up. A couple voicemails, and a single text from Harry: GM, call me if you need anything.

I stare at it longer than I should, the audacity to think we were fine enough to text me so casually. But there was some small solace in knowing he took the extra step to let me know. Ugh; my head injury was more serious than the medic diagnosed. I throw my phone on the bed and head downstairs where I’m surprised to see him gone. It was only 8am and I needed a coffee, otherwise I would not make it through the day. When I see the pot of coffee half full, I stop in my tracks. Harry made coffee before he left. I touch the pot and it’s still warm, he couldn’t have left that long ago.

I open the dishwasher that I’d loaded last night only to find it empty. I stand straight, hand on my hips--had he unloaded the dishes too? How did I not wake up to the noise? How did he even know where everything went?!

Maybe he wasn’t such a dense detective after all, the thought makes me smile. I look around the room and notice he’d tidied up from last night, and folded everything away on the couch he slept on. I take my coffee to the couch and without thinking, hug the pillow to my face and inhale. The strong scent of his aftershave sends a sharp and painful jolt to my memories. What the hell was I doing?

I drop the pillow and settle on my kitchen table, responding to some emails while I make a game plan for the day, shaking off the claustrophobic feeling I got thinking about going back to work. I finish the last of the coffee and start moving, shower, dress appropriately, pack my laptop...I just had to keep busy so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.

***

“We’re here for you, whatever you need,” the regional manager lets me know during the meeting. I’d learned post-trauma policies the bank had. I was sorry to know them, I really just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. I tell her that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We do require you to go to at least one counseling session, your employees have got to go to a group meet with a licensed therapist so you can all discuss this and get over the awful event.”

“I see,” I chew my lower lip. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the way I jumped at every little thing and stared down each and every stranger on the tube on my way in today. I felt crazy. Maybe I did need a shrink. “I’ll include that in the memo I guess. Thanks again for all the support and the resources-”

“That’s my job, our job.” She motions to the man sitting beside her who hadn’t actually said much the whole time. We talk for a little while longer, and by the time they leave I’m exhausted. But I make the trek to the hospital to visit Cole like I told him I would.

***

The weekend flies by: I take the train to visit my dad up north and let him take care of me like I was a kid again. It was nice to unwind, I thought, I should visit my dad more often.

But come Monday, I’m back in my pantsuit ready to get on with my life. I try not to think about Thursday too hard but it’s difficult when first thing that morning, a therapist shows up for a group session. Most of my employees look anxious to be here, but I watch their shoulders relax as they discuss what happened. Watching everyone bond brings a lightness to the heaviness that sat in my chest: it was good.

“Ms. Y/L/N? When can we schedule a one-on-one?” The therapist stops me at the end of the session.

“I think this session helped a lot,” I put on a big smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She smiles politely, as if she expected this, “It’s a requirement for back-to-work. I have time right now if you’d like, I’m not seeing another employee until lunch.”

“Um,” I look to where everyone mingles, comforting each other and breaking off into groups. If I had to talk about it in order to work, and work is the only thing to help me get my mind off of it...I guess I had no choice. “Let’s do it now.”

But an hour later and I’ve mostly just talked her ear off about Harry showing up, how awful my luck was that he would be the lead detective on the case, how much damage he’d done to me. How he appeared on one of the worst days of my life again.

“It’s almost a sign,” I ramble. “Like...what are the odds?!”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” She asks, looking like she knew the answer.

“No,” I scoff. “I hate him. He broke my trust!” And my heart.

“Those are feelings,” she says wisely. 

“Well sure, yeah, I have negative feelings towards him. Why wouldn’t I?”

She pauses, a very pregnant pause. “It’s been almost 4 years right? Usually, those feelings start to...dissolve into a more neutral ground when you...receive closure. You take time to grieve, to sit in the wound in your heart, but then you pick yourself up and try to heal. It seems like you’ve just told yourself you were healed and got on.”

“I am healed,” I insist.

“Just like you started this sessions by letting me know you were over the trauma that happened to you a few days ago?” She asks. I avoid her gaze. “When I asked about Thursday, you said you were ‘over it’ and you just wanted to focus on work but you’re not giving yourself closure. Likewise, with Harry. You haven’t found closure even after all these years.”

I stare at her, she’d sliced right into a vulnerable part of me--I’d led her there, I realise. It was something I knew all along, I just didn’t want to point at it alone.

“You’re right...I feel like I never got closure.” I confess. “How? I just want to know h-how he could’ve left me for another woman after all those years together--as lovers and as friends? He was there when mum...he was there through hell. And then he put me through hell.”

“I’d like to believe Harry showing up on a...hellish day is a sign like you say. But maybe a sign you need closure. Talk to him, ask him what you need to know in order to close that chapter of your life.”

I exhale, the idea of it making me feel claustrophobic. She wanted me to open myself up to him again and invite him to hurt my feelings? I try to ask her more but she looks at her watch. We’d gone over.

I thank her and walk out with a weight on my back that feels bigger than the one I went in with. I thought therapy was supposed to make me feel lighter.

***

I’m hiding behind my desk as the footsteps get closer and closer to the door. I clutch the knife in my hand and-

“Y/N!”

I jump up out of sleep, and open my eyes to my office. I stare at the table in front of me where the papers I used as a pillow are rumpled.

“Y/N? You have a call on-”

“Adam,” I look at my assistant. He’d been really quiet today and I was worried about him but there was so much to catch up on I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. “Sorry I...haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...the detective’s on the line he insisted he talk-”

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, motioning for Adam I’d be okay. He hesitates at the door before closing it tightly behind him.

“Y/N?” Harry’s breathless voice answers irritably on the other line.

“Harry? Why are you calling me at work?” I ask, still sleepy from the nap. Is this about the case?”

“No it’s about your things at the station, it was processed--we couldn’t find anything useful so we’re returning this batch. And I think some of it belongs to your staff? Did you want to pick it up or should I drop it off to yo-”

“I’ll pick it up,” I wanted to make it clear that Harry in my space wasn’t going to be a normal thing. “I’ll head out in a bit, can I just collect it at reception?”

“They’ll buzz you through to me, I’ve gotta go-”

“Just leave it with reception...” I say to dead air. He’d already hung up. Damn.

***

“I’m here for some things, it was taken for evidence?” I say to the woman at reception.

“You’ll have to be more specific love,” she raises an eyebrow. “A lot happens here.”

“The bank rob-”

“Ah, Harry’s case. I’ll buzz you through-”

“No I thought maybe I could collect it here uh-” I look for a nameplate. “Serena, listen, I’m in a rush so is there any way for you to get it-”

The phone ringing cuts me off. She holds up her finger and I stand tapping my foot. She rolls her eyes at whoever was on the other line, motions that they were chatty and points to the glass doors. I sigh, I guess I was seeing Harry. I think about my therapist and cringe, I couldn’t.

When I walk in, I scan the room for Harry but I don’t spot him anywhere. I walk awkwardly until someone asks if they could help but they point to his desk and tell me I could wait there.

“I’m actually here to pick up some evidence, couldn’t you just give it to me?”

“He’s the lead officer, he’s got to sign off--”

“Fine,” I hated the bloody bureaucracy around here. I go to where he points and sit in Harry’s chair, ignoring the looks from people around me. I toy with the pen and doodle on an empty paper. Y/N was here I write and smile, it was juvenile.

“Y/N! Sorry! Nobody told me you were here.” Harry shows up a few minutes later. He opens the bottom drawer and takes out a nondescript cardboard box. If I knew if was down there I would’ve left a long time ago. “Just need you to sign this.”

“Okay,” I sign where he points and reach for the box. “I’ll grab that, thank you.”

“Can I walk you out?” He fiddles with his phone.

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Nope,” he’s all teeth when he smiles. I sigh and walk in front of him. It’s weirdly silent but I notice he was typing on his phone when I look over.

“Well...g’night then.” I say at the door but he pushes it open and walks out with me.

He finally puts his phone away and asks. “Are you alright? Have you gone back to work?”

“Yeah,” I chew at my bottom lip, nervous. “We’re really sticking together, trying to get through it.”

“That’s good. That’s how it should be.” He waits a beat. “We’ve been trying to catch the robbers, they hit up another bank so it’s hell inside. That’s why I was so busy.”

“Another?” My heart plummets, and my palms feel slick.

“Yeah but we’re working as fast as we can. So...uh, did you need anything from me before you go?”

“I...” I think about the therapist’s words and chew my lower lip. I try to work up the courage. Fuck it, I realise. I had nothing to lose. “I do...actually.”

“Oh,” he looks surprised. “Good, what’s that?”

“I want to talk, about us. I...I need like, closure Harry. I think I deserve an explanation about...” I trail off as I notice him staring at me blankly. “What?”

His blank expression settles into confusion. “What’s more to explain Y/N. I’ve told you everything, I-I dunno. I thought one day we could get together like old friends, but it’s obvious you’re still upset with everything and I don’t know what more I can say? I said everything in that letter but if-”

“The letter?” I ask sharply, cutting off his chatter.

“Yeah, the one I wrote you after we...after you moved out?” When I don’t react he continues: “I dropped it off at your sister’s the week after you cleaned out your things? You didn’t...read it?” He looks hurt, if that was possible all these years later.

“I...did. Obviously I just...had some questions.” My heart races; what letter? He wrote me a letter?

“So what do you want to ask?” He looks at me curiously, concern etched in his brows. “I would like to talk actually-”

“Now’s not a good time,” I cut him off again. I had to know about this letter first. I can’t believe I walked into this blind. “I’ve actually had a long day, this is--we can do this another time, okay? Thanks for...walking me out.”

***

The first thing I do when I get home is call my sister. I can sniff her guilt a whole country away.

“Y/N, you were heartbroken! Y-you didn’t need to have it broken all over again reading his stupid letter! I was looking out for you!”

“That wasn’t your call!” I raise my voice. “I’ve been...I haven’t had closure all this time! I thought he didn’t even care enough to try to explain it to me and you knew he sent a letter this whole time?”

“Well when he showed up to the flat I wasn’t about to-”

“When did he come to the flat?” I wanted to strangle my sisters and her protective instincts.

“After you moved your things out. He wanted to see you and I knew you were a mess, I told him you never wanted to speak to him. I was looking out for you babe I-I didn’t even realise I was keeping you from closure I just...I didn’t want you hurting. Don’t be mad.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, she was right. It was Harry who hurt me, and I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry for yelling I just-I wish I could read that letter.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I should’ve given it to you once you moved out...I still have it though. I think I tucked it into my old yearbook. D’you want me to...”

“Mail it? Yes, as soon as possible please. I need to know what he wrote.”

“What if you just get hurt all over again?” she asks.

“I’ve been hurting, I don’t think his outdated explanation will hurt any more. Just please mail it the first chance you get okay?”

I was so close to it, I think. I had to get that letter. I needed closure. I deserved it. And just knowing I could get it, it’s almost like I was waking up in a dark tunnel I hadn’t realised I was in this whole time. I knew where I was, and I could see light on the horizon.

H POV:

The last time I had a full night’s sleep was on Y/N’s couch, this case was a lot bigger than we thought. It wasn’t just a robbery at one branch, these same people have hit up two other places in the last few days and they were good. The worst part was they weren’t afraid to use a gun.

“Chief,” one of the constables comes up to my desk, where I’d been staring at footage for the last hour. “There’s been um, there’s a problem-”

“Spit it out,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“The evidence you released on Monday...blokes down in evidence can’t find the SIM from the scene...we think they accidentally left it with that batch.”

I look up from my screen and I can practically see the sweat breaking out on his brow as I stare. If that was important evidence, we’d misplaced it at the height of an investigation. My arse would be on the line too--it was my name on the authorization letter.

“Don’t panic until we’re sure it’s not with the evidence we gave out,” I get up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m looking into it right now, don’t let anybody know it’s happened.”

I grab my jacket from my chair and root in the pocket for my phone but Y/N’s number goes to voicemail. I curse. I look at the time, it was 6 already. I had a feeling she might kill me but I would have to drive to her place, I hoped she didn’t leave the evidence at work...after all I did tell her to return it to her employees...I have the brief thought of asking her in the morning but I remember my arse on the line and walk quicker.

“Woah, someone’s in a hurry,” Detective Cole comments as I rush past her. “Not even a hello.”

“Sorry,” I flash her a smile. “Urgent!”

“Need any help?”

I pause long enough to turn around and answer. “Normally I would say yes but I’ve got to do this.”

“Don’t let me keep ya,” she smiles, I notice Serena eyeing the both of us suspiciously as she packs up for the day. She was always trying to convince me to ask her on a date, but I was done with dating coworkers after I made the mistake of marrying one and breaking up quickly thereafter in the past. I’d changed careers quickly after that.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh my god,” I stop in the middle of my bedroom as my sister reveals her big news over Facetime, an ultrasound held up to the camera. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I-I-you’re pregnant!” I was shocked, I didn’t even know my sister was trying for a third kid. “You better give me a bloody niece this time!”

My sister laughs, one hand on her belly. I should’ve known, I realise, she’d been cryptic the last few times we talked, dropping clue, but I’d been so wrapped up in other things I didn’t pick up on them. “It wasn’t even planned but Y/N, it feels right. The boys are stoked--they want a sister too.”

“I am so happy for you and Stu,” I let out a whoop. “I wish I could hug you! I’m going to book some time next month and come see you--this is big! Did you tell dad?”

“Not yet, don’t say anything--oh,” a cry bursts out from somewhere on her end. She rolls her eyes and tells me she would call me back. But I get a text to say there was an accident with a toy truck and a jug of OJ, she would call me back later in the evening when everything was settled.

I throw my phone down on my bed and sit on the edge in my robe, I’d just come out of the shower to my sister’s call. I was over the moon for her, but it was times like these I felt like an awful person. Because as I think about her happy news, I put my hand to my own belly and imagine what it would’ve been like to be the one calling family with good news. The familiar ache in my chest comes back, once upon a time I did have good news for a short period of time.

It was a few months before Harry and I split, I’d skipped a period and went immediately to the pharmacy. I’d decided to wait for a week before I would tell Harry because he was stressed from work. He was always stressed at that job, but I wanted it to be perfect. I’d spent the whole week stopping by nursery stores, browsing baby books, even buying a few onesies and the cutest booties I couldn’t put down. I picture the baby--mine and Harry’s, wearing them.

But the day I’d planned to tell him, I’d woken up and knew instantly something was wrong. I never told him, I fought with him that day instead...I couldn’t even remember over what. I held the awful burden on my own, packed the future I couldn’t have into a little box and shoved it under the bed. A few months later, Harry and I were over. That future was as fragile as the paper-thin wings of a butterfly, one that would never take flight.

I do what I did on my darkest days, I root underneath my bed and pull out the box.

I still had it; it was morbid, holding on to a future that was deader than dead. But I hold it in my lap, and run my hands over each piece of clothing. I imagine just for a moment what I could have had, they would’ve been 3 and I would’ve been a mum. My chest tightens, and I squeeze the items closer.

H’s POV:

By the time I get to Y/N’s, I’d stress-sang so many 90s hits that most of my nervous energy had streamed out the car window. I gather myself, clear my hoarse throat, and knock; ready to be beheaded. When there’s no answer, my nerves return. I knock louder, and try to peer through the frosty window.

“Harry?” Y/N opens the door in a flourish, looking fresh from a shower. I try to block the visuals that spring to mind, my mind blanking as I try to remember what I had to say. “Hello? Harry? Why are you here?”

“Uhm,” I shake my head. “Urgent business--the evidence I gave you on Monday, please tell me you still have it?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “You’re knocking on my door at nearly 7 for evidence you returned to me?”

“It’s urgent,” I look around out of habit. “Y/N, we may have accidentally given you something with the evidence we were meant to keep--please I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I’m not messing with you, this is my head on the chopping block--I need to know if you have it.”

“For fuck’s sake Harry,” she opens the door wider. “Just...come in.”

“You have it?” I step in eagerly and close the door behind me, basking in the warmth inside. It was a chilly spring evening.

“I haven’t touched it since I brought it home, I threw it somewhere in my room.”

“Didn’t it...have your employees’ personal items in it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s not like they’re eager to have reminders of that day!” she snaps and I back down. She turns in a flourish of her robes and walks upstairs. She doesn’t say anything so I follow her up, drinking in every detail I can about her new life as we pass through.

She’s headed into her bedroom when her phone buzzes. I recognize her sister from the contact photo that takes up the screen. She glances at me, and back at the phone, making a decision.

“It’s beside the dresser, don’t make a sound or my sister will come here in record time to rip your head off.”

“I take it she doesn’t like me,” I try to joke.

“She’s not the only Y/L/N sister that doesn’t like you,” she puts a finger to her mouth and takes the call into the other room.

Maybe I should stop cracking jokes with Y/N, I think. It was clear she still hadn’t forgiven me. I was surprised she still held on as vehemently all these years later.

I head into her bedroom, a tidy and plain room. Compared to what I’d seen of her main floor, her bedroom looked like it belonged in a hotel. I spot the box almost immediately resting between a laundry hamper and her dresser. I pick it up but on the way back, the box on her bed catches my attention. The lid is half on, and I know I shouldn’t but something almost possesses my hand to nudge the lid aside. I stare and what’s inside the box sends me reeling; like I was seasick, but with both feet firmly on the ground. The feeling punches me directly into a past I’d abandoned. A future I abandoned too.

When Y/N finds me a few minutes later, I’m holding the shoes from the box in my hands. She stops beside me. I look to her and her face is frozen in fear, before it shuts down into anger--no, fury.

“What the fuck are you doing going through that?” she snatches the shoes out of my hand and picks the box up.

“Y/N,” I say gently. “What...what is all this?”

“Did you find your stupid box? Just--” her eyes search the room frantically and settles on the evidence box on the bed. She picks it up and shoves it into my chest. “Take it and go Harry, I don’t want t-to talk. To you. Please just--” her voice breaks.

“Okay I’ll go I just...” my heart feels heavier than lead and I want to say the perfect thing to her but nothing comes out. When she shoves me I scuttle out. I hear the sob that escapes her as soon as I exit into the hallway, I almost turn to go back in and offer comfort. But I couldn’t comfort her, not since the day I gave up on her. I walk to my car, not even relieved to have the evidence. I don’t know how long I sit in the car and think about the contents of that box: folded in neat piles were baby onesies, bibs, and a pair of tiny shoes. Remnants from a broken past, a broken promise.

I wasn’t an idiot, and I wasn’t heartless despite what Y/N thought. I know what my selfish actions did to her, I know how I’d fucked her up without meaning to. But it’s only now that the weight of it settles entirely on my shoulders. How many years has it been, and that small box of new onesies stayed under her bed. Her room might’ve looked sterile and fresh but its corners held heavier burdens than I thought were possible. A new feeling of shame blooms from within me, and it stays like a bad aftertaste.

***Y/N POV:

I was going to read that letter, find my closure, and burn everything from my past ceremonially in a bonfire, I think as I watch the trees in my backyard rustle with the morning wind. It had been a few days but I couldn’t even focus on him finding that box, the humiliation of watching him look up at me with confusion and pity...it was enough he’d broken my heart, but now he felt sorry for me too. I focus back on the greenery while my fingers toy with the letter that’d come in the mail, a few years late.

The envelope looked worse for wear but it was still as sealed as the day Harry had written it. I hesitate, trace my fingers over my name on the front. A memory comes rushing to me, Harry in my dorm writing silly things on my post-its and sticking it in places I wouldn’t find until he’d left. Like under my covers, or inside my closet door. They would be silly like

Y/N smells like farts

or cheesy like

have a terrific day

. I usually tossed them, other I’d tucked between classroom textbooks. I wonder what happened to them.

Finally, I work up the courage to slide my finger under the seal and break it open. Two pages fall out, his distinct writing halfway between cursive and chicken scratch covers both pages. I read:

Y/N

You’re probably wondering why you’re reading this--I don’t think I deserve your consideration for even a moment let alone for enough time it will take for you to read this. Yet I want so badly for you to read this, to just know I didn’t mean for this to happen to us. And I know you think I’m the one who did it to us, but I need to explain.

You always told me I was good with my words, that maybe I was an artist in another life--a poet you liked to say. But every time I try to find the right words to say to you, English may as well not be my first language. I should have tried harder, should have found the right words for months but I kept putting it off until it was too late.

You are and will always be my best friend first, Y/N, I know I’ve broken your trust but I care about you deeply. I just wasn’t happy. And that had to do with the road we were going down together, not you. I’m deeply sorry for the words I said that day, for how I’ve made you feel these last few months. I guess, ultimately, I was being selfish. And I don’t have an excuse for that. I fucked this up but I wasn’t happy and I was taking it out on you, and on us. I used the things we couldn’t have as an excuse, but I’m not happy where I am in my life. And that’s something I need to find; I need to figure out what I really want.

I can only hope we’ll circle back to each other one day, in the future, when we’re in better places. But I don’t think we were right like this, maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe there’s a blanket over us much too heavy for us to find comfort under. I’m sorry for leaving us like this and for breaking your trust but I need to do this.

Know you’re perfect as you are, right now, there’s absolutely nothing about you I would ever change. I, on the other hand, have a lot of changing to do.

I wish you nothing but the best, you deserve the whole bloody world Y/N, but I don’t think I can give that to you. I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For now, know I love you and I’m truly sorry.

Harry, xx

My finger brushes over the last line, I take myself back to the Y/N and Harry four years ago--and it’s not so hard to do. I lived there more often than I’d like to admit. But I picture us, I picture Harry sitting down to write this. How might I have taken this if I read it all those years ago? I picture myself dissolving into tears--maybe my sister was right in not showing me.

I also imagine I would have known why, and maybe I wouldn’t be where I was right now if I’d had that closure.

But even all these years later, the tears stream down my face as if it were just yesterday Harry handed the letter over to my protective sister. There was so much hurt and heaviness, looking at it from the perspective I had now...I see a glimmer of truth in Harry’s letter. We’d worked wonderfully as best friends, and our intimacy was comforting. But we were also two people being pulled in two directions while clinging onto what we thought would keep us happy. It didn’t mean I forgave him for what he did, how he did it. But I finally understood why.

All this time, I asked why--I wondered if there was something I could’ve done to have fixed it before he left. I see now, he’d wanted an out the whole time. Nothing would have fixed us except time apart. I still felt like shit, but this epiphany made me feel closer to the closure I needed. The light on the horizon grows a little brighter. We’d just had bad timing.

***

I feel bright and chipper Monday morning; a sunny morning and a weekend of closure could do that to a woman. I bring along with me a box of treats; it had been a week since the horrible robbery. We’d put some precautions in since, had the therapist stay a few more days, a few of the employees decided to transfer and as sad as I was to see them go I knew it was the right thing for them to do to feel better. As for myself, I forgot about it most of the time. But it would creep in every so often and freeze me up.

I spoke to the company’s therapist once more after Monday, she’d asked about Harry and I had told her about the letter. She was intrigued but quickly changed the topic to how I was feeling after the events of last Thursday.

“Y/N?” Adam walks into the staff room as I finish the note to accompany the treats. “What’s all this?”

“Treats to cheer everyone up! Not that sweet fried dough is going to erase everyone’s PTSD...” I try to make a joke but Adam’s face is tense like it’d been since that day. “Adam I’m teasing...have you um, have you talked to someone one-on-one?”

“Me? Why?” He jumps. “I’m fine, I’m alright it’s mostly out of my head anyway.”

“Hm,” I look him up and down. “I don’t believe you but I’ll let it drop...for now.”

He fidgets with his hands, “Anyway I came in here to let you know the detective on the case called first thing about returning some evidence-”

“I can’t pick that up.” I say finitely. “Do you have room today? Maybe take an extended lunch and pick that up?”

“From the station?” he stutters.

“Is that where he said it was?”

“Uh yeah, yes. He wanted you to pick it up.”

“Well DCI Styles won’t get what he wants for once, you’ll pick it up at lunch okay? Just keep me posted.”

I go back to my office with a coffee and get a crack on with my work. I check for any updates on the client from last Thursday but I continue to receive the automated email that their office was closed for the week. It was weird, but I just make a note to follow up later on.

After lunch, Adam appears shaken, with the evidence. I instruct him to leave it in the staff room and send out an email, making sure to remind them that they didn’t have to go through it if they didn’t want to. I would keep it there until it was cleared out, even if that took the month. I think about my scarf in there, the one used to tie my hands. I wanted to burn it, never see it again. I send Adam a quick email to remove it from the box and dispose of it.

H’s POV:

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” I comb my fingers through my hair, as if it might trick my brain into seeing the pattern here. “This same group’s hit four places total, and yet Y/N...the HSBC was the first. There’s got to be a connection there, it’s here but I just can’t see it.”

“Harry,” Detective Cole puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving it away. “Maybe you need a break, I don’t think I’ve seen you go home the last few days and your shirt’s a bit...ripe. Maybe take the rest of the day off?”

I sniff myself, she was right. She shrugs with a I had to say it look.

She was right too that I hadn’t gone home. I did almost nothing but focus on this case, not only because it was growing bigger by the day and I had pressure from upstairs. But it was a welcome distraction to the new guilt that seemed to jam every other area of my life.

It was almost like I was reliving a timeline, going back three or so years ago. It felt like Y/N and I were freshly broken up, and I was trying to pick myself back up from it. Except that’s not the way it went all those years ago--I’d moved on, quickly then. But now, time was catching up. Or maybe it was karma.

“Earth to Harry?” Cole waves her hand in front of my face. “You really should go home.”

“Yep,” I scratch my stubble. I should shave too. “I’ll just drop by evidence before I go.”

She looks like she was going to say something but she gets up from the chair beside my desk, and walks back to her own. I sigh, sifting through the files on my desk to take home with me. My notepad underneath shifts and I spot Y/N’s familiar writing: Y/N was here. I run my finger over it and smile, remembering how she had written that on the baseboard of every flat or dorm room we’d left. And just like that, the guilt and shame take the memory’s place. How the fuck was I supposed get past this and focus, I think.

I shove my files into a bag and head out. Evidence tells me there wasn’t a lot on the sim card but they were still trying. I ask for an email if anything comes to light, and go home where I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

i meant to take a short nap, but I wake at 4am and my mind’s buzzing with so many thoughts that I have nothing else to do but get up, eat a mashup of breakfast and last night’s dinner. With nothing more to do, and 6am creeping up, I decide to get in my car and drive while the roads were somewhat clear.

Driving helped me think sometimes, on my worst case after my promotion, I’d gotten on the road one night and driven all the way to Leicaster. After a night’s rest in a hotel and the drive back home, I’d cracked the case. But this time, with my thoughts racing, I end up driving to Y/N neighbourhood on autopilot. Maybe because she was on my mind, the guilt a constant companion since that day.

I park on the other side of her street, and watch her front door from the rearview. I don’t know why I was there, it felt ridiculous and creepy. Yet, I couldn’t leave. Maybe I could offer her a ride to work, I think. But I know she would decline because she didn’t even come in herself to collect her evidence. She’d sent her awkward assistant instead.

Her door suddenly opens, and a strange man walks out. She leans on the doorframe and laughs at something he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek and walks away. She shouts something after him and he turns, saying something back that gets her laughing. My heart races, seeing her face in the distance wrinkle with laughter. I remember all the times I could get her to do that, effortlessly. The guilt returns tenfold.

He adjusts his coat, turning back around and she watches him fondly for a few seconds longer before closing her door. I’m suddenly irritated, immediately suspicious of this bloke. I watch, unblinking, until he turns the corner out of sight. Who was he? Her boyfriend?

I look at the time on the dashboard, 7:08am. I sit, indecisive for another half an hour. My thoughts churn: the robberies, the motives, Y/N, the worn out box with baby clothes, her male guest who’d spent the night, the look on her face when she’d woken up after her concussion and saw me: disbelief, anger, and sadness.

I get out of the stuffy car and walk across the street where I hesitate outside her door. I knew I was crossing a line, pushing a boundary she put up by not picking up the evidence herself. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I never denied that I was a selfish bastard. I raise my hand, and knock.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s R&S - Minor’s Memos

🍒This R&S (韩野的备忘录) is part of the Dream Heart Lake event which has not been released in EN🍒

More r&s from the event: 

> minor’s memos ♡

> tilted time

> little bro’s self-cultivatiion

> ashes

[ Chapter 1 ]

The First Memo

I was beaten up.

This morning, I was especially courageous and pasted a "Evil Spirit Begone" challenge letter on the school bully’s lunchbox. But I didn’t stop myself and pasted too many. The other party brought five people and cornered me in a small alley. I straightened my back, but felt a chill. What happened in the end were the four words I started off with... I was beaten up. With a bloody nose and a swollen face, I suddenly felt that there truly weren’t any heroes in this era... Even an ardent youth like me had to face such tribulation...

Suddenly, a pair of white sneakers stood before my eyes. Lifting my red and swollen eyes with difficulty, all I saw was an icy outline. He reached out to grab the neck of one of the school bullies, and had a sharp look in his eyes!

Oh my... It was actually Se! Nior! Ga! Vin!

Today, I finally witnessed what was a true 1 v 5 looked like. Gavin blew the dust off his hands, lowering his eyes and giving me a glance before leaving. Quick-wittedly, I tugged on the bottom of his trouser leg.

Senior turned out to be just as cold and indifferent as the legends said. During the entire process, he only said one word - “Scram”.

He’s such a MAN!

Hence, there’s a small goal in my heart. I want to learn the supreme feat of Senior’s 1 v 5!

-

The Second Memo

I looked for Senior many times, but was mercilessly ignored by him... He was either wholly absorbed in drinking water, or wholly absorbed in sleeping... I decided that I had to take the initiative! So, I came up with a plan to perfectly understand Senior.

Cough cough.

With this, I started embarking on the dull and dry life of “tracking” Senior. At 7.30am, Senior would appear at the school gate punctually, carrying a flat schoolbag. I don’t know if there are any books in it... Forget it, is that the main point? Nope!

After Senior reaches school, the first thing he does is head to the small kiosk in the north to! Buy! Breakfast! Does he actually lead such an ordinary life too? I even thought an existence like Senior’s should be above worldly affairs, and that he wouldn’t eat the food of common mortals! Hey hey hey! It seems that Senior really likes to eat fishballs? He’s been eating them for three consecutive days!!! Isn’t it good to change it to something else?!!!

During class, I deliberately went around the upper levels where the Year 3 seniors were, pretentiously passing by Senior’s window. Of course, Senior typically wouldn’t appear in the classroom at all. But!!! He was here today!!!!

As expected, he was assigned to sit in the last row, and was sleeping without restraint...

Did nobody care?! Wait, why am I feeling envious?

After school, Senior walked around, and I had no idea where he was headed to. Finally, he walked into the library. I couldn’t help but think - Senior really lives life as he pleases...

Huh? Hang on! Why would the Underworld Senior go to the library?!

He not only went to the library, but the thing which startled me even more till my jaw dropped was - I saw Senior helping the prettiest girl in class retrieve a book from the shelf!

He even... s-smiled...

Had my vision gone blurry? This was the Underworld Senior who’s said to be cold, unruly, and scares girls away?!

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

The Third Memo

I was beaten up again...  Writing these words is truly lamentable... Why did I have to rescue that stupid, unsophisticated and immoral four-eyed boy? But isn’t that what a hero does? What this era needs is a hero like me!

...this era might also not need such a weak hero like me...

That’s what I thought when I was pressed against the ground and punched by a school bully. My conviction was about to collapse. All of a sudden, I recalled the sharp look in Senior Gavin’s eyes. It’d have been nice if he were around...

Perhaps God happened to hear my wish, and Senior descended from the sky! With a dashing left uppercut, the other party lay on the ground, and I was moved to tears. 

Senior asked, why do you keep causing trouble for yourself? I very righteously said that it’s because I wanted to be a hero, and couldn’t stand to see school bullies targeting the weak. Senior then said, don’t you know that they call me a school bully?

In my heart, I responded that I knew. But I shook my head very firmly. The look he was giving me suddenly had a hint of bewilderment added to it... like he was looking at a... hm? An idiot? ...

Senior is very difficult to understand. He even told me about what true heroism was, which went beyond the words I recognised from Senior. He actually said two sentences! I’ll note them down, I’ll note them down...

Who cares about him! From what I see, heroism is about rushing to the rescue when one sees injustice!

-

The Fourth Memo

Today, I! Was! A! Hero!

I was following Senior around secretly today, though I don’t know how many days it’s been, and encountered Senior being ambushed! Those guys were the school bullies who beat me up the last time! A total of ten people were there! Terrible! Tyranny of the majority! How could I, Minor, allow such a situation to happen!

Without much thought, I rushed forward to help Senior! Of course, I was beaten up yet again... but I discovered one of Senior’s nuclear abilities-

1 v 10! Too dashing, too dashing. I don’t think Superman, X-Men or Iron Man are as dashing! Senior is a god in my eyes!

But Senior was very cold. He said two words to me which left me utterly heartbroken: courting death.

Feeling wronged, I told him that I wasn’t courting death. This was what heroism meant to me. 

Senior scoffed, then told me not to follow him around sneakily in the future, because it was annoying.

What what what? Was my perfect “Understanding Plan” exposed since a long time ago?!

For some reason, I spoke up at this moment. “Senior, I saw you handing a book to the prettiest girl in class... Are you...”

Senior coughed, then covered his mouth with a hand... W-was he actually blushing!!!!? Oh my goodness - did I discover something disgraceful? Senior actually blushed! If I say it out loud, would I get silenced?!!

-

[ Chapter 3 ]

The Fifth Memo

On the first day of becoming Senior’s, oh wait - Bro Gavin’s little brother, hehe, made me feel like I was suddenly floating. Today, I finally walked beside him in broad daylight, and felt as if a gust of wind was blowing past while walking hahahaha! I saw people looking me with that gaze! That~ Gaze~

But I never expected Bro Gavin to be so strict... All I did was mention casually that someone gave the prettiest girl in class a love letter again, and Bro Gavin suddenly got angry, and asked me to grab those people over.

Catching people is really tiring. I had to run to several classrooms, and it was really annoying to move personnel. In the future, I definitely wouldn’t do such work.

Bro Gavin glanced at them and didn’t say anything. Was I supposed to save the show?? After recalling how teachers typically lecture me, I copied them wholesale and gave them a lecture: At this young age, they should concentrate on their studies instead of fooling around.

[Note] I translated “copied them wholesale” from “原封不动”, which literally translated to “not touching the original envelope”. This is a beautiful choice of idiom because that’s exactly what Minor did later on LOL T^T

Seeing the fear and trepidation in their eyes, I became even more excited.

While I was lecturing them happily, Bro Gavin walked over and only said one thing: Get the love letters back. If you scare her, don’t blame me for being difficult.

Wow, Bro Gavin is so cool! Come to think of it, did I discover a little secret that I shouldn’t be aware of? For example, that Bro Gavin’s feelings towards the prettiest girl in class are actually..

-

The Sixth Memo

I think Bro Gavin is most likely, indeed, and definitely in love. Recently, I became Bro Gavin’s private detective, specialising in focusing on the prettiest girl in class. Maybe next time, I should change the way I address the prettiest girl in class to “Sis-in-law”... Well, since the ancient times, heroes have always loved beauties!

As of now, Bro Gavin isn’t really Bro Gavin anymore -

He hangs out in the library every day. If you want to know where Bro Gavin is, all you have to do is ask where the prettiest girl in class is... He no longer fights, no longer goes to the sports field, and no longer plays ball games anymore. He’s like a salted fish which has lost its dreams. And he actually started reading “5 Years of College Examinations and 3 Years of Sample Questions”... I just want to cry.

[Note] “5 Years of College Examinations and 3 Years of Sample Questions” (”5年高考3年模拟”) is a supplementary book for college entrance examinations used in China!

At noon, we had a PE class together, and I excitedly told Bro Gavin that Sis-in-law had chosen basketball! I initially thought Bro Gavin would snatch up a territory to play basketball. In the end, Bro Gavin hauled me over to the nearby volleyball court...

He said that it was a good place.

Good? What’s good about it? My basketball... I still wanted to display my coolness!

Afterwards, I found out that, tsk tsk, Bro Gavin was truly very sly...

The volleyball court was actually even closer to Sis-in-law’s location as compared to other basketball courts!

When I almost accidentally smashed the ball on Sis-in-law’s head, it was blocked by Bro Gavin, who was far away... How did Bro Gavin do it?!

He actually ran diagonally across the volleyball court so quickly?!!! Does he have some special ability? Will it appear!

But Bro Gavin isn’t attuned to flirtatious expressions at all...

[Note] I translated “flirtatious expressions” from the term “风情”, which literally translates to “information about the wind”

When Sis-in-law thanked him, his face was even colder than when he’s facing me... And when I “accidentally” pushed Sis-in-law onto Bro Gavin! He actually gave me a merciless killer glare. Just thinking about it makes my heart feel pained...

He didn’t recognise my good intentions, sob sob sob sob.

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

The Seventh Memo

Today, I saw another side of Bro Gavin! That is - the Bro Gavin at the sports meet! He’s such a MAN!!!

In the ten-lap long-distance race in the sports field, Bro Gavin won the first place, leaving the second place runner far behind him by three laps. He didn’t even pant!

What kind of supreme feat is this? Before, I used to think that he was only super capable in fighting. Looks like there are many other things I have to learn from Bro Gavin!

It was only today when I realised that although Bro Gavin is so fierce and is always called an Underworld Senior, he seems to be really popular, based on how the female students looked as if they were about to glue their eyes onto Bro Gavin’s body -

Ah, I just want to “tsk tsk”.

Bro Gavin seemed to be in a good mood, but when I asked him to teach me 1 v 10, he assigned me to work as a private detective again...

He was very concerned about Sis-in-law’s sprint. Perhaps he’s a tsundere or something, so he didn’t go himself, and insisted that I went instead. He even tossed his phone to me.

What’s that supposed to mean? His phone? Did he mean that I should sneak pictures? Am I, Minor, such a person?

I called out to Sis-in-law. She turned her head, and I managed to secretly photograph an utterly beautiful side profile. It looked really good. This time, Bro Gavin would definitely teach me 1 v 10, right?

In the end, he! Did! Not!

Bro Gavin is someone who values a lover more than his little bro!

What can I say? I had no choice but to squat at the side and watch Bro Gavin staring at the picture on his phone, occasionally revealing an unusual smile... 

Oh my, Bro Gavin smiled again!!!! It makes me feel frightened!!!!

Love makes people lose their minds!!!

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

The Eighth Memo

Bro Gavin looks very low-spirited recently. If he was a salted fish with no dreams before, then I reckon that right now, he’s not even a salted fish... He seems to have fallen in love with being in a daze lately.

After being in a daze in the piano room, he’d be in a daze in the library, continuously staring at the empty seat where Sis-in-law used to sit, and I have no idea what he’s thinking about. 

But I really didn't expect a person who sleeps in class to be in a daze in the library for an entire afternoon... Did Bro Gavin and Sis-in-law have a fight recently?

Very curious, I asked around, and found out that for some reason, Sis-in-law has been hurrying off after school, and no longer goes to the library nor the piano room. I also heard that she’s been doing her revision for exams at home... Could it be that she’s hiding from Bro Gavin?

Oh my god, why don’t I write an eight o'clock soap opera with such an imagination? It might even become popular!

Returning to the original topic... should I tell Bro Gavin about this? If Bro Gavin also thinks that Sis-in-law is hiding from him, he might be heartbroken.

I’m worried...

-

The Ninth Memo

Bro Gavin disappeared for quite a long time, and finally returned today! But he brought with him a body full of injuries, and it’s very worrying because I didn’t know what happened! He also stuffed a letter to me, saying that it was for Sis-in-law. Even though the envelope was flat and smooth, it had a lot of blood stains.

Did Bro Gavin do something dangerous? He bled so much! I asked him to go to the hospital but he refused... Bro Gavin is truly too wilful!

But he is really different today. Why do I feel like I’m handling funeral arrangements? Touch wood!

He also said that he’d teach me 1 v 10 when he we meet again... Wow! If Bro Gavin wasn’t hurt, I’d have wanted to pounce on him and give him a peck! Bro Gavin is the most dashing! Bro Gavin is the coolest!

Come to think of it, Bro Gavin is about to take the college entrance examinations, and the seniors from the graduating classes have been pretty sad recently. The next meeting Bro Gavin mentioned was probably summer vacation? Hehe, I’m looking forward to it a little!

In that case, while Bro Gavin isn’t around, I’ll be the one to help Sis-in-law block off all the rotten apples!

Other men, don’t even think of approaching my Sis-in-law!

She! Is! Bro! Gavin’s!

-

The Final Memo

During the entire summer vacation... I didn't see Bro Gavin...

More from the Dream Heart Lake event: here

[13-reasons-ideas]

So I have this idea, You know how people want/like things they can’t have, MontyxOC have always had this friendship that bordered on something more but it never got there. She gets a boyfriend, Monty starts avoiding her majorly & their friendship crumbles until one night he shows up at her door & lays his cards out, they have a heated argument but then it turned into into something else quite heated😘 and as bad as it was that she cheated she doesn’t regret it, he’s all she’s ever wanted anyway

Why Didn’t You Say Anything? 

A/N: contains SMUT. DNI if under 18. 18+ ONLY. Trigger warning: rough CONSENSUAL sex. I hope you like this. I’m sorry it took WAY too long to get around to finishing but I was having a lot of issues finding inspiration for requests. I’ve found it again though so expect more to come. As always, I love feedback and much love. - Em

Montgomery and I had been friends since… well since forever. As long as I could remember anyway. He was a quiet kid. Kept to himself for the most part when we were younger. I wouldn’t come to find out why exactly that was until much later on in our friendship. We bonded over a love of the same candy. It sounds stupid thinking back on it now, but at the time we were just kids. We didn’t really know how to have interests yet.

Eventually, as we got older and we developed our things, we found that even though our interests didn’t really match the way people thought they should-I was a novice musician, he was on his way to being a star athlete- we bonded over our passion and drive for our respective things. He would come over to my house and watch me teach myself to play guitar, play piano, or sing. I would meet him in the park and play catch when he discovered a love of baseball. Or when we started middle school and he would try to teach me how to throw a football. That… never went very well. But he was pretty good at catching it regardless as it turned out, so it worked out in the end.

Our friendship started to change around middle school too. It wasn’t noticeable at first. He started spending more and more time at my place. By then I had learned what his father was like behind closed doors. That had been an interesting phone call to my mom to come get me. Our conversations became even longer and more personal. We talked about our hopes and dreams. Where we wanted to end up when we were finally adults. The running thing was that no matter what we wanted to be when we grew up that week, we were always staples in each other’s futures. I started to seek him out at lunch more. I felt this desire to be near him that I couldn’t explain. Or maybe I could, and I just didn’t want to, for fear of being rejected and losing my best friend.

In high school, when we made different friends and traveled in different circles, we were still best friends. We had always been basically inseparable. Montgomery and Juliette. Julie and Monty. Where you saw one of us, you usually found the other. I waited for him after football and baseball tryouts and my dad made waffles for dinner when he made the team. There was a seat basically reserved for me at games since freshman year. I only missed two games in three and a half years. Once when I had strep throat in sophomore year and once when my uncle died last year. Monty didn’t want to go to that week’s game. I told him if he didn’t, I would never play piano for him again. For his part, Monty sat through countless hours of me learning songs or listening to tons of voice memos while I was writing my own. He was at every one of my gigs, no matter how big or small. It didn’t matter if there was ten people or a hundred people, he was always there, sitting in the first or second row. Even Bryce Walker couldn’t come between us.

I couldn’t help but feel like there was something more than friendship between us. I was still too afraid of rejection to say anything and he never said anything either. Other people had always made comments about our friendship and how close we were. But we both just laughed it off and attributed it to people not understanding that guys and girls could just be friends. When we were in junior year and it became clear to me that the feelings I had ignored and buried for so long, weren’t reciprocated, I decided it was time to move on. There was no point in pining after someone who didn’t want me back. And as luck would have it, the perfect person to get my mind off of my best friend had just moved to town and was assigned as my chemistry lab partner.

Parker Johnston was an average height, thin but lean, young man from Ohio. He had shaggy blond hair and cobalt blue eyes. He came from a stable, well off family, but he wasn’t a show-off about it. His parents were mortgage brokers who wanted to work in, but not live in the city. Essentially, he was everything Montgomery de la Cruz… wasn’t. He did still like sports though. They have that to bond over. I thought after my first conversation with him after chemistry. I invited him to have lunch with us. The guys on the football team liked him. Even Monty was nice to him. Though, at that point, none of us knew what would become of Parker and I hanging out.

**

“I don’t know Monty. We are just going for burgers at Rosie’s. It’s not like I’m going to marry the guy.” I was on the phone with Monty while I got ready for my first date with Parker. We had been hanging out as friends for seven months or so. Over the summer, we had connected more and found we had more than just a mutual dislike of our chemistry teacher in common.

“Well, what do you think will happen?”

“On our date? Or are you asking if I’ve thought far enough ahead to actually consider if we are getting married? Because I haven’t thought further ahead than my math test next Friday.”

“On your date.”

“I think I will have my usual cheeseburger with pink lemonade, and we will talk. Maybe split a milkshake for dessert. Green or grey shirt?”

“Is it the green with polka dots?”

“No, the plain army green one.”

“Grey. The green one gives you too much cleavage. A cheeseburger and lemonade? That’s it?”  

“He’s seen me in the green one before, and no it doesn’t, but whatever. Yes Monty. That’s it. Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“I don’t. Just want to know what you’re planning. Make sure you’re safe.” I rolled my eyes.

“Well, I appreciate your concern.”

“Anytime. Are you coming to the game on Friday? It’s our second home game. First game of October. You know how you love fall games.”

“Of course, I’m coming. It’s not like I have a choice anymore, you guys are stuck with me.” I joked.

“Haha very funny Julie.”

“I try. Hey, listen. I gotta go. Parker will be here soon. I’ll call you when I get home.”

Our first date was going great. We had been to Rosie’s before together, but it was different now that we were on a date. We were there for hours, just sitting and talking to each other. Monty texted me around eight, just to check in. You still out or do I need to call the cops?

I’m still here. All good. He left me on read. I assumed it was because I was still out. “Everything okay?” Parker asked when he got back from the bathroom.

“Oh, yeah. Just Monty checking in.”

“Fair, fair. I guess that’s my cue to take you home for the night?”

“I suppose so.” Even though we had verbalized the need to leave, neither of us moved to leave.

“One more order of fries?”

“Yes.” After our last order, Parker drove me home and I called Monty to spill all the details as I got ready for bed.

The following Friday, Parker and I went to the game together. It was the first time we were going together just the two of us, and not with a group of friends.  As far as high school football games go, this one was pretty standard. We held hands through most of it. Bryce’s parents were out of town again, so he was having a “we lost but I have money so let’s all get wasted” party. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot? Or did you want to just meet at Bryce’s place? I have to go talk to Monty.”

“We can meet at his place if you want.” He looked confused.

“It’s tradition. I always wait for him. I have since freshman year.”

“Oh, okay then. I’ll see you at Bryce’s place Jules.” He kissed me. I smiled into it before pulling away. I watched him turn and walk down the bleacher steps and turn towards the parking lot before running off to find Monty.

I spotted him talking to Luke and Scott. His back was turned to me. They saw me coming but didn’t react. They know me so well now. They know exactly what is coming. I smiled playfully before wrapping my arms around Monty’s waist tightly. He laughed and pried my hands off of him, before turning around and lifting me up in a hug. I didn’t even complain about the sweat. “You know that doesn’t surprise me anymore Julie.”

“I know. But it’s fun.” He was still holding me. “Are you going to like… put me down at some point?”

He turned back around to face Luke and Scott. They were shaking their heads, grinning. “Nah.” He decided.

“Well. I don’t need to see inside the boy’s locker room so you put me down outside.”

“What, you mean you don’t want to see a whole lot of Brycey’s pasty white ass?” Luke teased.

“No. No I do not. Every day I don’t see that is a good day for me. And since you are hell bent on carrying me, can I at least be comfortable? My legs are just dangling here.” Monty stopped walking so I could wrap my legs around his waist like a backwards piggyback ride. His hands went under my thighs to support my weight.

Thankfully, he put me down outside the boy’s locker room. I played around on my phone while I waited for him. “You know, I smell like sweat now.” I said when he came out, freshly showered and changed. He shook his head and smirked.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.”

“Dude. I smell like your sweat.” He rolled his eyes and stopped to dig around in his bag. He pulled out one of my t-shirts. It was a little wrinkled but still presentable. I took it when he handed it to me. “Thank you. I’ve been looking for this. How long have you had it?”

“A while.” He shrugged. I ran into the girl’s room to change. I handed him my other shirt.

“Since it’s your sweat, you can wash it.”

“You know, you never used to complain about smelling like sweat after a game.”

“Well, I didn’t have a boyfriend who would care then.”

“Juliette, you didn’t have boyfriend period.”

“You say like you’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Oh, shut up.” He pushed me playfully.

“You know. How the hell did we get to our senior year of high school and neither one of us has actually dated anyone? Tyler Down has been on dates.”

“You’ve been on dates before.”

“Yeah. but it was never anything worth getting past the end of date three. And I wouldn’t call what happens in bedrooms or bathrooms at parties, dating. You’ve been on dates too.”

“I mean, sure. But they weren’t serious.” We had made it to the parking lot now. “I’ll see you at Bryce’s?”

“Yeah. I’m meeting Parker there.”

“Awesome.” I hugged him again before sprinting to my car.

The party was in full swing by the time I arrived. I had run to Walplex to grab a bottle of Advil on the way. Monty’s Jeep was parked out front and I spotted Parker’s Ram was parked up the road a little ways. I parked in an open spot and made my way past the people milling in the front. “Julie!” Bryce called, raising his beer in my direction.

“Bryce!”

“Hey Monty, your girl is here.”

“Not my girl Bryce.” Monty laughed as he handed me a drink.

“How many has he had already?” I whispered.

“Two.” I blinked slowly.

“So, is this Bryce in a good mood?”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

“Hey Jules.” Parker snaked his arms around my waist and kissed my head. “Hey Monty.”

“Hey. Parker.”

“Oh, shit you’re right. She’s his girl now.”

“Fuck off Bryce.” I teased. Monty was looking at Parker and I with his brow furrowed. I mouthed later to him.

The three of us moved through the party easily. Monty and Parker talked about the game. I tuned them out. I was too busy watching them. It was nice to see my boyfriend and my best friend getting along so well. Maybe that was why I never dated much before. I was scared they wouldn’t get along. Soon enough, Scott pulled Parker away to chat. “Go ahead. I’m good here with Monty.”

“You sure?” I nodded, placing my hand on his arm.

“Just don’t steal him for too long Reed.” I kissed him on the cheek. Scott nodded. When they were out of earshot, Monty spoke.

“You didn’t tell him you hate being called Jules?”

“It’s cute when he does it.”

“Julie. I saw your face when he said it. Your eye twitched.”

“Muscle spasm.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” I caught Scott’s eye from across the room. He nodded slightly to me. I took that to mean I should hear what they were talking about.

“Oh, would you look at that. My cup is empty. Time for another drink. Refill?” I took his cup anyway and he followed me into the kitchen.

While I was refilling our cups, Monty’s with beer and mine with a Crown and Sprite, I listened in on their conversation. Monty tried to hide it but I knew he was listening too. We whispered nothings to each other to make it seem like we weren’t eavesdropping. “So what exactly is their relationship then?” Parker asked. He’s asking about me and Monty.

“They’ve been best friends for as long as anyone can remember. There isn’t anything more to it.”

“They seem to spend a lot of time together.”

“Like I said, they’re best friends. And I don’t think I’m the person you need to be having this discussion with.”

“You know them best. Do I need to be concerned?”

“What? No, of course not. Look. She’s never really dated anyone before. It’s always just been the two of them. You have been seeing Julie for a week officially. It’s going to take some time for that relationship to change. Just leave it alone for now. And Monty is a good guy. He’s an asshole. But he’s a good guy. If he wanted to make a move, he wouldn’t do it now. Not knowing that she is in a relationship. You really should talk to Julie about this though.”

“I will. I just wanted to get a little bit of insight from someone else first. Thanks man.”

“No problem.”

Parker did that guy handshake thing with Scott and started walking in our direction. My eyes widened. Monty just smirked and mouthed math test to me.

“Anyway, yeah. That math test was totally brutal.”

“I’m sure you did great.”

“I’m literally eighty percent sure I failed. Mind you, so is everyone else.”

“I have it on Monday so thanks for the heads up. Oh, hey Parker.”

“Hey guys. What’s on Monday?”

“Math test that ruined my entire class.”

“Damn.” I put my arm around Parker’s waist and leaned into him.

Monty was scanning the room. To Parker, he was just looking at the crowd. But I was familiar with that look. He was on the hunt. I pulled Parker away discreetly so we could be alone and he could seem available. Monty nodded and smirked at us. Fuck off you little shit. I stuck my tongue out at him and Parker rolled his eyes. We managed to find a quiet corner that was unoccupied. “So, your drink is Crown and Sprite. You hate math. You don’t like chemistry. You like extra lettuce on your cheeseburger. We’ve been friends for months and I never really noticed any of that.”

“You like vodka in your iced tea. But your drink is whisky and Coke. You hate history. You also don’t like chemistry. You get tomatoes on the side of your burgers. I think you knew all of that about me. It just didn’t matter before.”

“That makes sense.” I laid my head on his shoulder and we sat together like that for a while. We were still getting used to the change in our relationship.

I looked up from my lap and caught Monty’s eye across the room. He had a girl in his sights. I nodded to him. He smiled, thinking no one else would see. The smile he reserved for me. Before he went to talk to whatever girl he would have under his spell and realistically, him in less than twenty minutes, he came over to us. “I’m probably going to be busy for the rest of the night, so will you make sure she gets home okay?”

“Yeah. No problem.” Monty turned to me and gave me a pleading look.

“Dude. Again? Seriously?”

“I didn’t have time to stop on the way over.” He shrugged, acting innocent.

“One of these days I won’t be here. Or I’ll leave my wallet at home. Or I won’t be carrying. What are you going to do then?”

“That isn’t a right now problem. Now do you, or don’t you?”

“I do. Calm down.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. Parker was watching our interaction with a puzzled look on his face. I pulled out the square silver packet and handed it to him. Monty accepted it gratefully.

“Thank you. You are a life saver.”

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning, Montgomery.”

“Never do, Juliette.”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“I make no promises.” I sighed deeply. Of course, you don’t. Monty waved at us again and ran off to go make a move on whatever girl it was this time.

I looked at Parker and he was staring at me with wide eyes. “What?”

“You carry condoms around for him?”

“No. I carry them around for me. And if he needs one, then I give it to him.”

“But why?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but he’s kind of a whore. He is my best friend, but the man is a whore. I’d rather give him a condom than take him to get tested or become a cool aunt. I’m too young for that.”

“What if you needed it?”

“Will I need it? Because I wasn’t exactly planning on needing it.”

“I don’t know. You never know.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I have a whole box at home anyway. I don’t plan on using any tonight though.”

“I wasn’t either.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can start carrying two. Also, I put a fresh one in my wallet every morning so it’s not like they’re sitting.” He only nodded in understanding. Monty was right. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night. He texted me later that he was crashing at Bryce’s.

A few weeks after that party, things with Monty and I were the same as they always were. Parker never brought up his conversation with Scott. I attributed it to seeing us around each other and Parker being comfortable with the status of our relationship. We were getting home from a coffee date. “My parents are working late if you want to come inside. My mom has a double at the hospital.”

“Sure.” He slipped his hand in my back pocket when I was unlocking the door. I blushed. Inside, I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter. He draped his coat over a chair and sat down. I was digging through the cabinets for a snack when he surprised me with a question.

“What’s going on with you and Monty?”

“Uh.” I paused because he caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just how you guys act with each other. I never noticed it before. Or I did and thought it would stop after we got together.”

“I don’t understand the question?”

“Do I need to be concerned about your relationship with him, Juliette?”

“No. Not at all. Monty is the last person you need to concern yourself with. It’s never been like that with us.”

“So, you just flirt with each other and finish each other’s sentences for no reason?”

“Okay, first of all, we do not flirt with each other. Second of all, we have been best friends since we were in elementary. Which means we know things about each other.” I was walking back to the table with a bowl of M&Ms. Placing it on the table, I sat in his lap gently. He wrapped his arms around me.

“You carry condoms around in your wallet and give him one whenever he wants.”

“I already told you why I carry them Parker.” I rested my head on his shoulder.

“You’re sure there’s never been anything between you guys?” Nothing reciprocated.

“I promise there has never anything between us. He really isn’t a concern that way Parker.” I kissed his neck softly. It was barely a brush of my lips against his skin.

“Do you still have that box?”

“Mhmmm.” He stood me up and grasped my hand.

“Lead the way Jules.”

The next day, I woke up alone. Parker had snuck out after a little bit of cuddling, so my parents didn’t find him here. I stared up at my ceiling for a few minutes. It was different with him. It means something. Maybe that’s what I needed to get Monty out of my system. Maybe it had to mean something. I groaned when my alarm went off again. Reluctantly, I got up and got ready to go to school. My dad had already left for work again. I texted Parker and Monty before I left. Stopping for coffee if you want anything.

Parker answered first. I’m good, thanks though babe.

Monty answered a few minutes later. Since you offered, my usual?

Gotcha. See you at school.

Coffees in hand, I pulled up to school. Parker was waiting for me just outside the parking lot. “Hey you.” He kissed me. We were walking to my locker when he saw the second coffee, he continued, “I said I didn’t want anything.”

“Oh. This isn’t for you. It’s for Monty.”

“Ah, yes.”

“We talked about this last night Park.”

“I know. That’s not all we did last night.” He muttered, leaning in to kiss my neck.

“Yeah. Last night was pretty great.” I smiled.

“What about last night?” Monty asked, scaring me a little.

“Jesus Monty. I need to buy you a bell or something. Why do you have to be the only guy at this school whose shoes don’t squeak?” I turned and stuck out his coffee.

“Parker’s don’t squeak.” I rolled my eyes. As though he could snese that I wanted to talk to Monty alone, he made a quick exit.

“I’ll catch you at lunch Jules.”

“Okay. Save some cheese for me.” Parker kissed me before walking away.

“So, what about last night?” Monty asked again after Parker left. I was quiet and blushed deeply. “Julie, what happened?”

“Homerun.”

“Shit. Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was good. Nice.”

“That… that’s great.” I didn’t notice the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes or that he stammered.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Uh, yeah. I have a couple of things to do for Coach, but I should be able to make at least a little bit of lunch.”

“Okay.”

I fully expected my relationship with Parker to change after that night. But I never expected that night would cause my relationship with Montgomery change too. It seemed like the closer I got to Parker the more distant Monty became. At first, it was little things. He had stuff to do with the guys or for sports stuff at lunches. Or he had things to do after practice. He wouldn’t stop to talk as long in the halls with me. If his dad was on another tear, I would find out about it the next day at school instead of that night. He brushed it off when I asked him about it. “I don’t want to seem like more of a burden. I have other places I can crash too,” he had said. For some reason, I believed him. I didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t the first time he had taken a break from always coming to my place. I didn’t think it would be the last time.

But then, as the days and weeks passed, our relationship became even more strained. He had stopped waiting for me after games. He had all but stopped talking to me at school. My texts were left on read for hours, whereas before, he would answer me within minutes. What had initially been dubbed a ‘break’ from seeking refuge at my house, had become a full out ending. One Monday, when I got to school his cheek was stitched closed. I stopped dead in my tracks and covered my mouth in shock. Upon closer inspection when I passed, it looked like it was stitched with sewing thread. Why didn’t he come to me? He knows my mom keeps a suture kit in the first aid kit. He all but looked through me when he caught me looking. If he saw me coming now, he walked in the other direction. For the first time, my best friend was literally all out ignoring me. I didn’t know what to do. So, I tried to do the same. If he wants to ignore me, then two can play at that game. We pretended the other person didn’t exist.

“Hey, are you okay?” Parker asked me when we were sitting on the couch watching tv.

“Yeah.” I was scrolling through my phone.

“You haven’t looked up from your phone for an entire episode.”

“Huh? Has it been that long?”

“Yes. What are you looking at?” I was scrolling through my texts with Montgomery. The last time we had texted each other was three weeks ago. Before then, the last time we went longer than two days not texting each other was when I was at summer camp and we weren’t allowed to have our phones for a week. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong or what made our relationship change. Parker took my phone from me and closed out of messages when he saw what I was looking at. “If he doesn’t want to talk to you because you have a boyfriend, that’s his problem.”

“That’s not why Parker.”

“How do you know?”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Would he?

“How do you know he wouldn’t, Jules?”

“We promised each other a long time ago that we wouldn’t be those people.”

“Those people?”

“The people who stopped talking when one of us got into a relationship. We promised.”

“Okay, well if you promised then I’m probably wrong.” He sounded skeptical.

“We promised.” I muttered. Parker pulled me closer and held me while I tried to focus on our show.

**

I was sitting cross legged on the couch playing I Almost Do on my guitar while I listened to the rain hitting the roof. The old Disney World sweatshirt I was wearing helped me to stay warm, even though the heat was on. As I finished the bridge, there was a knock at the door. I’m not expecting anyone. Maybe its Parker swinging by to keep me company. I set my guitar down on the coffee table and went to answer the door when there was another, more impatient knock. “I’m coming, keep your pants on.” I muttered under my breath. Yanking open the door I felt my jaw hit the floor. “Monty.” I breathed. He was soaked. His hair fell on his forehead and I could tell the flannel he wore was soaked through.

“Hey.” Was all he said. I blinked at him slowly. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah come in.” I said, moving out of the way while I tried to figure out what he was doing here. “Did you like… walk here or something?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

“No. Trust you not to wear a jacket in the pouring rain though.” He didn’t respond. He just looked around the living room. Okay. This isn’t weird and awkward at all. “What are you doing here Montgomery?”

“I thought about what I wanted to say to you the whole way here. And now that I’m here….”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have some stuff I need to say to you Julie.”

“Oh okay. Now you want to talk to me. Right.” I crossed my arms.

“Can you just let me say what I need to say?”

“Why? I mean, you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague for weeks Montgomery. Why should I listen to what you have to say?”

“Because it’s important Juliette.”

“Fine. Speak.” This better be good.

“I don’t know how to say this. I literally had this all planned out in my head on the way here.” He began. I remained silent. “I get that you’re mad at me for avoiding you, but I have reasons for it. And I need you to understand that it hasn’t been easy for me. You’re one of my closest friends.” I let out a dry, unamused laugh. Sure. You just avoid all of your friends. Totally normal behaviour for you. Monty sighed before continuing, “I couldn’t sit around and watch you with Parker. I tried. Believe me. I fucking tried. I tried being happy for you and I tried being friends with him. I tried to ignore everything in me that was screaming to just walk away. But I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to walk away for both of our sakes. It wasn’t fair to you for me to be half out of our friendship and it wasn’t fair to me to have to keep everything in. It wasn’t healthy.”

“So, you couldn’t be friends with me, or say anything about why you were suddenly shutting me out, because I have a boyfriend? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. And we promised we wouldn’t be those people.”

“Oh, for fucks-. No Juliette. I couldn’t be friends with you because I’ve been in love with you for four years.”

My eyes widened at his revelation and I felt the colour drain from my face. What? I couldn’t think of anything else to do except laugh. “Yeah, sure you are Monty. That’s rich.”

“You think I would joke about that? You know me Julie.”

“No. I think if you did love me, you would have had the balls to fucking say something about it before I got into a relationship. Or at the very least, to not act like a fuckin’ child when I did get into a relationship.”

“When exactly would I have told you? Somewhere between when you were worrying about your friends and when you were pining after Parker?”

“Yes. Parker and I were friends with each other for months before we started dating. At any of those times, you could have put on your big boy pants and fucking said something about how you felt.”

“That’s nice that you think that. Do you think I would walk halfway across town in the pouring rain for someone I wasn’t in love with? Seriously Juliette?”

“Maybe.” I replied. I was still angry with him, but he did have a point. “It doesn’t matter. You waited too long. I’m with Parker now.” He scoffed. I hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to me until now.

“Doesn’t matter? Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me you don’t feel the fluttering or the warmth when we are together. And then tell me that what you feel with Parker is anything close to that.”

“I-I-I….” I started, trying to meet his hardened gaze.

“You can’t can you?” My silence spoke volumes. “Tell me you don’t want this.” He whispered, as he caressed my cheek. I couldn’t tell him that. And I couldn’t pull away. I couldn’t do anything to stop him. For the first time, I had allowed myself to consider the feelings I had buried down deep for so long. I opened the box in my heart labeled danger, and damn it felt good. I reached up and tapped his arm quickly, twice. Our silent ‘okay’ signal when we couldn’t speak. He immediately kissed me hungrily and backed me against the nearest wall. My hands immediately went to his belt and began to tug at it, in a heated attempt to undo it. He nipped at my lip sharply and I growled lowly from the back of my throat. Giving up on the fickle strip of leather, I began to fight with his still wet shirt. The flannel stuck to the cotton of his t-shirt more and more with every tug. Abandoning the idea of removing them separately, I grabbed the bottom of his shirts together and pulled up harshly. All the while, his lips never left mine. The only time they did was to give me the space to pull off his tops. His eyes had darkened at least two shades as he stood in front of me. I felt my pupils dilate again as I reached out for him. He was on me in seconds. The feeling of him tugging at my sweater, now sightly damp from his clothes, as though I was a prize he couldn’t wait to tear into, stirred something inside of me. The primal aggressiveness and the slow burning, ever present tension of the situation making any consequences of our actions, seem totally irrelevant. He managed to remove my shirt with far fewer struggles than I did and began attacking my neck, leaving wet kisses and stinging nips down one side and then the other. Once again, I tried my hand at undoing his belt again. This time, I was able to. Quickly undoing it, I pulled it through the loops of his dark jeans and went for the button. He placed his hand on mine to stop me. I looked at him questioningly.

“What?” I asked, breathlessly.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in your living room.” He said, panting. I nodded in agreement and suddenly, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

“Monty!” I exclaimed, taken by surprise. He merely tightened his grip on my waist as he walked through the house to my room in the basement.

In my dark room, only illuminated by the dim pink-red glow of the salt lamp on my nightstand, he strode towards my bed and dropped me on my back. I reached out to him as he took a step back from the bed. “Get back here.” I demanded. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No. Nuh uh. I’ve waited far too long for this moment.” He smirked, devilishly. I groaned in displeasure at him. His smirk widened.

Deciding it was time to take matters into my own hands again, I sat up and slid off my bed. Taking my place on my knees in front of him, I reached up and undid the button and zipper on his jeans. He made no move to stop me as I dropped to my knees and pulled the denim harshly. They fell in a pool at his feet and I sat back on my heels as I stared at the bulge in his boxers. I growled lowly in the back of my throat and reached for the waistband of his boxers. Pulling them down, I watched his cock spring free and whined unconsciously. My movements were suddenly timid as I reached for it. It wasn’t my first time by any means. But it felt different this time. This time it was with Monty. And you have a boyfriend who isn’t Monty. Oh, shut up and let me enjoy this. I’ll deal with the consequences later. Grasping his thick, heavy cock in my hand, I stroked it softly. This was so wrong, yet it felt so wonderfully right.

My strokes changed as I gained more confidence and was able to push away any intrusive thoughts about Parker. They were faster and I tightened my grip slightly. Montgomery let out a sharp breath when my ring fingernail caught a bit of skin. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re excited. Just remember we have all night Julie.”

“I know.” His hips started to buck a little bit and my mouth began to water.

“We have plenty of time for that later.” I groaned a little. “Look at me.” I looked up at him through my lashes. “I promise you can after I fuck you into your mattress.” My eyes widened as big as saucers. We went from five to a hundred real quick. Fucking hot though.

Monty took my bicep in his hand to pull me up before pushing me back down on the bed roughly. I gasped in shock. I sat up on my elbows and watched him unbutton and rip open the zipper on my jeans. He pulled them down with a little help from me. He took a very brief second to admire my mint underwear before pulling them off and chucking them across my room. I sat up to undo and remove my pink bralette. A low growl came from deep in his chest when my breasts were out in the open and I was naked. His eyes scanned my body hungrily. My own dark eyes admired his naked body. I grabbed his arm to pull him down towards me.

“There is so much I want to do to you, but it will have to wait until later.” He whispered in my ear, biting at my earlobe. He bit and sucked his way down my neck, easily pulling loud moans out of me. There were sure to be marks all over my neck in the morning. Consequences be damned.

“Later, yes.” I panted. I could feel his hard length against my thigh. I rutted my hips against his. He kissed me passionately. When his hand trailed down my body, I knew his intentions. “No time. Just do it. Need it.” He stilled. The passion and tension were still in the air but there was a slight shift.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yes. Just be quick about it and it’ll be fine.” I stuck out my pinky. He linked his with mine.

“If you need me to stop and adjust, just say so.”

“I will.” I nodded, trying to edge him along. Just hurry the hell up and do it.

Monty straightened up and pulled my hips closer to the edge of the bed. I shut my eyes as he lined his cock up with my entrance. No matter how ready I was and how much I wanted it, it was still a reflex. I barely felt the tip, but I knew more was coming. He held my hands in his, interlocking our fingers as he pushed further. The stretch stung a little. He was bigger than Parker and without taking the time to prepare me, it burned slightly. I whimpered softly and he stilled immediately. Only about half was inside of me. “No, no keep going. Please.” I begged.

“I don’t want to hurt you Juliette.”

“Montgomery. I need you to do it. It hurts more if you stop. Please just do it. You can give me time to adjust after.” I told him seriously, staring into his eyes.

“Okay. Deep breath.” I sucked in a big breath and let it out as he quickly thrust the rest of his cock into me. I yelped sharply and he stilled again. I felt him go to pull out and growled harshly at him.

“Don’t you dare. Just give me a second.” He nodded and stayed still, allowing me time to adjust to his size.

After a minute or so, I was ready. The pain had dissipated for the most part. I felt like we could keep going. “Okay.” I nodded. His thrusts were slow and shallow at first. The more he did it, the more comfortable it became. When my moans grew louder, his thrusting became faster. He was fucking me hard and fast. Quite literally fucking me into the mattress. I tried to match him thrust for thrust. It was sloppy at first, but soon enough, we had a good rhythm going. He leaned down more, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His cock was buried deeper in me and I screamed. He was moaning and grunting softly in my ear. I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his back. Dragging my nails down, I scratched him from his shoulder blades all the way down to his mid to low back.

“Jesus Christ.” He spat out. I smirked and dug my nails into his back. He nipped my collar bone. I was panting and I could feel my core tightening. “Fuck. You are so fucking tight.” Monty stood straight again and hooked one of my legs over his shoulder. The changed angle felt like magic. My moans had become whimpers again. I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming once again. He used his right hand to rub my clit harshly while his left steadied the leg on his shoulder. I couldn’t hold a scream in after that. His thrusts were starting to get sloppy just as I had begun to fall over the edge. My orgasm hit me like a freight train. My entire body shook. I groaned when I felt his own orgasm hit. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of me was exquisite. Thank God for birth control and regular testing. Monty pulled out of me gently and half fell, half laid down onto my bed beside me. He was panting harshly. So was I.

“Fuck me.” I muttered.

“I just did.” He panted. I groaned, unable to find the energy to flip him off or move or make an actual noise in response. After a couple of minutes, he stood and put his boxers back on. I hadn’t moved. He walked to the bathroom across the hall, and I heard the water running. Back in my room, he gently wiped me clean with a warm washcloth. It felt very nice on my sensitive folds. I groaned again. Once I was wiped clean, he climbed on the bed again and pulled me close. I snuggled against his chest.

I woke up in Montgomery’s strong arms the next morning. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I groaned softly. Monty stirred behind me. I leaned into him. He sighed. “Half of me thought last night was a really hot dream.” He mumbled sleepily.

“It wasn’t.” I yawned. We rolled onto our backs and I stared at the ceiling. We were quiet for a time. I was processing what happened last night. I cheated on Parker. With the one person…. The one person what? I told him not to worry about? I mean, yeah. But if that was the reason, I would have regretted it as soon as we were done. Oh shit. What does this mean for our friendship?

“Do you regret it?” I paused before answering. I knew the answer already but what would it say about me if I answered him immediately?

“No. Do you?”

“Not a bit.”

“What does this mean? What are we supposed to do now?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell you what to do. But if I were you, I would break up with Parker.”

“That would be the kind thing to do.”

“Yes.”

“Did… did you mean what you said last night?”

“About you?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t it kind of obvious?” He motioned between the two of us. I laughed.

“I just wanted to confirm.” Monty chuckled and turned to kiss my temple.

“Does this mean,” I paused again, “was this just to get it out of our systems? Or do you want more?”

“I want more if you want more. I’d also be down for another round.” I sat up a little and pulled the sheet around my chest to look at him. He was smirking wider than I had seen him smirk in a long time.

“I think I would like more. And as for another round, I think I need to talk to Parker first before this goes any further.” He considered that for a moment.

“That’s fair. I can respect that.” We were quiet again. He’s all you’ve ever really wanted anyway.

[nervousladytraveler]

@veryflowerobservation asked me for a little story with a very specific plot line. While I doubt this is what they had in mind (apologies in advance) this is what came to me over my morning coffee. Also, I’ve been reading Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, and am indebted to her for the world (and tone) of that novel that I borrowed here.

---

She was already seated at a table in a quiet back corner when Ross entered the restaurant. A sandwich sat in front of her--untouched. How long had she been waiting? Ross hadn’t been late. In fact he was rather pleased with his timing.

He’d only just found her note a mere half hour before he was to meet her. He’d almost missed it--a small piece of folded paper deposited on his desk and no one claimed to have seen the messenger.

Dear Mr. Poldark, it read. Please meet me, if you can, noon today. The Drake. Important item to be discussed. Yours, Miss D. Carne. The ink had smeared a bit revealing an impatient or untidy author.

He remembered Miss Carne. Often, if he were to be honest. He smiled at the physical feelings associated with the memory and was on his feet shuffling for his coat before he’d thought it all through. After a late breakfast, he wasn’t hungry yet his curiosity was piqued by such a veiled message. Then again cryptic was the nature of their business, he supposed.

Ross hadn’t wanted the job but was cajoled, battered--railroaded really. But his gallantry in the previous war and in his off-the-record jaunts in between, not to mention his Good Family (“So many Poldarks already in the high ranks, you know”) were all tallied up. If Ross was trying to slip away from duty unnoticed, it seemed he was his own worst enemy. And if he had a choice, he’d have preferred to return to the army, but his ankle still bore shrapnel from ‘17 and apparently he wasn’t needed in that capacity.

“We need trustworthy men inside, Poldark,” some smart Undersecretary and an older but oh so reputable Colonel had huffed. They nodded in agreement with one another, and without waiting for an answer, had begun making plans for Ross in an unmarked office at the end of a serpentine hall in That Building.

The last thing Ross wanted was to be trusted with someone else’s secrets and yet, there he was--working for the War Time Government, which he soon learned was a very different machine than the one they’d elected in times of peace, the one everyone thought they knew. And once he saw the ways the gears really moved, Ross was certain most would prefer not to know much about this one at all.

Miss Carne, the author of the note and the guardian of the untouched sandwich, was one of the girls in the unmarked office. The department that didn’t really exist on paper needed scores of young women to keep it running.

She was different from the other girls. Not just a typist but clever--she was always solving problems, often before they were discovered, and saving the men who didn’t really exist on paper from very real embarrassment.

Ross hadn’t many dealings with her. Well, not until that one night when he got to know her quite well.

It had been a Thursday and there had been cocktails out--what had been the occasion? War had already been declared so it was quite unusual to have held a work do. Why was she even there?

He remembered the dress she wore--blue satin--and the way it fit her. Like a glove. No, more like water in a stream rippling smoothly over immovable stones. It made him feel at ease to look at her and he knew how the night would end.

In the all the secretarial pools across the city, few girls had their clothes tailored--who had time or money? So when they ventured out after work, they sported those subtle signs of economy--gaping necklines or tight stretches across the middle. Their one good dress hadn’t been replaced in so many years but their bodies had changed with the war. Rationing had left them scrawny or cheap gin had left them bloated.

Oh but those girls tried, didn’t they? They carried on the best they could. With their lips so brightly made up they could violate the black out, they were hell bent on keeping up the spirits of the lads. Wartime made for an interesting and furtive nightlife. Of course the nice girls, the ones with breeding and good dress makers weren’t out much at all these days.

But this one, Miss Carne, with her red hair--real, not from a bottle--and a fitted dress the colour of the sea at twilight, was different. Demelza was her name. It sounded like some yet-undiscovered gem. Rare as hell and essential to keep out of enemy hands. She didn’t seem to belong in either world--not the world of well dressed would-be fiancees nor the seedy boîtes, that were filled after hours when the good girls were tucked up in their bunkers.

The hotel Ross had taken Demelza to after they’d left the party was nice enough. Not the Savoy but it had a toilet ensuite and the sheets were clean. She was not Ross’s first affair so he knew how to be discreet when signing the register. He needn’t have bothered--the concierge clearly hadn't cared.

He remembered the sound of that blue dress as he unfastened it down the back. A crisp zip in an otherwise quiet room. That and her breathing and his heart beating in his chest. The sounds of anticipation. Before the dress slipped from her shoulders and his hands clasped her naked body to him.

Today she wore a stiff woolen frock the colour of filing cabinets. It reminded him of a wall of sandbags, protecting a hidden softness beneath. Still the zipper would sound the same.

“Miss Carne,” he smiled and held out his hand to her. He contemplated kissing hers when it was finally offered but sensing some unspoken chill, he refrained. He sat down opposite and gave his serviette a merry snap.

She twisted her lips when she spied the gold band on his left hand.

“You're married?” she began, raising one perfect brow. Was it naturally arched or was that her own artistry?

He might have wanted to scrutinize her face, to map out what was artifice and what was real, but at that moment he didn’t dare look her in the eye.

“Yes, I am,” he said, just a decibel louder than a mumble. “And yes, I was married when we…” He took a gulp from his water glass.

“And yet there was no ring that night,” she mused. She had no problem with eye contact, her blue eyes remained fixed on his face.

“We...uh...we were in the midst of a separation then but the war has made us rethink things…”

We. Us. There wasn’t really an us. Elizabeth was merely feeling scared and lonely, between lovers, and suddenly liking the idea of a strong husband about. But since then her plans to retreat home to Cornwall, first spoken of as a ‘hypothetical perhaps’, had started to come to fruition. She’d been packing a trunk for some days now and was fretting about whether to take just some of her furs, or all of them. She was clearly planning to stay away. Ross’s response was to arrange a driver.

“Well then,” Demelza said and pushed away her plate. “That will complicate things but doesn’t change reality one bit,” she continued crisply.

It was an office voice. With it she would manage the girls under her with confidence and efficiency. No time for emotion, yet it wasn’t sour. Must keep morale up. They had jobs to do and every memo taken, every letter filed, was a fulfillment of their duty.

It was not the soft, easy voice that laughed in his ear as she lay next to him on the pillow in the blacked out room. The dusky voice that had whispered his name as he crawled up her body like a soldier crawling through mud. On a mission. Towards his target.

“It seems, Mr. Poldark, that I’m to have a baby.”

He held his glass aloft and stared at her.

“What?” he spat. “Well, it can’t be...I didn’t…not in...” Of course he couldn’t utter those words in daylight. Not over a sandwich at lunchtime. One needed a stiff drink before dissecting the mechanics of love. Yet somehow he knew it was possible. He thought he’d been careful not to leave seed in the field. Now it hit him he’d in fact laid a land mine.

“Well it doesn’t really matter what you believe you did not do, because apparently whatever you did, was enough,” she responded coolly.

He didn’t dare ask if there were any others who might stand accused with him in the dock. His gut told him she wasn’t that type. And though she hadn’t confirmed it during their night together--nor had he looked for evidence later--he suspected she’d been intact before he took her to bed. Oh, she’d been a quick learner!

He also sensed that she’d rather be sitting across from just about anyone else than talking to him now, so she certainly wasn’t trying to trap him.

“Are...are you sure? I...I need to think,” he said, aware that he sounded like an old Spitfire whose propeller couldn’t quite get going. So much sputtering.

She lit a cigarette, took one long drag, then ground it out carefully in the ashtray. No doubt she’d revisit that same fag again later, at a time when she was less impatient, when she could enjoy it alone.

“Well, you do that then,” she said, and gathered her handbag, ready to take her leave.

“Wait! Where are you going? How can I reach you?” His words came out in a fast and frantic stream. The engine had started--the sputter became a steady buzz filling the room.

She narrowed her eyes and shook her head lightly. Today her hair was held back with tortoise shell combs on either side. Tidy, discreet, and appropriate for an unmarked office. Or any office.

He recalled his hands getting lost in a sea of those curls, fistfuls he’d grasped in passion. An unexpected lifeline, it had seemed at the time, that prevented him from drowning.

He felt himself going under again.

“Now you want to reach me, Mr. Poldark?” she said archly.

“Hey--you left me! You were the one who waltzed out of that hotel room while I was asleep, without so much as a backwards glance,” he growled. He’d been rankled that she continued to call him Mister Poldark, especially when he could still hear her hiss in his ear--Ross--while her body bucked under his.

“I assure you it wasn’t a waltz,” she said. And that was all she said. At least she didn’t claim she’d been trying to save him the embarrassment of a morning after. “I share a flat with another girl in Kingley Street. We don't have a telephone but you can find me at the office--unless I get reassigned in the next few days. There are changes coming, I’ve been told.”

She rose to her feet and towering over him, nodded.

Ross tried to stand up quickly--to plead with her to stay? To follow her out? He couldn't say what his intentions had been but it mattered little. He was too slow. His legs got twisted under the narrow table, his chair scraped awkwardly, and the remaining lunch things began to tip before he caught them with his broad hands. He narrowly avoided one mess, aware that he had quite another still to be cleared up.

And just like that she was gone. Leaving her entire sandwich and almost-intact cigarette behind afterall.

In a strange flash, Ross was surprised she didn't offer to pay for her own lunch. Of course a gentleman should pick up the bill for a lady no matter the circumstances, but there was something so determined and iron about her now, that he couldn’t imagine her allowing anyone to help her.

And yet help her he must. Somehow.

He felt his pockets frantically for a scrap of paper but only found a stub of a pencil.

Kingley Street, he scrawled on the back of a matchbook. He had no house number, nothing else to go.

Could he ask someone to watch the street? He knew some blokes who would do a job like that--a stake out--for the right price. Or was he better off handling this himself, intercepting her at work? Even if she did get moved to a different sector--one that also did not officially exist--he might have channels to find her.

He sat back in his chair and reached for her cigarette. He imagined it smelled like her but he lit it anyway. It helped him to relax for just a moment while he planned his next move.

Ross knew he had a duty to this woman--to their child if one was to be--and while that was an overwhelming and unforeseen realisation, he was taken aback by a different unexpected sensation.

Desire.

He wanted her. Again. Now.

And he had to find her.

[asgardian--angels]

Some more Good Omens Book minutiae

There have already been some good posts highlighting trivia and changes between the book and show (a couple are here and here) so I thought I’d add in some more that might be useful and haven’t been overdone yet. Ones I think are most helpful are bolded!

Crowley can see in the dark (because he’s a demon, not because he’s a snake)

Crowley does eat (and notes that sleeping is enjoyable after a heavy meal), but on at least one canonical occasion Aziraphale takes Crowley’s portion of food for himself (angel food cake, to be exact, and he does it without needing to ask) so infer what you will about how we never see Crowley with food in the show

Crowley does read, or at the very least it mentions him attempting to calm his nerves by reading a novel

Aziraphale learned magic when he took a class in the 1870s taught by famous stage magician John Maskelyne

Aziraphale takes his tea without sugar

Crowley does not like to shapeshift, because he is afraid he’ll forget how to turn back 

It’s not terribly clear but somewhat implied that Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis were NOT Crowley and Aziraphale (they reference a ‘team’ working for them) but that the two did exchange and compare notes on Warlock’s progress frequently. So thank Neil and Co. for the screenplay choices. Additionally, Brother Francis never actually did any real gardening, he just miracled everything to look perfect

When Warlock was 6 years old, nanny and gardener left and were replaced by two tutors, Mr. Harrison (evil) and Mr. Cortese (good)

Aziraphale will employ any means “short of actual physical violence” to discourage customers in his bookshop, including unpleasant damp odors and glowering looks to anyone who walks in

That clunky watch Crowley wears was custom-made to have the time in 20 world capitals as well as the time in Hell, which was always “Too Late”, and whose battery burned out years ago but he never noticed so it kept working

In 1653 Aziraphale added his own annotations to the proof sheets of a Bible published by Bilton & Scaggs Publishing (the same as who published the Nice and Accurate Prophecies), adding a bit about losing his flaming sword (basically the dialogue in the scene of the series where God confronts him at the gate in episode 3), and is now known as the Bugger Alle This Bible, one of a special collection of misprinted Bibles Aziraphale is proud to own

Aziraphale does watch films. This includes one documentary about gorillas making nests. He also makes an Exorcist reference.

For 6000 years Aziraphale thought dolphins were fish

Crowley watched Mary Poppins on TV at Christmas one year

Aziraphale buys his clothes, while Crowley manifests them

Anathema refers to Crowley and Aziraphale as “two consenting cycle repairmen” :)

Anathema’s bicycle is named Phaeton

Aziraphale’s bookshop is situated directly next to another bookshop called ‘Intimate Books’ and he occasionally gets confused customers that wrongly come into his shop

Anathema is British, not American, in the book

Adam has an older sister named Sarah

Aziraphale is the first angel to own a computer

After the non-Armageddon, Adam alters reality to send Warlock on a plane to America, because Adam thinks America is a cool and magical place and that Warlock deserves something good. (We do not find out if Warlock’s life improves, only that he liked England because it was ‘a good place to be an American’)

Crowley was so impressed by how diabolically mundane the warranty conditions for computers were that he sent a stack of them down to Hell’s ‘Immortal Souls’ agreement department with a memo saying ‘Learn, guys’

When Crowley trapped Hastur on his answering machine, he considered taking the tape and playing it in his car until it became Freddie Mercury, but he decided even that was taking it too far

While NOT show canon, in the book the combination to Crowley’s safe containing the holy water is 4-0-0-4, the year he “slithered onto this stupid, marvellous planet” (Neil has stated that the combination in the show is meaningless and was the default for the safe they bought)

In the book, it does NOT expressly say that Crowley destroys the plants he deems failures, just that he leaves and returns an hour later with an empty flowerpot

Crowley’s flat contains a bedroom, office, kitchen, lounge, and bathroom, each “forever clean and perfect” because he doesn’t really “live” there, as well as a fridge stocked with gourmet food that never spoils and the fridge isn’t even plugged in

Shadwell believes that Aziraphale is a Russian spy

Crowley and Aziraphale had both visited Shadwell’s apartment exactly once (and Aziraphale was rather disgusted by the state of the place)

In the book (as opposed to the show) Aziraphale is full aware (and nonplussed) that there’s only a 50/50 chance Heaven would win against Hell in Armageddon, and that it doesn’t matter for humans so much anyways because everyone will be killed horribly as civilian casualties during the war itself (a hilarious and very bitchy speech absolutely worth reading, when he possesses Marvin the TV preacher)

The road to Hell isn’t paved with good intentions, rather with frozen door-to-door salesmen, and young demons go ice-skating down it on weekends

Madame Tracy’s real name is Marjorie Potts

Aziraphale has “neat, copperplate” handwriting

Crowley is an optimist

It turns out, Hastur’s murder of the telephone salespeople prevented a Crowley-esque domino effect of thousands of people getting angry from the calls and passing that anger on and on, thus actually spreading a wave of low-level goodness across London

In the book, the M25 wasn’t actually on fire, but rather an inexplicable glowing combination of “pain and dark light” called infra-black, and was both 700 degrees Celsius and -140 at the same time. The Bentley spontaneously combusted when crossing it.

When Crowley meets Aziraphale-as-Tracy, he does say ‘Is that you? Nice dress’ but the TV version added the ‘It suits you.’ However in the book he also says ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new body?’ :)))

When Adam acknowledges Crowley at the airbase, Crowley feels true terror for the first time in his life, because while Hell could make you cease to exist, the Antichrist could make it so you never existed in the first place

When Aziraphale makes the soldier disappear, he actually was transported back to his childhood home in America where his family lives

In the book, to get them both home from Tadfield Crowley steals a Jeep from the airbase

Crowley and Aziraphale are deadass just referred to as ‘the couple with the bottle [of wine]’ one time

There is no body swap scene at the end, because there didn’t need to be; in the book, the stakes of Aziraphale and Crowley’s Arrangement were not nearly as high. A big deal was never made of it, as they were too unimportant to warrant the attention of their superiors. Retribution never came. While they could get in trouble (and Crowley was threatened many times) for defying orders concerning the Apocalypse, little mention was made of their friendship being a crime. Thus, they never had any real reason to deny being friends, and were much more comfortable with their loyalties and each other. This lack of tension marks the biggest divergence between the series and book, and creates a starkly different (and interesting!) dynamic for the characters in the show.

Just me but I get the distinct sense that book Aziraphale and Crowley are already an old bickering married couple and this explains the distinct lack of pining lmao.

Anyway, I hope these were enjoyable or helpful!

[clumsyclifford]

hello bella’s ask box it’s been a min damn.

so the vibes are fucking everywhere w the music in the lab today so i’ve mostly been ignoring it but then unforgettable by thomas rhett started playing and my brain was immediately like This Is a Fic Song

more importantly it is a Bella Fic Song

last time you not so subtly wanted me to prompt u w w thomas rhett song you told me to do that here so i am back again w another song from ur boy

okay i def snuck out just to send this so i gotta go now but this felt important laksdjdld

ok ily bye 💛

hi sam :)

so.................... i was stuck on what to write you for your birthday fic. you sent me this ask prompting me with a thomas rhett song that i had literally been meaning to write a fic based on for almost a full year. the puzzle pieces just aligned REALLY nicely on this one.

happy birthday, my love. there's gonna be a LOT more sappy shit in the ao3 notes, but please know that my life is irreversibly changed for the better because i met you. i am dangerous close to sounding like glinda from wicked and i really want you to get to READ this fic so please see ao3 for more schmaltz. i love you so much.

tw for alcohol

read here on ao3

-

Every life has a moment that imprints on memory like ink on a fresh page. The kind of moment that permanently alters the trajectory of that life, that marks the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. Some people are lucky enough to have more than one. Some people’s minds are laden with crystallized memories. But there’s always at least one. One completely unforgettable moment.

For Jack, this moment happens twenty-four minutes after he enters the club.

Twenty-three minutes after he enters the club, Zack returns with his and Jack's second beers and says, "There's some guy at the bar who's totally your type."

"Yeah?" Jack cranes his neck, but he can't quite see the bar from where he is. "My type how? Not just 'lonely and drunk,' right? My standards have gotten higher, you know."

Zack hands Jack his beer. "He's cute and he's wearing a One Direction shirt, and I'm pretty sure he's drinking a margarita.”

"Oh shit," Jack says. "That checks all my boxes."

"I know it does," says Zack, winner of the Wingman Of The Decade award. He claps Jack on the shoulder. Jack sidesteps people until he gets eyes on the bar and scans for a cute guy in a One Direction shirt drinking a margarita.

Twenty-four minutes after Jack enters the bar, he sees Alex.

And everything changes forever.

*

"Woah," Jack says. His gut is feeling weird and it’s probably unrelated to the beer and a half under his belt.

"What?"

"The guy at the bar," Jack says, grabbing Zack's arm. "Zack. You grossly undersold my future husband to me."

"Your future husband?" Zack sounds amused, but Jack isn't kidding.

"Remember this moment," he says seriously, giving Zack a sloppy pat on the bicep before moving away from him, towards the bar, towards the cute guy with the One Direction shirt who's making Jack understand clairvoyance. "Remember this so you can tell the story at our wedding!"

"Your wedding," Zack repeats.

"Our fucking wedding!" Jack insists, more loudly as space and drunk people fill the growing gap between him and Zack. Zack just gives him a good-luck-and-godspeed wave.

Seconds later, Jack is at the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The cute guy in question looks up, surprised. Jack practically reels. It's a miracle people aren't flocking to this guy; he's not just cute, he's gorgeous. Bleach-blond hair — clearly from a bottle, which somehow Jack finds more attractive — flops over his forehead in a stubborn commitment to the emo fringe that died out a decade ago, and long lashes frame brown eyes that rival the glossy chestnut color of the bar. Add the five o'clock shadow and the sharply angled jaw and Jack's speechless.

Fortunately it's not his turn to speak. "I have a drink," says the guy, who is rapidly progressing from Cute Guy At Bar to Possible Soulmate At Bar. He quirks a smile. Jack's done for. "I'll buy you a drink, though."

Jack sets his partially-drunk beer on the bar top and slides it as far as he can reach. "Okay," he says.

Possible Soulmate laughs. He slides his margarita away from him, too, pushing it into the space of another person sitting down the bar. "Touché. Okay, you can buy me a drink."

"Well, hey, I don't want you to waste yours," Jack says reasonably. He retrieves his beer and then Possible Soulmate's drink. "I'll get the next one."

Possible Soulmate smiles. Jack is going to need his name eventually. "I appreciate your commitment to environmentally-friendly consumption of alcohol."

Jack blinks. "Yeah," he says. "That was a lot of big words, but sure. No problem. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Alex." Alex. Jack can see the wedding invites now.

"Nice to meet you," Jack says. "I like your shirt."

Alex glances down out of instinct as the wide collar of the shirt slips over his shoulder. "Thanks," he says with a chuckle, and looks up at Jack. "I like yours."

With great effort, Jack tears his gaze from Alex's shoulder and the hint of collarbone peeking out, but he would like it on the record that it is tremendously difficult. Fortunately he already knows what shirt he's wearing because he'd agonized over it for several minutes longer than Zack's patience ran, shortly before going out.

"Yeah, Kurt Cobain," he says, nodding with probably too much enthusiasm. "I'm a lead singer guy."

"Really?" Alex tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. "Meaning what?"

"I go for the lead singer types," Jack explains. "Kurt Cobain, Billie Joe Armstrong, you know." He nods at Alex's shirt. "Harry Styles."

"Harry Styles wasn't—" Alex breaks off and snorts. "Eh, whatever. Who cares."

"Wait," Jack says. "Hold the phone. Did you fucking cross out Zayn's face?"

Alex looks down at his shirt again like maybe he'll have forgotten what it looks like. "Oh, my friend did that. But now the shirt is factually accurate."

"If you wanted an accurate shirt you'd have to cross them all out since none of them are in the band anymore," Jack observes.

Alex slowly smiles. "I guess."

"I always liked Zayn," Jack says wistfully. "His solo shit is so good, though."

"It's good," Alex says, kind of in the tone of voice of someone who doesn't really agree but doesn't want to get into it, so Jack leaves it be. They can poll their wedding guests. "I'm really digging Niall's solo shit."

"That's an extremely acceptable answer," Jack says, nodding vigorously. In the moment it slips his mind that he's holding a beer and the liquid begins to slosh out of its container. "Oh shit, fuck, sorry."

"Didn't get me," Alex says, passing Jack a napkin. "Couple too many, I get it."

"What?" Jack is very focused on drying his hands so they don't get sticky and gross. "I'm not drunk."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not!"

"Okay," Alex says lightly, but it's clear he doesn't believe Jack. On the bright side, he doesn't seem bothered by it.

"I am acceptably drunk for a guy in his mid-twenties at a club,” Jack amends. "And you owe me a drink anyway."

"Hey, I intend to buy you that drink," Alex says earnestly. "Another beer?"

Jack shakes his head. "Vodka soda," he says. "It's a special occasion."

"Really! You celebrating something?"

"I am now," Jack says. "Celebrating meeting my future husband."

"Your future husband?"

"You," Jack says, in case it wasn't clear. "It's not every day you meet the man you're gonna marry. I think it calls for a celebratory vodka soda."

Alex stares, obviously expecting Jack to say sike! When Jack does no such thing, he gives a small, incredulous laugh.

"Fair enough," he says. He sounds like he's humoring Jack. That's okay. Jack is serious, but Alex will figure that out on his own time. "I guess you're not wrong. That doesn't happen every day."

A large shadow materializes on Alex's other side, blocking light like some very cliché movie villain. It's not Doc Ock, but it is some tall, burly guy, a leer affixed to his face that's probably been there since Alex's haircut went out of style.

"Hey, baby," he says in an unnervingly deep voice. The part of Jack that isn't super skeezed out is a little jealous. But Burly Guy isn't talking to Jack; Jack may as well be invisible. To Alex, Burly Guy says, "Saw you across the bar and I just had to come over."

Didn't have to, Jack thinks grumpily to himself. You could have stayed across the bar. If you walk away now we’ll pretend we never saw you.

"Can I get you a drink?" Burly Guy asks, and honestly, Jack has no idea what Alex is going to say.

Big Burly Guy with a deep voice a la Morgan Freeman vs. resident beanstalk Jack whose voice sounds like a rejected cartoon character design. What a tough choice.

Jack is just preparing to cut his losses when Alex grabs Jack's wrist, turns to him, and says, "Honey? What do you think?"

Jack's tipsy, but Alex is definitely communicating something with his eyes, and between that and the pet name Jack is pretty sure he's on the same page.

"You want to buy my boyfriend a drink?" Jack asks Big Burly Guy, cranking up the Bitchy energy because he doesn't get to do it a lot and it's kinda fun. His voice has definitely gone vaguely southern-auntie, but he's rolling with it. "Sorry, sugar, this seat's taken. Must be this guy" — he points at himself — "to ride."

"This guy?" Burly Guy echoes, furrowing his eyebrows at Jack and then looking at Alex with profound confusion, like he just doesn't get it. "You're with this guy?"

"Happily," Alex says, glancing back at Jack, who offers him what is definitely a convincingly enamored smile because Jack is legitimately enamored. Alex laces their fingers together and Jack's not delusional, can't be, not when they fit this well together. No way. "So I'm gonna pass on that drink. Sorry, man. No hard feelings."

Burly Guy seems to have some hard feelings. Maybe he didn't get the memo. "Whatever," he says gruffly. "Your loss."

Jack can't resist countering, "Actually it's your loss, sweetums," as Burly Guy retreats. If he dies tonight, he knows who’s responsible.

As soon as he's gone, Alex breaks down laughing, and Jack quickly follows suit. Alex's hand slips from Jack's and begins to tug at the ends of his own hair instead.

"Sugar?"

"I don't know what happened," Jack says/wheezes. "I became possessed by Blanche from Golden Girls.”

"You have to be" — Alex prods Jack's chest — "this guy to ride." He dissolves into giggles and Jack is laughing too but mostly because Alex's laugh is incredibly contagious.

"Look, I don't blame him," Jack says, feeling exhilarated. "You are the best-looking guy in this establishment. He just happened to have creepo vibes."

"I am not the best-looking guy in this establishment," Alex says, grinning at Jack. "Nice of you to say, though."

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"I thought you were Jack."

Jack stares at Alex and Alex doesn't even last a second before he's breaking down laughing yet again.

I'm going to marry you, Jack thinks, and it almost scares him how serious he is about that. He opens his mouth and says, "That wasn't even— that's not even one of the good dad jokes! That's the most boring one!"

"There is no such thing as a boring dad joke."

"You should go into stand-up," Jack says dryly. "You'd tear down the house with this set. I can see it now." He waves a grandiose hand in the air as if painting the marquee into existence, but when he goes to introduce the act he realizes he's missing most of the crucial information. "Alex…something…something. Austin, Texas, one night only."

"Gaskarth," Alex says. "That's my last name."

"Alex Something Gaskarth," Jack loyally amends, and gives Alex a look like, well?

Except Alex is giving Jack that same look. "I only know your first name and you expect me to tell you my full one?"

"Jack Bassam Barakat," Jack says, gesturing impatiently. "Come on, I'm trying to introduce your act here."

"Guess," Alex says.

"Guess?"

"It's a pretty basic middle name," Alex says. "I'll buy you your vodka soda when you guess it."

"Alex," Jack says. "I am not going to guess your middle name. I am so bad at these games and I'm fucking drunk."

"Quitter," Alex says. "Do you want your drink?"

Jack scowls, trying to channel Blanche again, but Alex is apparently immune.

"Give me a hint," he finally concedes.

"It's a British name," Alex says. “Pretty standard British.”

"Are you British?”

Alex nods. "Born and raised. Moved here when I was about…eight? But I'm not an American citizen. I have a green card."

Yet another reason they should be married. Jack could extend his citizenship to Alex. Plus he'd gain British citizenship, which would probably be useful for, like, travel or One Direction stalking or whatever.

"That's sick," Jack says. "I was born in Lebanon. We moved when I was a baby."

"That's so cool," Alex says, sounding genuinely interested. He props his chin on his hand and gives Jack a cheeky smile. "Now guess."

Jack sighs. "Uh, Charles."

"No."

"Darcy."

"Darcy?"

"Margaret."

"Jack."

"You said it's a British name!"

"A British man's name," Alex says, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation.

Jack takes a long pull from his beer, swallows, and says, "Harry."

"No."

They're going to be here awhile. Jack pulls out the seat next to Alex and settles in while he racks his brain for British names.

*

“Alfred.”

“Nope.”

“John.”

“No.”

“Paul.”

“No.”

“George.” Alex shakes his head. “Ringo.”

“Yup, you finally got it,” Alex says. Jack is over the moon for a split second before it sinks in that Alex is fucking with him. “Alex Ringo Gaskarth. Well done.”

“Fuck off, I’m doing my best here,” Jack says.

“You’re missing one incredibly obvious name,” Alex says. “It’s not that hard.”

“For you,” Jack says. “Because you already know it.” Alex is grinning. Jack likes that he’s enjoying himself. It makes this guessing game fun. Under any other circumstances, this guessing game would not be fun, but Alex makes it fun.

Alex has also finished his mango margarita by now, and Jack’s beer is long since empty. He’s itching for another drink, mainly for something to do with his hands.

As if reading his mind, Alex flags down the bartender, who sidles up with a small smile and says, “What can I get you boys?”

Jack blinks at her. Mostly at her accent, which is not American.

“Vodka soda,” Alex says. To Jack, “I think you’ve earned it.” Jack smiles.

“And a mango margarita,” he puts in to the bartender, “and are you British?”

The bartender looks amused. “I am British,” she says.

“Please help me,” Jack says. “Alex says his middle name is a British name and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it fucking is.”

“Jack, the nice bartender lady has other things to do,” Alex says with a laugh. The nice bartender lady probably does have other things to do, but she shifts her weight and gives Alex an appraising look instead.

“Harry?”

“Tried that,” Jack says, realizing at once that this is a pointless endeavor. The nice bartender lady is going to guess everything Jack’s already guessed and he’ll just have wasted her time. “I’ve tried every member of One Direction, every member of the Beatles, every member of Oasis, every Harry Potter character, every member of the Royal Family—”

At this, Alex coughs conspicuously.

Jack rounds on him. “I have.”

“Edward,” the bartender offers. Alex’s lips are pressed together in a smile and he shakes his head. “Meghan. Kate. Richard. Dick. Philip.”

A lightbulb goes off as the bartender is listing Royal Family names. Jack wants to kick himself. “Oh my— William?”

“Yeahhhh, there you go! See, it was easy,” Alex says, grinning widely.

“William,” the bartender repeats with a charming little laugh. Her lipstick is bright with clean lines, an impressive feat considering Jack has seen her bustling around this bar for almost an hour now. “I had an ex called William.”

“Oh no,” Alex says. “I hope he didn’t ruin the name for you.”

“Please,” the bartender says, waving him off. “The only thing he ruined for me was a few meters of drywall.” Jack and Alex must have twin looks of concern, because she explains, “Anger issues. No worries, boys, I sent him packing, and a vodka soda for you, and a mango marg for you.”

She slides their drinks into waiting hands and starts to turn away. “Wait a sec,” Jack says.

The bartender turns back to him with wide Bambi eyes. “Did I fuck up the drink? I’ve made it a million—”

“No no no,” Jack assures her. “I just wanted to know your name. You rescued me from an eternal guessing game, you’re my hero.”

The bartender smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maisie,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Maisie,” Alex says. “Thank you for the alcohol.”

Maisie laughs again as she moves to the other side of the bar.

“William,” Jack says, swirling his drink with the miniature straw. “God damn. I can’t believe I missed William.”

“You got close,” Alex says. “You guessed Liam twice. And thanks for the drink.”

“Same to you,” Jack says. “It’s a good drink. Yours, I mean. You know what offends me, though? Why aren’t mango margaritas orange?”

Alex furrows his brow. “Why the fuck would they be orange?”

“Mangos are orange! Fruity drinks should be the same color as their fruit.”

“Mangos are not fucking orange,” Alex says with an incredulous laugh. “They’re straight-up yellow.”

“They’re orange with yellow tendencies,” Jack says, “but mostly orange.”

“They are entirely yellow,” Alex says. “Coldplay even wrote a song about them. They were all yellow.”

“They’re orange,” Jack insists, but now Alex has moved on completely and is loudly singing Coldplay.

“I came along! I wrote a song foooor youuuuu! And all the things you do!”

“You’re ignoring the truth!”

“And it was called ‘Yellow’!” Alex shouts.

“Okay, I surrender! Sheesh. You win.”

“Thank you,” Alex says placidly, like he hasn’t just been yelling obnoxiously over the (worse, but much louder) club music. “I’m going to enjoy my yellow mango marg very much.”

“And I will enjoy my victory drink,” Jack says, lifting his glass. Alex lifts his. It smells like mango and tequila. They clink the rims together. “To William.”

“To William,” Alex agrees, laughing.

*

The DJ plays a song Jack loves to hate from hearing it on the radio so many times and Alex is out of his seat before Jack’s managed to put down his drink.

“What are—”

“I love this song, I want to dance,” Alex insists. The implication is clearly that he wants Jack to dance with him, which is like. What is Jack gonna do, say no?

Alex must anticipate some kind of argument, though, because with a glint in his eye he adds lightly, “These are the kinds of things you’ll have to do if we’re married.”

On the one hand, he’s clearly making fun. But on the other hand, the fact that Alex was a stranger an hour ago and is still comfortable teasing Jack about suggesting they’re going to get married speaks volumes. Alex is smiling. They’ve known each other for less than an hour — a drink and a half each — and Alex is smiling at his own joke about marrying Jack. Like he likes that Jack said it first. Like he likes Jack.

“Just wait ‘til you learn all the weird shit you’ll have to do when we’re married,” Jack says, sliding out of his stool.

Any sane person would have run away by now. Even Jack knows when he’s coming on too strong.

But Alex does the opposite; Alex grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the dance floor.

“Fair warning,” Alex says. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack says, and then eats his words not two seconds later when Alex demonstrates how very much he doesn’t know how to dance. All of his limbs seem to move as their own entities, zero synchronization. A couple surrounding people take various minor assaults before taking the hint and giving Alex some space, but this does not stop him. “Okay,” Jack says loudly over the music. “You were right. But luckily neither do I.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Alex says.

Jack does the sprinkler. Alex snorts. He does the wave, very poorly, and Alex continues it, also very poorly.

“Mr. Moves,” Alex says. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Check this one out.” Jack does the running man with extreme focus. Alex laughs, leaning towards Jack as he does. Jack stops dancing so he doesn’t accidentally hit Alex, who is suddenly much closer and who somehow smells like pine and flannel and fall and winter in one and is the best-looking person in blue jeans and checkered Vans on this dance floor. Far from the only person, but without question the prettiest.

Fuck.

“I don’t think I can do that one,” says Alex, grinning. Jack nods at him like, try it, so Alex does, proving himself right. He almost takes Jack’s eye out.

“Yeesh, okay, you’re— alright, take it easy,” Jack says, swatting Alex’s wayward hand away and laughing. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

Surrendering the running man, Alex starts up with some bizarre hand-wavey foot-kicky thing, singing along to the music.

“Do you seriously like this song?” Jack asks, attempting to imitate Alex’s dance. “Dance,” heavy quote marks implied.

Alex shoots Jack a look. “Hell yeah. What, you don’t?”

“It’s just…always on,” Jack says. “Everywhere. How are you not sick of it?”

“Because it fuckin’ slaps!” Alex looks incensed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised you’re a pop music person when you’re literally in a One Direction shirt.”

“I’m a lots of music person,” Alex counters. “Including pop music, yeah. You don’t like pop music?”

“I sometimes do,” Jack says. “I like Taylor Swift. Britney Spears.”

“Okay, well, you’d have to be insane not to like them.”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously sane.”

Alex barks a laugh. “Drunk but sane.”

“I am not drunk!” That’s probably a lie by now.

“You’re not convincing me otherwise,” Alex says. “I’m confident you’ve been drunk this whole time.”

“You haven’t exactly been an innocent bystander,” Jack says. “You bought me a drink, and you’re gonna buy us shots in a minute.”

“I did— I what?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and this time he drags Alex off the dance floor, back to the bar. “I can see the future, I forgot to tell you.”

“You—” Alex laughs again and leans on the bar, trapping both his elbows between his stomach and the bartop. “You’re buying the next round.”

“Oh, happily,” Jack says. “I’m actively trying to get you drunk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Studies show I am 75% more attractive to people when they’re drunk,” says Jack.

Alex turns to him. Without missing a beat, he says smoothly, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to get any more attractive.”

Fuck. Actually, fuck. Seriously. Fuck.

“You must be drunk already, then,” Jack says.

Alex smiles serenely. “I feel pretty sober.”

“Exactly what a drunk person would say,” Jack says. “J’accuse, William.”

Alex laughs. “In that case, your studies are right.”

Jack’s probably blushing. He does that in extreme cases only, but this is nothing if not an extreme case. Alex is fucking relentless.

Maisie the bartender is back, and Alex orders them shots of tequila. Somewhere in the recesses of Jack’s mind, this unlocks a memory, and he snaps his fingers. “I should hunt down my friend, he loves tequila.”

“Friend?” Alex looks around while Maisie pours their shots. “You ditched your friend?”

“He told me to,” Jack says. “He’s probably gonna pick up some girl. Actually, he probably already has.”

“Really,” Alex says, sounding amused.

“Zack’s a strong silent type,” Jack explains. “Emphasis on strong. We’re single guys in our mid-twenties, Alex. We’re not going to clubs for the atmosphere.”

“Admit it,” Alex says. “You a little bit are.”

Jack bites his lip. “Fine, I like the atmosphere,” he admits, more affected than he should be that Alex seems to have picked up on this about him. “And the alcohol. And the chances I’ll meet my future husband, which clearly paid off. Zack will never admit it, but I’m pretty sure he likes trying to set me up with random people in clubs.”

Alex laughs. “He set you up with me?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says. “He wingmanned me hard. You can thank him in your vows.”

This only serves to make Alex laugh harder. “I’ll thank him now,” he says with a grin. Taking his cue, Jack grabs his shot glass. Alex does the same. “To Zack.”

“To Zack!” Jack cheers, and they both down their shots.

“Me?”

Jack whirls around and trips straight into Zack. “Zack!” he says brightly. “We toasted you.”

“I heard,” Zack says. “Why, exactly?”

“I’m Alex,” says Alex, holding out a hand. Zack shakes it. “Apparently you set us up?”

“Oh,” Zack says. “I wouldn’t really say that. I just kind of pointed Jack in this direction. If you can put up with him, that’s all you.”

“I was gonna come find you anyway,” Jack says. “We’re doing tequila shots. Next round on me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Zack says. “Count me in.”

They can’t come up with a toast for their second round so they just knock it back with an ambiguous cheer; then Zack offers to buy another, and Jack’s not about to refuse. It’s starting to hit just right, so he’s buzzed but not incoherent. All his most brilliant ideas come in this state.

Case in point: as Maisie is pouring them their third round, Jack suddenly says, “Maisie! Do a shot with us!”

Maisie looks up and laughs. “I’m not supposed to drink on the job,” she says.

“It’s not drinking, it’s bonding,” Jack insists.

“Yeah, we’re forming lasting friendships,” Alex jumps in.

Zack looks entertained. “You guys know each other?”

“As of half an hour ago, yes,” Maisie says.

“Maisie here helped me guess Alex’s middle name,” Jack explains. “Which is William. Like the prince.”

“I feel like I missed so much,” Zack says, half to himself. He shrugs and nods at Maisie. “One shot. On me. For Jack. We won’t tell.”

Maybe it’s because Zack is buff and has cool tattoos or just has good vibes or whatever, but Maisie hesitates only a second before inclining her head. “Just one, and no blabbing,” she says, meeting all of their eyes in turn. Everyone nods solemnly, and Maisie discreetly pours herself a fourth shot.

“Hell yes!” Jack whoops as they all take a shot glass. “To Maisie!”

“To Maisie!” Everyone echoes, including Maisie with a wry grin.

The third shot goes down smoother than the first two. Jack swallows his easily, as does Alex. Maisie puckers her face a bit. Zack has zero reaction, because Zack’s just kinda like that.

“While I’m here, I was hoping to get another beer,” Zack says.

“On it,” Maisie says immediately, giggling. “Thanks for the shot, boys. You’ve kept me far more entertained tonight than my usual shift provides.”

“You can give a toast at our wedding,” Jack says to her. Zack’s eyes widen a little, Alex snorts, and Maisie laughs.

“I’d be honored,” she says. “Back to work now. You need anything, let me know.”

“Seriously, Jack?”

“What?” Jack gives Zack an innocent smile. He pats Zack on the cheek. “Don’t worry, sugar, you can give a toast too.”

Alex laughs. Zack stares at him and shakes his head. “You’re insane,” he says, but he says that roughly twice a day so he’s still below his quota. “I’ll leave you two alone. Come find me when you wanna go. If…” He eyes Alex. “...Just…yeah.”

And with these eloquent words, he disappears with his beer into the crowd.

“I like him,” Alex announces.

“Me too,” Jack says. He turns back to Alex. “Back to the dance floor?”

“Get out of my brain,” Alex says. “I’d like to see your drunken running man.”

“It is gonna blow your fucking mind,” Jack promises, and Alex laughs again.

*

They’re not even being gross like everyone else. Alex has pulled Jack into an exaggerated tango performed mostly with missteps when it happens: someone shoves them aside as they walk past, and Alex loses his balance and falls into Jack, who just barely manages to catch them both. He doesn’t manage to stop his arm from winding around Alex’s waist. To be fair, he doesn’t try very hard.

Jack’s first thought is homophobe, but then he spots the offender, lumbering off with heavy footfalls, and it’s Burly Guy from earlier. The guy who tried and failed to pick Alex up.

All of this registers as Alex slowly regains his footing. “Damn, who pissed in that dude’s Cheerios?”

“It’s the guy from before who tried to buy you a drink,” Jack says, pointing at his back.

Alex whips his head around. “Seriously? Asshole.”

Jack chooses not to observe that from his vantage point, being shoved close together is hardly a dick move. In intent, sure, but not in actuality; Jack’s enjoying the proximity a great deal. Like, a lot.

Like, his hand is still on Alex’s hip, subtly keeping Alex close, and Alex has his arm around Jack’s shoulders from their dance and he’s not moving, either.

“Yeah,” Jack says. They’d already been on the outskirts and now they’re off to the side of everyone, wallflowers.

Alex breathes a laugh and looks back at Jack. He doesn’t step back or even lean away, even though their faces are too close to be friendly now. Jack hadn’t really been expecting friendly, but they’ve been tightrope-walking between sides, and if neither of them breaks this up then they’ll be irreversibly left on one end.

Jack has no intention of moving away. He likes this end of the tightrope. For all he cares, they could cut the tightrope and free-fall together.

“You’re pretty good at bad tango-ing,” Alex says, reaching up to brush away the sweaty fringe that’s clinging to his forehead.

Jack grins. “Well, you know what they say. It takes two.”

Alex kisses him so suddenly that Jack almost loses his balance.

*

He tastes like tequila. That’s all Jack gets before they’re not kissing anymore. The room feels quiet and then unforgivably loud the next second, and Alex is flushed and smiling nervously, and Jack is smiling too, not nervous at all.

“Did I tell you I’m in a band?” Alex asks in a rush.

Jack’s brain struggles to keep up. He can’t remember Alex mentioning a band, but he’s also distracted by wanting to kiss Alex again. There’s no understating the power of wanting to kiss someone over failing to clock anything they say. “What?”

“I’m in a band,” Alex says. “Not as a job, just like, for fun.”

“Oh,” says Jack.

“I’m the lead singer,” Alex says, with a flickering look down at Jack’s shirt.

“Oh,” says Jack, because, like, oh. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What, here?” Alex meets his eyes. “With all these people around?”

“You kissed me first,” Jack says. “Let me kiss you and then we can call it even.”

“Okay,” Alex says, and Jack’s kissing him before the word’s really out of his mouth.

And he tastes like tequila and mango and sugar and the color yellow and the sweat of the dance floor and God, it’s good. It’s like kissing a memory, except this memory is still here, not frozen in time, not trapped in an ornate frame. He’s creating a memory that he knows he’ll relive for the rest of his life.

Somehow, though he doesn’t know the end of this chapter, he knows the end of the book.

Alex’s warm palm cradling Jack’s cheek to hold him steady, fingers splayed out like a star; Alex’s other hand grazing skin over the collar of Jack’s shirt. Alex singing Coldplay in Jack’s ear. Alex’s blue jeans and his checkered Vans and his ridiculous One Direction tank top. Alex holding Jack’s hand and calling him honey to get Burly Guy to leave him alone. Grinning as he shoots down guess after guess for the elusive middle name. Laughing at Jack’s stupid dance moves. Knocking back a shot like it’s nothing. Smiling when Jack says they’re going to get married, never moving away, only ever closer.

Alex sitting undisturbed at the bar, ankles crossed, and Jack seeing him from across the room like something out of a goddamn Hallmark movie and just knowing.

He tugs Alex closer but Alex is already pulling away with a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. He smoothes a hand over a crease in Alex’s shirt and nods. “Taxi’s on me if we go back to your place.”

“Sucker, I was gonna suggest that anyway,” Alex says with a quiet laugh. “You should tell Zack. Don’t wanna just leave him.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “He knows.”

“He knows?”

“Zack and I are brothers in clairvoyance,” Jack says. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I knew you could see the future,” Alex says. “You never told me Zack could, too.”

“Zack can see everyone’s future,” says Jack. “I can only see mine.”

“Yeah? What’s your future look like now?”

Jack filters out several inappropriate comments. It’s hard when Alex is smirking, clearly baiting him. “I told you,” he says. “You, me, vows, rings, the works.”

“Not that future,” Alex says. “I’m talking about the immediate one.”

It takes everything in Jack not to get down on one knee and say so was I. There’s a tilt in Alex’s head, like a dog listening carefully for a familiar sound.

“Honestly?” Jack says, and Alex nods. “I think it’s more fun if we find out together.”

[chiaki-translation]

Spring Troupe 7th Play: Magician’s Pure Love Translation Ch1-2

What am I doing to myself? Out of a very weird reason I started translating this story. I will try my best to post translation everyday (at least 2 chapters a day) so I would be able to post everything before the actual event ends. I hope there’s someone else out there who actually want to read the whole story so here it is, the first part of the translation under the cut. Enjoy~ Some extra things I’m tempted to say. I really want to scout for Magician Chikage, but I’m saving so hard for Glitter Kazu and I shall not be tempted. I also won’t have a lot of screenshots for this series because I’m quite lazy since each chapter is quite long...

Ch1-2 / / Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber Entertainment

Translator’s Note:

I actually haven’t read Act 3, so I’m not that familiar with Madoka and the 1st generations. If there’s anything wrong from this translation, please feel free to tell me so I can correct it for others. Thank you~

Magician’s Pure Love (Chapter 1-2)

 Masumi:

So look over here, and… there it disappears.

Chikage:

Right, you’re good.

As expected, you really have a dexterous hand.

Masumi:

Everyone can do this much.

Chikage:

If you tell that to Chigasaki, he’ll get angry at you.

But you have quite a repertoire of magic tricks now, don’t you think it’s time to try putting on a formal show?

Masumi:

I’ll only put on a show for Director…

Chikage:

If it’s for that purpose, then you might need to polish the magic tricks even further…

Misdirection technique might be effective, it’s a necessary trick to get Director-san to enjoy it.

Masumi:

…

Chikage:

Memo?

You wrote on that memo sometimes, what have you actually been writing?

Masumi:

It’s a note on how to grab hold of Director’s love.

Chikage:

Vol.26 huh…

Masumi:

It’s the 26th one.

Chikage:

As usual, your dedication towards Director-san is amazing…

Masumi:

I’ll do anything to be able to become her ideal man.

Chikage:

Anything, huh… to have such a passionate love for something, I wonder what kind of feeling it would be.

Masumi:

You want to know?

Chikage:

I’ll refrain if we’re talking about love stories.

Masumi:

You won’t understand anyway, so I won’t start.

Chikage:

Haha. Even Masumi, are you going to treat me like a man with no romance?

Director:

Ah, the two of you, can I have a bit of your time?

Masumi:

--

Chikage:

Right when we’re talking about it, right.

Masumi:

What happened?

Director:

There’s something I need to talk to you about.

<Shifts to Living Room>

Tsuzuru:

What are we talking about?

Director:

I just had a talk with Sakyo-san and the manager…

There are a lot of attention on the troupe now because of GODza’s and 1st generation’s act-off, as well as the all-out performance on “Spotlight”.

Citron:

Oh, it’s crawling through the tension!

Masumi:

Boiling.

Itaru:

There’re really a lot of God-za’s fans and the 1st generation fans when you pay a closer attention.

Sakuya:

Even for “Spotlight” as the special feature, I was so nervous at first but I’m glad that it seemed popular out there!

Chikage:

It’s all thanks to Kasumi-san’s editing skill.

Director:

From then, I have received a lot of inquiries regarding our local performances… Then from this, I thought we should go for an attack instead.

In order to realize the value of Mankai entrusted by the 1st generation, we should aim to level up and improve the popularity of the theatre company while improving the performance level of each individual.

Tsuzuru-kun will also take steps to further improve on his ability to write for our performances…

Tsuzuru:

Yeah. In order to be able to match the stories that Hakkaku-san made, as expected I still need a lot more experience.

Director:

That’s why, while still working on our local performances, I would like to plan for new performances that would highlight the strength of each troupe.

It’s exactly because we received a lot of attention now, shouldn’t we use this chance to redefine the strength of each group?

Sakuya:

I want to do it!!

Citron:

I’m pretty sure there’re a lot of fans out there who’re still waiting for us!

Masumi:

I think it’s a good idea.

Itaru:

Why not?

It might be a good change to all the Mixed Plays we’ve been doing as well.

Chikage:

I agree as well.

We’ve only done one lap of ‘lead’  for Spring Troupe performances after all.

Tsuzuru:

You’re right.

Director:

Is there anyone here interested to take the ‘lead’ role this time?

Masumi:

I want to do it.

Director:

That’s fast.

Masumi:

I’ll do anything to rekindle your love.

Tsuzuru:

There’s nothing to rekindle over there.

Itaru:

So there’s a motive for some returns.

Chikage:

Your character’s too consistent.

Masumi:

Not only the Spring Troupe performances, I have taken many roles even in Mixed Play and act-off. The me right now would be able to shine brighter as a ‘lead’ compared to my time during Alice.

As the chairman, I think I would be able to put on a much better performance than that time, and I want to show it to you.

Director:

I see…

(Alice was only our second performance for the Spring Troupe and everyone had very little experience back then. Since then, everyone has accumulated a lot of experience.

The bond among the members has also deepened, we might be able to make a performance that portrays Masumi-kun much better now.)

Chikage:

I see.

Itaru:

As the chairman, huh.

Sakuya:

I think the Masumi-kun right now will be able to do it!

I’ll also support you!

Citron:

I also a breeze!

Tsuzuru:

Agree you mean.

Well, I think it’s good for Masumi to be the ‘lead’.

Director:

Alright, then, it’s decided that Masumi-kun will be the lead!

Masumi:

I’ll do my best.

<End of Chapter 1>

Masumi:

…

(There’s no vacant seat around…)

Madoka:

--

You can sit over here.

Masumi:

… thank you.

You’re writing GODza’s script?

Madoka:

Yeah. Recently I’ve been visiting GODza’s training hall, I need to keep studying theatre after all.

Masumi:

Hee…

Madoka:

After our loss in the act off, GODza’s seats has been more motivated, of course Haruto-san and Shifuto included.

Everyone’s practicing with all they have.

Kamikizaka-san also changed towards a good direction.

How’s your side doing?

Masumi:

We decided that I’ll be the ‘lead’ for the upcoming Spring Troupe performance.

Madoka:

Really. Congrats.

Masumi:

I’m going to do my best for her sake.

Madoka:

Her?

Masumi:

It’s the director.

Madoka:

You’re going to do your best for the director’s sake?

Masumi:

I started acting for her sake.

All the good performances I’ve done so far was to kindle our love.

Madoka:

Ki, kindle your love…?

Fukunaga:

That’s wonderful!

So your passionate fire of love has polished your performances until now!

Madoka:

!?

Fukunaga:

You should promptly get that Director-san to come to this year’s school festival’s performance!

Masumi:

I told you she won’t come.

Fukunaga:

Ikaruga-kun! For his sake and for his director’s sake, let’s write a good script!

Madoka:

I haven’t started writing anything.

Fukunaga:

Not yet!

Masumi:

Ha…

Fukunaga:

You started acting for that person, and now you’re aiming higher to become a better actor for her, such a melodramatic scenario!

Madoka:

Then, what if, you never met with Director-san, Masumi would you be doing acting at all.

Masumi:

There’s no such thing as a world where me and Director won’t meet, our meeting was fate after all.

When I manage to become her ideal actor, we would finally be connected as one…

Fukunaga:

Fyuuu.

Madoka:

You’re really a passionate one…

Fukunaga:

For you to be so head over heels over her, this director-san would be a very attractive person, isn’t it.

Masumi:

Of course. She loves curry, always working hard, pretty nice, likes curry, loves theatre, loves curry.

Madoka:

So she likes curry that much…

Fukunaga:

But for such a nice person, I would be worried if I was her boyfriend~

Masumi:

…We’re not going out yet.

Fukunaga:

Eh!?

Usui-kun that doesn’t sound like you, don’t say that she already has a boyfriend?

Masumi:

… Don’t have.

Fukunaga:

But, if you approach me so passionately, even I would relent sooner or later.

Masumi:

I don’t want to approach you.

Fukunaga:

It’s just an if!

That’s why I was thinking there might be someone else on her mind.

Masumi:

(Director has another guy on her mind…?)

--

(It can’t be… It’s impossible.)

<Shifts to Dorm’s Living Room>

Itaru:

Since Masumi-kun is the lead, I have an idea for a sequel.

We can make Alice in Wonderland II.

Sakuya:

We’ve never done a sequel before, so it sounds like a refreshing new idea!

Tsuzuru:

But the rabbit ears…

Citron:

Then how about puppy ears?

Summer Troupe already used cat ears, so we should try something different.

Itaru:

Is this a new animal series or something…

Tsuzuru:

I’m not going to make such series!?

Chikage:

Masumi’s good at sword fighting, why not we try a performance that can make use of his skill?

Director:

Spring Troupe doesn’t really have a performance with battles and stuffs, maybe we can make it work!

Masumi:

…

Tsuzuru:

Masumi? Something bothering you?

Masumi:

It’s nothing…

Director:

?

Itaru:

If you want to make use of something Masumi’s good at, the other choice would be…

Sakuya:

Ah! What about story about magicians!?

He learns a lot of magic tricks from Chikage-san after all.

Chikage:

I see.

We can showcase the result of your training.

Tsuzuru:

It sounds like it’s going to be a good theme, sounds like it can highlight the brightness of Spring Troupe too.

Citron:

We played some live performance during the Quartet performance, maybe we can do the same with magic this time.

Director:

Sounds fun, I’m looking forward to it!

Itaru:

If it’s magic, then the co-lead would be senpai?

Sakuya:

It’s the master-pupil combination!

Tsuzuru:

Sounds great, why not.

Citron:

I approve!

Chikage:

I don’t mind.

Masumi:

…

Director:

Masumi-kun will you be alright with this arrangement?

Masumi:

… Yeah.

Director:

(His answer’s a bit vague, I wonder if this is going to be alright…)

Tsuzuru:

Then I’ll start thinking of a plot.

Director:

Yeah, I’ll leave it to you.

<Shifts to Corridor>

Masumi:

…

Chikage:

Masumi, is this alright?

Masumi:

?

Chikage:

You were practicing to hold a magic show for Director-san, weren’t you.

If we’re doing it on the stage, your performance will not be exclusive to Director-san anymore.

Masumi:

Ah… It’s alright.

Even if other people see it, I would still be able to convey my desire to show it to Director, it’s no problem at all.

Chikage:

You’re so consistent.

Masumi:

Just consistent?

Chikage:

Ah… Well, if you’re satisfied then it’s fine.

Masumi:

…

Chikage:

(Since earlier, I’ve been feeling something weird…

Well, it’s Masumi after all, most probably it’s something about Director-san

Such a pure love is not my specialty…)

… the upcoming performance, I’m looking forward to work with you.

Masumi:

Yeah.

<Shifts to Itaru/Chikage’s Room>

Itaru:

Woah, the rug’s expensive.

Chikage:

…

Itaru:

Ah, how’s Masumi?

Chikage:

Masumi?

Itaru:

I thought you went to talk to him?

Chikage:

So you saw.

Itaru:

I’m his dad after all.

Chikage:

And I’m the grandfather huh.

But he seemed to be fine for now, how to say…

Is it alright for me to give my grandson some pocket money.

Itaru:

I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work on that one grandson.

Maybe a bromide of Director-san will work instead.

Chikage:

You’re right. Well, since I’ll be co-starring, I shall communicate with him carefully.

Itaru:

Please do so.

Chikage:

By the way, how was he during the Alice performance?

You’re the co-lead right.

Itaru:

Ah…

We understood that we cannot understand each other.

Chikage:

What’s that.

But, I think I will be the same.

Itaru:

Nah, senpai’s pretty unexpected, I think you might actually understand each other normally.

I don’t have any basis for saying that, but if you find nothing in common with him, you won’t even teach him magic.

That dry part was somehow similar as well.

Chikage:

Starting from the basic.

Our age difference were quite big… how about that.

Above everything else, it doesn’t help that Masumi’s most prominent feature, being his passionate love, it’s not similar to me at all.

Itaru:

Well, around the time when Spring Troupe was formed, there was a time when Masumi lost his passion in love. That’s when everyone started sharing love stories to him.

Chikage:

Love stories… huh.

Itaru:

Why not senpai go ahead and present one to him as well.

Chikage:

Are you serious?

Itaru:

Well, I don’t expect any interesting story to come out from you though.

Chikage:

I don’t want to hear that from you.

Well, I was told straight to  the face that he doesn’t want to share love stories with me.

Itaru:

Haha. So Masumi understands well.

<End of Chapter 2>f

[popculturebuffet]

The Loud House Reviews: The Boss Maybe/ Family Bonding

`

Loud House weekly coverage continues as Leni is pushed into the deep end of responsiblity and taking over Lori’s old role of babysitter while her parents are gone and promptly drowns in a sea of comedy clubs, human body parts both on screen and in the fridge, old men in holes and indoor beach volley ball. 

First things first: Last week I forgot to mention Rusty’s mustache freezing off as god, wether it be the judeo-christian god, Odin, that prick Zeus, the flying spagehtti monster or one of many other gods out there. Perhaps all of them did it at once out of hatred for the little weiner. Maybe one of them finally answered my prayers which in that case, that was nice and all but there are far worse things going on i’d prefer you took care of. Also the “stuff I couldn’t fathom” turned out to be just more loudcest, because of course it did. Loudcest is like David Spade, you think it’s finally gone or isn’t doing as much but then it comes around and makes the wrong missy and you waste 90 minutes of your life thinking i’td be so bad it’s good when it’s really just boring and a waste of it’s main actress talent. I lost track of that metaphor, but Loudcest is like david spade in that people like it for reasons I can’t fathom and it hasn’t quietly faded into the background for reasons I can’t fathom, though at least david spade was funny once. So maybe Loudcest isn’t like david spade. or maybe i’ve been taking too long with this bit. 

But whlie last week was a bit wonky it also had a lot to setup.. but now it’s time to see what the show does with all the setup over, and a lot of new possiblities ahead. PItter Patter!

The Boss Maybe Ah now this is exactly what I was hoping for this season. New situations brought about by the year-up and all the changes it brought, with the same old heart and humor and character progression that drew me back into the show. This is the kind of episode i love and have talked about in the past and dosen’t fall into any of the shows usual pitfalls in the process. Just great. I could end it there but I haven’t shut up before why do it now.  So this episode focuses on Leni who I talked about a bit last week and easily had the best plot and in general tends to have good episodes, both before and after the show became an ensemble piece, and even in episodes without her tends to slide in just fine. She’s always a nice breath of fresh air when she shows up. 

I think that’s due to a number of things. For one it’s how sweet a person she is: She’s genuinely nice, kind and well meaning. While she is dumb as a box of rocks that resemble Pauly Shore, what I like is her stupidity isn’t malicious, or overused for misery. She causes comical injuries from time to time with it but she’s quick to apologize iff she realises it and usualyly has no ill will to anybody unless provoked or fighting Lori over a dress despite them wearing the same clothes all the time. I know standard animation thing but it’s always weird to me when shows with a stock outfit for a character have a fashionista, and prefer when shows have stylish characters actually change outfits like Kim Possible did with it’s title character, Xiaolin Showdown did with Kimiko and of all things LIttlest Petshop did with Blythe. Granted Blythe is a nothing of a character but still, credit where it’s due. But I do get this is also a nick show and they givet hem the budget of 50 cents and a network memo that says “BEG US FOR MORE MONEY” written in blood, so fair enough. 

That aside she’s just plesant to watch. The other factor is Liliana Mumy. If you haven’t heard of her , she’s a vetran voice actress whose been doing this on and off since she was a kid, voicing Panini on chowder as a child and later going on to voice Beth in bravest warriors among other roles. Why she only does work so ocasionaly I have no idea but when she does she’s great. She’s also the son of fellow child actor BIll Mumy, aka the guy who as a kid played Anthony Fremont from the Twilight Zone classic “It’s A Good Life”, which if you haven’t seen it is about a small child who has the power of a god and thus can banish people who are “bad”, i.e. disobey him and thus rules over a small town as a creepy and cruel despot. Oh and he can read minds so if you dare to have a thought he dosen’t like your getting banished, with no telling what that means or where anyone disappeared goes. It’s good stuff. Highly recommend it, Mumy is absolutley terrifing and a brilliant actor even at that age and I wish he’d done more as an adult. I also bring it up because Lily played his daughter when they did a sequel episode during the UPN version of the show, set decades later and showing just what the little terror was like grown up... as well as what happens when his DAUGHTER gets the power. It was also really good and worth a watch after the first one. Good stuff. 

TLDR: Leni is one of my faviorites, so’s her voice actress, i’ve rambled enough about unrelated stuff at this point. 

We open at the mall, where for Leni life begins after schol, that’s when we bend all the rules time to hang with all her friends in the place where she belongs!

I mean technically she’s 17 now, but she was 16 when she started this job and none of them were 16 by the time the show ended so nyeh. This started in season 3 when the show started giving the girls not just their own stories but their own supporting casts., storylines, love intrests etc. Luna and Luaan got their romance plots with Sam and Benny, Lori got her college plot towards the end of the season, Lynn’s friends started showing up in her plots more, Luna’s mortuariy club went from assorted background friends of hers to a full fleged supporting crew, and of course Lincoln’s friend group started to become a recurring part of his plots away from his sisters. 

For Leni, being one of the only three kids that could legally work at the time, another possible plot to dig into, and with Luna having way less incentive to get a 9-5 job with her music to work on and the fact we’ve seen her use said music to make money once in a blue moon, Leni was a good choice. It gave her something she was good at besides fashion, even if it’s fashion adjacent and gave us a new supporting cast for those stories: Her boss Mrs. Redinger, your standard “i’m tough by fair” type, and her new friends Fiona and Miguel, two fellow fashion savy teens played by actors i’d never heard of but who do a damn good job and play off her well, with both being a bit sarcastic but Fiona being a bit more mopey and deadpan and Miguel being a possibly but defintely gay teen. Both play off her well by being more down to earth and more wiling to be negative, but still enjoyable enough to be around you can buy them being friends with Leni and their a stellar addition to the cast. I wish, much like we’ve gotten with Liam lately, we could see more of them outside leni stories. Their a treat. 

But I really like Leni’s work there. Besides the cast it puts Leni in a role of responsiblity she excels at. My only real problem is her boyfriend, maybe I dunno, Chaz, one of the ONLY love intrests from l is for love to get mentioned again and one of the more intresting ones, never shows up despite also working at hte mall and the story potetial of them working for rival stores or the same store. I mean I can’t blame them for not throwing another love intrest on the pile when they had two ongoing romance plots, but now both Luna and Luann are on steady ground with their steadies, it’s time to pull that trigger, get off hte ground and eat that horse. Also let LIncoln have one again will ya? It dosen’t have to be stella but Girl Jordan is right there, i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again.. where is she. And if not her just make one you’ve proven to actually be really good at it. 

Where was I? Ah yes the mall. Leni is doing great at her job, suggesting some gloves to scoots, who ceases being skeptical when a hunky younger man of 30 something compliments her on them them chases off after him. If you don’t remember who scoots was that’s the old lady on a scooter who makes troulbe and appareltly can still get it. Good for her. Granted this is coming from someone who ships eda and stan pines still even though it’s now revealed she’s 30 but... frankly I don’t think age is a concern with her and stan can make this joke, so it evens out. 

I mean he would right? I”m getting off topic even more than usual, point is Leni is doing great and her boss takes her to the break room for cake room... it’s just the one cake but can you imagine a cake room? that’s the life. Just a fridgerated room full of cake. 

Turns out she’s EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH. And she didn’t have to chain squidward to an ancient battle ship to get it or anything. After some confusion, Fiona has to clarify it’s NOT her birthday because of course she does, Leni is proud. Full of cake and pride she tells her mom whose decided to reward her good job at work.. by dumping a bunch of respnosiblity on her.  I kid. Rita is being somewhat resonable here. She asks Leni to take over Lori’s old role of babysitting/making sure the other 10, now 9 kids don’t burn the house down... no really she actually specifies that when leaving in the next scene. Which.. fair enough.. you have 11 kids, all likely to plug in a lot of stuff especially Luna and Lisa, said Lisa is a mad scientest who ends up nearly being the one to do it this time, Lynn has no common sense, and the younger ones who aren’t mad scientst are still reckless and vain and combattive respectivley so the odds of a house fire nearly breaking out on any given night are 1:1. But Leni in a show of self doubt that’s rare for her is scared (Though her revealing that by answering a question of how she’d feel about about babysitting the kids with “Scared” was fucking gold. I swear Lily’s deliveries are always so great. ), and while Rita assures her she’s not sure. But as I said, she is being resonable: While Leni’s not the brightest she’s kind, she’s been shown even before her recent major award she’s responsible, she’s babysat for other people’s kids, and she’s kind. I mean they COULD put Luna or Luaan in charge but while when I first read the preview blurb for this episode I was cuirous why they didn’t think of that or thought they would, this episode does a good job presenting WHY they’d do it, while other episodes fill in the gaps: Luna is a bit reckless and Luaan can get caught up in her bidness and as we know once a week goes through the green door and comes out a gamma monster fuled by the sound of her own laughter, a horrible mixture of the joker and madman.. the leader’s insane brother. I’m a huge nerd, you all know this. Leni is the right choice.

Despite her nerves Leni has little choice but to take it on and Mr. Loud proudly sees her out with ye olde english as he and Rita, with lily in a cute little knight’s helmet in tow, are going to a renisance fair to cater, with Lynn Sr needing the backup. And while you may say “what about his staff”.. their either going with and he just needs an extra pair of hands since it’ll be nuts, or some of them are staying behind to man Lynn’s Table while he’s out on his catering gig. I mean the man has plenty of time for his kids, he’s not at the restraunt 24 hours a day. Someone else has to run it when he’s gone. I asked internally why they didn’t just take them along.. then reminded myself that taking all 11 kids to the faire at once, without anyone to watch them and likely having to call in favors when jsuta s likely, Lynn Sr and Rita can take them all another day with presumibly free passes as part of the catering job as that sounds like the kinda thing he’d do. Also Senior’s into scarf’s now thanks to Leni, which I love. Looks good on him. Hank should give her a call. Ascots may be out but I think he could rock a scarf. I’ve had ventures on the brain.  What follows is naturally Leni having several panic attacks as chaos naturally insues btu without Lori’s lifetime of experince dealing with it. IT’s a nice dynamic: Leni, as we’ve established, has always been sort of Lori’s sidekick, her best friend, her amigo. Sure they fight, siblings do that, but they’ll always be there for each other when it counts. SHe’s never really had to THINK without her or be without her, so throwing her into the deep end of taking care of the kids really leaves her shook. It’s a HARD job, it’s probably why the louds don’t bring in babysitters often: there are 11 kids to look after, 10 now and only 9 tonight but still a LOT of them and most of htem pretty high maintince. It was just easier with Lori because she grew up knowing each of them, knowing each of their weaknesses and putting the fear of her righteous wrath into them. They’ve spent their whole lives looking up to her, literally and figuratvely, as their big sister and respecting her as the biggest authority in the house that’s nto her parents, sometimes bigger. Those aren’t just big shoes to fill , their Galactus size and that combined with her big sister worship leaves Leni understandably scared, lost and frequently paralized with anxiety this episode.  No really multiple times she just freezes and one times she screams. As someone with Anxiety disorder I related to this.. sometimes you either just break down or you just FREEZE from the stress and everything hitting you at once and have no idea how to progress while people are still barking at you to do something. It’s a lot but it was a nice touch that really added to her sympathy.   And her anxiety is also understandable when she’s being hit with 80 problems at once, which i’ll tackle all at once here rather than in order as this episode has a really frentic and good pace: while it follows the formula of “Leni runs into a problem, Leni freezes, then Leni gets help from Lori twice hten mr.grouse, more on that in am inute”, the quick pace and great jokes help keep things from feeling too repetivie. 

Anyways the chaos: Just from the start Lucy puts a possibly human liver in the fridge, Lana eats all the cookies then gets skunked by her pet skun, and Lola and Lynn get into a fight over 5 bucks Lynn found, and since Leni can’t just let one kill the other as nature intended she has to fix all this.. mostly by removing the smell with tomato juice and scaring off the skunk and cutting the dolar bill in half. Money dosen’t work that way as both sisters point out but frankly it’s Lola and Lynn, I don’t care who they feel. 

Meanwhile two of my other faviorties get into a tiff over their room: Luaan turns it into a comedy club and kicks luna out, with Scoots and her new man returning. Again, get it girl, get it, and Leni, under Lori’s advice, pretneding to be a fire marshall.. only for Luna towarsd the end to turn it into her own rock club. Lisa creates a corossive super substance that burns a hole in the floor, Lana continues to grapple with the skunk and finally Lincoln and Clyde.. watch a scary movie despite Lucy’s warnings.. and Lucy does something else.. I think? It was a chaotic episode with a lot of set pieces so forgive me if I forgot one of them. Honestly she’s the most well behaved there.But yeah as per the cliche Lincoln and Clyde, after Leni gets the wifi fixed with Mr. Grouse’s help, they get super scared and freaked. Everyomne is freaking, the house is falling apart and Senior wants permission to wear a pinky ring via thought cloud.. which.. no man no. Scarves yes but no one looks good with a pinky ring. No one. And I say that as amporphous blob covered in hair, sweat and regrets. 

As for how Leni deals with all this she leans on Lori, calling her twice, but at inportune times: during a golf game and at the library where said phone gets taken. Granted, I don’t get why she didn’t have it on silent, as I would in those situations, but then we wouldn’t have an excuse to include her and it feels necessary to show WHY Lori can’t just help all night or reassure her sister and with Lori gone the panic only intensifies. As I said she gets paralized with fear and later just outright screams.. which attracts an irate Mr Grouse, the next door neighbor who I need to watch more of’s episodes. Including 12 louds of leapin.. I know i’m way overdue on that. This december. Promise. 

The old man who yells at Louds helps for a bit, helping get rid of a beach Lynn set up because she’s lynn, she has the consderation of a puppy, but eventually falls in a hole like most great heroes and most elderly people. I mean the ones up the street at the retierment home must fall in once a week. They get out of course because the assitant living mole lets them ride out as it digs into the walls. Or maybe that was just a hallucination.  Eventually though the start at her job comes back as she calls the only people she has left for help: Fiona and Miguel, who are at the mall in chairs because of courser they are, and both are confused why she’s so helpless: She’s fantastic at work, she’s kind, confident and smart.. about certain things, she can do this. Besides helping her confidence with this really sweet moment they also give her a good tool for how to use said confdience from work: just treat her siblings as customers. It’s also a nice call back to how we’ve seen Leni learn way back in season 1 during “Driving Miss Hazy” we’ve seen that she can have troulble grasping things, but when you put it in terms she understands, like fashion, or shopping, or in this case helping customers with their issues, she snaps into it. She learns at her own pace in her own way, it’s why I think sh’es neurotypical, and possibly ont he spectrum like yours truly: while her stupidity isn’t part of that the unqiue way she processes things has me supscious. either way it works. 

So with a new strategy Leni.. literally adresses them like shoppers, which is comedy gold. However it’s a valid strategy:  besides the visualation part by getting them to form a line, instead of trying to handle 2 or 3 problems at once she simply handles them one at a time: She scares the skunk off again, shuts down both competing clubs in the older kids room, uses water to take out lisa’s universal solvant, gives Lola and Lynn 5 bucks instead of just cutting a ten in half this time, and in the sweetest moment of the episode, reads Clyde and Lincoln a childrens book to clam them down. Sure it’s  a bit funny but their genuine relief and all threes adorable expressions really melt the heart. 

Leni finally wins, just as her parents get home and congradulate her, Rita’s faith not misplaced. While Rita probably knew it’d be an adjustment, and frankly should’ve prepped her sooner, she knows her daughter and knows waht sh’es caapable of. Also Senior brought home meet and gives leni a turkey leg who gives it to the old man who now lives in a hole inside their house. That’s his home now. Mr Grouse is just there now. Or I wish he was. But I guess you can’t always get what you want epsecially if it’s an old man living in a hole in the loud’s living room. Someday.  Final thoughts for The Boss Maybe: As you could easily tell I loved this one. Funny with a hell of an emotional core, and with great pacing espeially for a loud house episode, this was a joy to watch and easily one of the best episodes the show has done. Just a funny, breezy watch with a lot of subtext, intetional or not, regarding what we’ve seen of Leni and honestly i’m going to go with intetional. It felt really rooted in who Leni is, her relationship with lori, and her work without hitting you over the head with it. It just all flowed really well and made for a hard one to top for the season this early. I’m impressed and it gives me hope for the rest of the season. 

Family Bonding

This one was.. okay. As i’ve learned the hard way from doing Amphibia when an episodes just okay it’s best to breeze through it.. but I can give it this. While it’s mostly a standard loud house episode the ending.. wasn’t predictable. That’s for sure. I mean.. it left me with only one thought really...

But i’m getting ahead of myself. The episode’s plot is standard for the most part: Lincoln’s obessed with a new spy comic book about a james bond expy.. okay so that’s what Sterling Archer did besides physical therapy for the three months between his waking up and Season 11.  Anyways they soon get more exciting news from Lynn. New Neighbors! Before Rita can stop them, the rest of her family tramples over her and goes to make their aqunatince and of course be a bit overbaring with it before Rita rushes in with a spray bottle to spray them like a bad dog because frankly when your dealing with 11 people most of whom are really impuslive, sometimes dog training just works. You try raising eleven kids and see how long before your brain breaks.  Anyways after introductions and the mom turning down cherry pie, you monsters, lincoln sees strange flashing lights and a device and is convinced something is up and unable to convince his family and on a spy kick, recurits clyde. Now why he dosen’t call on Stella and Zach I dunno. And yes I said Zach and not my boy Liam. I have my reasons: Stella, besides being a faviorite of mine, is a tech whiz as shown in one of the comics and in the cookie episode, and Liam is already a paranoid conspiracy nut and as we’ve seen with Dale Gribble, they can be suprisingly useful. I mean Dale is not the best on common sense but he knows goverment bilaws in and out, is skilled with a gun or a bag of pocket sand, and has danny trejo’s octavio, whose basically danny but as hired muscle instead of a master actor, on speed dial. I mean we don’t know if Zach dosen’t have a danny trejo on speed dial or not. We never asked.  As for the other two while I love LIam, spying just dosen’t seem to be in his sizeable skill set and Rusty.. well rusty’s about as subtle as a man covered in screeching cats he glued to himself blowing an airhorn, while screaming the script to a micheal bay movie while doing the explosion noises himself.. which Rusty has probbbly done.  The real thing i’m getting at is I don’t get why, outside of Clyde and LIam, the writers think when LIncoln has an epiosde it either just needs ot be ClyncolnMcCloud or the ENTIRE group, when one or two would do the trick. YOu CAN seperate them out. People do hang out with diffrent friends at diffrent times. I know the show’s grasp on reality is tenous at best, we got to that last week with the whole one teacher for core classes thing with schooled and this week.. again we’ll get to it in a second, but friends DO hang out seperate. We saw each member of the Lincrew, minus stella because she didn’t exist yet, doing their own thing in Racing Hearts. It’s not that complicated. It’s hard to flesht hem out when their used as one solid unit and not unresonable to just use one or two. it’s a lesson I hope the show learns eventually and hope it’s sister show learns too. 

But yeah our dynamic duo spend the episode as youd’ expect; unraveling conspriacies and stalking the new family, though there are some funny bits. Besides Rita squirting her family like a cat or a dog, we have flip getting half his face shaved by a survelince drone and okay maybe just those two things. not bad bits, but the general concept of them roleplaying into mischief.. has been done before. The show’s done the detective bit before and the spy trappings really don’t change that. And you CAN do a good spy takeoff episode, this one just sin’t it and feels like your standard LIncoln and Clyde messaround with tuxedos. Which to be fair are pretty awesome but still. It’s pretty flat.  The climax though? I’ll give it this.. it’s pretty entertainngi if also 100% what exactly the fuck. So our heroes are naturally caught sneaking into the neighbors house and its eems they were wrong, etc etc, exactly what we expected the new kid will hang around.. at least we have a new character. Instead.. LIncoln accidently hits a knob and unveils a panel

So yeah... turns out the new family ARE spies, just for Peach Growers and plan to wipe out all cherries in royal woods. Yup.. look I know this universe is patently insane but even for loud house, even with all of lisa’s super science... even with the slapstick but this is just.. nuts. Like i’m fine with suspending my disbelif, this show is a goofy comedy, but this is a bit much. I LOVE it for being nuts but only in a “what on spagehtti monster’s green earth were you thinking”. I get swinging for the fences but Lincoln getting into a fight with a bunch of spies after playing spy, well beating them with slapsticks and stopping their plot to elmitie cherries..t his isn’t Kids Next Door. This just.. dosen’t work. Jeff Goldblum tell em why, my brains too broken to articulate this anymore

Yeah that. It’s just a weird climax and ends iwth LIncoln vetting the new neighbors.. which does it include girl jordon? Did they just write her out? If so why? Fans liked her, you can have more than one female character in Lincoln’s friend group. Zach is replacable. You can give me whatever the fuck this was, but not an intresting friend for him who has personality already. I get 50% chad but not your decision making. Gah. 

Final Thoughts for .. this. one This one really didn’t work. Besides the ending just not fitting the series specific brand of ludicrous, I mentioned KND for a reason as it made this sort of plot work fine by having it’s whole unvierse be really fucking weird and specific, it’s mostly just okay. We’ve seen this before.. well okay I haven’t watched many of the Lincoln and Clyde messarounds, but the formula’s about the same.  And that dosen’t work. For one you have a HUGE swath of new possiblities: A new school, Chandler coming back, new teachers and faculity, a new principal, and Lynn and LIncoln being in the same school, and you instead just.. retread the same crap. you have 4 of lincoln’s friends other than clyde to use but don’t let them in on the fun. And most agrivating to me you move new neighbors into the neighborhood while neglecting some of your old supporting cast and have them be villians of the week instead of adding someone NEW to the neighborhood. Give one of the other kids a new friend, or give lincoln a new friend to add to his group and replace liam, shake up the dynamic with him and clyde bya dding a third or, most obviously move one of his friends INTO the neighborhood, most obviously stella since you spent so much time building her up then have her addition affect Lincoln and Clyde. Sure we’ve had an episdoe of one of his friends getting in the way of them before, but this would be diffrent. This episode is just.. not great and was a waste of my time, espespcailly after following such a stellar episode. It’s probablyt he first genuinely bad episode i’ve covered on this blog. Now that probably won’t stand, i’ve seen genuiley worse but.. as a wise penguin once said. 

One last note. That Young Dylan graphic is really obnoxiou and obtrusive.  It’s the second most obnoxious thing i’ve seen on this network. 

I”m out for this week. If you want more check out my Amphibia reviews, as I just finished a new one today, my other loud house reviews in the newly minted nickelodeon tab or other stuff on my other tabs, send me an ask for reviews you’d like to see or pay me to review whatver you want for 5 bucks via direct message. And check this blog Monday for the return of weekly Ducktales coverage, and next weekend for the next episode of loud house, and throughotu the week for more reviews.  Until we meet again, GO TEAM VENTURE!. Play us out Mary Kate Wiles. If nothing else this episode let me use this song. 

[apathycarestostudy]

Motivate me to get my butt in gear friend !! Uni opens again in a month !! Must finish syllabus before then !! Must stop reading fics and being in denial! Help! (P.S ily :p♡)

Hello hello love. Here are some tips I think will help, mixed in with a bit of nagging, wrapped up with some tough love!

So here we are. First, I’d like to commend you for recognizing that it’s time to get back on the hamster wheel so soon. You’ve a month left, which is ample enough. 

Don’t beat yourself up with time lost

You might be thinking you should’ve gotten up sooner, or done more, or done something some time ago. That doesn’t matter anymore. Yes, I’m an advocate of owning up to your faults, but for one second - recognize it, acknowledge it, and then move the hell on. Never mull on it unless it poses a problem and mulling on it would fix it. So stop all those thoughts - make a firm decision that you will drop all berating, toxic, or otherwise negative thoughts at the door. It won’t go away soon, you’ll need to keep stopping yourself mid-thought, but try to get it down. It’s a simple thing to start with, and I believe you can do this much. My mom always tells me, once someone apologizes, take their apology and leave it at that. The resentment won’t go away quickly, but release it. And I believe when you apologize to yourself, you should forgive yourself, and release.

So please release it.

The three Ps I just made up - paper, pen & plan (or phone, pad & plan)

I tried lmao. Phones be ruining everything. If you didn’t get it tho, by pad, I meant notepad or memo or whatever’s on phones these days. Specialized apps, all of it. It’s just that none of them started with a P and I -

Get your preferred medium of...recording stuff, and don’t make a plan. Yet. I want you to write down a list of things you need to get down before the month is up. A sentence per task. For example:

Get more connections on LinkedIn

Save up 20% of my allowance

Finish a writing commission

Finish a course I signed up for

(..........)

So something like that. One liners you need to finish up. And then don’t plan yet. After you’re done listing everything that needs to get done, you split the page in half (or just write it next to it in parentheses on your phone like this) and write “constraints”. Not emotional ones at first - try and write a logical constraint. Like for the course I signed up for, the logical constraint would be I have no time for it anymore because I got something better - an internship opportunity - and the emotional constraint would be I’m not interested in it anymore, or I don’t wanna lol. So write up some logical constraints. Is the workload a lot? Are you family members sending you off to do stuff for them and you have no choice but to do them and forsake your time? Do you not have an empty notebook to get started? These are all valid hurdles you may face.

Now, if you have some that have no constraints yet, write your emotional ones. You don’t want to. You’d rather do something else. Fanfiction. All of that. 

Look back at your list. What’s causing the emotional ones? How can you get rid of the logical ones? Remove them, run away from them, address them, or ignore them - pick one.

Now, plan.

Distractions

So when I feel like I should get up and do something, I’m learning to seize that feeling prematurely and do it. I say prematurely because you know when the thought matures, you’re gonna talk yourself out of it or dismiss it, so you gotta grab that as soon as it crosses your mind. How to stop doing what you’re doing immediately? Remove access to the distraction. And I don’t mean use those apps - although if it works for you, go on with your bad self. If not, do the old school method of throwing your phone to the roof of your cupboard. 

Yeah. I had this period of time where nothing stopped me from indulging in fanficion - not even deadlines and consequences, which are the biggest things that drive me to do stuff, and the only way I could get over it was to throw my phone over the cupboard. I gave myself a hurdle to stop me from pulling it back towards myself, and not only that, imagine the shame of getting a chair, dragging it all the way to the cupboard, climbing up on that thing, and then pulling your phone down - just squeezing lemon juice in your damn eye and living with that burn. So, put a hurdle up.

(cupboard = dresser btw, not sure which word y’all use so)

You don’t need a whole lot to get started

Going back to not having an empty notebook. There was a time I needed one to get started, but I didn’t want to go out and buy one, and so I kept putting off my work and blaming the fact that I don’t have a notebook. You don’t really need the notebook to get started. I could’ve easily pulled out my laptop and used One Note or MS Word or whatever if I really wanted to work. I mean I hate using digital stuff, but I could’ve sucked it up if I really didn’t want to go out and really wanted to work. The right answer was I really didn’t want to work, not the notebook.

Just start. Screw the notebook, screw your shitty pen, screw the messy table - just start. Shove all the mess to the edge and cram your arms in that tiny space and just start. You don’t need highlighters or a bottle of water or quiet time or the lights dimmed three notches down or your face moisturized or your plants watered - just start.

Not saying all of that is unnecessary, or wouldn’t help, but when it comes down to it, you don’t need all that to start. Don’t waste your time preparing to study or work. Just start.

Just start. Get your scrappy paper that’s 1/4 cut in a weird angle and just start.

One thing is better than nothing

I know I’ve said that a whole lot. A WHOLE LOT. But it’s true, and you truly need to take that to heart. If you’ve scratched one thing off your list, that’s good. 

But here’s what I’d do if I felt like I needed to do more.

First, seize that feeling. Next, do more. Start a little mantra of, “Just one more!” and do it like you’re taking one more cookie out the cookie jar. One more cupcake. One more chip. One more practice question. Romanticize it. Say it like you desperately want it, even if you don’t and do it. Oftentimes it’s the start that has us feeling some type of way, but once you accept what it is - as in you start eating it a little more quickly - you’ll sink into it and release that feeling. Next thing you know, you’ll find yourself done with one more thing.

Still tho, one thing today is one thing off your plate. Celebrate that, and promise you’ll do one more - at that moment or some other time.

Lesson from Naruto: give yourself a self-rule!

So there was this character in Naruto that was a total failure. He didn’t make it into the ninja academy, so he decided to give himself a self-rule: “If I run 500 laps, I’ll be accepted as an alternate.” which means he’ll be placed as a back up in case an already accepted student drops out. His father finds out, scolds him, and says that’s not a self-rule. That’s a wish. A self-rule doesn’t involve anyone else. A failure to accomplish what you say is accountable to you. Not circumstance, not anyone else. 

His father says, “Because of that [a self-rule on your self only], you are able to gather your strengths and focus on your efforts...That is how a self-rule works!” So how does the character change it? “If I can’t do 500 laps on my hands, I’ll do 500 push-ups!”

You see what I’m going for? 

I am not saying do 500 laps on your hands - this is a ninja anime we’re talking about here - I’m saying apply a self-rule that keeps you accountable and feeds into your efforts. Say, “If I can’t do ten practice questions, I’ll do ten rounds of this example question!” Give yourself an alternative you have to do if you fail your first attempt, and have it be of the same magnitude. What happens if you can’t do both? Keep adding on of course! The character would say, “If I can’t do 500 laps on my hands, I’ll do 500 push-ups! And if I can’t do 500 push-ups, I’ll do 500 sit-ups!”

Limitations exist, and you may not be able to get it the first few times, but eventually, the character manages to do 5000 laps - and he falls tiredly into his father’s waiting arms.

Just a little nice bonus I thought would be fun to add. I do something like this, but not as well thought out of course - I’d say something like, “I’ll do process design questions right now, and if I give up half-way, chemical separation processes is waiting for me.”

I thought I’d stop here because it’s getting kind of ramble-y and I think this’ll be enough of a push to get you started. Maybe not a push even - a nice little pat from your friend that’ll evolve into a push by your fine self. You can do it. Just start LOL.

I’mma end this with a positive note from that same episode of Naruto. Here’s a quote from that father to his son when he asked him why he was so chipper when he failed so much and couldn’t be “strong” (as in overcome the obstacles in his way). I see this in our lives, be it with friendships, biting your tongue when your boss yells at you, or giving up after failing a class.

“True victory isn’t about winning from someone strong. It’s about defending what’s important to you!”

[micahscowgirl]

Bite me ~ Chapter 3

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Cursing, Knife Play (not sexual sort of but still there), Girl x Reader (at the end)

Word Count: 3220

Wow, okay, this just happened. So, in my notes when I was planning this chapter, this part didn’t exist. Like, at all. This entire chapter was just a gap in between two bullets in my notes. The bullets were: Dutch asks you to go on a mission. And after the mission, Micah and you have to get a room at the saloon because of some O’Driscoll boys. That’s. All. This entire chapter came to me once I started typing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. I would say I’m sorry, buuuuut... I’m not <3

Chapter 3

The morning was foggy, the smell of dew in the air. You had gotten a good night’s rest and thought your day was going to be a good one. You were wrong. After exiting your tent and tying the flap up, Dutch waved you over to his tent. 

"Are we sleeping in now?" he says with a smirk. "Wish I got the memo, I woke up a couple of hours ago like most everyone else."

"Sorry, Dutch. Haven't slept that good in a while, I guess my body was refusing to wake up."

"I'm just picking on you, darling," Dutch winks. "Now that you're up, I have a task for you. I want you to head into Valentine and meet with a man Uncle met. He has a lead on a farmhouse. I already talked to Micah about everything--"

"Wait, Micah? You can't be serious. You saw how well we worked together in Strawberry." you say sarcastically.

"I saw that Micah slipped up. But I've also seen the energy between the two of you. Something spectacular. Y'alls talents work well with each other." He laughs. "I need someone strong to keep that boy in line." He pauses to take a long draw from his cigar. "While it's still early, the two of you should head out. Both of you need to head to Smithfield's Saloon. I saw Micah out by the horses earlier, I would talk with him, I explained most of everything yesterday to him."

You nod, knowing there's nothing you could do to change his mind, and head to find Micah. You find him sitting on a barrel past the horses, sharpening one of his knives. He glances up at you, looks you up and down, smirks, then continues what he was doing.

"You know, I've noticed that your shirt choice has changed since you decided to go out to play with Charles. They button up higher. You hiding something, dollface?" He looks back up, hoping for a reaction. 

"Yeah, some asshole thought it would be a fun trick to stick his nose in other people’s business, and thought it was even funnier when I hurt myself. Some dick he was." 

"You better watch that mouth of yours, princess," he stands and moves so he's just inches from you. You know it drives him crazy when you hold your ground. "Talk like that to the wrong person, you're giving yourself a death wish." Cigarette smoke is fresh on his breath. You're honestly surprised at the absence of whiskey.

"You're the most 'wrong person' I know, Mr. Bell. Why don't you take that knife of yours and stab me right here." You rip open the top of your shirt, revealing your breasts peeking from your chemise, and point to the bruise he caused. "Look at that, you already created the perfect target."

He looks down and smiles, then looks back up to your eyes, staring deeply. He lifts the freshly sharpened knife up and places the tip of it right on his mark. It wasn't enough to hurt you, but he wasn't being gentle either. You twitch barely, but it was still enough for him to notice. His face is so close your noses are almost touching. "What's wrong, doll," He moves to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "You scared?" He moves the knife slightly, making a small cut right on your bruise. You whimper, causing him to grin. 

You feel his mustache tickling your ear. It's hard to remain still. Micah has managed to make you wet. Your clit is throbbing. In this moment, all you can concentrate on is him. Without the smell of whiskey, you smell him. His musk, sweat. His breath is making you hot. You want him to bite you, grab your waist hard, and use you. Your breathing hard now, every inhale causing the knife to poke your breast, not cutting you, but causing you to shiver in anticipation. He moves his head back to look at you, lifting the knife up, right in between your faces, admiring the small amount of blood on it. Continuing to smile like an animal, he says, "You going to hold that tongue now?" You remain silent. "That's better. You be a good girl, now." He steps back, sheaving his knife, not caring to wipe it off. You breathe out hard. Fuck, you wanted him.

He walks over to Baylock, "We should get going now, got to get to Valentine. We're already running behind schedule." He tries to hide his smile, but you see it. You make your way over to your horse and mount. He trots over, "After you, doll." You kick your horse and move out of camp. You're still hot, but coming to your senses, you realize how stupid you were. He was being a complete dick, and you managed to get turned on. You hated him more now or at least convinced yourself that you did.

~~~~~~

The two of you arrive at the saloon in Valentine. After dismounting your horse, you look at Micah. Neither of you had said anything since camp.

"Well, this is the place."

"After you, doll. Show us your talent. I’ve never seen you in action." You nod, and turn towards the door, popping a button open on your shirt first. You would normally do two or three, but the bruise wasn't very appealing. One still allows enough for a peek.

You walk in and spot the man that must've been who Uncle told Dutch about. 

"Mr. Davis?" He turns, acknowledging that he's your guy. Micah leans against the wall near the entrance. You sit on the stool next to the man and motion the bartender. "I'll take a beer please."

"I must say, you aren't the 'man' I was expecting to meet here." He seems nervous.

"What can I say, some things take a women's touch." You rest your hand on the man’s knee as your beer was delivered. You nod your thanks then turn to face your lead. After sipping your drink, you continue. "Now, darling, why don't you tell me what all the fuss was about. I was sent all this way, it better be good." You keep your eyes locked on his, parting your lips slightly, holding his attention.

"Well, um, ma'am, it's my boss. He has been working me to death--I work on his farm--so I asked for some time off." You catch him stealing a quick glance down at your chest. You gently draw soft circles on his knee with your fingers. "Well, he ended up just firing me. Said I was a burden to him anyway. I-I've been working for him for years, I've been in his house. Plenty of expensive items. I even noticed a lockbox in his room. Must have tons of stuff in there, it's huge."

"Oh, I bet it is, darling," you move your hand up from his knee onto his thigh and give a gentle squeeze. He gulps. "Now let me ask you this, what do you want in return for this information."

"Well, I was hoping after you take your share, uh, you could release his cattle and burn his crops." He shrugs.

"Of course, there's always a catch." You smile. "You want me to be a bad girl, don't you. I don't think that will get you your job back, though, sugar."

"I-I don't want it back. He was never fair to me. I just want him to pay."

"Of course, anything for you, darling." You lean back and pull out your map, laying it on the bar. "Now, where is this house?"

He leans forward onto the counter and starts to trace down a road. As he does, you slide your arm under his, resting in on his leg. You can feel the nervous heat coming off his entire body. 

He finishes up and you thank him. You stand from your stool, making sure to move your breasts past his wandering eyes. "Thank you, dear, you've been very helpful." You place your hand on his shoulder and leave a small kiss on his cheek. "Your wish is my command. That bastard is gonna regret getting rid of his best help, 'cause he's gonna need it after tonight."

You place a quarter on the bar and then walk away, winking at Micah as you pass him, pushing through the doors. The man watches you as you leave. Micah can't help but chuckle at how red the man’s face became, then he follows you out.

Once you are back on your horse, Micah speaks, "Well, well, well. Aren't you a dirty girl." You ignore his ‘compliment’, knowing if you linger on it, you might feel yourself get hot again. 

"Got us the information, didn't I?" He smiles. You realize that he actually has a nice smile. When it's genuine, anyway. "Come on, let's find this place before it gets dark."

~~~~~~

Your pocket watch read 11:54 pm. You and Micah were both leaning against a rock, sitting on the ground. His head was hanging towards his chest and his hat was pulled down in front of his eyes. You reach over and grab his shoulder, shaking him. "Wake up, Micah, the lights have been out for an hour now."

He lifts his head and pulls back his hat. "You know I don't sleep." He looks at you. You smelt whiskey, now. He had drunk half a bottle when you had first arrived at the house a few hours ago. "Are you ready?" 

You nod, holding up a box of matches and your gun. He made it very clear that he wanted to go into the house and you should take care of Mr. Davis' bidding. Micah didn't want you even doing that, but you didn't agree with breaking promises. Both of your stand and start to walk towards the house. Micah starts to walk up the porch, but you grab his wrist to get his attention first. He looks at you. "No. Shooting. We don't need to fuck this one up. And be careful, don't need you getting killed."

"Awe, how sweet. Didn't think you cared, sweetheart."

You wrinkle your nose. "You wish, I just care about the cash you return with. Although, if I'm being honest, if you die, I can't kill you later on."

He chuckles, "Keep dreaming, doll, you'll be dead long before you get that chance. Because of me, of course."

You let go of his wrist, letting him enter the house. You make your way over to the fence the cattle are housed in. You follow it until you find the gate. Locked, of course. You pull out your lock breaker and get to work. It's only a few minutes later when Micah shows up. You've already led four cows outside the fence. You don't need to get them all out, just a few to lead the rest. Micah nods at you, and you both make your way to the side of the fence opposite the gate. Convenient enough, the wheat you were going to burn was right next to outside the fence where you stood.

"You ready to run, doll?" You nod. He points to the woods nearest the both of you. "That way. Whatever you do, do not stop running. Should bring us right back to our horses."

"I'm ready." You strike a match and throw it into the dry crops. Immediately, Micah and you both shoot your guns into the air, yelling at the cattle. "Yah! Yah!" All of the cows panic at once. The cows you let out, start to run off. The rest of them start to follow. You hear yelling from the house.

"Now!" he yells. You take off into the trees. He was faster than you, but you kept running. There were no gunshots, no shouting, but you kept running. Eventually, you came up to the horses, Micah was already mounting Baylock. You do the same and then you both make your way back towards Valentine. 

You look over at him and you start to laugh. "Oh my god! We did it!"

He had a big smile on his face, "I guess we did, didn't we!" He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a huge jewelry bag. You smile at him. "Wait, it gets better." He puts it back, reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a bundle of cash. "It's at least 500, maybe more! Plus the bag!"

"Micah, I must say I'm impressed. I think you deserve a drink!"

~~~~~~

You were sitting with Micah in the same saloon you were in earlier, this time in celebration. There was a couch on the upper floor that the two of you had claimed. It was almost 2 am, but the saloon was still crowded. Drunks surrounded the bar, a few men were playing poker, and a few girls were looking around for work. Micah and you were drinking and you were more than a little drunk.

"Micah. You know, Dutch doesn't know, like, know, know."

"What are you on about, Darlin'" Micah was drunk as well, sitting with his arm around your shoulders.

"The take. The cash. He doesn’t know what we got. I wanna keep it. I mean," you giggle. "I'm a 'bad girl'." You mimick your conversation with Mr. Davis.

"Indeed you are. Bad and dirty." He reaches over and unbuttons a couple more buttons on your shirt. The first one was still undone already. He touches your bruise. "See? Dirty. And so naughty for playing your little arrow trick on me." You giggle again. "I still haven't gotten you back for that."

"Micah!"

"What? Quiet down!"

You hold up your bottle. "I'm dry." You make a pouty face. He sighs. "Pleaase."

He grins, then stands to walk down and get you another. 

You watch him as he walks away. After your glance leaves him, you see one of the saloon girls sitting down and smoking. You once again thought of a way to fuck with Micah. He made you wet earlier that day, you wanted him hot as well.

You get the girl’s attention and motion her to you. She has brown, thick curls, held back with a pin. Her dress was a dark burgundy, tied tight around her waist, perking her breasts up. As she got closer, you saw how beautiful she was; her pale face was covered in dark freckles. She was wearing makeup that matched her dress. 

"Hello, miss," you say, giggling still. "I'll give you 10 dollars if you help me out." She sits next to you in Micah's seat, nodding. That was more than she normally charged for almost anything. You pull out the money and give it to her. "That man," you point down to Micah, who is waiting at the bar. "That's a real dirty man. He did this to me." You show her the bruise through your unbuttoned shirt. "Nothing too bad, but I wanna get him back, ya know?" She nods again. "I need you to kiss me. Hard and rough; he likes it rough. I want you to play with me. Play the part." She looks surprised, such easy money!

You see him taking the two beers from the bartender. "Okay, he's coming."

You reach your right hand up into her hair and pull her in to kiss you. You reach your other hand to her waist. She follows, wrapping one arm around your neck, and placing the other on your thigh. You might be doing this as a joke, but you still get turned on. Your tongue slips out tasting her lips. She lets you in, letting a small noise escaped her lips. She's enjoying this, too. Through all the bad in the world, having someone kiss you and feel you can make everything better.

Micah reaches the top of the steps and turns to walk towards you. He stops suddenly at the sight. His breath catches and he feels himself get hot. Your hand moves up from her waist and grabs her breast. You both were squirming, trying to get closer to each other. The lights were dim on the top floor, so the blinding lights from the bottom floor blocked everyone’s view. Except for anyone who was on the top floor. Those people consisted of a drunk who was passed out on the other side of the balcony and Micah. He pulled himself together and walked closer to get a better view. He stopped directly in front of the two of you and leaned against the rail to watch.

You didn't even notice him. You were only aware of her. Her of which you didn't get her name. Her of which was enjoying this as much as you were. You stop kissing her and move to sit on her lap. That is when you noticed Micah, standing there, watching the show. Your show. You grab her face and kissed again, hard. One hand was on your waist, the other on your breast. You slowly start to grind on her lap, wanting her to feel your lust. She reaches in your shirt to fully grab your breast. You let out a small moan when she pinched your nipple. You were getting wet now. She pulled from your mouth and placed her lips on your neck. She moved them down until they were on the breast she was grabbing. She sucked on the tender skin. You let your head fall back, looking straight into Micah's eyes. You were immediately pulled in. They were so deep blue, it caught you off guard every time you looked into them. 

She pulled away from your chest, making a popping noise when she released your skin. The skin was bright red, and would only get darker as the night went on. She moved down and begin to flick your nipple with her tongue. "Ah, oh my god!" You say in a gasping voice. You moan, not quietly anymore, but still hidden behind the piano and conversation of the saloon. Only you, the girl, and Micah heard your cries. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head further back. You let out another long moan, looking into his eyes still. "Micah.." you moan his name.

"You are a dirty little girl, aren't you?" He whispers to you.

She finally released herself and leaned back on the couch. Micah let go of your hair and you leaned back forward. You kissed her again, this time softer. You start to feel tired, the beers having their final effect on you. You pull from her, eyes, dreary, and whisper to her, "Th-thank you, you're ama-ama--" your panting in exhaustion.

"You're amazing," she says, and you slowly fall off her lap onto the couch. She lifts your legs and stands, lying them comfortably back down. A small snore immediately comes from your sleeping, drunken body. She looks at Micah, nods, "Sir."

He nods, then turns his attention back to you. Normally, if he saw two girls together, he would be attracted to both. But it wasn't just two girls. One of them was you. He wanted you.

He heads back down to the bar and paid for a room. You both were staying there tonight.

[florbexter]

Hiii, sorry if I’m making you do more than you should but pretty please, can you write a small one shot of Shaofei returning the tie (the one that wrapped his wound) to Tangyi and Tangyi wears it out for the day?

Hey! Thank you so much for your prompt! I totally forgot about the tie but you’re right, he should have given Tang Yi the tie back! And I see Shao Fei as someone who would have done that :D 

It took me a long while to write this but now it’s part of the March Madness Collection and I hope you’ll like this ^.^

Tied up in knots | AO3 link

Shao Feihad been to five dry cleaners with the tie. He had left the first three withouttelling them what he wanted them to clean. He had no idea why. He was a cop. Itwouldn’t be too weird for him to have blood on a piece of clothing…

He had leftthe fourth cleaning business because a little child had stood beside the woman,looking at him with big eyes, hiding behind the counter. Shao Fei had tried toexplain what had happened (and he had no idea why he had the need to justifyhimself) but his eyes had wandered to the child all the time and then he hadleft. 

Should heeven clean the tie and give it back to Tang Yi? Tang Yi had a suit shop. Itwasn’t irrational to assume that he had a big pile of ties. Would he evennotice this very tie was missing? 

The oldlady in the fifths dry cleaning store had taken one look at it, had snatched itout of Shao Fei’s hand and had said: “Blood, right? I can get the stains out inthree days. Cash only!”

Shao Feihad not dared to disagree, so he had been back in three days and paid for thecleaned tie. And it was clean, as far as he could tell. It was black, so hehadn’t really seen the bloodstains in the first place but Tang Yi had carriedhim down the mountain to safety and had made sure that he was taken care off inthe hospital so the least Shao Fei could do was to give him back a cleantie. 

He lookeddown at it in the little plastic wrap and felt silly. Zhao Zi had said to justbuy Tang Yi a new one. 

“Whatever,”Shao Fei mumbled and threw it on the passenger seat of his car and tried to getall the weird thoughts out of his head. It laid there for over a week and everytime he climbed in his car, he saw the tie and shook his head and didn’t knowwhy he wouldn’t drive to Tang Yi’s shop or office or home to just throw the tieat him? He had thought about holding it hostage until Tang Yi told him whathappened four years ago, but he was relatively sure that that would be thefirst time Tang Yi would openly laugh at him. Not just a smirk but a full-onbelly laugh. It was almost tempting for that sight alone…

“Again… avery weird thought,” he said to his steering wheel after he wanted to driveaway from a witness interview. Tang Yi’s shop wasn’t far away so maybe he couldjust give his store manager the tie? She already knew him. She was the one whohad measured his body so they could rip him off a little fortune. He still hadno idea what to do with the suit he had bought. The captain had forbidden himto annoy Tang Yi at his home or office anyway so what choices did he have?

The emptyparking spot in front of the shop was like a sign and he stopped questioninghimself and entered the store. 

It alwaysfelt like time worked differently in Tang Yi’s shop. It felt old, but moreancient then outdated and Shao Fei felt out of place. He never liked chasingTang Yi down to this shop. Or maybe it was because of all these expensive suitsand how they didn’t really seem to fit him. 

“OfficerMeng.” The store manager bowed in greeting and smiled politely. Shao Fei wasconvinced that her smile became more and more strained the more he visited, andhe was secretly pleased about it. She could strangle him with her measuringtape, he was sure of it, but annoyed people tend to snap at some point andsnapping meant saying things they don’t want to say… he firmly believed thatshe knew more about Tang Yi and his ‘real’ business than she let one. Maybe oneday she would crack. 

He smiledhis most polite smile and offered her the tie. 

“I justwanted to bring this back. Your boss lent it to me.”

She lookedat him for a moment and he felt a bit silly thrusting out the tie to her. 

“I broughtit to a dry cleaner first of course. It’s clean now.”

“What isclean now, Officer Meng?”

Shao Fei andthe store manager turned around in unison to Tang Yi, and Shao Fei may havelaughed at the synchronicity of their movement if Tang Yi’s appearance hadn’tmade him a bit speechless. He had been so sure that Tang Yi wouldn’t be in hisstore today. Did he have his timetable wrong? It was Thursday morning… hewasn’t supposed to be here! 

He openedhis mouth to say something, to ask Tang Yi why he wasn’t at the Metro BusinessHotel, but Tang Yi made a gesture with his hand and the store managerdisappeared on light feet. In his head, Shao Fei had given the tie to her andleft and now he was standing in front of Tang Yi, who wore a black tie with acrisp white button-down, less colourful and less patterned than he was familiarwith and he felt really silly with the tie in his hand. 

“It’s a bitearly for one of your delightful interrogations,” Tang Yi drawled and theeyebrow he raised was blatantly mocking Shao Fei. They hadn’t seen each othersince they had tried to flee from the mountain and Shao Fei had a bit of aproblem matching the Tang Yi he knew and had chased for more than four yearswith the Tang Yi he had met in the little abandoned house next to a fire. Itwas like trying to fit two cut-outs over another until you must admit that youcan’t move the scissor the exact same way twice. 

“Your tie,”Shao Fei said instead of the questions he really wanted to ask, like, how TangYi had been if he slept better and why he wouldn’t talk to Shao Fei!?

“It’sclean, obviously.” 

Shao Feiprided himself in knowing Tang Yi’s micro-expressions but maybe it was hisfluttering heart making it impossible to read Tang Yi’s mimic. There was a rushin his ears, and it got worse because Tang Yi stepped closer and took the tieout of his hand.

Shao Feiwas someone who ripped up packages and presents. Tang Yi, apparently, needed totake his time opening the little plastic bag the tie was wrapped in. He foldedthe tie out and the fabric slid through his fingers making Shao Fei feel likehe was seeing something obscene. His chest felt tight with some unnamedemotion, or better, an emotion he couldn’t stop feeling since their night inthe mountains. 

Shao Feiwanted to say something, anything, but he could just stand there and watch asTang Yi opened the tie he already wore and put on the other one. He didn’t evenneed a mirror; his fingers unknotted the old one with deft movements and heknotted up the new on even faster. 

Shao Feiblinked and blinked because there was no space between them to look anywhereelse and if he would take a step back, he would be enfolded by a rack of suits.Why was this store so small? Why was Tang Yi changing ties? Why was he notfinding words? He was good at talking! He knew how to avoid silence withmindless chatter and…

“Thank youfor bringing the tie back,” Tang Yi said and then he flattened the tie on hisbody with his hand and who did that? Shao Fei wanted to throw up his arms inconfusion.

“You’rewelcome, I mean… that’s the least I could do. It’s your tie, it was my fault itgot blood on it, wasn’t it? You carried me down the mountain and got me intothe hospital and…”

“How’s yourwound?”

“What?”Shao Fei had talked himself in a kind of frenzy and had thought his last wordscould be something like ‘however, have a nice day, bye’ and he could leavethis very confusing situation, but Tang Yi didn’t get the memo.

Shao Feitouched his right arm as if he had to remind himself that yes, he had a woundthere. He had a bandage over it during the day so it wouldn’t tear open. 

“It’s okay.It’s almost healed. The stitches are out, and it looks good, I guess.” 

“I’m glad,”Tang Yi said. 

“You’reglad?”

“You soundsurprised? Do you think I want my favourite policeman injured, OfficerMeng?” 

“Yourfavourite…? Are you mocking me?”

There was agrin hiding in the corner of Tang Yi’s mouth and Shao Fei had the sudden urgeto hunt it until it became a full-fledged smile. The more he thought about it,the more he looked past the case of Li Zhen, the more he realised how much ofhis urge to chase Tang Yi was because of the man himself and not because of the knowledge he had.

It was anunsettling thought.

Tang Yididn’t seem to notice that his person was about to claim every thought in ShaoFei’s mind. He just stepped closer, closed the distance between them and ShaoFei took a step back.

“What Ialways wondered”, Tang Yi said, and Shao Fei felt the suits touching his back.

Normally,Shao Fei was the one getting up into other people’s spaces. It was a greatintimidation tactic and he had the feeling he got a good grasp on what anervous gulp, the widening of pupils or the thrumming of a pulse under the skinmeant. He had no problem breathing down someone’s neck and it was a biteye-opening to see how it felt when he wasn’t the one initiating theclose-up. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had stepped back froma suspect.

“I alwayswondered,” Tang Yi said and suddenly his fingers were around the collar of ShaoFei’s denim jacket, pulling at the material. “Why don’t you have a dress codeas detectives? You run around in uniforms otherwise but the moment you getpromoted it doesn’t matter anymore? Your appearance?”

There wasthe light touch of Tang Yi’s finger on his neck and Shao Fei felt it all theway down in his stomach. A buzzing feeling spread through his whole body. Heknew he was being insulted, but Tang Yi stayed way too close and his eyes,deep and dark, travelled from Shao Fei’s jacket to his own hand as if it wasfascinating what his fingers were doing.

Shao Feiswallowed.

A phone wasringing and destroyed whatever spell Tang Yi had woven around them. Shao Feiwasn’t even sure what he had said to escape the situation or if he had justfled without a word, but he found himself back in his car with a wild poundingheart and a dry throat. He raised his own hand to touch the patch of skin TangYi had… caressed. There was no other word for it. It hadn’t been anaccidental touch.

He wasflustered about it he realized and with a groan, he put his head against thesteering wheel.

+++

“Is everythingalright?”

Shao Feiblinked and looked up at Yu Qi who frowned in concern at the chocolate wrappersdecorating most of his desk. He was a stress eater.

It wasjust a tie, hewanted to say to her.

He lookedback at the document open on his computer and saw that he had written tiein the report about an attempted robbery.

“Just a bittired,” he said and closed the file. It was almost the end of his shift, but itfelt like he had been awake for days. Had the encounter with Tang Yi reallyhappened this morning?

“I thinkI’m going home for today.” Yu Qi smiled at him and nodded in agreement. Shetook the files he had worked on and dumbed them on Zhao Zi’s desk.

“Take agood rest,” she said cheerfully and now he had no choice but to shut down hiscomputer and take his jacket. Suddenly he stood outside of the building andlooked up at the darkening sky. The weather was still pleasant, and he thoughtabout taking a stroll through the market a few streets over when he saw afamiliar figure at the edge of his vision.

Shao Feiwas devoted to his work. He knew that and the emotional shortcomings he hadrelated to that. Sometimes it took him a long time to realize what was goingon, but he was quick to accept those feelings because why dwell on somethinghis heart knew all along?

Realizingthat everything wasn’t as black and white as he had thought took time and, ashe now grasped, also a bit of pain. He massaged the skin above his heart andknew that he could decide. He could ignore Tang Yi leaning against his car orhe could walk up to him.

He stillwore the tie.

“OfficerMeng,” Tang Yi said as Shao Fei approached, and it sounded more like a pet namethan an insult. It started an ache in Shao Fei’s stomach.

There wasno one around besides them and the sinking sun highlighted Tang Yi’s hair andmade his eyes shine. Was he now allowed to think about how breathtakinglybeautiful Tang Yi was?

“What can Ido for you Tang Yi?”, Shao Fei asked.  

“Today ismy birthday,” Tang Yi said, and Shao Fei blinked. Oh… Oh, he knew that.He opened his mouth to say, ‘Happy Birthday’ but Tang Yi interrupted himbefore he could: “And I have a wish.”

It feltlike he was finally able to see as if there had been a veil over his eyes andTang Yi’s little touch, had lifted it. Shao Fei could see the want in Tang Yi’seyes, even though his face was as impassive as ever. Had he always wanted ShaoFei that way? The thought made him breathless.

“Okay,”Shao Fei said easily and didn’t hesitate as Tang Yi opened the car door forhim.

They endedup in a little apartment. A secret hiding? A safe house? Shao Fei knew thatTang Yi lived in a big mansion on the outskirt of Taipei, but he wouldn’t askif this was a lover’s nest rented for the purpose of one-night stands.

Was he aone-night stand? Shao Fei didn’t do casual. He had no idea how to be casual.

Shao Feihovered in the hallway and watched as Tang Yi slipped out of his suit jacket,hanging it, like the neat freak he probably was, on a coat rack. Shao Feislipped out of his shoes and had the urge to kick them in a corner.

“I didn’tknow about this apartment,” he blurred out and thankfully Tang Yi just smiledat him.

“No onebesides me knows about it,” he answered and helped Shao Fei out of his jacket.

“Not evenHong Ye?” Shao Fei doubted that those two did anything without informing theother.

Tang Yilaughed soundlessly and tilted his head. It made him look young and mischievousand it threw Shao Fei off a little bit. Sometimes he forgot that Tang Yi wastwo years younger than him.

They stoodclose now.

Shao Feisaw how Tang Yi scanned his face with his eyes and even though Shao Fei gotinto his car and followed him to this apartment, he still seemed to think theball was in Shao Fei’s court.

Was he supposedto say it out loud? That he was ready for whatever they were going to do here?Of course, he wasn’t ready, but he was willing to fake his confidence until heknew how to stop his heart from bursting out of his chest. He bit his lips andhis eyes travelled down from Tang Yi’s face to his neck down his chest.

The tie wasstill around Tang Yi’s collar.

Shao Feitook it and caressed the fabric. It was nice, he had to admit and with his eyesstubbornly on the task at hand, he loosened the knot. It opened quickly and ashe pulled the two strands apart his eyes fell to the skin above his fingers,still hidden by the collar of Tang Yi’s shirt. He put one finger against TangYi’s neck and smiled helplessly as he felt his racing pulse.

“Happybirthday,” he said and felt a heavy surge of arousal and confidence as he sawand felt Tang Yi swallow. Tang Yi’s pupils were blown wide open when Shao Feilooked back at him.

He grabbedTang Yi’s face and kissed him.

There was asoftness to Tang Yi’s lips he hadn’t expected, and he chased it frantically.Tang Yi’s hands slipped under his shirt and gosh he hadn’t known. Why hadn’t heknown?

It was alearning curve to kiss Tang Yi and he hesitantly tried to deepen the kiss,licking at Tang Yi’s upper lip, biting and sucking until Tang Yi moaned andShao Fei felt his fingers tighten on his skin. This was good, he thoughtdizzyingly as Tang Yi put kisses on his jawline up to his ear and Shao Feiburied his fingers in Tang Yi’s hair, when Tang Yi bit him playful in one earlobe.So good.

And he feltpowerful. Not in a way as if he suddenly had the upper hand on Tang Yi, but ina way that made him realize how big his heart could feel. He felt powerful andscared and vulnerable. Tang Yi undressed him and that was another kind ofvulnerability. He buried his face in Tang Yi’s neck and tried to hide from histhoughts and Tang Yi’s gaze but that made it impossible for Tang Yi to unbuttonhis shirt. But maybe Tang Yi knew him better than he had thought because hedidn’t try to look at Shao Fei’s face, instead, he hugged him and caressed ShaoFei’s back in long, soothing strokes. From his neck to his tailbone, withpressure, but gentle. Up and down.

Why? Whydid he feel so comfortable in the arms of a gangster, someone who was a potentialmurderer, who had answers to Shao Fei most burning questions? Why was he notrunning away?

Why – TangYi kissed him behind his ear and a full-body shiver ran over Shao Fei. Hegrabbed Tang Yi’s face again and kissed him deeply. There was a desperation toit he couldn’t stop.  He pushed Tang Yibackwards, towards the bed he had seen the moment he had stepped a foot intothis tiny apartment. They bounced a little when they fell on the mattress andShao Fei laughed breathlessly against Tang Yi’s skin. The skin of his neck,soft and addictive and Shao Fei might have touched other people before, butTang Yi felt so knew as if Shao Fei had unlearned anything from before Tang Yi.

“What doyou want?”, he asked while they tried to undress each other. It wasn’t an easytask; mostly because they needed to kiss and caress every bit of skin which gotuncovered.

“What doyou want?”, Shao Fei asked again and unbend to wriggle out of his jeans. Healmost fell off the bed but, in the end, he smiled triumphally and then smiledagainst Tang Yi’s lips as he pulled him down to him again.

“So much,”Tang Yi answered, and Shao Fei got lost in the expression in his eyes, thenaked lust in them and the way his fingers ran through the hair on the back ofhis head. Tang Yi kissed him, kissed him slowly, kissed him deliberately as ifhe wanted to make sure Shao Fei was going to remember how it felt to be kissedby him. How could he ever forget? Shao Fei melted against Tang Yi, his bodyweak and at this moment, he knew that he had been born to be kissed by Tang Yi.

Shao Feihad no clear memory on how they got undressed, where their clothes landed orwhose hands opened whose buttons but he remembered the gasp he let out whenthey embraced each other naked, the way Tang Yi’s skin felt under his hands,silky and smooth.

Tang Yi hadfound his favourite spot on Shao Fei’s collarbone, nipping and nuzzling at itwhile their bodies began to get slippery from sweat. A bittersweet ache sweptthrough Shao Fei’s body and when Tang Yi’s clever hands found his dick, he hadto take a deep breath because suddenly it all got too overwhelming and he hadthe feeling he could come on the spot.

“Oh fuck,”he said breathlessly, and Tang Yi smiled against his lips as if he wasdelighted by Shao Fei’s inability to control himself. Shao Fei held his breathand wanted to push Tang Yi gently away, but he already rolled to the side andhis mind had just stopped spinning when Tang Yi put a bottle of lube into hishands.

“You wantto kill me,” he groaned but Tang Yi only smiled at him, a regal smile, an ‘Iwant you to pleasure me’ smile and leaned back, obviously comfortable inhis nakedness and his desire to get Shao Fei’s fingers on him. Shao Fei climbedon top of him to kiss the smug smile from his lips and the lube fell from hishands because kissing Tang Yi was heaty and distracting and good.

He decidedthen and there that he needed to travel down Tang Yi’s body with his mouth,because his fingers weren’t to be trusted for remembering Tang Yi correctly.Tang Yi was encouraging every lick and every bite and every kiss with hisfingers in Shao Fei’s hair, caressing or pulling, with the roll of hips againsthim. He gasped – shocked - when Shao Fei began to tease him with his wetfingers and it was Shao Fei turn to feel smug that Tang Yi hadn’t been able tokeep track of the bottle of lube, but the intimacy took his breath away, howTang Yi opened to his fingers, writhing on them and Shao Fei said “Fuck” butwhat he wanted to say was: ‘If we never going to do this again, I will die.’Tang Yi arched his body towards him, and Shao Fei was lost in the smell andfeel of him. He mouthed along Tang Yi’s hipbone and tried to get a grip on hisimpatience, he wanted to slow down, but Tang Yi commanded to be faster, orslower or ‘Yes, right there’.

Tang Yiburied his hands in Shao Fei’s hair to pull him up to him and then it was amess of sorting limbs, the condom wrapper and Tang Yi turned on his side andShao Fei began to press into him and knew that he hurt Tang Yi with his fingerswhich dug into his tight and he moaned his pleasure against Tang Yi’s back,helplessly, utterly wrecked.

Then TangYi’s hand was on his buttocks and Shao Fei had to press forward and Tang Yijust held him there, and the pressure made Shao Fei see stars. “Fuck”, hewhispered and looked up. Tang Yi had bent his head back, the bliss clearlyvisible on his face and Shao Fei jerked, the upward thrust almost impossiblewith the way Tang Yi held him still with his hand. He put tiny, little bitesalong Tang Yi’s neck until he was at his ear and whispered, “let me”. h

He loosenedTang Yi’s hold on his butt and Tang Yi’s mouth fell open in a silent moan asShao Fei started to move in short jerky moves. Tang Yi met him in a slow,deliberate rhythm and when Tang Yi cursed as Shao Fei snaked his hand aroundhis hip to get a hold of his erection Shao Fei laughed, a punched-out breatheof air. He felt flushed and hot and indescribable happy and it was a revelationto see Tang Yi caught in the throats of passion, uninhibited, his moans loud inthe room while he moved his body to take what he wanted. Shao Fei held himselfstill and let Tang Yi use his body, let him move on his dick, let him use hishand to get pleasure at the forward thrust and when Tang Yi moved his head ShaoFei got the note and put his mouth behind Tang Yi’s ear, coaxing husky soundsof pleasure out of him.

It feltincredible and time became a blur, they got lost in the back and forth of theirbodies, the slide of Shao Fei inside Tang Yi; sometimes smooth sometimeserratic and when he felt his orgasm approach he hugged Tang Yi tight, his mouthopen against his shoulder blade, pushing and pushing and it was still a shock,the wave of pleasure sweeping through his body, the pressure suddenly gone, hisbody felt numb and alive at the same time, was he shaking? His heart raced andhe laughed helplessly and groaned when he felt Tang Yi stiffen and then thewarm release of his orgasm on his fingers.

“Happybirthday,” he said, and Tang Yi laughed as he found his hand and squeezed.

+++

Shao Feiwoke up to the soft lighting of the dawn. He felt disorientated for a moment,turned around and almost hit Tang Yi in the face… Tang Yi. Shao Fei stared athim for a few seconds.

He lookedsoft, with his hair falling in his face, his mouth slightly open, while hebreathed evenly. Shao Fei wanted to touch him, but he had no idea if the ruleshad changed, what had changed between them, what was he allowed to do?

He slippedout of bed and found his underwear. His phone was in his jacket and it showedhim that he had to go home and change if he wanted to be ready for work ontime. Tang Yi was still asleep, sprawling across the bed and Shao Fei had tothink about their conversation in the mountains. Was this one of the rare timesTang Yi allowed himself to sleep?

Shao Feitiptoed around the room and dressed. He suppressed the urge to go back to thebed to look at Tang Yi because he had no idea what to say if he woke up. On hisway out of the apartment, he spotted the tie and whatever urge made him pick itup and put it in his pocket he didn’t question it.

+++

Shao Feistared at the glass of water in his hands and since he had left Tang Yi’s apartment,he wasn’t sure how he should feel. Guilty, indifferent, ecstatic?

The day hadpassed in a haze of cases, interviews, and paperwork and he had remembered thenight with Tang Yi at the weirdest times. It had always been as if time stoodstill, or maybe more of a slow-motion of the reality around him while heremembered the way Tang Yi’s hair had tickled his face or the weight of hisdick in his hand, the taste of his lips, their fight with the blanket, alltangle up, when they had wanted to slip under it to sleep.

Hisdoorbell rang. Shao Fei frowned at the clock. It was past midnight and hecouldn’t think of someone who would visit him at this hour… maybe somebody hadused the wrong doorbell, but he pressed the intercom button anyway.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.”

Shao Feifelt that his pulse took up speed and he realized how much he had wanted it to beTang Yi.

“I have toreport a robbery. You’re really brazen for a detective to steal from me.” Therewas a growl in Tang Yi’s voice and Shao Fei smiled.

“Everyonehas layers,” he said and pressed the buzzer. He opened the door to listen forTang Yi’s footsteps on the staircase and felt agitated but in a good way. Werethose the famous butterflies doing looping’s in his stomach?

Tang Yifrowned up at him the moment he spotted Shao Fei and Shao Fei knew that heprobably shouldn’t smile at that, but he found it sexy.

“Come in,”he said.

Tang Yi’sfrowned deepened when he saw his tie around Shao Fei’s neck and Shao Fei knewthat it must look weird but he hadn’t been able to suppress the urge to wear itafter he had found it in his trousers while he had changed for work. He wasdriven on instinct when Tang Yi was concerned.

Tang Yislipped out of his shoes and pushed them next to Shao Fei’s as if it was themost natural thing in the world. He glanced around, scanned Shao Fei’s littleapartment, but his eyes landed on Shao Fei again quickly, his look intense anddark as he eyed him from head to toes.

I have yourfingerprints on my butt, Shao Fei wanted to say and hid his smile behind hishand, masking it as a cough. Tang Yi squinted at him. Maybe he should feelanxiety or embarrassment, but he just wanted to smile.

“Do youwant something to drink?”, he asked but Tang Yi shook his head.

“No. I’mhere to complain about Taipei’s police force. It’s an abuse of power.”

“What is?”

“Stealing atie and then wearing it yourself.”

It wasn’tabout the tie; Shao Fei knew that. It was probably about the way Shao Fei haddisappeared in the morning, without a word. But as a defence: Shao Fei had noidea how to act around a one-nightstand. What were the rules? Should he haveleft a note?

He had adecision to make, he realized. Like he had done when he went into Tang Yi’scar. And like then it was a one-time offer. Yes or no.

The waterspilt out of the glass when he put it on the kitchen table, but he didn’tcare.

He spreadhis arms and said: “You’re more than welcome to get the tie back.”

Tang Yibegan to smile.

+~end~+