#i literally bought a seat that's like in the main area on the very corner BUT I'M SO EXCITED

[causenessus]

ness I hope u know with all the details ur sneaking us for love notes it might turn into my wdo 😭 mac and cheese 😭 yes please I’ll eat it up

+ SAFE FLIGHT !! IM SO JEALOUS AB HADESTOWN

RAHH bro I hope U know how much of an inspiration wdo is for me and in writing this I REALLY HOPE YOU'RE GONNA ENJOY LOVE NOTES AND IDK WHY ATSUMU & MAC N CHEESE IS SUCH A PROMIMENT THOUGHT IN MY HEAD ALL THE TIME 😭😭 AND TYSM!! AA i'm going to respectfully sneakily take so many pictures of their set <33

[sassanoe]

Love at first fright - Thomas Sharpe

Masterlist

-Is a slight Marvel crossover. The main character is the younger sister of Tony Stark, the only real crossover with this.-

Thomas and Lucille Sharpe have been dead for over 100 years. Allerdale Hall had been untouched all this time. Though now there is a young woman who bought the house, unknowing of the ghost that will come with it. She is a smart, independent woman who just wanted a side project and a break from her busy life. Well, she will be getting a break, just not the kind she hoped.

The flight to Allerdale Hall took forever.“Tony, did you have to come with me?” She said, “Well, your suit I mean.” She huffed not liking that her brother sent his suit with her. “I am not a child anymore, it's an old house. What, do you think a ghost will bully me?” She sassed the suit. “No, this just helps me to feel better, should something happen you will be safe.” He responded with just as much an attitude as his sister. “I am also sending the suit so that no men bother you. You are twenty-two, a Stark, and a billionaire, little sister. I don’t exactly want anything to happen to you. Who else will yell at me?” She giggled “Literally everyone, Tony.” “It’s not the same little sister.” He chuckled. “I’ll call you later, I’m pulling into the drive now. Looks like a crime scene, here.” “Well stay safe, I love you.” “I love you too, Tony.” She smiled and hung up.

Thomas stood looking out the window at the path leading to the house. A strange contraption coming up with a woman with strange clothing getting out of the said contraption. He hoped she wasn’t coming in here, but he knew she was. Lucille will not be happy with a woman in the house. He watched as she pulled out a key then the main doors opened. He floated down to watch quietly as the young woman walked in “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Do a scan of the house and area, please. I would like to have a blueprint of the house.” A metal man came flying in going through the whole house scanning everything. Before it came back and landed next to the mystery woman again. “Miss Stark, everything has been scanned as well I sent the information to your brother.” “Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”  Thomas stayed in the shadows watching quietly.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., how long will it take to restore the home with some tech improvement?" She asked, "Should take but a month using the equipment we came with." The metal thing responded. "Perfect." Taking off her jacket, she set it on the arm of the suit. She looked around them and smiled "A perfect project. My bags, please."  Thomas smiled slightly, she was very pretty though her clothes were strange. The suit went out to retrieve her things, then followed her up the stairs. He followed behind quietly as she kept walking until she selected a room. He watched as she started to clean it with the help of the A.I. She smiled and started pulling open drawers.

 "Thomas Sharpe." He froze. Did she know he was there, waiting for anything else he went closer to see she found his diary. "Must be the former owner of the house. F.R.I.D.A.Y. search Thomas Sharpe. I wish to know as much about the owner. It will possibly help in restoring the home to its former glory." She handed his diary to the metal man. It scanned through everything in the diary, as she went about her business. 

"Thomas Sharpe, 34 years of age, engineer, industrialist, the previous owner of Allerdale Hall. His diary reads that he was sexually involved with his sister, who killed their mother, along with killing his previous wives. They would steal his wife's money then move to the next one. His sister and he had a child that was born wrong, resulting in its death. He fell in love with a woman named Edith Cushing. He is also the creator of the machine outside. Do you wish to fix that as well?" Thomas was shocked, how had the metal thing known all of these things and read his diary. "Poor man," She sighed "Yes, I wish to fix the machine, maybe get it running better. As well, would you start repairing the home's pipes and such, along with adding better electricity, so that I will be able to charge you?" "Yes, Miss Stark." The metal man left. Thomas was shocked as all the young woman had to say was, poor man. 

“This was Thomas’s room then. I'll need to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to order me a new mattress, bedding, and the bathroom also needs to be fixed. I didn't know the house would need this much love and care, but it will be worth it." She turned and put one of the boxes on the bed and started going through it before she started to pull off her top. Thomas looked away quickly, positive if he was still alive he would be red in the face. She walked through him to the dresser and he was even more shocked. She had on the smallest of shorts and a top that left barely anything to the imagination. Surely that was her undergarments. The metal thing came back into the room. "Y/N Y/M/N Stark!"

She groaned "Yes?" "What the hell do you think you're doing? Why didn't you make sure there was running water and such already there?" Thomas looked at the metal man confused, it sounded different now. "Because I am hard-headed much like my older brother." The metal man was her brother? There was a huff, "I'm sending my other suits to fix the house in a week you will leave then come back." "Dammit, Tony!" Thomas smiled slightly, such vulgar language for a woman. "As your older brother, I would feel better about it." She huffed "Fine, but I want to stay." "Deal." 

The metal man then left the room again. The woman he now knew as Y/N walked back down to the library. He watched as Lucille came from the darkness in the corner, as Y/N took a seat at the piano. "Leave her alone," Thomas growled to his sister. "What do you love her?" Lucille glared at him as Y/N started playing the piano. "She will not have what is mine!" Lucille yelled. Thomas broke a vase to try and make Y/N leave, but she just glanced then went back to playing. Lucille started to make the chandelier shake and fall. Thomas quickly tackled Y/N to the ground out of the way protecting her. Y/N screamed and then everything was quiet. He glared at Lucille before looking to Y/N. She was looking at him in shock. "W-Who are you?" She asked softly, scanning her eyes over his face. Lucille started to make her way towards them, Thomas quickly helped her up and brought her to her room before disappearing again. Y/N stood there shocked. "There is a ghost." She said quietly.

A week had passed, the house was in perfect condition thanks to her brother, and no ghost was to be seen. Walking back to her room she huffed she had been looking for him all day. "I can only assume you are watching me. I'm not scared. Honestly, I just wish to talk. Please?" She huffed and threw herself onto the bed. "I wonder, are you Sir Thomas Sharpe?" No response, she huffed and got up.

Unbeknownst to her, Thomas was in the room sitting on the end of the bed next to her. Over the week, he had learned many things about her and found himself falling in love. She was intelligent, and held her ground against her brother. She would tinker with all of his inventions, making them better. The thing he had come to love most was that she spoke to him even when she questioned if he was listening. She would read aloud, ask his opinion only to receive no answer. He thought it cute when she would call out that she was going to bathe or change and tell him he better not look.

He followed as she went to the attic. He never understood why she didn't have it fixed. She sat on the chair up there. Lucille hated it every time he came up here with her. "What is she doing in our room." Lucille snapped to Thomas, "Lucille, leave-" "Thomas?" The voice was soft, making him look to the woman in the chair. "You keep defending and protecting her! It can't simply be because she is alive. You love her, but you should only love me, Thomas!" Lucille growled at him. "What? Do you wish to fuck her too!" Thomas continued to ignore his sister.

"Would it be so hard for me to see you? Just once more, please?" Y/N said softly, "I truly wish to thank you for saving me. You didn't have to, but you did." Once again, she got no response. Walking over to the things on the table she gently ran her fingers across the top of the bed. "I am going to assume something major happened here."

Lucille looked to Thomas "Make her leave, or I will. I am sick of her calling your name. Speaking to you as if she loves you. She will never love you, because you are dead. I love you Thomas and that is enough." 

Y/N looked around and thought of everything F.R.I.D.A.Y. told her. She sighed something about the attic just gave her a weird feeling that was why she left it but she sighed. "This will be the next to go then." She walked through Thomas and Lucille going back down to her room. Everything in the home had been updated now having a slightly modern feel to it, because of this she was able to see what he looked like. Having read his diary and his journals for his machines she found she was intrigued by this man. She laid in the bed with a frown. "Your sister murdered you."

"She did." Y/N jumped out of her spot staring at him. "Thomas?" He nodded, and she smiled brightly. "Have you been watching over me?" He nodded again. "Oh please speak again. I would love to hear your voice." He smiled at that, "What is it you wish to hear?" She sat back on the bed with the brightest of smiles, asking him all her questions. He stayed answering every single one. Laying with her when it started to get late. She spoke to him of her brother and how she was sure the two would get along.

Months had passed, and the two had only grown closer. With their growing close, Thomas started to look like his human self. Though he was still very much a ghost. They would read together, cook, bake, and Y/N would show him how modern technology works. He learned she was a businesswoman and she learned he was not the murderer he seemed to think himself as. But, as their friendship and love grew, so did Lucille's jealousy. Many times Y/N was saved by Thomas from his sister. When they shared their first kiss Lucille ruined it.

Thomas and Y/N had been in the kitchen. She was dancing around the kitchen with him as they waited for her cookies to bake. Both seemed utterly happy. Her timer went off and Thomas was just not letting her go. She smiled and laughed struggling. "Thomas stop." She giggled breaking away. "Never." He smiled, grabbing her around the waist pulling her close. She looked up at him smiling before throwing flour in his face making her laugh hard. "Now you look as I had first seen you." He returned the favor, throwing some at her. She took the cookies out quickly before the two had continued to play around. Running around the island, he disappeared making her look around frantically.

 "Thomas?" She questioned quietly before she had flour dumped all over her. "Thomas! How could you!" She gasped before smirking and hugging him rubbing up on him returning the favor making him covered in flour. He hugged her tight so she couldn't move, making her smile. They both stared into each other's eyes leaning forward sharing a soft kiss. The room started to get colder and Thomas pulled away quickly looking to find Lucille. Right before she threw the knife Thomas pushed Y/N out of the way.

Ever since that day anything Y/N and Thomas started whether it is kissing or touching of any form something happened. "Thomas, darling. I am sick and tired of your sister. I can't even kiss you. This has been going on for months." Y/N sighed, taking a seat on the bed. Thomas frowned, "I know, and I'm sorry." She went to say something more before the A.I. went off speakers having been made into every room. "Miss Stark, your brother had received a book from Wanda for you regarding your situation, and it has arrived." She perked up "Lovely." "Darling what did you need a book for?" She looked to Thomas, "One to make you a physical and living man for but a few hours a day, along with a protection spell."

Later the same night had the two done the two spells granting Thomas life from dawn till dusk. The other spell simply being a protection spell in their room. No other worldly beings or ghosts will be able to bother them whilst the spell was in effect. "Are we sure this worked?" Thomas asked as she got up. "We are about to find out." He watched her confused as she opened the bedroom door before coming back over and pushing him onto the bed and kissing him.

He pulled away slightly, "Darling, why did you open the door?" She grinned, "I'm laying my claim." He still looked slightly confused and she continued. "If the protection spell worked your sister can't enter the bedroom. So I want to make love to you." His eyes widened, "You want her to see?" He asked, shocked "What if she hurts you once you leave the room?" Y/N smiled softly "Then we just won't be leaving the room." She smiled, making him smile in turn and kiss her.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

hiiiiii could you please do a will poulter imagine where the reader is in a broadway show and will comes to watch and instantly falls for them (could it be gender neutral as well if you can?) and keeps coming back to the show until he finally gets the courage to ask them out, but the reader is the one who makes the first move? i’d literally love u forever

Of course! What a cute idea 😊

Sorry it took awhile, had to juggle school and some drama, but here it it finally lol

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often that Will got to go to a Broadway show.

After weeks and weeks of his best friend, Collar, going on and on about how amazing this play he recently discovered was, Will immediately jumped at the chance of seeing the show with him when he found out that they'd be in his hometown that week.

Will thought his ribs would be crushed from how tightly Collar hugged him. Will was lucky enough to get really good seats before they were sold out.

It was the first night that the show was in London, so they weren't surprised to see that the place was packed, but that definitely didn't lessen the excitement. "I'm so excited for this." Will expressed.

"Oh, you're gonna love it, mate." Collar replied.

Taking their seats, it was only a matter of minutes until the lights started to dim and a loud overhead voice explaining the show was about to begin and repeating how no photography or video was allowed and all that.

Will and Collar were pretty much beaming with excitement, the latter bouncing his leg up and down with anticipation.

The two friends were immediately entranced when the ensemble cast walked onstage and performed the first song, applauding along with the rest of the audience when it ended.

Main characters were quickly introduced, and Will was surprised at how much he was enjoying the show so far, but he should've known Collar had the best tastes.

A new character was introduced, and Will could not take his eyes off them. The voice that emitted from this person was almost otherworldly, he'd never thought someone could sing so well. Will could've easily said that they were beautiful as well. Maybe it was the way the spotlights shined on them, making their aura angelic in a way. They seemed to exude confidence, that in itself was so damn attractive to him.

Every time this person went onstage, Will naturally focused in on them, he didn't even realize until after the show. "I know that look," Collar smirked, "which one was it?"

Will blushed. "I don't know what you mean..."

"Mate, don't bullshit me." He laughed.

Will rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't lie to his best friend. "The one who sang that solo, before the intermission."

Collar's eyes lit up in clarity. "Oh, yeah! They were awesome. The cast usually meets fans after the show in the lobby, you should try to meet them!"

Will quickly shook his head. "No, no, no, that's okay."

"Nah, come on!" Collar grabbed Will's wrist, dragging him to the lobby with a ridiculous amount of force.

Just as Collar said, the whole main cast was lined up behind a red velvety rope, all smiling, signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. Will instantly spotted you, grinning widely while talking to a fan. You looked like the friendliest person on the planet. Obviously, Will didn't know if you were for sure, but he had a gut feeling.

You felt someone staring at you, well, hundreds of people have been staring at you every other night for the past two months now, but you were proved right when you caught the eye of a man across the room.

It took you a bit of recall, but you eventually recognized him as Will Poulter. You hadn't watched his recent stuff as you were so busy, but he was an actor you had respect and admiration for. He looked like he had taken an interest in you, which you never thought would be possible. You gave him a warm smile, and you could see his bashful gaze and blush.

"Dude, you gonna talk to them or?" Collar asked impatiently. "They just smiled at you, that's gotta be an invitation, man."

Will wanted to, so badly, but you looked busy enough as it was. "Not tonight, I'm pretty knackered if I'm being honest." Collar gave him an annoyed look, but he wasn't going to pressure him.

You saw Will leave the theatre from the corner of your eye, and you refrained from frowning. You really thought he'd come talk to you, but in a way you were thankful, you probably would've embarrassed yourself in some way. But still, you were a bit disappointed, but you still smiled when you met people who enjoyed the show.

Will pretty much slapped himself for not even trying to talk to you, so he did something rather impulsive; he bought another ticket to your show. "You haven't even met them, and you're already whipped!" Collar laughed loudly.

"Please, don't start." Will whined.

Seeing Will again at the show, in the orchestra seats, almost made you blush onstage. He was there again? Your gut told you he was there because of you, but your logic told you that you were being conceited. Maybe he just was so moved by the performances that he had to see the show again.

You felt his eyes trained on you the entire show.

After the show, you were in your dressing room, scrubbing off the caked on stage makeup that you had to wear every performance. Until your friend and co-worker barged in unannounced. "Knock, for the love of god, knock!" You snapped.

"I did!" Your friend replied, not very convincingly you might add. "Did you see that hot blonde eyeing you tonight?"

You furrowed your brows. "How'd you even see that?"

"I know when someone's eying MY friend!" They said, emphasizing the 'my'. "It's a superpower I have."

"Yeah, well, that guy was here yesterday. He must love the show a lot if he came back a second time in a row." You said while finishing taking off the makeup.

Your friend smirked. "Or maybe…he loved your performance?"

You rolled your eyes. "Stop, you'll get my hopes up."

"Well, I guess we'll see when you go out in the lobby."

You loved meeting people who enjoyed the show, especially your performances. Praise felt nice, but what felt even nicer was the fact you saw Will awkwardly making his way to the area were the cast was, shaking hands and congratulating your fellow performers.

Slowly but surely, he made his way to you with a grin. Damn, that grin could probably cure every illness in the universe, you thought. "Hello there, loved your performance!" He praised.

"Thanks! You were at the show last night too, weren't you? Or are my eyes just playing tricks on me?" You giggled.

Will scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, yeah, actually I was." He chuckled.

"Dang, you must really love the show!" You chuckled when he couldn't come up with a reply. "I'm Y/N." You stretched your hand out to shake his.

"Will." He smiled.

"Oh, I know actually! I know some of your work."

Will blinked in shock, but smiled nervously. "Oh, wow, awesome! I'd imagine doing this type of thing, traveling, how would you even find the time to relax and watch films?"

"Oh, trust me, we barely even have time to relax much less watch movies. But I remember seeing you in Son of Rambow, you were a pretty cute kid." You smiled.

Will chuckled bashfully. "That's very kind. I'd hope I'm still as cute as I was when I was little."

"You definitely are." You didn't exactly mean to sound all seductive like, but it just came out that way. You found yourself liking the way it made all of Will's blood rush to his cheeks.

"Oh, thank you." He stuttered, looking around nervously. "Well, it seems like loads of people want to meet you so, I'll get going."

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, willing yourself to tell him to stay, but all that came out was a strangled sigh. Damn it, you must've scared him off…

"They said that to you?!" Collar shouted, listening intently to Will about the encounter with you as soon as he got to his apartment. "They said you were cute. Mate, please, tell me you asked them out."

Will cringed, biting his lip and looking up to his friend in shame. "I got nervous…"

"That was your opening, man!"

"I know, I know. Just gonna have to have a go at it again…" He said, pulling out his phone with another sigh.

"Tell me your not." 

"Too late." Will showed his phone screen to reveal a newly purchased ticket to the show…again.

"You're burning a hole in your wallet."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." But he hopes it'll be worth it. "Third times a charm..."

Another night, another show, and you felt yourself having a little bit of low spirits, until your friend pulled you by the wrist to the side stage. "What're you…?"

"Look who's here, again!" Your friend whisper yelled, pulling aside the stage curtain to reveal a tiny bit of the audience waiting for the show to start. "Look there!" They pointed.

"No way…"

Will was there in the audience again!

"He must really want that ass!" Your friend guffawed, making you lightly slap their arm.

You couldn't help but blush, it was so sweet. But you thought back to the night before, he was so nervous and finicky. You realized you had to make the first move, no flirting or else he'd startle like a baby deer.

Oh boy, your nature was not able to NOT flirt. You might've thrown a couple winks to Will onstage, maybe thrown a couple smirks when you were able to. Yeah, the no flirting thing wasn't really working…

But you thought maybe it made him a bit more comfortable walking up to you easier after the show. "Damn, you have an obsession with theatre, huh?" You teased.

Will chuckled. "Yeah, I must."

"So, why are you actually coming here? Three times in a row must be hurting your bank account."

Will stayed silent for a moment, just staring into your eyes with a blush slowly rising to his cheeks. "I, uh…" He paused, "I just really love the show." He instantly cringed internally. "I should go."

"No!" You shouted accidently, startling him slightly. "Sorry, uh, why don't you stay? Our night ends in half an hour. If you don't mind, I'd love to talk to you."

Will instantly felt relieved, in a way. He nodded excitingly, causing you to grin.

"Great! I'll meet you out the front doors, okay?"

Quickly going to your dressing room, your friend hugged you tightly from behind you. "Dude, finally! I never thought I'd see the day you'd make a first move."

"Wasn't easy. Why can't extroverts act like extroverts?" You chuckled, looking over yourself in the mirror.

"You're generalizing."

"I gotta stop doing that. But anyway, I'll be back soon, hopefully he won't run off."

"Good luck." They blew a kiss.

Thankfully, Will was still waiting outside the theatre, sitting on the steps, scrolling through his phone. "Hey!" You greeted. "Sorry if I took awhile."

Will smiled, standing up from the steps. "It's totally fine."

"So, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I have a hard time believing you came here three times in a row, wasting money, just because you enjoyed the show a lot."

Will's smile dropped, looking to the ground. "Uh…you're not wrong."

"Last night, you left so quickly. Why?"

Will let out a sigh. "I got…scared, I guess." Well, he admitted that, why not admit more? "You just seem so confident, I was intimidated. But I did want to talk to you more, just didn't have the guts to, I suppose."

Another smile graced your face happily. "Well, the show is still in town for a few days, then our tour is over. I'd love to go out for a coffee or tea sometime, if you're available."

Will's eyes lit up, his grin coming back and letting out a thankful chuckle. "Yes! Yeah, I'd love to!"

"Here's my number, call me and we'll work out the details."

"Wow…" He smiled.

"What?" You asked with a giggle.

"That was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you liked it, @poulterfilms , I hope it's what you had in mind🥺

[2manyfandoms2count]

Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Summer Solitude

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC) 

Story Rating: Mature

Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic / 

Story Warnings: Cursing, sexual terms and themes, flirting, playful spanking, vague mentions of kinks, mostly fluff and just silliness

Words: 2,395

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

Written for the @bnhabookclub​​ ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Lake Date

Bingo Masterlist

Art in banner by me

“Katsuki, where the heck are you taking me?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Yeah, I would. That’s why I’m asking, you smartass.” With a playful scrunch of her nose, Koge brought his hand up to her lips, placing soft kisses along his knuckles. “We’ve been driving for almost two hours and we’re out in the middle of nowhere now!” Their hands flopping back to lay on her bare thigh, the petite woman turned her gaze back to peer out at the passing trees, the thick forest surrounding the small countryside road not giving her any hints to where they were. All Bakugou had told her was to pack things for a day outdoors and to either bring or wear her swimsuit. Koge had decided on the latter, even though the tight material had begun to grow a tad uncomfortable in specific places, especially with her minidress coverup that had a tendency to cling to every curve. 

Bakugou had followed her example, dressed in just some orange swim trunks and his typical black tank. Because of the way they had dressed, Koge thought they wouldn’t be going far, but it was clear at this point that she was mistaken. He had refused to tell her, and he wasn’t using a GPS to help her cheat or get hints, so the only real couple of clues she had was that the location was in nature and involved them getting wet somehow. 

The curiosity was killing her. 

“Well I’m not telling you. Be a salty bitch all you want, you aren’t getting shit out of me.” Bakugou rubbed his thumb along her skin, his palm hot against her thigh. “It’s a surprise for a reason, Utsuro. You’ll like it. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve been able to go out on a date and not have two wild children to deal with.” 

Koge gave a small sigh of relief at the thought, leaning her head back against the headrest. “I know! I can see now why you asked your mom to babysit. Those two little gremlins have been driving me crazy.” 

“Natsuki’s not even a year old yet, either. She’s going to be a handful.” 

“Just like her handful of a Daddy.” Koge smiled at her husband sweetly, rubbing up and down his forearm gently. “She’s literally going to be just like you. I hope you can handle it.” 

“Tch, I think you’re the one that needs to pray. I can deal with one of myself, but you’ll have to deal with two.” A small grin stretched across Bakugou’s lips, careful as he turned the car through a tight corner. “And Matsuki might be a calm little squid right now, but who knows. He may just turn into a crazy person when he gets his quirk.” 

“Katsuki, love, I have dealt with you my whole life. I can handle more of you. But you have never dealt with yourself. You’re going to go crazy, because you are crazy-- OW, hey-!” Koge burst out into giggles, trying to escape the wrath of her lover as he squeezed her leg right above her knee where she was ticklish. “No, no, don’t-! I’ll jump out of the car if you do that!” 

“Well then you’ll be left alone to wander the woods all alone while I go enjoy our date.” 

“Psh, yeah right.” Koge leaned over the console, hugging onto his arm with her cheek on his shoulder. “You’d miss me. You’d come looking for me.”

“Maybe in like… two days. Or a month.” 

“You couldn’t last a day without me. Admit it!” 

“Fine, fine. You’re right, Utsuro.” Bakugou took a moment to place a kiss on the top of her head, though he kept his focus mostly on the tight and uneven road. “Wouldn’t last a single day. Why else would I have married you?” 

“‘Cause you like the way I suck your dick.” 

“I only pretend.” 

With a click of her tongue, Koge sunk her teeth into his skin, though he didn’t bother to react as he turned off the road onto a dirt and rock path. Distracted by the change, Koge released him and sat back in her seat, beginning to see some breaks in the trees that hinted at what was beyond. “Oooh, I think we’re almost there.” 

Bakugou gave a small grunt in confirmation as the path curved, and before Koge could really prepare, they were out of the woods and thrust into a completely open field. Just as soon as they left the woods, the path turned back into a regular paved road, which ascended and curved along a grassy hill. When Koge finally caught sight of what was below, a small gasp escaped her lips, leaning against the door with her nose pressed against the window in an attempt to see better. “Wha-, Katsuki! Look at that! The water is so pretty!” 

Below them, surrounded by forest and grassy parks, was a huge lake that extended farther than Koge could see, snaking around hills and islands and coated with the early morning fog. Having left the house a little before sunrise, the earth was still coated in a misty, glowing haze as the sun struggled to climb over the rolling clouds. The beams of yellow light that broke through glistened against the beautiful blue water, sparkling like millions of tiny diamonds. Along the right side that was visible to her, Koge could see a little beach area, with tables and a few people already scattered about, trying to prepare before the summer sun hit them in full blast. 

“Are we going to that little beach?!” 

“No, fuck that. My family pays for some exclusive land up here.” 

“And you never told me this?!” 

“They just bought it!” Bakugou huffed at the accusation secrecy, glowering at his wife out of the corner of his eye. “I wanted to surprise you with it! You always say you want surprises, but then you get annoyed when it’s something I didn’t immediately tell you about.” 

“Is there a house on the land?” Koge continued her questions, ignoring his gripe for the moment. “Is it gated or fenced in? How many acres? Does it have a dock and-” 

“Utsuro! You’re rambling.” Bakugou reached over and pinched her backside, since there was a little peek of her left butt cheek while she leaned forward to see the view over the dashboard of the car. With a yelp, Koge was quick to sit back down, pouting up at him while she rubbed the now stinging skin. 

“Ouch! I’m just asking questions!” 

“You’ll see when we get there. And stay sitting down!” 

“I’m not going to go flying out of the car, Katsuki.” 

“No, I don’t mean that. I just can’t focus on driving seeing your ass peeking out of that little coverup.” 

After another thirty minutes of driving around the hillside roads with Koge asking questions that Bakugou refused to answer, they finally pulled up to a gate that was secured with a chain and large lock. After plopping a key into her hand, Koge hopped out at his request and unlocked the gate, pushing it open to allow him to drive in. Once they were through, Koge secured the gate back in place with a rattling of chains and a click of the lock, before crawling back into the car. “Oooh, that’s fancy! So secure!” 

“My mom wants to get an electric gate with a keypad later down the road, just in case we have guests and shit that one to come stay here.” 

“‘Stay’? So there is a house?” Koge smiled up at him slyly, putting the key back away where he had pulled it from originally. “You just gave it away!” 

“Tch, whatever. You can see it through the trees, anyway.” 

Sure enough, as they made their way down the driveway, a two-story house soon came into view, bringing a smile to Koge’s lips. “Damn! I can see why your parents wanted this place! Ooh! It does have a covered dock and everything! A fire pit too! Oh Katsuki, I want to live here.” 

“Maybe when we retire and the kids are out of our hair, we can get a lake house. Or just move out here, I’m sure I’ll get it when my parents are gone, if it hasn’t gone to shit or anything. Utsuro, stop bouncing in your seat, you’re shaking the car!” 

“It’s so amazing! Katsuki, I’ve always dreamed of a beach or lake house like this! I know it isn’t ours, but it’s so beautiful out here! Have you seen it all yet?” 

“Just pictures,” Bakugou parked the car, glancing at the outside of the house before looking down at his impatiently wiggling wife. Unable to resist an amused smile at her excitement, he leaned over and gave her a firm kiss on the cheek to catch her attention, though it was followed by a softer, more affectionate peck. “Happy?” 

Giggling softly with the affection, Koge turned her head to catch a quick kiss on his lips, caressing both of his cheeks. “I’m happy, Katsuki. And excited! C’mon, where’s my grand tour!” 

“I don’t know where shit is, I’ve only seen pictures. You have to take your seatbelt off before you can get out of the car, you dumbass!” 

The tour of the house was a quick one, with Koge bouncing down the halls and excitedly pointing out this feature or that detail and anything else that caught her eye. In design, it was very much like a traditional style Japanese home, much different from the modern design that Bakugou’s parents usually preferred, which is why he believed they decided to buy it. He was indifferent, but Koge was ecstatic, even her modern preferences fading away at the beauty of the house. By the time the couple got to the end of the dock, she was smiling nearly from ear to ear, taking in the beauty of the tranquil nature that surrounded them. 

“It’s beautiful here, Katsuki. I’m not as much of a nature buff as you are, but this really is so nice! The water is so clear and clean. And there’s not another person around at all! Total privacy.” Leaning over a bit, she peered down into the water, looking about for anything interesting such as fish or plants. Most of the area was just rocks that she could see with very little vegetation, which would be good for swimming, and she already found herself wanting to jump in. “Let’s go get the stuff from the car so we can swim!” 

“Sure. Y’know, it is beautiful out here. But nothing can compare to that ass in that swimsuit.” Smirk on his lips and malicious intent undetected by Koge, Bakugou waited until she was really close to the edge of the dock before bringing his full palm hard onto her ass. Paired with a push, Koge was sent squealing and flailing into the water, landing with a loud splash that rippled through the air, though it was dwarfed by Bakugou’s laughter. “Got you!” 

Coming back up to the surface, Koge first took in a large breath to gather herself, shaking her head to rid her eyes of her hair and water to glare up at him. “Katsuki! You can’t go for two attacks at once! That slap hurt.” 

“Boohoo. How’s the water-” Before he could even finish his question, Koge had stripped her coverup off and threw the bundled up ball of clothing at his face, hitting him before it fell to the wood at his feet with a slick plop. Face and chest now dripping with water, Bakugou stood there in shock for a moment before his menacing glare returned, slicking his hair back with the water that coated his forehead. “You think that was funny, Utsuro?” 

“Yeah, big guy. You deserve it.” 

“Oh yeah?” Stripping off his shirt, Bakugou tossed it aside, using only his feet to slip off his sneakers. “I deserve it? You know what you deserve?” 

“What?” Koge began to swim backwards a bit, sly smirk on her lips. “Another spanking?” 

Once all clothing was discarded besides his swim trunks, Bakugou took a few steps back before jogging forward, propelling himself off the edge of the dock to land full cannonball right in front of Koge. Before she could recover from the wave, Bakugou snatched her by the ribs, using his advantage of strength to lift her up and toss her into the air, sending her flying a few feet away as she squealed in delight. Laughing as he pushed his hair back from his face, Bakugou swam towards her. “That’s what you deserve, Utsuro.” 

“It’s not fair!” Koge latched onto him, her arms around his neck and legs latched around his waist. “I can’t do stuff like that to you! You’re too buff.” 

Caressing her body in close, Bakugou kissed her lips softly, placing a few last punishing pats on her previously spanked butt cheek. “Poor Utsuro. Too tiny to retaliate.” 

“I could retaliate. I could pinch that cute little butt. Or give you some nice blue balls. You don’t get any pussy.” 

Bakugou laughed, a sharp and amused chortle that brought a blush to Koge’s cheeks. “Yeah right! Utsuro, you’re obsessed with my dick, you wouldn’t be able to brush me off.” 

“You don’t think so?” 

“Nope.” Smirking against her lips, he squeezed a handful of her ass, only making her blush darken. “You’ve wanted to hop on my dick since this morning. You, retaliate by not letting me fuck you? That won’t ever happen.” 

“Well, how about I bet you.” Koge nudged his nose playfully with her own. “I bet you that I won’t fall for your sexual advances until tomorrow. If I win, then we buy your parents a hot tub to go along with this place-” 

“The fuck-?”

“-But if you win, then we can do that kinky thing you wanted to do, since we have time alone.” 

“Seriously? With the knives?” 

“Mhmm. But you can’t be all try hard. Everything has to be natural. Deal?” 

“You’re gonna lose. But I’ll get you tonight, you have no idea what I have planned. You’ll be falling into my arms.” 

“Apparently the only thing I’ll be falling into is the water, as you’ve so lovingly demonstrated. Ah, wait- No, Katsuki, don’t throw me again!”

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 3 || C.H

A//N: Haven’t got very much to say this time which makes a change! So... yeah... here’s chapter 3! Enjoy!!

Word Count: 9.2k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

26 Days Left

The small café bustled around her; people engrossed in the art of conversation, blinded to the passing of time as they spent their hard-earned money on overpriced coffee and small sandwiches. She sat at the small table in the corner, the cold metal of the chair beneath her squeaking with every adjustment she made to her position, her hand wrapped around the cheapest coffee she could muster the courage to purchase to avoid conversation with a stranger who would make her presence known to be unwelcome in the small business unless she bought something.

Her phone lay on the dark wooden table, the device open on her rather empty Instagram account, the few people she followed sharing photos she had already witnessed a thousand times before, the sight now boring her to the bone. She clicked on the icon which took her to her own profile, her eyes looking over the few posts she had made over the years, the last one being a year after her dad died. The single photo stood out in comparison to the others, the photograph bringing a smile to her face while also conducting nothing but pain in her heart. She had shared a photograph of a happy day; the smiles of both her parents as they stood with Eloise between them on a hill, the view behind them breathtakingly beautiful. The caption was something that she had debated over for hours when she decided to post it, it constantly being edited and changed until she settled on her decision of a simple ‘I miss you’. A small yet powerful combination of words that spoke louder than any actions could for her.

Eloise quickly swiped the app to a close, sighing quietly to herself as she listened for the sound of café door opening, the little bell stationed above the door frame making it an easy thing to track. It wasn’t her usual scene; a café like this one. It was nice but she didn’t belong there, feeling as though she was a stranger in her own city within these brightly painted walls. She had to remind herself that there was a reason as to why she was here, a reason to why she had pushed herself out of bed this morning and ventured into Queens for the second time that week. She sipped on the bitter dark liquid, the patterned mug in her hands warming her nicely as she patiently waited, her foot steadily tapping against the black panels of the floor, the lingering taste on her tongue rekindling why she wasn’t the biggest fan of coffee most days.

The café door squeaked as it was pulled open, the sound of New York traffic momentarily being heard before it was overpowered by the ringing of the small golden bell as the door brushed against it. The suction of the door connecting with the frame once again lingered in the café as two more bodies joined the already crowded business. Eloise’s eyes followed them as they walked inside, the familiar broad shoulders and caramel skin catching her attention as she watched the tall man walk about to the counter to place his order. Her eyes fell to the woman who stood by his side, noting the difference in their height, watching their body language as they joked with one another and discussed the menu in front of them. She had hoped to find him here alone but with another body to grace her presence with, she guessed she would just need to pluck up the courage and get it over with sooner than expected.

She cleared her throat as she stood from her seat, leaving her warm coffee on the table as she took a steady few steps towards the small bannister that separated the seating area from the queue of people who waited to order at the counter. She braced her hands against it, leaning forward slightly as she braced herself to grab his attention. God, what was she doing…

“Hello stranger,” She called out, the corner of her lips tilting upwards at the sight of his shoulders freezing, his body slowly turning in place as their eyes met one another’s in a familiar dance. Fake feelings, Eloise, remember fake it! “I was wondering if I could grab you for a chat quickly,” Her brown eyes fell to the woman who stood beside him, a friendly smile gracing her lips as she nodded over in the direction of the table she was sat at previously, “I’ve got a table where we could talk if you’re not too busy?”

Eloise’s chest released a deal of tension she didn’t even realise was there at the sight of his nod as his smooth voice accepted her offer, “I’d like that.”

The faded sound of his voice could be heard over the crowded conversations of the café as he called to the woman that he came with to grab his order, naming it as his ‘usual’, as he excused himself through the growing queue of customers before walking over and talking a seat opposite where Eloise sat at the petite table in the corner of the café. She couldn’t help but notice his attire; admiring the crisp, white button-up shirt, his black slacks and coinciding black boots which oddly worked with the formal fabrics on his body, the main claimant of her attention though, was the jacket he wore: a charcoal coloured pea coat. The fabric accentuated his broad shoulders, the structured lining of the coat only highlighting his mesmerising stature, making him seem as though he was more muscular than he actually was. He looked good. Actually, scratch that, he looked gorgeous, and Eloise couldn’t deny that.

“I know you said you’d find me, but I won’t lie, I didn’t expect you follow through,” His chuckle echoed in her ears, his gentle eyes finding hers from across the table, “You had me nervous that I wouldn’t see you again if I’m completely honest,”

She grasped the mug of now-cold coffee in her hands, lacing her fingers around the cold ceramic as she stared up at him, “I just wanted to thank you again for the other night and apologise again for leaving you with an almighty pair of blue balls,” She couldn’t hold back her giggle at the final words, “I do feel a little bit bad about that you’ll be glad to hear.” She noted how his cheeks at heated her words, the thought of that night briefly dancing across his mind.

“Speaking of that night, I asked you a question before you left but you seemed awfully rushed and I don’t believe you gave me a proper answer,” He teased, his eyebrows raising as his eyes watched while her own chocolate ones burrowed into his.

“From what I can recall, I told you I would think about it,”

“And I’ve decided that I’m not taking that as a valid answer, sorry, but I don’t make the rules,” Calum smirked, “The CEO of first dates doesn’t do ‘maybes’.”

Eloise had to fight the smile spreading on her face at his stupid response, every muscle in her face pressing against the urge to laugh at his terrible line.

“The CEO of first dates?” She rolled her eyes, “Really? Could you not have just said you would like a straight answer instead of throwing out that god-awful joke?”

“It made you smile though didn’t it?” He noted the corner of her mouth twitch, knowing she was fighting a smile that he had easily enticed, “So that’s a win in my book.” He was still such a smooth talker, although she couldn’t say the same about him when he was drunk.

Eloise wanted to scream at the smug smile on his face, trying to remind herself that he was a police officer, and this was all part of a plan. None of this is genuine, she kept telling herself, it’s all part of a game.

But why shouldn’t she have fun with it? Why not enjoy it while she could? Who was Eloise to deny herself a bit of fun and no feelings. No true feelings anyway.

“I guess for the sake of your reputation I better give you a ‘yes’ then,” Eloise smirked as she spoke, sipping on the disgustingly cold drink in her hands, “Can’t have you handing back a poor report to Mr. CEO.”

“He and I both greatly appreciate your cooperation, and just to show our appreciation, I’ll let you pick where we go for dinner.” Calum’s smirked matched the one wore by Eloise.

“How kind of you,” The mocking tone of her voice only enticed Calum further, “But going for dinner isn’t my style, I don’t really fit into the typical little black dress and fancy suit dinners that I’m sure you’re used to.” It was as if her body was on fire as he stared at her, the heat radiating of her hands almost as hot as the temperature the coffee previously steamed with. “Why don’t you surprise me? I’ll let you take some control.”

The way those words rolled from her tongue had Calum’s stomach doing flips, his eyes flickering for the glimpse at her lips as her tongue poked out at the final letter. Something about the girl who sat opposite him tantalised him, the way her fingers curled around the ceramic mug taunted him, the way her eyelashes fluttered with every blink made him feel things he didn’t even know were possible.

“What time will I pick you up?” The question came from his lips before he had even thought it through, his breath quite literally being stolen at the sight of her.

“Eager, are we? What if I’ve got plans tonight?”

“Cancel them.” It came out as more of an order than a friendly suggestion, his voice deepened as his stare hardened on her. His tone was the perfect mixture of silk and sandpaper, Eloise becoming fascinated by the contrast.

Her eyes held their stare out with his midnight ones, her hand grabbing hold of the napkin that sat scrunched up on the table before she held her hand out for him, “Have you got a pen?”

Calum couldn’t even register his hand reaching into his pocket, searching for the tool before his eyes dropped to her hand scribbling on the white tissue in front of him. She smiled as she pushed the napkin and pen back towards the tall god, standing to her feet as she placed the pen in the pocket of his shirt that peeped out behind his jacket, her teeth gaining a delicate hold on the inside of her bottom lip. “Let me know what time you’re coming, and I’ll send you the address. I guess I’ll see you tonight, lover boy.”

Words hadn’t even had a chance to form in Calum’s throat before she made her way outside and left the café, smirk spread across her face as she turned left onto the busy street of the city. The sun beat down on her face as she walked, Calum’s eyes following her as she soon disappeared out of sight, leaving him sat at the table with nothing but a cold coffee and messy napkin in midst. His let his eyes drop from the chair she once sat on, the ink that littered the scrunched piece material on the table catching his eye as he read the text quietly to himself, registering the pattern of numbers were in fact a phone number. She had left her phone number.

A single corner of his lip upturned as he shoved the tissue into his pocket, smirking slyly to himself at the thought of her. He couldn’t do anything else but smile or smirk when it came to her: a total stranger.

“You look pleased with yourself,” A voice called out, a takeaway cup of coffee being placed into his eyeline as his hands reached up to grasp it, his eyes glancing up to meet with Nikki’s, the woman he had abandoned at the front of the café. “But then again, when aren’t you?”

Calum rolled his eyes as he stood up, taking the food bag from her in his other hand, following her out of the café as they called their goodbyes to the owner before heading back to Nikki’s car. It was their weekly trip out of the precinct for lunch, treating themselves to their favourite sandwich from one of the best cafes in the city.

“What did she want?” Nikki’s voice cut the silence as they climbed into the vehicle. The smell of fresh bread and coffee filled the car rather quickly as their doors closed, the smell being one that Calum loved, a small comfort that made a great impact.

“She has a name, y’know,” Calum smirked as he unwrapped his sandwich, resting his left ankle on his right knee the best he could due to the small space within the car, “And it’s nothing big, I met her a few days ago so it was just a friendly chat.”

“Uh huh,” Nikki’s dark eyebrows raised as she turned in her seat, taking a gentle sip of her coffee from the black takeout cup. She could see the way Calum avoided answering her question in full, admired the effort but wasn’t stupid enough to let him off that easy. “Something about her has clearly got you smiling, Cal, and I want to know what, especially considering she doesn’t typically give people things to smile about.”

Calum’s brows furrowed at her final sentence, his eyes catching hers from the side as he took a bite of his well-compact sandwich. He chewed the contents, turning his head to give his partner an uneasy look, unsure of what she meant. Nikki knew this look; she had gotten to know it all too well over the years.

“You do know who she is right?” Nikki choked out, placing her coffee back into the cupholder of her car, holding her still-wrapped sandwich in her hand, turning further in her seat so she sat with her full attention facing Calum, “Eloise Gray? Does the name ring a bell?”

Nikki couldn’t ignore as she watched the hamster wheel inside Calum’s head began to spin, letting him piece together the few pieces of the small puzzle before a subtle wave of realisation hit him. His mind going back to the briefing he received at the station not too long ago.

“She’s Thomas Gray’s daughter, Calum, she’s a Gypsy King,” The name spat from Nikki’s tongue like a blow-dart, “And with the current case Charlie’s got going on, I don’t think it’s the best idea that you’re seen with her. It’s asking for trouble, and I’m not just talking about if Charlie were to find out.”

He kept his face calm and collected, the realisation setting in of why her name sounded so pretty being spoken from his lips. Not only did beauty drip from her name, or her eyes cause Calum to feel as though he was drowning, he had seen her before without even realising. She was in dozens of police reports that he had looked over and passed to other officers, handing them to the newly established gang unit to sort. He swore he could hear the silent clock of the car radio begin to tick as silence swallowed him, the images of the pretty brunette flashing across his mind like a laser light show.

Calum was aware of the outbreak that would occur if his Lieutenant were to discover his casual sit down with Eloise alone, never mind the innocent drunken night they had shared together. Although they were innocent to bystanders, Calum knew the true extend of his feelings between them; she was a Rubik’s cube he couldn’t solve, and he wanted to keep going back for another try. What puzzled him was that he didn’t under why he kept wanting to go back. Why he wanted to try and crack her. There was a level of infatuation he hadn’t experienced before, and it intrigued him.

“Don’t worry about it, Nik, it’s just a drunken thing that’ll fade into nothing in a few days,” Calum shrugged, picking up a fallen piece of cucumber from his sandwich, popping it into his mouth as he chewed, “Charlie doesn’t need to know nothing that doesn’t affect his case.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Cal, if anyone found out you had even spoken to one of those gang bangers you know what would happen,” Her words laced with fear for her partner. Her rough hand coming to rest on his shoulder as she squeezed it, the war going on behind his eyes visible to her as she sat opposite him within the confined space. “She’s dangerous. You need to forget and erase her, don’t let a girl like her flash a smile and make you her lap dog.”

*****

26 Days Left

The drive to his apartment was almost as pretty as him she noted, luxurious tall buildings lining the roads into the Queens; the city coming alive with energy in the early evening. Eloise couldn’t stop telling herself how crazy she was for not cancelling this date when she received his text, telling her that he would pick her up just after seven that evening. She had to remind herself multiple times as she got ready that it was part of the plan that she had to follow through with. She reminded herself that once they got the shipment, she could forget Calum existed and disappear. That’s what kept her willing to follow through with the ploy, the taste of freedom and tranquillity on the tip of her tongue and she was dying to for a bite.

Eloise subconsciously dissected Calum’s attire for the evening, noting that he clearly hadn’t changed from he had finished his shift, coming straight from the precinct to come and collect her. His coat had been discarded in the backseat, the white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the familiar black ink along his arms that lit an unbecoming flame in her stomach. He had loosened the top few buttons of the shirt, although she had noticed from the café, he had never buttoned the top two anyway, allowing for a more rugged and free spirit to be perceived of him as he drove.

She wondered if anyone else knew that he was out a date? Did they know it was with her? Eloise couldn’t help but wonder if the woman from the café this morning had asked about her? What did Calum say? Would she be mad if he didn’t tell anyone? She couldn’t be, not really. All the Gypsy Kings new about her whereabouts tonight, that being because she was technically ‘working’, which wasn’t a lie.

She couldn’t help to feel underdressed compared to Calum, even though he only wearing what he wore to work that day. She compared his white shirt and slacks to her dark jeans and oversized acid-wash black sweatshirt, the lace strap of her bra poking out where the material slumped down her shoulder. She didn’t dress for dates, what she was supposed to wear?

“Should I be worried about what you have planned?” Her eyes glanced at his focused expression before they met the road ahead, watching as they passed by a park, the sound of gentle discussion buzzing around the space from the low volume of the radio. “Please don’t tell me you’re taking me to an assault course to put me the through my paces or something.”

Calum couldn’t hold back his small laugh, shaking his head as he turned down the road to his right, continuing on his journey to their destination. “As much as I would love to see you attempt to jump one of those 8ft walls, I’m not exactly dressed for it, but maybe next time.”

“Next time?” She repeated, smirking playfully as the colour of his cheeks deepened at the realisation of his words, “We’re not even ten minutes into this date and you already think you’ll be getting another one? You’re confident, I’ll give you that.”

“Is that a yes to another date I hear?”

“It’s a maybe,” She responded, slowing down the words as they left her lips, feeling his eyes on her as they recalled their previous brief discussion of ‘maybe’ not being a valid answer.

The road Calum drove down began to familiarise with Eloise, her eyes recognising the street signs and the flowers that decorated the lampposts. She caught sign of a graffiti artist on the corner, a can in his hand as he stood back and admired the work he had created. It amused her, sitting in a car with a police officer, witnessing an act of vandalism, being a criminal herself, and feeling nothing but admiration for the artwork in her sights.

Calum couldn’t stop himself from thinking how different she was from that first sober morning they had together, the distance between them seeming cold as she desperately looked for an excuse to leave. Almost as if she were afraid of what she had done with him that night. But now, she seemed confident, full of attitude and ready for whatever would be thrown her way. She seemed as if she was ready to have fun, to enjoy herself with his company. That’s what he hoped anyway.

She could feel his eyes practically burning the side of her head at her response, his reaction to it delayed due him driving but now that he was parked, he could give his full attention. She removed herself from the car before he had a chance to speak, smirking to herself before closing the door behind her and stepping onto the grass next to his drive. The house brought back memories Eloise could only lie and say she wished to forget, memories of a secret night that no one else knew the true events of. “So, what have you got planned for this first date then? If we’re back at your place and you’re not dressed for an assault course, what could you possibly have in mind? Game night? I promise you I could kick your ass in a round of Mario Kart,”

“Will you get this stupid idea of an assault course out of your head? I can assure you that I have a plan for tonight, and it includes no running and no climbing, I promise you that. And fortunately for me by the sounds of things, no Mario Kart either.”

“Shame.” She whispered, sending a wink in his direction before she turned on her feet, making her way up to the front door of his home, hearing his own footsteps follow closely behind her.

He opened his door to reveal the familiar space to her, a space where she panicked on a different night and had set herself up for the position she was in currently. She walked inside after some gentle coaxing from Calum, removing her shoes and leaving them by the door as she followed him into the open plan living room/kitchen.

“You can make yourself comfortable and there should be some drinks in the fridge, I’m just going to quickly get changed, so I shouldn’t be long.” He excused himself, quickly disappearing down the grey hallway Eloise remembered all too well, the photograph flashing across her mind as she watched his body disappear behind the neutral coloured wall of his hallway.

Eloise stood there alone in the house of the respected detective, her warm brown eyes looking around the walls that surrounded her as she took a few silent steps and admired the home. It was nice, she couldn’t deny it. It was really nice. It seemed so homely, so warm and comforting, the complete opposite to her apartment. She felt as though she didn’t need to worry about the boiler packing in when she stood in this house, assurance being silently given that it would be never a problem, neither would any leaking taps or a broken cupboard door beneath the sink.

Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap… The noise clicked in Eloise’s ears, the sound reminding her of nails against a keyboard at a computer. Her eyes searched the room, trying to source where the repetitive clicketing was coming from. She turned around, looking towards the glass sliding door next to the TV, hearing the low repetitive sound as she turned. What was that noise? She turned again, looking towards the dining room table, remembering the individual chair where she found her jacket that morning. Tip tap – there it was again! She sighed as she looked around, her brain not being able to piece together where on earth the tapping was coming from. It was a small bark that vibrated through the room which made her suddenly realise. She leaned over the kitchen island to find a small black and white pooch sitting as he looked down at the metal food bowl in front of him.

It was a dog all along. Eloise released a sigh of relief as she walked around the kitchen counter, smiling as she knelt down next to the pup, reaching her hand out slowly, turning it so he had an opportunity to give her a sniff and decide if he would befriend her or not. In all honesty, Eloise didn’t think he cared at this point. The only thought on that little guy’s mind right now – dinner. She chuckled as he gave an inquisitive sniff, his big cow-like eyes staring up at her with a tilt of his head before he looked back down at his silver dish, brushing it with his nose and causing it to collide with the island, the clashing sound echoing briefly in the room.

“Duke, man, we get you’re hung- Oh, you’re down there!” Calum stopped himself midsentence, registering Eloise sitting cross-legged next to the hungry pup.

“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Eloise spoked as she stroked the dog, Duke’s, head before hauling herself to a stand, lifting his food bowl as she handed to Calum over the island-top, “If I’d known you had a dog, I would have said yes to a date a lot quicker. He’s adorable.”

“You hear that, mate?” Calum laughed, looking down at his canine friend, “You’ve got more lady luck than your old man.”

“He’s your secret weapon.” Eloise joked, giggling lightly as she leaned on the counter and watched as Calum fed the small pup.

She couldn’t help her eyes from drifting over to the pot that sat on the countertop on the other end of the kitchen, her curiosity getting the better of her as she moved towards it, her nose beginning to sense the smell of spices as well as a million other delicious smells that drifted from the pot. “What’s this?” She asked, reaching to lift the lid before Calum stopped her.

“That’s actually leftovers from last night,” He chuckled, “I was gonna order some takeout for us as I don’t have much in the cupboards and it seems easier to order in than make something that I don’t know if you’ll actually like.”

“What are they leftovers of?” She asked him, ignoring his idea of takeout as she lifted the pot lid, smiling to herself as she examined the food inside. It looked so good - definitely more appealing that a cheap takeaway.

“I had tried out a new recipe that I found online. I attempted to make Mongolian beef, and it ended up being edible, but I would still say takeout tastes better.” He tried to tactfully excuse Eloise from the kitchen, subtly trying to place the lid back onto the pot. He seemed to be embarrassed at his attempt at cooking.

“It probably tastes better than anything I can cook,” She shrugged, looking at him with a comforting smile, “Why don’t we just eat the rest of this? ‘T means we don’t need to wait for the food to eventually arrive, we just need to heat this up and cook some rice or something to go with it.”

“El, we don’t have to do that, there’s a pizza place literally around the corn- “

“You can order pizza if you want, but I’m gonna have some of this. Now, where do you keep your bowls?” She walked further into the middle of the kitchen, beginning to pull open cupboards as she searched for a bowl to heat her meal in.

Calum watched on as she searched, her hands collecting utensils that she thought she would need, placing them out onto the kitchen counter. “Am I not supposed to be treating you for a first date? But instead I’m letting you eat leftovers from my own dinner last night.”

“You can try and stop me, but just know it won’t end well for you.” She shrugged; a teasing smile hidden from Calum as she turned to spoon some of the aromatic heaven from the big pot into a smaller one.

He contemplated trying to stop her, to insist that he buy them a pizza, but something told him there was no changing her mind. She seemed persistent in eating what he had prepared the previous night and she seemed happy to embrace his attempt at cooking something new.

“For god’s sake Calum, just eat with me please,” She sighed, a hint of frustration teasing her voice as Calum stood there with his phone in his grip, seeming to still be contemplating ordering some form of takeaway, “Luckily for you I am the master of reheating food, so sit back and let me work my magic.”

*****

Eloise smiled widely as she place her empty bowl down on the coffee table, smiling at Calum as he ate his last few bites. “You’ve seriously got some hidden talent in the kitchen, that was so tasty.” She smiled widely, taking a sip of her beer before she rested it back down on the coaster.

“I’m glad you liked it, it’s nice to have someone else’s opinion who I can actually understand,” He laughed, “Duke will eat almost anything he can get and as much as I can appreciate his excitement by him wagging his tail I have to admit some human validation is nice.”

Eloise took his empty bowl from him, piling with hers before sitting back on the couch, turning so she faced Calum fully, her legs curling beneath as she admired the man sitting opposite her in his laid-back attire. The navy t-shirt he wore hugged his torso beautifully, the skinny jeans clinging to his legs in all the right places as he sat on the couch, head resting against his fist as he rested his focus on her.

“So, how long have you lived in New York?” She asked, trying to kick off a conversation in the hopes of avoiding awkward small talk. “When I met you that night, I noticed your accent was a bit varied, if you get what I mean, there was a hint of something in there that I couldn’t quite work out,”

He couldn’t stop the small chuckle that he let out at her comment. “I moved here when I was 18, lived in Los Angeles briefly before coming here, and before that I lived in Australia for years as it’s where I grew up,” He smiled as he talked about where he had been, “Left Sydney to try and find something new elsewhere, discovered that the New York Police Academy were taking applications, thought to give it a shot, and now all these years later, I’m here.”

Eloise noted the pride he seemed to carry when he talked about where he came from, talking about his journey from where he started to where he is now, elaborating throughout their discussion, talking about his family; his parents who still lived in Australia while his sister who lived in London for the past few years. His family seemed very well travelled, having been all over the world to visit one another and spend holidays together.

She noted to herself that she needed to ask more about his job – it was the whole reason why she was even here. Although she had to keep reminding herself of that every time she cracked smiled at him.

“Being a cop in New York must get pretty hectic. I can’t imagine the kind of things you see on a daily basis,” She spoke out, her hands cradling her beer as she tilted her head and watched while he listened, “This city is full of different kinds of people; killers, drug dealers, rapists, every imaginable kind of scum… this city is littered with them and we live amongst them while you guys risk your lives trying to catch them in order to protect the people who live here. It’s something to truly be admired.” She registered his nod as a response to her words, her sigh shallow as she took a breath and readied herself to ask another question, “What kind of investigations do you lead in your department anyway, if you don’t mind me asking? Do you guys specialise in certain areas or is it just whatever comes your way?”

Was she sounding too interested? Maybe. Did she care? No. She wanted to know what and who she was dealing with. She had a job to do, this was her way of gaining intel; information she could use to her advantage at a later date.

“A few different matters tend to come our way: homicides, narcotics, things like that. We’ve recently expanded the gang unit as well, that now comes through our precinct, so we keep track of what goes on behind the scenes of gangs like the White Wolves, the Calavera’s, the Ryders,” He listed off a few notorious names, watching as her eyes kept in line with his, “The unit specialises in taking down the groups of criminals in the city, and those three are only a selected few of who we’re chasing.”

Eloise’s heart hit rock bottom at his words, praying he didn’t notice her breath pick up as she tried to keep her composure, watching as he sighed and went to take a sip of his own beer that he had grabbed from the table. She knew they would be after the Gypsy Kings as well, silently thanking her lucky stars that he didn’t mention them. Yet.

But Calum knew she was relieved at the absence of her own gang’s name, having noticed as her body language had subtly changed as he talked about the purpose behind the hunt. Calum knew who she ran with and it surprised him that he wanted to tell her that he knew, but was it worth it? To sell himself out all because he thought she was pretty and thought she may actually like him? Was Calum enough of a mug to believe that a violent, pretty, young girl could be attracted to a law-abiding detective? Maybe.

“Why do you want to hunt them out so badly?” She asked, mentally slapping herself as soon as the words left her mouth, “Let me rephrase that, surely some are more dangerous than others, why not just go after the ones who cause physical harm to the innocent? If they aren’t hurting anyone, is it such a bad thing that they give themselves an odd name and call themselves tough?”

“It is when the Lieutenant’s obsessed with them,” He returned, “Especially Charlie, I mean, he’s got this fixation on capturing them all. He claims he wants to make New York a safer city but it’s getting out of hand, I think… I think he needs help, but no one has the guts to tell him he’s taking it too far. He wants revenge against the those who had wronged the city and it seems as though he’ll go to any length just to get what he wants.”

Eloise’s chest hitched at the acknowledgement of the police Lieutenant. His face being one that she couldn’t forget, one that brought back a sickening twist within her stomach as she recalled the times she had been graced with his presence in the past.

“I know someone like that,” She admitted, smiling sadly as she stared down at the bottle in her lap, “Someone who’s so hungry for control, for power, that something which starts of as a reasonable demand becomes such an unhealthy obsession. It causes them to blur the boundary lines of what’s reasonable and what’s flat-out wrong.”

Calum’s eyes noted how her eyes seemed to drift, wondering what she was thinking as she sat there on his couch. Her body tensed as she thought back the times years ago when she was dragged into the station, her wrists burning as they remembered the nipping sensation of the handcuffs, the tight grip of larger hands on her forearms as she was dragged and pushed into interrogation rooms. It felt as though someone had lit Eloise on fire, her chest igniting as the memories flowed through her body as if they were as fresh as yesterday.

The Australian’s eyes watched as her body worked at calming itself, sitting back and watching as he gave her a moment that she didn’t know she needed, his memory travelling back to earlier that day.

Calum sat at his desk, his curiosity getting the better of him as he urged to pull up her file on their system. He achingly denied that Nikki’s words had impacted him in some way, the word dangerous resonating in the back of his mind. But Calum knew better than to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head when his curiosity spiked. He wanted to know just how dangerous she was claimed to be; to see if he should fear the girl who he was supposed to see later that night.

The office was quiet for a change, many of the officers being out on a call or already having taken their lunch break. His fingers worked on his keyboard, his teeth barely nipping at the inside of his lip as he searched through the database on his screen. His eyes briefly scanned the first new names that opened up, sighing as he filtered through the text, finding the file that he debated opening. The click of the mouse dimly echoed in his ears as another window opened on his screen, a picture of a young brunette making itself present alongside a detailed history. Calum couldn’t help but notice how young she looked in the mugshot on screen, her eyes dull and broken, her lip nursing a rather aggressive cut along it, her hair was shorter; the colour still as vibrant as he had been a witness to that morning.

The words in the file then caught his attention, the long list of recorded events blurring together as Calum sifted through them. He skimmed over the word ‘possession’, reading the briefing that detailed that a collection of evidence didn’t hold together at trial and she was released with a non-guilty verdict at 18. Another record was found detailing an altercation when she was 16 in a subway station, being arrested for brandishing a weapon, not many details on that arrest other than she was bailed out by her uncle due to her young age. He read the history of her troubled demeanour, noting her aggression during questioning as well as aggravation towards numerous officers.

The family link caught his attention next, his eyes scanning over the blue hyperlink that stood out on the white page. His hand trailed the mouse over the screen, opening the link before he could argue with himself. His brain kept repeating, ‘If you’re going on a date with a criminal, you should know what to expect’ when really what it wanted to say was something along the lines of ‘You’re crazy. You shouldn’t go’ but her beauty intrigued him, as did everything else about her.

What was so fascinating about a troubled girl? What did she have that made Calum want her?

He was greeted with two newly opened windows on his computer, both labelled as deceased files. He took an uneasy breath, rolling his lips inside of his mouth as he picked the one of the left side to investigate first. He couldn’t hold back the expression of grimace at the photograph of the body on the cold morgue slab, sighing as he quickly minimised it, being left with the detailed document that came with the file. He read over the name, a regrettable sigh of realisation leaving his nose as his eyes followed down, reading the notes containing the tragic story and medical history of the woman in the photograph and how she had met her end. Calum’s heart tugged with sorrow at the thought of a woman, so young, meeting a brutal ending like what he had read. His dark eyes read each word with haste, the detailed description of her injuries bringing images to Calum’s mind he couldn’t bear to picturise.  

Further down the page, he found details of when her body was examined by the medical examiners; stating that she suffered severe blunt force trauma to her head, as well as a bullet to the temple before she was abandoned and left to bleed out where she was found. His stomach erupted in nerves, his mind thinking of his own family and trying to think what he would do in that situation, but he couldn’t even begin to interpret what that would be like. His eyes caught sight of the final few words on the page of the open file, reading them with intent as he pieced together what was in front of him.

The body of Natalia Gray was discovered in the evening of September 17th in 2007 by her daughter, Eloise. The 11-year-old phoned the emergency services, explaining that her mother was hurt and needed help. She mentioned that there had been some shouting as unknown men came into her home, resulting her mother ushering her in a cupboard beneath the stairs in order to protect her. Natalia was DOA. Cause of death depicted as gunshot wound to the head, labelled as murder. Details of examination were handed over to Lieutenant White for pending investigation.

Examination: September 18th, 2007

Calum released a disappointed sigh, scanning over Charlie’s title a few times as he continued down the document, expecting to find further recordings of the investigation into the murder of this woman who he learnt to be Eloise’s mother, but what he found was nothing. The file ended abruptly and had remained unchanged since the input date back in 2007. Why wasn’t it investigated further? If her death was ruled as a murder, then why was there no case file attached? Calum couldn’t help but fear that his Lieutenant’s craze for the Gypsy Kings ran so deep that his blood had turned cold. His distaste clouding his morals as he discarded a murder investigation of a child’s mother, tossing it to the side as if it was an insignificant gum wrapper. He swallowed an apprehensive breath that had hitched in his throat, his eyes staying trained on the lit-up window in front of him as he made the decision to continue.

His fingers worked as he closed the file, removing it from his screen before his dark eyes met the remaining open window on his monitor, letting out a deep breath as he prepared himself to read what he could only imagine would hold the same amount of tragedy as the first file. The name was the first thing to be seen, the name of the notorious Thomas Gray welcoming his brown eyes, as two pictures appeared that were attached to the document; one being a mugshot while the other matched the one of the lady before: his cold face as he lay on the chilling metal table of the morgue. His eyes followed through the endless stream of words, skimming the graphic details of the inhuman acts he had committed throughout the years. Calum fought with the logical side of his brain that battled with the human side, trying to block it out as he attempted to read the file as if he were an outsider looking in on a damaged family, watching as a story unfolded before him.

He noted the numerous narcotics dealings the man had hijacked, the murders he had been associated with, and the endless list of robberies he had conducted across the city and also out of state. Calum had heard the stories of what he had done throughout his time with the Gypsy Kings, the stories circling the throughout every inch of the city, but Calum never expected to see it in writing. Did Eloise know about all of this? He didn’t understand why she was his first thought when it came to this. Maybe because it was her dad? Maybe there was another reason why his heart ached at the thought her suffering with this knowledge…

Calum acknowledged the few straggling officers walking around him, ignoring what he could only dread they would say if they were to see him pulling up old files that had no affiliations with the investigations that he was currently leading.

His eyes caught the closing statement of the examination, letting them draw to a close, his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks as he let out an almost broken sigh, his head hanging low as he broke contact with the screen midsentence. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. The words stung without him realising, his body somehow numb to the pain of his heart as he thought of the girl he barely knew. How could someone witness what she had seen at such a young age, on more than one occasion, and carry on? Calum couldn’t comprehend it.

But neither did Eloise, but Calum was yet to learn that.

He let his head rest in his hand as he continued to read the sentence from where his eyes had broken from, his gut twisting almost painfully as he pushed himself to come to the end of the string of brutal words.

Thomas Gray’s body was discovered in the living room of his own home on 4th April in 2011. He was found by his daughter, Eloise, when she returned from a shopping trip, but the emergency services were contacted by an older male who remained nameless. Thomas was found with a Glock 17 in his hand with the chamber empty, a hole found in the left side of his head that matches the bullets that belong the weapon. Gunshot residue was discovered on his hands and clothes, the impact of the shot coming from a short distance resulting in a quick death. Thomas was DOA. Cause of death depicted as suicide. Details of examination were handed over to Lieutenant White for pending investigation.

Examination: April 7th, 2011.

Again, the notes were passed to Lieutenant White once the examination was complete. And again, Calum found that the file ended abruptly; no further investigation notes and no case file attached. Both deaths seeming to have been brushed under a rug and forgotten. Something didn’t feel right, Calum could sense it. Even the examination date seemed to have something incredulous about it. His nimble fingers worked as he closed Thomas’s file, his brown eyes suddenly meeting Eloise’s younger ones as he was graced with her picture yet again. He must’ve forgotten to close her lead.

Nikki’s warning of Eloise replayed yet again, almost as if now it made some sort of sense. Of course, she was dangerous, she was a grieving young woman who had to grow up without her parents. A young woman who had forgone a great tribulation, one that Calum could only imagine that burdened her with great pain and suffering.

Calum couldn’t help but wonder if she spoke to people. If she spoke to someone about the deaths of her parents or if she even acknowledged them?

Who was he kidding, of course she acknowledged them, you fool!

Eloise thought about them every day, he had no idea of the pain that she suffered for years, it only growing more intense as each year passed. And Calum couldn’t help but to, deep down, have the inkling, the desire to be the one to heal her.

For a man who hadn’t even learnt where in New York the girl called home, he couldn’t stop his heart from wishing to be the home that she searched for.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from her lips as they pressed against the lip of the bottle, her head craning back, giving him a full view of the expenditure of her neck, the faded bruises from their night together still fresh in his mind as he thought of the areas they covered, reimaging the process of painting her skin once more. “What’re you staring at, hm?” She smirked, her eyes sparkling beneath the yellow-toned overhead light.

It was as if something took over him, something took control as he let himself submit to the urge that was burning inside him. Calum’s eyes seem to darken with hunger as he watched her lips move, every syllable announced with perfection, the teasing tone of her voice rippling through him as she looked at him. It was enough to throw him off his game, and boy did it.

“An unhealthy obsession.” He spoke softly, their gazes settling on one another for slightly longer this time, her eyes catching his lips briefly as the tip of his tongue poked out the lick along the bottom bit of flesh. She tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat as casually as possible, praying she somehow didn’t grab any more of his attention as she felt the heat down her back begin to rise as his eyes burned into her own.

Calum couldn’t stop himself, his body and voice moving too fast that his brain couldn’t keep up. He hadn’t felt an urge this strong before, as if something were pulling him towards her, the pull so strong that it was impenetrable. The cliché of ‘it’s so wrong it’s so right’ was rather fitting for the attraction but it was so much more than that. Calum felt the pull to her like a magnet, like a duck to water, it felt so natural to him and he didn’t understand why.

“It’s not good for you, y’know,” She whispered, her voice surprising her as it held up, unable to fight the flutter in her chest as he moved towards her, his hand prying the green bottle from her fingers as he returned it to the coaster on the coffee table, his own bottle being placed next to it, meanwhile his eyes never losing their gaze with her dark ones. “It can destroy you and everything you love if you let it. So, are you really willing to dance with the devil just to get a taste of what you want?”

“I’ll dance through hell a thousand times over if it means I can kiss you right now.”

Their faces were mere inches from each other, their warm breaths mixing together as they froze in place, the tension between them in the room clouding both their judgment. The plan was working perfectly for Eloise but her mind didn’t even cross it, her constant reminders of it being strictly business were nowhere to be heard as her eyes searched his, finding the dark abyss within them and it becoming somewhere she desperately wanted to explore.

Something inside of both of them screamed at them to stop but they couldn’t hear it over the sound of their hearts thrashing in their ears, the world around them seeming as if it was non-existent; all that breathed around them were their bodies as they slowly closed the distance between them. It felt as if her breath was stolen as his lips connected with her pink flesh, Eloise’s heart almost crashing to a halt as his hands cupped her delicate face as he kissed her.

It wasn’t like their first kiss together in the back of the taxi, instead it being much like the kisses they shared when they had laid in bed and held one another, their brains on a gentle buzz from the alcohol they had drank at the club, but even then, this time it was better.

Her hands found the collar of his shirt, unsure of what to do with the limbs, unsure of where to place them. Why did this feel so wrong but so right? Why did Eloise’s head scream for her to pull away, but her heart told her to keep going?

Han’s voice screamed in her ears as Calum continued his gentle assault on her lips. She tried to block it out, playing it off as telling herself that it was part of the plan, that it was the scheme they had arranged. So, why did her heart hurt every time she said it? Why did a piece of guilt eat at her as if she were lying to herself every time their lips connected in a beautiful kiss?

Could Eloise- No of course not… Eloise was loyal to the Gypsy Kings, having devoted her life to their cause – although she didn’t know what that really was. She dedicated every day to making sure the gang moved forward, that their legacy continued to grow. She wasn’t about to let a crush get in the way of that, or was she? Why did the voice in her head scream at her to tell him the truth already, as if she had just placed a dangerous bet down at the roulette table in Las Vegas? Why was she listening? Surely, she couldn’t betray those who kept a roof over her head, she couldn’t rat them out to the police after not even a day of this plan being put into action.

For the amount of times Eloise was told to get out of her head, she certainly basked in it too often.

She let a soft moan slip as she felt his fingers slide with ease into her hair at the back of her head, a gentle sting resonating in the back of her skull as he tugged at it without realising. She couldn’t help the excited shudder than rippled through her as one of his hands found her thigh, the smooth touch gliding up the material of her jeans as it found her waist, the nimble fingers of the handsome Australian slipping beneath the oversized sweatshirt, his warm touch meeting her hot skin in an enticing dance. Eloise couldn’t ignore how her heart rattled within the imprisonment of her chest, the feeling reminding her of how a hammer repeatedly bangs against a nail, the force almost painful against her ribcage.

The feeling excited her but also petrified her; an estranged hum in her stomach at the sensation he created. Eloise allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, Calum’s hands only grasping her waist as he lifted her with ease, settling her in his lap, never allowing a moment for their lips to detach as she pressed herself against him. Their fronts connected as Eloise straddled the handsome detective, her mind blurring as for a moment she forgot where she was and why she was doing this in the first place, allowing herself to become lost in the world of Calum, travelling down an unknown path on an uncharted adventure with no way of knowing how she was supposed to go back. And she didn’t entirely mind.

---

Tag List: @steviemae​

[the-beacons-of-minas-tirith]

Together From Now On

Fandom: Castle Rock/Stephen King

Ship: Joy x Chance

Words: 1862

Part: 1/?

Rating: G (fluff, kissing)

Notes: This is literally the very first fanfic I have published. I’m not a huge ff writer, but the “bury your gays” trope is one of my biggest pet peeves and I just really really wanted to correct it this time. I haven’t had a lot of time for writing lately, so I figured I’d post what I had so far and continue the story. Spoilers for Castle Rock S2

@fanpageknight @wormoffthestring sorry it took so long! Here it is!

The sky was gathering with clouds, a familiar scent on the wind: rain was coming. Through the open window of the passenger seat, Joy Ingalls looked out at the wooded landscape that seemed endless. But, she wasn’t really Joy Ingalls, was she? After nearly seventeen years, she had learned her true name, which was Evangeline Wilkes.

She had also learned of her true parents, Carl Wilkes and Rita Green, and that the woman whom she had believed to be her mother, Annie, was really her half-sister. Violence, death, murder, these were the things that Annie had fled from…along with Evangeline, who had been no more than a baby when a teenaged Annie had hidden her in a cardboard box and made her way to the river, intending to drown them both and escape “this dirty world”, as she often called it.

But something happened, something that had saved them both, and that was that Evangeline had smiled at Annie. She had never done so before, always crying when the troubled girl had held her, but this time, this time… Something had changed in Annie at that moment, something had pulled her back from the edge, and for the first time in a long time, Annie felt that things might get better.

Many years had passed with Annie and her sister, now renamed Joy and passed off as Annie’s own daughter, living a life on the run, although Joy had never known it – Annie, now a nurse, had kept up a pretense of the necessity of nurses moving around often. And so they did, moving from place to place, staying in areas for only months or even weeks before leaving, many times in a hurry, which Joy now knew was because of her adopted mother’s habit of stealing pills from the hospitals in which she worked, in order to control her unstable mind.

And it had been for this very reason that Joy had not, at first, believed Annie’s frantic paranoia of a man she had claimed to have killed, a dangerous man, coming back to life. After all, tales of the supernatural, even from locals who believed every word of it, were a thing of fiction, right? Maybe in some towns.

But not in Castle Rock.

Joy squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to block out the horrid memories, memories of the townspeople falling under a sinister trance, moving like zombies towards an ancient statue, memories of people who were no longer people, but vessels of wicked souls returned from centuries ago.

She had almost become one of them…

But her mother, who was not her mother, had kept that from happening. And now…

“Hey.” A voice broke Joy out of her dark thoughts. It was Chance, approaching the passenger window from the small convenience store they had stopped at. Joy had opted to stay in the car.

“Oh…hey.” Joy wrung her hands and looked down, breathing out slowly.

Chance opened the driver’s door and, setting the drinks she had bought in the cup holders, made herself comfortable in the seat. She glanced at Joy, a concerned look on her face. “You good?”

“Fine,” said Joy quietly, chewing her bottom lip.

Chance looked at her for a moment, then spoke. “You were thinking about it again,” she said softly. She gently put her hand over Joy’s; she could feel it trembling slightly.

“Joy.”

Joy looked up at Chance slowly. The girl who held her affections was good at seeing the truth, even without words. They hadn’t talked about anything that had happened in that town since they had left almost two weeks ago. She had pushed it down as long as she could, but now Joy could feel the words she longed to say rising inside her, like the late August heat that surrounded them.

Swallowing hard, Joy closed her eyes again. “What if I was wrong?”

“Wrong?”

“What if I – I shouldn’t have left her? What will happen to her without me? She saved me, I could have become one of those –” Her voice cracked, and she paused to take a deep breath. “She saved me,” Joy repeated slowly. “And I left her.”

Joy remembered this part vividly, perhaps most of all. Unlike the other memories that came unwittingly, surfacing every now and then like skeletal trees in a valley of fog, this one stayed at the front of her mind, burning intensely as if it had been branded behind her eyelids. Annie’s face, so eagerly hopeful at the thought of what she was sure was true, that Joy wanted to leave this wretched town with her and never come back. Well, part of it was true. Joy was desperate to leave.

Just not with Annie.

How her adopted mother’s face had slowly but surely crumpled, how her eyes, still so wide and emotional, were now filled with shock and fear instead of hope. Joy knew this would happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Mom,” she had said. “Mom, I think…I think I need to leave. Without…you. I love you, mom. I really do. But…I can’t…be with you anymore.”

           Annie had tried her best to keep her emotions from taking over. “Oh, Joy, little love, you don’t mean that! You’re just…” she hurriedly searched for what to say. “You’re overwhelmed. And why wouldn’t you be! Y-you’ve been through s-so much recently that – that you’re not thinking clearly! Those horrible people – those, those, dirty birds almost killed you!”

           “Mom…” Joy wanted to say more, but Annie cut her off.

“I’ll tell you what, little love, you need a good night’s sleep. We can go back to the lodge and rest, and then we’ll discuss it in the morning, okay? Okay?”

           But Annie knew she wasn’t letting Joy go anywhere alone. And Joy knew it too. Which is why what she had to do next broke her heart.

           She left a letter for her mother, expressing as best she could her feelings. That she needed to find her own way, that she still loved her, and hoped they could reconnect one day in the future. Taking with her a bag of clothes, her phone, the keys to her mother’s car, and what little money she had, Joy had left the lodge while Annie had slept, meeting Chance outside and helped her push the vehicle far enough away that Annie wouldn’t hear it start. They were lucky; the tank was almost full.

           And so they had driven, mostly in silence, stopping every so often to eat or find a hotel to stay at. Chance had, in the confusion of the town trying to regain its sanity, taken as much cash as she could from the register of the local bar, so they had plenty to keep them going for a while.

           Chance looked at Joy with empathy in her eyes. “I get it. I know what you’re going through. It sucks to be apart from your parents, even if they aren’t good for you. But it gets better. Hey, at least you have a phone now.”

           Joy gave a small chuckle.

           “When I left my folks, I was terrified,” Chance continued, rubbing Joy’s hand gently. “I had no idea if I would last. But you know what got me through it?”

           “What?”

           “What got me through was knowing that there was nothing left for me in the past, so that meant that everything I had to gain was in the future. That I had to keep moving forward.” Chance raised Joy’s hand and pressed it gently to her lips.

           Slowly, slowly, Joy’s anxious heartbeat decelerated, and she looked deep into Chance’s eyes, eyes that conveyed love and compassion. She had never felt this way about anyone before, had never felt this strong sense of safety and belonging, safer than she had ever been with her mother. Her chest felt lighter than it had in days.

           Joy smiled at Chance, and Chance smiled back. As if by second nature, they both leaned carefully towards each other, their lips meeting tenderly for more than a moment.

           A light patter had begun on the roof of the car; the rain had started. It was the soft, sweet rain of summer, cleansing the world around them and bringing new hope to their lives.

 ***

             Chance and Joy pulled into the parking lot of the hotel just as the rain had started to pick up. Dodging the drops, they ran in to the main lobby with their bags over their heads. Inside, they brushed their damp hair back, and chuckled as they looked at each other. Once their humor had subsided, they surveyed the interior.

As one of the common chain hotels, the lobby was hardly distinguishable from the others they had stayed in. The tiled floor was a pale cream color, there were fake plants in the corners, and the small sitting area had a flat screen TV showing a news channel. Right now, the anchor was pointing to a weather map and explaining that the rain would last until the end of the week.

           Chance started towards the front desk, where a middle-aged blonde woman was occupied with a magazine. Chance cleared her throat. The woman glanced up.

           “Yeah?” she said.

           “We’d, uh, like a room?” said Chance. “Please,” she added.

           The woman – Beverly, said her name tag – moved to look at her computer. “Name?” she asked absently, as she typed.

           “Andy,” said Chance in an even voice. She and Joy had agreed that it was best to use fake names for now, at least until they made it to Canada. No telling if they were being searched for.

           “Last name?” said Beverly. She seemed to be keeping herself from rolling her eyes.

           “Evans,” Chance replied.

           With a few more clicks on the keyboard, Beverly turned back to Chance. “Only rooms we got left have one bed. The couches are pull outs thought, if you want,” she said glancing at Joy.

           Joy paused, exchanging a look with Chance. Chance held her gaze for a few seconds before turning back to Beverly. “That’s fine. We’ll take it.”

           “How many nights?”

           “Um, four. Tonight to Sunday morning.”      

The blonde woman typed on her computer, then got up and went into a room behind the desk. She was gone for a minute before returning with two key cards in her hand.

           “Room number is 79. Third floor.” She placed the cards on the counter and then looked expectantly at Chance, who pulled a thick envelope out of her backpack.

           “How much?”

           “One-eighty, even.”

           Chance rummaged through the envelope and handed Beverly several bills. The clerk put the cash in the register and then gestured towards the elevators. “You’re all set.” She became engrossed in her magazine once more.

           Once the two girls were in the elevator, they sighed in relief. Chance looked at Joy. Joy looked at Chance. And all of a sudden they were laughing, leaning back against the mirrored walls. They were just two girls in this moment, two girls closer than friends who were happy and carefree and in love. Taking each other’s hands, they stepped off the elevator and made their way to the room.

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 1.1

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day One – A Tale of a Fateful Trip – Part 1 (Prologue)

Author: Gumnut

8 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3490

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph

This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic and it is a big one ::headdesk:: I hope you enjoy it. I know I have thoroughly enjoyed researching a gorgeous corner of this planet.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

And as always, thank you all for creating such a fantastic fandom. Thundernerds rock! I hope you all have a wonderful festive season. Thank you all so much for everything.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 Day One: A Tale of a Fateful Trip

Virgil was miserable.

Pain was minimal as long as he didn’t move too much. He didn’t really even need any of the painkillers that he was given to take with him at the hospital. It was just that he knew his brothers were tired, and despite the attractions of the beautiful city of Auckland, all they really wanted to do was go home.

His brothers could quite easily do just that. The ‘birds were at the local GDF base, it would be a matter of minutes and they would be home. But Virgil wasn’t allowed off the ground, they wouldn’t risk him and they wouldn’t leave him behind, no matter how many times he told them to do just that.

The glare Scott raked him with the last time he suggested it had been scathing.

Didn’t make him feel any better.

Grandma, of course, sensed his sadness and was known to slip up behind the couch he was chained to and wrap her arms around him. She kissed his hair and mumbled reassuring words in his ear.

He was ever so grateful, but he was still miserable.

Balled up cartridge paper lay about his feet. His pencil just wouldn’t create anything of value. Creating gave him a boost, and he desperately wanted to feel something positive, so he persisted, but the pile of balled up paper at his feet just got bigger and in the end he threw the pad and pencil aside, wincing when the pencil hit the table and likely destroyed the lead inside.

With a groan he levered his feet onto the couch and curled up into a flinching ball of misery.

His brain conveniently listed off all the positives about his life, everything he should be thankful for and all the reasons he shouldn’t be feeling sorry for himself. That just made him angry and annoyed that he was so pathetic.

God, he hated this.

He wasn’t really that ill. Just had some small difficulty moving and couldn’t fly to go home.

His family was suffering and it was all his damn fault.

“Hey, Virg?” The voice was soft, but it was definitely Scott testing to see if he was awake.

“What?” So he was grumpy, big deal.

“You’re awake.”

Well, yeah. He didn’t answer that.

Scott edged into his line of sight. Maybe his brother sensed his foul mood.

Of course, that thought just made him feel worse. The word ‘burden’ came to mind.

He closed his eyes, took a second, and then forced himself once again upright. Familiar hands reached into help, gently holding his shoulders until he was steady. “I’m fine.”

Scott shifted the detritus over on the coffee table and sat down in front of Virgil, his long frame folding neatly and a lot smoother than Virgil had any hope of achieving at the moment. “How would you like to go home?”

Virgil looked up at him. “How? I can’t fly.”

“Flight is only one way to get to Tracy Island.” He smiled. “We have a very versatile aquanaut on our team.”

Virgil stared at him. “Thunderbird Four? It’s just as pressurised as Two. Carries the same risks.”

The smile softened. “No, Virgil, Gordon can pilot more than a submarine. He’s bought us a boat.”

“A boat?”

“Actually, technically it is a yacht and a luxury one at that.” Gordon’s grin was broad and eager as he entered the room. “All aboard for Tracy Island, bro. She’s got all the perks and enough under the hood to get us there in time for Christmas.”

Virgil stared at him. Then stared at Scott. “Really?”

Scott’s smile was a sight. “I really don’t know why we didn’t think of it earlier.”

“Because all you pilot types live in the clouds.” Gordon strode up to his eldest brother and dug him one in the ribs before turning to Virgil. “So, what do you say, Virg? Up for a little cruise? Should take us about three days. Kayo and Grandma have gone Christmas shopping and will likely haul half of New Zealand’s food supply back in Two. Scott’s already stashed One and Tracy Two can stay until we need to pick her up.” Gordon had obviously worked out all the details. His brother was literally bouncing where he stood. But then it wasn’t often the aquanaut got to ferry his family around.

Virgil stared at his brothers. “Us three?”

Scott’s smile became a grin. “No, us five. All of us.”

“Five bachelors cruising on the open sea.” Gordon waved his hand across the room as if peering into a far horizon.

Virgil arched an eyebrow at him. All of them. All five brothers. Together. On a boat. For three days. His gaze turned to Scott. “You sure you want to do this?”

There was something in his brother’s blue eyes. “I’m sure.”

Virgil straightened where he sat. Surprisingly, he felt lighter, more positive. Could be the energy radiating off Gordon. His brother was always a bucket of sunshine in the rain. “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Yes.” Gordon actually fist pumped the air. Virgil couldn’t help but grin. “Now, big bro, pack your bags, we are going now.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Now?” That explained why he had been alone all morning.

But Scott had already started moving, Virgil’s meagre pile of supplies being shoved into the overnight bag that had sufficed for his hospital stay. “Well, we want to be home for Christmas, so we have to get going.”

Virgil moved to stand up.

Gordon stepped in front of him. “Hey, no, you stay there. This is a full service operation, Virg. We’ve got this.”

Another arched eyebrow was an answer to that, but Gordon was as good as his word and before Virgil could think twice, he was in a car, luggage in the trunk and on his way to the docks.

-o-o-o-

Scott was tired. It had been a long...well, everything. International Rescue never stopped, Tracy Industries never stopped and apparently, his brothers never stopped.

Virgil had scared him.

Okay, so nowadays appendicitis was a mild inconvenience, but in the past it was a killer and a painful and sudden one at that. Perhaps it was because it was something innocuous, something not related to a rescue and so out of the blue that it knocked Scott around so badly. But what worried him more was that his brother had ignored the warning signs of serious illness in favour of International Rescue. It wasn’t the first time and he wasn’t the only one of the brothers to do such a thing. Hell, Scott himself had done it. Lives had been saved despite injury and illness many times. But perhaps this was a louder warning. Perhaps they should be taking better care of themselves.

Grandma’s scathing words had driven it home. The Tracys were taking this Christmas off. They were due the time, they were tired, Virgil was ill. Any of those three on their own were cause for concern. All three together forced their matriarch to lay down the law.

Scott knew his place.

And she was right.

But their dilemma was a frustrating one. None of his brothers, particularly John, could fully relax away from home. There were celebrity issues to begin with, and this forced idleness rankled badly.

So, when Gordon suggested they go home via sea, Scott jumped on the idea wondering why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Three days on the ocean. They would still be idle, but they would be away from restrictions, out beneath the blue sky and they could be home for Christmas.

And how long had it been since all five of them had been together like that? Had it happened since they were children on one of Dad’s road trips?

Scott swallowed as the car with himself, Virgil and Gordon made its way down to the docks. The sight of the ocean lifted his spirits more than he would ever admit to his aquanaut brother.

The vehicle slipped through a security checkpoint and into a private area.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Gordon was bouncing again, this time in his seat. The aquanaut was going to have the time of his life over this little trip. Scott couldn’t help but smile at his happiness.

And yes, the boat was a gorgeous craft, even to a flyboy like himself. She had clean lines and looked fast sitting still. White with a streak of yellow down her length...no doubt, very recently applied along with the name on her bow, A Little Lightning.

She was large, but not huge. Just big enough for five tired brothers to live in comfort and fly fast over the waves.

Gordon was spouting off her specs to a politely interested Virgil. Scott tilted his head to one side...no, that spark in his engineer brother’s eyes spoke of genuine curiosity. Scott smirked just a little. Might need to watch Virg for the first couple of days to keep him out of the engine. He could pull it apart and put it back together once they were home and he was better.

Scott lent his brother a hand to get out of the car. He was still walking slowly, careful of his incisions, but he was a touch straighter than a couple days ago and he was off medication - though that was no surprise. Getting him to take any medication at any time was a challenge.

“She’s beautiful, Gordon. How did you find her so fast?”

Their brother grinned. “I have friends, Virg. You know, those people you can share a drink with from time to time.”

Virgil’s flat eyed glare was more fond than exasperated. “How much money did you throw at these friends?”

A shrug was all the answer he gave. “It’s worth it.”

“Give me a number and I’ll throw it your way.” Virgil was sincerity itself.

“Forget it, bro. Not required.” The hand waved in Virgil’s direction was entirely dismissive. “Just have a look, Virg. This girl has speed!” And the discussion devolved into specs again as the two of them walked towards the pier.

Hmm, apparently, Scott was cabin boy today.

To be honest, he didn’t care.

Loading himself with luggage, he followed their slow progress onto the dock.

-o-o-o-

John wasn’t much of a sailor, but when Gordon suggested the trip, he jumped on it.

Out in the middle of the ocean he could see the stars unhindered, it would be quiet except for the wind, water and their boat and, to be honest, it would be good to just be with his brothers uninterrupted.

And besides, on Earth, the ocean was the closest he could get to the weightless freedom of space.

So the astronaut was happy to help prep the boat. Being a resident of Tracy Island required at least some marine knowledge for safety’s sake and it felt good to exercise it for a change.

Alan was a little less enthusiastic until John mentioned a new video game recently released in beta. He had meant to mention it to his littlest brother some weeks ago, but life got in the way. Years ago, the two of them used to tackle each other in various games and they hadn’t done so in ages. John had contributed to this game at the request of a couple of associates from college. It was a high level space simulator matched with an adventure storyline. It should have a good enough mix of reality and fantasy to keep the hi-octane teenager amused in those moments of too much quiet.

Gordon had already allocated some time to some extra-curricular activities around the Kermadec Island group south of Tracy Island, so there would be plenty of the softer sciences to go around somewhere in their second day of the voyage.

John smiled at Gordon’s reaction to the term ‘softer sciences’. He hadn’t known his younger brother actually knew the definition of the word he used. Then again usage didn’t always prove understanding. A few more words in Swedish at a later date should clarify that situation.

As he placed the last of their food supplies into refrigeration, he heard the first distant rumble of a familiar voice, followed by the excited chatter of his aquanaut brother.

His smile widened and he made his way out onto the deck. Virgil had an arm tight against his belly, but his expression was excited as Gordon rabbited on about the engine specifications of his new boat.

Well, John, Alan and Scott had contributed to the cost of the boat, but it really was Gordon’s regardless. None of them really cared about it other than it getting them and their brothers home safely. Gordon was the one who loved a good ocean-going vessel and this was definitely a brilliant contender.

John rolled his eyes at Virgil as he offered him a hand getting onboard and his brother grinned at him. A few solid steps and the engineer got his feet securely on the boat. His brown eyes caught John’s and he suddenly found himself caught in one of his bear hugs. Perhaps not as rigorous as usual, but just as warm.

John couldn’t help, but hug back.

“Hey, where’s mine? This was my idea, after all.”

Virgil laughed and wrapped his arms around Gordon. “Thanks, fishy.” It was brief, but all three men were grinning as the two brothers separated.

“Well, that’s sweet and all, but some of us have to work for a living.” John smirked as Scott arrived at the water’s edge draped in luggage. A quick leap onto the dock and he helped him shed bags and the odd suitcase and with Gordon’s help, lug them onto the yacht.

Virgil was hugging Alan, who had emerged from the cabin.

John nudged Scott. Under his breath, “He okay?”

“Seems happy enough about the boat.” A sigh. “Looked miserable enough to sink it before I told him.”

“Let’s hope it cheers him up.”

“Let’s hope it cheers us all up. It’s Christmas, for crying out loud.” Scott grabbed the bag with Virgil’s art equipment, which had been added to without the artist’s knowledge and clambered onto the boat and headed in the direction of the cabin assigned to Virgil.

Gordon had dragged Virgil up to what he called ‘The Bridge’, what Scott called ‘The Cockpit’ and what was blatantly and obviously the control centre of the yacht - it would be flyboys versus fish for the entire voyage, no doubt. Said fish could be heard still babbling excitedly to his engineer brother.

John made a note to rescue the invalid if necessary.

Between John and Scott, they unloaded the last pieces of luggage and sent the driver on his way with a generous tip. John ran the supplies list through his head. Gordon had managed all the permits and regulations an international voyage by sea required and there were quite a few. There was less red tape in space.

Of course, when your daughter is an AI, the red tape moves just that little faster. And yes, he did smile to himself. He couldn’t help it.

-o-o-o-

A Little Lightning left dock just after the tide turned midafternoon. It would have been better to leave early in the morning, but time was what it was and they set out when they could. It had been decided that between the autopilot and four out of five brothers and no, Virgil, you are not piloting this ship, so forget it, they could make up the time overnight.

“It’s a boat, Scott.”

“Semantics, Gordon.”

“Reality, Scott.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Are we going to hear this discussion the entire way?” He had stashed himself in a comfortable seat at the back of the ‘bridge’. He had a great view of Waitemata Harbour as they cruised slowly past the CBD of Auckland itself. The weather was fantastic and the sea calm as glass. The forecast said the same for the next three days and the only stormy hints were in his brothers’ eyes.

“Regardless of the type of craft, Virgil, you aren’t able to drive a car at the moment, much less pilot a boat.” Emphasis was put on the word ‘boat’ as his eldest brother glared like a petulant child at his aquanaut brother.

“Fine. I’ll be chauffeured.”

Gordon snorted as he directed the yacht between past an incoming liner. “Now you know how it feels.”

“Know what feels?”

“Not being allowed to drive.”

Virgil glared at his brother, but couldn’t think of an adequate retort.

Alan snickered.

“Shut up, Alan.” Okay, so perhaps Gordon had a point. “She’s my ‘bird, Gordon.”

“It’s okay, Virg. We understand, don’t we, guys.” Gordon grinned back at him. John smiled. Alan rolled his eyes.

Scott shrugged. “I don’t have a problem. Virgil doesn’t hesitate to let me fly Thunderbird Two.”

“You’re hardly ever on Two.”

“So? Virgil doesn’t have a problem with me flying Two, do you Virg?”

Four pairs of eyes stared at him in challenge, but not all from the same perspective.

“Er...”

“You think Scott is a better pilot that the rest of us?” Alan was always the direct one.

Virgil opened his mouth, but his eldest brother beat him to it. “I am a better pilot than all of you.”

“What?!” It was an offended scoff from the two youngest.

“Though I will admit that you each have your specialities with your ‘birds. Virgil is much better with Two than I am, for example.”

“And you are totally pathetic in Four, let me tell you.” Gordon was staring out across the bow, but there was still a smirk on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“Who buried my girl in sea sludge recently?”

“That was unavoidable.”

Gordon spun on the spot. “What?! You’re still claiming you had no choice? I gave you recommendations on comms, you ignored them and look what happened, oh mighty pilot. You may be the greatest in the air, but you suck underwater, Scott, face it.”

“And I can run rings around you in Three, trust me on that.” Alan folded his arms and stuck his nose in the air.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted and cut off the discussion. “What the hell? You’re all damn good and fine pilots, no matter the craft. So, I’m a control freak with my girl. You’re all the same. When was the last time I piloted any of your craft? I’m fully trained and fully capable as any of you are, but she is my ‘bird and while I’m alive and kicking, I will fly her. That is no reflection on your capability, only on mine. And for god’s sake, get over it.”

Okay, so he got a little angry. It wasn’t his best attempt at diffusing an argument, ever, but the dumb ass looks directed at him were at least silent ones.

“Now stop fighting and let us enjoy this trip.” He blinked. “And Gordon, you might want to avoid that oncoming container ship.”

The aquanaut jumped and the yacht swerved as he shifted her quickly to the left to give way to the massive cargo carrier bearing down on them. The sharp dirge of the ship’s horn emphasised her captain’s ire at their deviation into his vessel’s path.

“Sorry!”

It was a vain apologetic gesture of his little brother’s part. It did put an effective end to their argument nonetheless.

There were many islands at the mouth of Auckland’s main harbour and it was extremely scenic, particularly the volcanoes.

Virgil was intimately familiar with volcanic structures and had visited several as part of IR, he understood their power and had witnessed it first hand, but the artist in him never failed to be caught by their symmetry and their mystery. They still caught his imagination and stunned him.

As they accelerated around the islands and out into the bay proper, the sea opened out into a beautifully flat expanse of watery blue. They were still surrounded on all sides by distant patches of green. Another little volcanic island reared up and they cruised past. A couple of dolphins danced along in the wake at their bow. John helped Virgil climb up the stairs to the railing at the front of the boat. He twinged several times, but ignored it despite the frown of Scott following up behind him.

It was worth it to stand up the front, the wind in his hair, a brother either side of him. The last of the islands passed by and the ocean opened up in front of them.

Dolphins continued to keep them company.

Both Scott and John kept a grip on an arm each, wary of him stressing himself in any way. Virgil turned his face into the wind and closed his eyes, letting the sensations fill his mind.

“Better?” It was a whisper from Scott, barely heard above the rush of air over his ears.

Virgil smiled.

“Better.”

-o-o-o-

End Day One, Part One.

Day One, Part Two

[aahsokaatano]

ITALY????

Y’all I spent one whole week in Italy in 2017 and it was one of the most bizarre fucking weeks of my life

let’s break it down from the beginning

[under a read more for length]

So, fall of 2017 I was studying abroad in London. One of the classes I was taking was specifically for study abroad students, designed to get us engaging in the culture of London or whatever i dont really remember the class itself but my god do i remember the people i met in it

two in particular were these girls, also American. We shall call them Molly and Ally. They had quickly made friends with each other, and after one of the class trips into London, i was friendly with them as well. The “reading week” or fall break was coming up, and they mentioned that they were going to Italy and asked if I wanted to go. I had booked a short tour to Dover, but thought “oh my god Italy???? Fuck yes!” and so I bought my plane tickets then asked them where they had booked hotel rooms so that I could add myself to their itinerary

“Oh,” Molly said, “we haven’t, don’t worry about it”

Me, a seasoned traveler “?????? uh”

I bugged them about this for at LEAST a week and finally, about THREE DAYS from when we were supposed to leave, I just went ahead and booked an assortment of hostels and airbnbs for us in all the cities they wanted to go to and told them to pay me back later

they actually admitted afterwards that that had been a smart move on my part which like????? no SHIT its a smart move to have a plan where you’re gonna sleep every night while in a foreign country. god.

So, lets go through this day by day

Day 1 - London to Milan

we flew from London to Milan in the evening, getting there pretty late at night. and it was only once we were actually IN Italy that I learned that 1) none of us spoke Italian and 2) despite having grown up in two areas with large Hispanic populations, neither Molly or Ally spoke a lick of Spanish, which is close enough to Italian that you can kind of limp through a conversation of one if you know the other.

so, somehow, I ended up being our Italian translator for the week, armed with nothing but a translator website, a handful of Italian music terms, and the ability to roll my r’s fairly well for a white person. Literally, i figured out where the bus stop was outside of the airport because I saw the word “fermata” painted on the pavement and I knew that meant “long pause” in sheet music terms so I hazarded a guess it meant stop or similar in regular Italian

(sidenote I almost got in a fight with some random Italian dude on the bus because Molly was going on about how excited she was to try the pizza and I told her it wasn’t going to be the same because “the pizza you’re used to is an American invention” and he turned around and started going on about the tradition of pizza in Italy and I was like I just mean that American pizza is different from real Italian pizza i did not mean to offend i’m sorry!!!!!! anyways)

the bus dropped us in a square in the middle of Milan and we got out and i’m lookin at my airbnb app trying to figure out where we need to go and i said “okay we need to get a cab” and Molly and Ally are arguing about something and this RANDOM ASS DUDE walks up to us and is like “you need taxi?” and i said yes to he leads us back to his REGULAR ASS CAR, NOT A TAXI and tells us to get in, and for some unknown fucking reason I do and Molly and Ally follow me and shut up real fast because this is sketchy as fuck but the guy did take us to the airbnb without murdering us so thats a win i guess

The airbnb by the way was more like a mini hostel - it was this apartment where pretty much every room except the bathroom had been converted into a bedroom and so probably not entirely legal but whatever. whatever. 

Day 2 - Milan to Venice

i woke up early the next morning and went to take a shower at the bathroom at the end of the hall and found out that the lights didn’t work. Whatever, I’m mostly blind without my glasses anyways so i just showered in the dark, no biggie

we had an early bus to catch from Milan to Venice, so we headed out to the bus station. I’ll be honest, I do not remember how we got there. I think we walked, because I ended up with a coffee at some point so I probably got it from some cafe on the way? But idk. I was so tired.

We get on the bus, I found two empty seats far away from Molly and Ally, and immediately stretched out and fell asleep.

Ally woke me a little later and said “c’mon, we’re here!”

I was confused as all hell because it had not been nearly long enough for us to get all the way to Venice, but I got off the bus and was greeted by Molly stretching her arms out and proclaiming “Welcome to Venice!” underneath a sign that said we were at the Verona bus station.

They did not believe me when I said Verona and Venice were two different places. “Venice has canals, Verona is where Romeo & Juliet is set. There are no canals in R&J, they’re two different places!” I literally had to pull out my phone, go to google maps, and zoom out until they could see that Venice was still several hours away before they believed me.

The bus driver almost didn’t let us back on but I was able to show him on the tickets that our end destination was, in fact, Venice.

Venice itself was pretty neat. We got to go on a gondola ride and I ate an entire pizza by myself at dinner lmao.

Day 3 - Venice to Florence

we took a train from Venice to Florence the next morning, and that’s when I discovered that Italian train stations have lovely little cafes with AMAZING coffee and really good pastries. The other two didn’t drink coffee but like, their loss. it was fantastic. 

Florence was great, we found a little shop that sold really yummy gelato for only 1 Euro a scoop - Geletaria La Carraia. If you ever end up in Florence, definitely check it out!

We wandered around for a while, took a lot of pictures. There was some famous church that was undergoing some renovations, but as we walked up to it Molly gasped and said “I’ve climbed that in Assassin’s Creed!” which was pretty funny. 

We went to a museum that had made a bunch of models of some of Leonardo DaVinci’s inventions. We went to an art museum and stumbled across Michaelangelo’s David on accident, so that was the big “wtf” moment of the day. Also that night Molly decided to buy a bottle of wine to take home to a friend of her’s back in America, but realized after buying it that her backpack wasn’t big enough to cart it around for the rest of the week so I ended up carrying an entire fucking bottle of wine for the rest of the trip because I was the only one smart enough to bring a proper backpacking backpack and not just my school bag.

Also the hostel we were in had actual skeleton keys for their rooms and actual goddamn keyholes that one could clearly see through so i left the key in the lock all night AND hung my sweatshirt from the door handle so that no one could peek in at us

Day 4 - Florence to Pisa

once again, I woke up early, went into the bathroom attached to our room (the hostel had had a cancellation and so we ended up in a private room instead of a dorm style) and discovered that the lights didn’t work so I had a second shower in the dark

we took another train from Florence to Pisa, and there we ran into our only bit of bad weather

What’s the big draw in Pisa? The Leaning Tower, right?

What was the only day it rained, non-fucking-stop, the entire time we were in Italy? THE DAY WE WERE IN PISA

I got so soaked that I actually bought a new sweatshirt because the one I was wearing was DRIPPING

anyways, after we had taken several dumb touristy pictures and grabbed an early dinner at a nearby restaurant, we decided to head over to the room I had booked. The cheapest place I could find was a tiny cabin at a campground nearby. According to the map on my phone, it was a short walk away.

A solid hour later, we finally trudged up to the main office of the campground, shivering and soaked, and got the keys to our cabin. We set our stuff down, and Ally and Molly decided to go back out to the grocery store we had passed coming in. I waved them off and went to take a shower in the bathroom with fully functioning lights! hooray!

Day 5 - Pisa to Rome

another morning, another train station with excellent coffee. We got into Rome and, at this point, we were all so tired from travelling that I was finally able to take charge. up until this point, Molly had been railroading us, even sort of bullying Ally in the process, but now she was exhausted and I, through a combination of practice in functioning while dead on my feet, lots of travel experience, and Mom Friend Instincts, took the reins. We got to Rome and I said “we’re going to the church with the big hole in the roof (its a thing, look it up) and then we’re going to eat.... at this place around the corner and then we’re going to to go our hostel and check in”

they didn’t argue, and that’s a true testament to how fucking tired the two of them were, especially Molly, because she would argue about anything and everything given half a chance. We also went to the military museum that day, mostly because it was free and also air conditioned

(also while looking through my pictures of this trip i just discovered that i still have the picture i took of the Rome hostel FAQ page that had by the front desk, which i now remember i did because it had the wifi password on it and we weren’t in our room for 30 seconds before one of the other two asked what the wifi password was so, once again, i show that i am a very good traveler/travelling buddy)

Day 6 - Rome

so we had the next full day in Rome, and we got up early to get in line for the Vatican. I wanted to be there by 7am, Molly was like “it doesn’t even open until 9!” and we compromised at 8 and it was STILL an enormous line so i was like “see? this is why i wanted to get here early”

Oh, but before we went to the Vatican, i took a shower. IN. THE. DARK. BECAUSE ALL OF ITALY EXCEPT FOR PISA DECIDED THAT I DIDN’T DESERVE TO HAVE A SHOWER WHERE I DIDN’T HAVE TO FUMBLE AROUND BLINDLY LIKE AN ASSHOLE

ALSO on the way to the Vatican, I asked if the two of them had their passports. Ally said yes. Molly said yes, why?

And I had to then explain to Molly, a 20 year old RELIGIOUS STUDIES MAJOR, who was RAISED CATHOLIC and who had FAMILY IN THE CLERGY, that the Vatican, THE CENTER OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH, is it’s own country. 

she, again, did not believe me until i pulled it up on google for her

turned out that we didn’t need our passports stamped to enter the Vatican but still! still!!!!!

so it turned out that whatever day we were there on, the Sistine Chapel isn’t open that day, so we just walked through the cathedral and then headed out to the Colosseum and the ruins of the Senate behind it, both of which were very cool

Day 7 - Rome to Milan to London

we got up even EARLIER on our last day, I took another shower in the dark, and we rushed over to the Vatican, speedwalked through most of the museum, and finally got into the Sistine Chapel, which was absolutely breathtaking. Then we hauled ass back to the train station to catch our train back to Milan.

At this point in the trip, I was so fucking done with the two of them, but especially Molly. Ally was sweet and naive, but she was also willing to listen to new information. Molly was just a stubborn ass with a mean streak a mile wide and I was COMPLETELY done associating with her.

Luckily, since I had booked my flights separately, while we had flown into Milan on the same plane, I had a completely different flight back to London - to a different airport, even. They were going back to London City, but I was heading to London Gatwick. Both planes were set to depart around the same time, from two gates that were next to each other though, so i couldn’t really escape them until - uh oh! My flight was delayed. 

Molly and Ally were fretting about it but i was like “it’s fine. it’s fine. I’ve been flying since i was literally 3 months old and I s o m e h o w know more Italian AND Spanish than the two of you combined, even though I would never say that I speak EITHER of those languages. Just go.”

The flight ended up being delayed like 5 hours due to mechanical issues. They finally just got another plane for us, and we finally took off from Milan. When we went over Paris, the captain, obviously feeling bad about the delay, made sure to tilt the plane in both directions so that everyone could see the Eiffel Tower lit up, it was really neat.

We finally got back to London at literally like 230 in the morning. The busses and some of the trains weren’t even running at that point - certainly not all the way out to the fancy little liberal arts college I was going to. I went up to some security guard at the airport and said “just tell me how close I can get to the University of Roehampton on the trains” and he told me to take the train to Black Friars so I got out there and there was a bus, but it was like 40 minutes out. It’s now pass 3am, I am exhausted after a long, weird week in Italy, I texted my dad and he said “just get an Uber i’ll pay for it”

The Uber driver was very nice and as soon as I got in he said “you look really cold! do you want the heat on?” i could have fucking kissed him. he was super nice. actually made sure that I was still texting my dad (i had mentioned it when I got in because I almost dropped my bag while trying to text and maneuver at the same time) every few minutes. offered to let me take and send a picture of him to my dad. otherwise didn’t really speak and just let the music play. I tipped him literally whatever was in my pocket at that time, i don’t remember how much it was, but it was at least 20% and probably more. Really great guy. 

Random London Uber driver from 2017, you remain the best Uber driver and I love you

i finally crawled into my shitty little dorm bed at about 4am, exhausted and utterly bewildered by the past week

honestly??? I’m still bewildered by my week in Italy.

wtf even happened in all that mess.

[constellationsadvocate]

The Constellations Advocate

Book One

Prologue  

“Time is always a fickle thing when you’re running against it and it’s already beating you to the punchline. It’s really not something to laugh at, but the idle irony of the stars aligning and time freezing- coming to an absolute standstill- just for the mere amusement of one's boredom.”

“Boredom?” An amused, deep and half-laughed question asked. “I don’t believe it was so. Maybe, out of coincidence, it was out of revenge?”

“Well, then it took them awhile. To plan revenge just so you can fix your own fate because one may or may not have been, shall I say, screwed over.”

“Not screwed over, friend.”

“No? Then, dear, what would you call it?”

“Double crossed.” They gruffly, briskly called back. They laughed lightly, a charming smile on their lips. “But, do continue, doll. The story is just beginning to get good.”

“Now that you’ve shut your big mouth, I will gladly do so.” The first voice coolly replied. “Like I said, Time came to an absolute standstill for the sake of one’s boredom. It wasn’t always boredom, no, but it was anger. Anguish. Pain, grief, heartbreak, guilt, longing. Our story didn’t start at the beginning, but at the start of the end.”

“This isn’t some children’s story is it? You know, the one with the colorful pop-up pages?”

“Just because your one molecule brain can’t break down big words, doesn’t mean you can’t follow along.” A third voice chimed, causing the other two to look back at the mysterious being.

“Why I oughta-!”

The first, smacking the back of the second’s head, reeled their hand back again only to stop and grab their cup of whiskey. “Put a sock in it before I knock your teeth out. We have a story to tell and I will gladly do so by myself if it’s by the means of removing your teeth and cutting out your tongue.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyways, it all began when it ended.”

“Doesn’t it always?” The third laughed softly, only to go quiet as a killing glare was sent their way.

“It was a destructive timeline. There wasn’t an end to finish and a start to begin. Therefore, something more constructive, crucial, was born.”

“Didn’t it fail?”

“Honestly, the first three thousand times it did.” The first signed disdainly. Then smiled mischievously. “But, what’s the harm in one more chance?

The other’s glaced to one another, then smiled cruelly. In harmony, “Născuți din focul Fenixului, constelațiile vor avea protectorul lor.”

Adeodatus, Patavium

“Aye, cad e mar a bheifea ag suil le fear dall a asal a fhail san aimsir seo?!” An aging, balding, middle aged man with refined attributes of a square jaw, straight nose, and oblique pale once blue eyes yelled out to a young man. The man, a simple farm hand stumbled through the rain and mud behind the old man, Maddox, looking frantically for the lost mule. Maddox, the blind man, stopped in his tracks causing the farm hand to slide to a stop. “Erivan!”

“For the last time, sir. People will think you’re a mad man yelling out in your old language!” Erivan sternly warned. He calmly walked to stand beside Maddox, placing a firm hand on the mans shoulder. “The mule can’t be far at all. You know how he gets during thunderstorms.”

“I know this. But that stubborn mule is getting on my last nerve.” Maddox replied briskly, tired of the same old routine. “And yes, I know what you’ll say. ‘He’ll find his way back home, Maddox.’”

“Aye,” Erivan smiled warmly, slicking back ebony wet hair from his forehead. “Now, can we please go inside before we both get sick again?”

Maddox nodded, turning back the way he came from. Erivan smiled assertively and followed behind. Only a few steps in, when in a short distance behind them, a mule brayed and stomped  it’s hooves in the thick mud. The pair turned sharply, Erivan’s eyes landing on a cloaked figure and the mule itself.

“Maddox,” An enchanting, smoky female voice called out. Maddox smiled brazenly, chuckling.

“Aye, Taarini.” Maddox greeted warmly. “What are you doing in this horrid weather?”

“Ag feachaint ar asal do dhuine dall.” Taarini laughed warmly as she answered in the old language. She turned her amused gaze to Erivan. “You shouldn’t assume there isn’t a fair share of people who still speak the old language. It may be dead or dying, but nothing stays dead forever.”

“Of course, Taarini. How foolish of me.” Erivan sassed, sarcastically rolling his eyes. “Thank you, oh great one.”

“Sarcasm. Funny most of the time, but when it comes from you it's just simply rude. Maybe if I cut your tongue out, it’ll stop rolling off.” Taarini sneared, smiling devilishly as she walked the mule to Maddox. “Do you not remember the last time I gave your ass a lesson?”

“Children,” Maddox chimed. “This is not the time. Maybe when the weather is better and we can have spectators on a warm, sunny day. Aye?” 

Maddox laughed robustly, taking the reins from Taarini and turning back for the farm. “Come on, Erivan! I can’t always walk by myself. So, kiss the pretty lass goodbye and move your feet.”

“You’re a mad man!” Erivan shouted after him, scurrying to catch up. A few feet behind Maddox, Erivan turned around to gaze where he once was standing with Taarini. She was still standing there, the rain seemling becoming heavier and something unnatural hanging in the air. His gaze rested on her for a moment longer. Taarini everything is shrouded in mystery and questions. No one knew exactly what she looked like, except the bold, rosy pink lips, the slender and strong jaw and jawline. The high cheekbones and the gray and gold mix-matched eyes that rested upon them. Everything else was covered with the hood of a cloak and a black fox mask.

In a blink of an eye, Taarini disappeared behind a caravan passing through town. Erivan blinked rapidly, searching around him before he sighed and shook his head. “You’re going crazy Eri. You’ll go completely insane hanging out with Mad.”

He continued mumbling to himself, breathing easier as the rain and air lightened up in the surrounding area as he hastened for the farm.

A scream erupted from the inside of Solas De Danaan as Jericho, Armazi, and Gemini reigned in their paint mares and gelding. The three snapped their attention to the guild, unmounted and tied the reins to the post, busting through the front door of the guild. 

Inside the fortified guild, the pale ashen oakwood floors were spacious with dark red mahogany tables and chairs. A bartop that had a matching wood stain, the shelves behind it, just as dark with mirror essence casted behind them. From the main floor, pale ashen oak stairs spiraled to the second floor and led to the library and a secondary storage room and office. Magical orbs of pure light floated and bobbed above the heads of the guild members who had immersed themselves in the situation at hand.

Asena, a sun kissed woman with golden blonde hair that curled at her mid back and eyes that could set your world on fire. Her fiery hazel eyes rested upon soft cheekbones that were dusted with freckles. Her physic was lean and curvy, but be no fool, she can out drink any man and leave him under the table. Despite her feminine and goddess like beauty, she can and most likely will put you in your place. Lesson, never dirty your hands if it means crossing someone who can literally light your ass on fire. 

Asena shrieked again as the figure of Taarini glitched out of sight again, appearing next to her. Arealla, the assisting bartender and right hand to the master of the guild, gasped as she quickly grabbed the bottle of bourbon from in front of Asena before she got coated in the sticky, fraganted liquor again and rapidly took a few steps away from the fiery woman. 

“No! Stop it!”Arealla yelled abruptly, looking from Asena to the glitching figure of Taarini. Asena glared at her desperately.

“You act like this is my doing!” She snapped. “Make her stop tormenting me every time she comes around!”

Armazi, Asena’s brother, scoffed. “Sister, are you sure the drink isn’t finally going to your head?”

Armazi,who has the build of a boxer, a strong and sharp jaw, golden brown shoulder length hair, the same fiery hazel eyes as his sister’s, bold cheekbones and a well kept beard. He leaned forward over the bar, taking the bottle from Arealla. Asena and Arealla locked baffled glares onto the brother, questioning his own sanity. 

“You know damn well, very well, it takes us both to have downed the whole store to get even remotely drunk before our bodies burn it off!” Asena growled. “So either someone else makes Taarini stop or I will burn her alive!”

Like speaking of the devil, Taarini appeared physically behind Asena with a bucket of water and ice mixed with thick honey. Followed hastily after, she dumped a sackful of white feathers on the sun magic mage. Asena screamed like a banshee once more. Golden flames licked up her calves, slowly. Within milliseconds, her whole body was engulfed in the pure flames. Armazi clapped amusedly as everyone dove from the bursting flames. 

“You vile vixen!” Asena screeched, the hatred rolling off of her tongue. “How dare you!”

“Cool it, hothead.” Taarini laughed coolly, strolling to the other side of the bar nonchalantly. “I thought you just needed to be a little cold to feel the burn of the drink.”

Asena growled, blasting golden flames at the mage who became consumed by them. The surrounding guild members gasped, only for confusion to cross their faces as a shadow figure of Taarini pushed Asena against the bar. The flames died down from Asena and Taarini, the masked mage coming out unscathed.

The shadow figure dissipated in a puff of smoke that traveled along the ashen oak floors. Taarini sighed doubtfully, “We do this every time I come back to the city. We used to be friends. What happened?”

Asena frowned disapprovingly. “You kept leaving.”

Taarini grinned cheekily. “But I got you something this time.”

“And let’s see if Asena can be bought back.” Jericho laughed out, taking a seat at a far corner table, Gemini joining him.

“I don’t know whose side I’m on.” Gemini chuckled lightly, watching intensely. “I love them both dearly.”

“Hon,” Lyra, a fellow guild mage with a curvy body, tanned skin, long white hair with ombre gold ends and silver eyes with flecks of black in the iris, full lips and a slender profile. “I don’t even think you know what side of you you’re on.”

“Aye, I second that.” Jericho and Armazi agreed in harmony. Gemini gasped, looking between both men.

“I’ve been good!” She squealed. “I promise!”

“Here, Gem.” Arealla smiled genuinely. “Have a drink.”

Gemini slid her gaze to Arealla, who handed the girl a bottle of ale. She smiled appreciatively and took a long drink from the neck. 

“Or you can just continue to hate me for something I have no control over.” Taarini mused, sliding her mix-matched eyes to Asena. “You also have the option of brawling it out with me. It’s not healthy to bottle your emotions.”

“Says the one that never vents to anyone about anything.” Lyra shot back in an undertone.

Asena grinned maddeningly, standing from her seat. “Oh, I’d really love the chance to burn that mask away.”

“I’d like to see you try, firebreather.” Taarini replied confidently, removing her hood from around her head, revealing her silver hair and gold streaked dreads. “I’ll even make it easier and more tempting for you.”

“Oh,” Kaimana, a male mage with silver and blue hair and aqua eyes muttered. “This just got interesting.”

“I don’t know what you want.” Faolan chuckled. “The flames to lick them or you to lick the flames.”

Kaimana looked at him with a perturbed glare. “Neither, you perv. I want the fight.”

[yunohawkeye]

Memories of you pt.6

This chapter isn’t beta-read so if you find anything let me know ^^

Tagging: @datemasamunemaiwaifu @lilster360

Before MC was able to gather information in the city she needed to disguise herself as a man. Otherwise the harbor worker wouldn't speak to her about their feelings about the city itself.

But she didn't imagine it to be as nerve-racking as it turned out to be.

„Masamune and you seem to be on edge. Everything alright between you two?“, the teasing tone in Mitsuhides voice didn't go unnoticed by MC who was searching for a suitable disguise for her with him.

With  a sigh she answered, „It's complicated...“

Raising an eyebrow the white-haired man asked further, „Complicated? So you have some kind of relationship struggle?“

„What?! No!“, the answer immediately came over her lips as she was ripped out of her examining the piece of clothing in her hands.

Without turning his gaze from the one in his hands Mitsuhide continued not even trying to conceal the smirk that grew on his face, „Oh? So you're either in denial or you just like to keep it a secret.“

Getting slightly irritated by that man MC defended herself, „No! Nothing like that! We hardly even know each other!“

Finally sparing her a short glance Mitsuhide chuckled, “Looks like denial to me.”

Getting angry by the indifference of the man MCs voice grew louder, “For the last time, no!”

He just looked at her completely calm as he held up a shirt, “Do you think that would fit?”

With a dissatisfied grunt she turned around and continued her search as his face finally faltered.

Maybe it's more complicated than he thought.

When you think of a nice stroll through town what do you think about? Some big streets full of people and shops at every corner? Yeah? MC thought the same thing. Normally she likes to spend a little time in the sunlit streets.

But dark shady alleyways weren't really on her happy list.

Not disturbed in the slightest by their surroundings Mitsuhide, who was covered in a black cloak, led her to a tavern that seems to have seen better days.

They came to a halt for a moment just before the door as he peered into her eyes with an intense look in his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder, “Listen, you're disguised as a man. So you have to act like one, alright?”

The moment MC gave an approving nod he opened the door without hesitation and walked inside, MC following close behind him.

As they were a few steps in he whispered, “I'll be nearby and keep an eye on you. If something makes you feel uncomfortable or you're feeling threatened give me a sign and I'll get you out of here.”

Getting more and more anxious by the second MC gave a tense nod which her partner noticed straight away, “Either that or I'll just leave you there to be torn to pieces by your drunk foes.”

Immediately lightening a fire inside of her she angrily hissed his way, “What? You'd do wh-?”

“That's the spirit I wanted to see. Now you're fired up enough. If you'd go in there with hat self conscious attitude they'll literally rip you into pieces”, Mitsuhide explained before he made his way to the darker area of the tavern and took a seat on a table, gesturing her to take place at the bar.

Swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath to calm down her nerves MC started to move and sit down next to who seemed to be a harbor worker based on his looks and signaled the barkeeper to pour her a drink.

After taking a sip from his beer the worker eyes her curiously, “And who the hell are you?”

Flinching from the harsh tone in his voice MC gave a quick reply, “I... I...”

Coughing to get control over her voice again she tried again, “I'm John. Just arrived today and got a job at the construction site of the harbor.”

Still suspicious the other male pierced into her eyes.

Her heart was racing and her palms started to sweat while some thoughts were forming in her head.

What if he notices I'm a woman?

Why does it take so long for him to answer?

But instead of exposing her the man just grumbled as he turned his gaze back to his beer, “Alright then.”

While letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding she glanced shortly to Mitsuhide and noticed that he kept his promise and was meeting her gaze, giving a slight nod.

This gave MC a rush of confidence.

He didn't lie.

If something is about to happen he'd get her out of here.

Feeling bold with that knowledge on her side she decided to keep up the conversation, “So... Since I'm new... Anything I should know?”

This seemed to have loosened up the guy. Maybe it was because she bought him a few more rounds but that wasn't the point.

After chatting with him for a while she got some useful information. Not much. But at least something.

There has been an gigantic rise of inspections on all the construction sites and companies fired some seemingly random people.

And not to forget the figures that linger around in some kind of uniforms.

As time flew by the guy had to go home and MC finished her drink so she could go to Mitsuhide and tell him the information she gathered. But when she glanced over to him she saw him rather distressed, giving her subtle sign to leave.

A moment later she found out why as a deep rumbling voice spoke up next to her, “Two beer. For me and my friend.”

Feeling a hand on her shoulder she prepared herself for the worst.

But as MC looked to her left she had to tilt her head back to look up to the guys face which was beaming down on her as he continued, “If you'd like to stay and chat for a while.”

Figuring that this was a good way to gather some more background information she agreed and mustered him.

He was very tall with a friendly face, warm, brown eyes and short almost black hair. He was wearing some kind of armor and a giant axe on his back.

Noticing her look of distress he gave her a reassuring smile, “Don't worry. As long as you don't break the law this stays sheathed.”

Giving a little nod the barkeeper put down the ordered beer in front of them and the guy took a big sip out of it, almost emptying half of it, “So you're new here? Sorry, I overheard a little bit of your conversation with the other guy. How do you like Marayuki?”

Trying to give a convincing smile MC answered, “Uhm... It's pretty nice!”

Acting surprised the man spoke up, “Oh! I forgot to ask for your name. Mine's Canmore.”

Suspiciously MC answered, “I'm John. But if you'd excuse me for a moment. Had some beers and need to go to the bathroom quickly.”

Standing up hastily she made her way through the people and tables until she finally found the exit.

Not a moment later Mitsuhide joined her outside and wordlessly dragged her with him. People turned into flashed of colors and light as they passed them, running down the main street. Crowds seem to be a great disguise in this city as everyone wore colorful clothing that made it hard to find something.

This seemingly endless slowing down and speeding up made MC loose every little bit of her sense of direction as she possessed.

After what felt like eternity they turned into another alleyway where they kept their pace a little bit slower than before and she was finally able to catch her breath.

Thinking the danger was over MC asked, “What just happened back there? Who was this guy?”

“Not here”, Mitsuhide immediately shushed her as he walked on and they kept their pace until takes another turn in an even more creepy alleyway which MC greeted with utter joy.

But she wasn't able to transmit her dissatisfaction as he opened the door to a seemingly abandoned house and gestured her inside.

After passing through the doorway he immediately gripped her on her shoulders and pushed her on the floor him just floating centimeters above her and a finger on his lips, gesturing her to keep her mouth shut.

Fairly confused MC thought something bad was going to happen but moments later some shadows ran past the window.

Were they following them? How did they keep up when even she didn't know which way they went?

These thoughts were gone the moment Mitsuhide stood up again, offering her his hand which she took.

After taking a deep breath MC asked again, “What happened? Who was that guy in the bar? And why are there some guys following us?”

Grinning his signature smile Mitsuhide answered, “I'll explain everything to you. But first sit down, little one. Seems like we'll be stuck here for a while.”

[asterinjapan]

A whole Latte (window) shopping

Good evening from a rainy Tokyo! And no apologies for that awful pun in the title, haha.

Yeah, so uhm, two new tropical storms have formed… One has already dwindled down to a low pressure system, bringing in a ton of rain tonight into tomorrow over areas that have already had plenty of rani last week. The second is a typhoon right now and will probably tun into a low pressure area as well when it approaches late this week. The already battered parts of Japan really can’t catch a break, yikes.

For me, it’s just a mild inconvenience. Tokyo will get rain, and pretty much all my side trips are falling through as they’re in dangerous areas due to risk of landslides and what not, but I can definitely keep myself otherwise entertained. I can only hope that these storms blow over without too much additional damage.

Anyway! I finally managed to wear myself out today, haha, and that despite just sticking to the city I’m staying in. Climbing mountains is easy, but (window) shopping does me in!

Follow me below for my report of today, consisting of Shibuya revisited, hopping over to Harajuku and Akihabara and ending with dinner with a certain bright yellow mascot. Pictures will be up tomorrow morning!

First things first, I had a train ticket to secure for a trip that will happen no matter what: the ride to the airport on the 28th. The Narita Express doesn’t often go through Ikebukuro, but it does at a convenient time for me for once on the 28th, so I wanted to get a seat on that train, haha. Sure, I have to get up early, but I can throw my luggage into the luggage corner, take a seat, and only get up once I’m at the airport. I’ve nearly always had to transfer after the Yamanote line, which is not a lot of fun when you have heavy bags with you. So! I made my way to the JR East travel office, since the normal ticket office apparently can’t reserve seats on the Narita Express for you, and secured my seat. I also asked about trains further out, and got confirmed what I was already suspecting: dangerous, cancelled lines, etcetera. Well, I’m not gonna risk it. Too bad about my JR pass, but it’s given me my free seat in the Narita Express, and the shorter trips throughout Tokyo secretly add up a lot too if you don’t have a free pass. It has long since paid itself off!

Well, I had gotten a relatively early start today, so I went to Shibuya again at a calm pace. It was only a little after ten, so the crossing was pretty empty compared to yesterday, haha. I first hopped over to the Disney store to secure my ticket for Disneyland. Hey, it’s tradition by now! There was only one person in front of me instead of a long line (going on a Monday morning really helps), so that was quickly arranged. After some shop browsing, I traced my way to my Miyamasu Mitake shrine (I’m getting possessive over it by now, haha). And behold, the shop was open! I could finally hand in my omamori, protective charm, which I’d gotten almost 2 years ago (you’re supposed to hand it back in after a year). I immediately got a new one, of course. Still white, because I think the other ones were more specific, and ‘general luck’ has worked fine so far I’d say!

I had a light and early lunch at a nearby café and then went back to the station to go one stop further on the Yamanote line: Harajuku. I usually go to the fancy Omotesando street or the Meiji shrine, but today, I went into Takeshita street. That’s what you think of when you hear Harajuku, I guess, haha, sinc this street is lined with a ton of fashion stores and all kinds of food. There’s one stall that’s gotten pretty well known for its huge rainbow colored candy floss, which are indeed a sight to behold (but I held off for now, I needed to be hungry for dinner). My main mission here was finding a coat, but I got immensely sidetracked by super cute clothing everywhere. No coats that fit my criteria, but I sure had fun window shopping and I’m seriously considering a couple of outfits. Not the very fancy frilly gorgeous dresses, though. I mean, they are amazingly gorgeous and not as outrageously expensive as you might think (not cheap by all means, but I’ve seen more expensive clothes in my little home town) but still… I don’t think I’d dare to wear them? Also, those would definitely mean I have to buy a second suitcase, haha.

Once I went back and forth through Takeshita street, I went back to the station for my next stop on the Yamanote line: Akihabara station, also known as nerd central I guess, haha. Truth is, in earlier years I didn’t really like Akihabara. As it turns out, it really depends on what shops you visit. I know a couple now that mostly cater towards my interests, but there are also a lot of shops here that cater to a male audience, if you catch my drift. But now, I had a lot of fun window shopping and making a mental list of what’s available. I accidentally bought a couple of figurines last year and that’s definitely a trap, now I keep looking, haha.

It was cooling down, so I fled into the station for my final stop for today: Tokyo station. I was going to head to the café I had my reservation for, but it was like an hour and a half in advance, so I first strolled through the underground Tokyo Station city. There is a street called character street which has a lot of specialized merchandise stores, and I always struggle to find it, but today I just – walked right into it as I was looking for my exit for the café, haha. This time, I ended up buying a couple of clearfiles, and then I slowly made my way to the Yaesu North exit.

A short walk later, I was at my destination: the Pokémon DX store with adjacent Pokémon café! You can only get into the café for a meal if you have reservations. I found out in the nick of time that you only need a credit card if you want to pre-order exclusive goods, so I managed to make a reservation for today a week or so before I hopped onto my plane. I was still too early, so I did a lot of browsing in this Pokémon store. I’ve visited quite some Pokémon stores by now, but this one takes the cake. It’s roomy, big, interactive, and has a ton of products I haven’t seen anywhere else yet. Do you want a Pokémon plushie? You can literally get one for every single Pokémon from the first 2 generations, so like – 251. I was strong and steered clear of plushies today, but I did have a wishlist now, haha. There is also a long wall that shows the development of the games throughout the years, that was so fun and nostalgic to watch!

At long last, I got to enter the café! I was seated at the long table in the center, right next to the statue of Pikachu, and got to order my dishes through the tablet on table, which had multiple language options. Of course, I opted for the limited time Pikachu Halloween plate, and I also got a latte with Pokémon art on it. You can pick from the first 251 Pokémon, but I went with Eevee. I was going to get an Eevee mug separately, because I thought you could only order it with the hot cocoa, but it turns out you can get it with the latte too if you have the Eevee art, haha. So I got a receipt for my order plus mug and settled in to eat. But there was a surprise: Chef Pikachu came out to meet everyone! Japan sure loves its mascot characters, so you bet they have tons of Pikachu suit characters. (Heck, there’s a whole parade of them in Yokohama in summer.) Pikachu made his rounds to shake hands with everyone and seemed rather taken by the small Pikachu I had brought with me and remembered to put on my shoulder in the nick of time, haha.

The plate was actually pretty good! I mean, not haute cuisine, and you can definitely get more extravagant meals for this price elsewhere, but hey, will it be shaped like Pikachu with a witch hat? I think not. Don’t go to character cafés if you want quality food, but do go if you want to take in the atmosphere and enjoy the way the food looks. Japan is all about presentation.

I had a good time here, although I was too full for dessert, so I ordered a float drink instead inspired by the legendary bird Pokémon Articuno. It was a fizzy drink that was a tad too sweet for my taste, but hey, it came with a free coaster! For every drink, you get a coaster. You can pick a random card on a tablet, and that card determines which coaster you get. Since it’s Halloween season, you could also pick the official Halloween 2019 Pikachu coaster, which I had done for the latte. For the random pick, I got Espeon! Nice.

You can spend at most 90 minutes at the café before your time is up, so after my last photos, I made my way to the register to pay for my food, a set of clear files, and of course my new Eevee mug, which they promptly wrapped up nicely for me, so I can’t show a picture of it yet, haha. I then wandered into the store to grab some goods I had gotten my eye on (not all for me! I do souvenirs for others too!), and finally made it out again. Sadly, it had started to drizzle, so I walked to the station fast and made way to Ikebukuro.

So now here I am! Tomorrow is a holiday since it’s the enthronement of the Emperor, but they postponed the procession until November due to typhoon Hagibis (and I bet they don’t regret that decision now, what with the current weather). It doesn’t sound like there’s a lot to see for us mere mortals. Although I suppose this means I’m physically closer to my country’s king and queen than I’ve ever consciously been back home, as they’re attending the ceremony tomorrow, haha. Ah well.

With the weather forecast, I think I’ll go over to Ueno Park to visit the National Museum of Nature and Science, since I’ve been throwing that one longing looks since 2010, but never let myself visit before. And after that, I’ll see – maybe some karaoke? I’ll hold off on more shopping for now as Wednesday will be busy (Disney!), and then I’ll just see what the weather will do and what my safe options are, because I’m not gonna take unnecessary risks.

It’s getting late here, so I’ll upload the pictures tomorrow morning. Good night for now!

[awfully-sadistic]

Week 1: Oct 3rd

The Adventures of Dottie and Dodger A series of linear prompt one-shots.

By now, I know this has gotten too ambitious. But I’m stubborn and I want to see my dreams realized.

“Are you guys almost done?” Dot called out over her shoulder in the middle of shutting her suitcase. It was the ungodly hour of seven in the morning and due to Stephen Strange, and Stephen Strange only, she found herself up at the ass crack of dawn so they could hit the road. Whitecrest wasn’t far from Ashbourne as she had told Doctor Strange yesterday; it was a three-hour drive to Whitecrest if traffic was good and a two hour drive back.

She took another look around the space to see if she was missing anything. The office space was looking more and more like home. Dot figured that was a good thing considering she might be spending more time at work than home, it should feel comfortable enough to be a second one.

After Stephen’s visit yesterday, Dot went through the office space and all of its furniture to see if they could find a nice armchair for him in case he visited again. She didn’t know why but a good armchair just seemed to suit him. She managed to find one that passed her inspection and set up a nice little seating area near a wide window with a nice view out towards the city. She had Dodger push over a couch, a coffee table, and threw a nice rug on the ground to finish off the area. She hated open spaces so the office was beginning to reflect that.

Past the receptionist area was the main assembly of cubicles and desks. They still didn’t need that many but it didn’t make the room look empty so it stayed. The breakroom consisted of a room with a functional kitchen that hooked the corner as soon as you entered the main office space, which Dot has been fond of calling The Pen just like in a police station. She had no idea what else to call it and she wasn’t going to refer to it as “the big space with all the desks” so The Pen it stayed. Surrounding The Pen were varying office rooms. If The Pen was a square, the office rooms starting from the breakroom corralled it in. There was a hallway in the back that led into a storage room and a men’s and women’s bathroom.

Tucked in the corner behind the Receptionist area was the spot with the seating area she hoped to one day serve tea or coffee like a fancy person to Doctor Strange.

Or any other guest, she supposed. She knew fuck all of what to do with the other rooms but it’d come to her and Dodger when the time came. There was still a huge ass room across from where she stored her clothes she didn’t know what to do with, either. Maybe she could convert a couple of rooms into sleeping spaces if they were going to pull all-nighters but the thought of having to drag beds into the office just worn her out.

It was a good thing Dodger could carry shit the size of an elephant.

“We’re finished!” Armand called from beyond The Pen. He came out of Dot’s closet space wearing what looked like one of her outfits. He even had a little suitcase in his hand. Dot did a double take before laughing.

Armand was wearing what looked like one of her sundresses with a matching sunhat. She hasn’t worn that outfit in ages and it was only for an afternoon Derby she and Dodger had been undercover for as the jockeys claimed their stables were being haunted. The case required the both of them to infiltrate an exclusive club and they had to look the part. Dot didn’t own anything stuffy nor appropriate enough to match the Derby’s dress code so she went out and bought a floral-printed, faded yellow sundress and a big, floppy bowknot sunhat with sandals. It was partly a joke, when was Dot ever going to wear something like this out and about normally?

Apparently Armand didn’t have to wonder the circumstances. He stopped in front of Dot and when he beamed, it seemed to radiate like sunshine. He seemed proud as he declared, “Look, I dressed up as you.”

His waif-like appearance and androgynous features made it uncertain whether Armand had masculine features whatsoever as Dot studied him. It was harder to tell since he wore his hair long and it looked as soft as silk and flowed just as easily. His limbs were long and delicate looking but his hands were masculine. But his broad shoulders and narrow hips also hinted that he wasn’t entirely feminine after all. The sundress was a little short on him and that was expected since he was taller than Dot. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“You really did,” Dot smiled as her giggles died down. “you look great, honey. Do you like the dress?”

“It’s really nice. And when I twirl, it tickles my legs.” he said, doing just that. Dot had to laugh again then gestured at the suitcase. She had an idea but she wanted to ask anyway since Armand didn’t really have a wardrobe to call his own.

“What’s in there?”

“I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed another outfit.”

Dot could feel her smile widening. She was possessive as hell especially over her clothes but she found that she didn’t mind one bit that Armand wanted to wear any of her stuff. In fact, she felt proud and a sensation that was like watching a child trying on their mommy’s clothes.

“That’s absolutely okay. If you want to borrow anything else, feel free. I’ll bring more stuff from my closet so you always have new stuff to rotate.”

Armand’s smile brightened just as Dot’s, the two already knowing they were going to make a thing out of sharing Dot’s wardrobe.

“Why are you two looking at each other like that?” Dodger asked, interrupting their moment. He had finally finished packing. Since his wardrobe was at home, he was tasked with packing the equipment they might need to help them with their case.

“Just wondering when you were going to get your slowpoke butt in gear,” Dot teased. “Are you ready?”

Dodger nodded lifting up the two items he had in his hand; they were hard-case briefcases specially made to carry their equipment so it wouldn’t get damaged when they traveled. Dot nodded in approval as soon as she noted them and gestured with her head, grabbing her own suitcase.

“Let’s head out, loves.”

Armand gently took Dot’s suitcase from her hand as she turned to lock the office doors as soon as they were outside. When she turned to take it back, she saw that Armand was already helping Dodger put everything in the trunk of their “company” car; a Hummer H3 the color of royal purple with black accents Dot affectionately calls Leviathan. She smiled at the scene before tacking up their “OUT OF THE OFFICE” sign on the door just in case they get another prospective client. It was a simple form telling anyone that they’d be back later in the evening and if they wanted, they could leave their name and number and someone would get to them as soon as they returned.

The trip to Whitecrest was as expected; traffic was condensed in the city as people were on their way to work. The further out they got, it became sparse and Dot was allowed to drive as far as her foot can go down on the gas. Dodger eased her back to a reasonable speed before she would slowly start to overtake cars again and eventually he gave up.

Armand paid special attention to the scenery and Dot had to wonder if it was the first time he was seeing any of this stuff. He seemed entranced by everything he was witnessing unable to tear his gaze away from the window. He asked questions about nearly everything and Dot was glad Dodger had someone to impress with his wealth of knowledge because she sure as fuck didn’t know half the time. Dodger spouted off information about the trees they were seeing as the concrete of a bigger city with its skyscrapers bled into trees just as tall. It was wilderness now and despite it crawling towards ten in the morning, the trees casted shade that made it seem like late in the afternoon. Once Armand’s questions died down, the silence was replaced with Dot’s music; her iPod the DJ of choice whenever they made long trips.

When they finally arrived to Whitecrest, they knew it instantly.

“Why the fuck is there water everywhere?” Dot asked, glad that her H3 was an off-road vehicle. She knew Whitecrest was categorized as “different” since the Great War but she didn’t expect there to be this much of a difference from a three-hour trip out of town. The entire area was a marshland and she had no idea. Trees were now overhead and plenty casting the region in a perpetual state of gloom. Dot had to turn her headlights on in order to see in front of her. Apparently Whitecrest was a valley made up of rivers and ponds bordered by three sides of mountain. Dot had hoped that the road she was on was taking them to the town. It didn’t seem like the town even had the sense to pave it; she was driving on a dirt path now and it seemed like the only path she could take, the H3 rolling and bumping along as it ate up old waterlogged trunks that had fallen in the road.

Dodger had taken out his laptop and flipped it open. From the corner of her eye, she could see that he had changed his wallpaper to Dot and Armand standing in front of their new office building, posing as if it were a grand opening. So that was why he wanted to take a picture. Dot smiled before asking, “What are you doing, Dodge?”

“Looking up information about Whitecrest. In all the excitement from the Doctor’s visit, I forget to do it.”

Dot perked an eyebrow. Dodger never forgot to do anything related to accumulating new facts. Doctor Strange must have made a very good impression on him. She remained quiet and focused on steering the Hummer through the marshland while listening to Dodger’s fingers fly across the keys like its own musical orchestra. It had always impressed her that Dodger had designed their database filled to the brim with sprawling information from everything to articles to mundane tidbits from around the world and he was always filling it with something new he learned; information was literally quite at their fingertips aligned with as much as Dodger knew. Dot wagered it must be a lot. She had only skimmed the database herself able to find what she was looking for with just a simple phrase input through the search engine. Much like an iceberg, she knew there was more below the surface but she wasn’t that ambitious enough to make full use of the database. Not when Dodger did it himself.

Besides, it seemed complicated. Maybe sophisticated was a better word. She was afraid of touching something wrong and breaking the entire system. Dodger had reassured her many times that she could never break it, but for the most part, she entrusted him to do the fact checking. It made sense to her considering before they were partnered, he was doing the paperwork for the Agency.

It occurred to her that he must have learned a lot about their data system in order to create his own for their company. Yeah, sophisticated seemed the right word. Dodger’s system was a lot more sophisticated than the Agency’s. She wondered when they were going to realize the loss they took when Dodger went with her. Not that he’d want to go back.

Or like she’d give him back.

“The database states that Whitecrest was once a harbor city but has been flooded since the Great War.”

“D.I.D. has information about Whitecrest? When did you do this?”

“D.I.D.?”

“Uh, Dodger’s Information Database,” Dot laughed.

“I like it,” Dodger said before continuing, “Anyway, D.I.D. does have information on Whitecrest. I upgraded the system with a feature that implements the accumulation of articles around the internet by typing in a keyword. Pooled with the knowledge I had input from everything I have known and remembered as I’ve read it, it pulls every known article or piece of information based on the two worlds to structure the best article of information we might need to know if we’re going to be working on a case in an unknown area.”

Dot remained quiet for a moment, head turning over what she just took in. “So, it’s like Googling something.”

“Yes. But instead of pages of sites you have to wade through to get to the information you want, the algorithm I’ve developed pulls pertinent information from sites all over into a comprehensible guidebook. It’s sort of like a Wikipedia page but without the banner that’s asking you to donate every three months.”

“Is it reliable?”

“Naturally.” Dodger boasted. “The AI I’ve developed factchecks over everything, it’s 99% accurate. It’s what decides is pertinent to share and what’s useless information.”

“…You’ve developed an AI?”

“It’s not that hard. Especially after reverse engineering the Glass—”

“I’m not going to get into that right now. I don’t know this, I never will. I don’t even want to be a witness,” Dot shot before asking, “So it’s like a wiki page without room for human error is how I’m understanding this. That’s aside from the fact that’s where our records go from the cases we take from this point forward, right?”

Dodger made an affirmative hum, adding, “The beauty of it is that we add personal experiences to the areas we’ve been. Especially if we need to bring back a record of it as pristine as we’ve lived it. That’s why our reports of events are going to be important and it gets bolstered with the video we always take on our jobs. We won’t ever recall anything wrong though, with our memory combined, it’s already nearly impossible. It’s to reassure our clients, more or less.”

“The Agency’s never had anything like this.” Dot said with a sense of amazement.

“They never will.”

There was a moment of appreciative silence as both mull over the conversation. Dot’s head was still reeling with the improved search function, it was about the only thing she used on D.I.D.. She couldn’t believe Dodger felt the need to upgrade it, now she was going to feel like she was going to break that, too.

The silence was broken when Armand spoke up. “I’ll admit. I have no idea what you two are talking about.”

Dot laughed. “Sorry, hon. It’s alright. Just computer stuff. Dodger’s still teaching you how to use one, right? Especially since you’re going to be our receptionist?”

“Ah!” Armand sounded cheerful, “yes, he’s been teaching me. The both of them! The man in the computer is really helpful.”

Dodger turned to explain as Dot gave him a puzzled look, “My attendant director is going to be his assistant so he’ll have an easier time. You know, the AI I was telling you about.”

“Your fucking—” Dot still couldn’t wrap her head around it. “Attendant director?”

“He helps me with stuff.” Dodger said. “Think of him as the head butler of D.I.D.”

Dot laughed before she got excited, “Oh! Oh! DAD. Call him D.A.D. Dodger’s Attendant Director.”

“You’re pretty good at that,” Dodger chuckled in appreciation. “right on the nose with acronyms. D.A.D. it is.”

“Well, if I couldn’t hack it as an agent at the Agency or a Private Investigator, I would have had a lucrative job as a writer. It was my dream, you know.” Dot divulged. She missed the surprised look Dodger gave her before he turned to his laptop to write something down.

After he was done, he picked up on the line he had been reading before. “As I was saying about Whitecrest, the former successful harbor town was just one of the many causalities of the Great War. A Glassing attempt was made on the city which contributes to its change today.”

“What’s Glassing?” Armand asked from the backseat.

“Glassing is a term attributed to the terrain change caused by the Dovirs. It wasn’t enough that the Alien fleet was trying to annihilate us or use us in their war, but they were trying to alter the terrain by bombarding it with their alien weaponry. It’s unclear what they used or what procedures consists of Glassing as it took place primarily in orbit. As you can imagine, Human and Supernatural settlements alike had no way of defending against such a devastating attack.”

“That’s so terrible. So many people must have died…” Armand sounded sad and Dot had a hard time trying to focus on the road. She wanted to tell Dodger to switch to something lighter but she needed to know this too.

“It’s alright, love. As you can see, Whitecrest is still here.” She held off on adding the sarcastic remark about as much as it could be, half-sunken in the sea. She couldn’t help but point out something tragic as the realization came to her. “Glassing happened all over, right? I never knew Whitecrest was one of the places that had been targeted. We were so close. It could have been Ashbourne.”

“Rest assured, this took place hundred and hundreds of years ago,” Dodger said, looking at Armand and then at Dot. “Whitecrest came out of it as many other settlements that were dire victims of Glassing.”

Dot noticed he didn’t mention the ones who didn’t. But then again, he didn’t need to as the air hung heavy with the unsaid. Dot cleared her throat and asked Dodger to continue with the history of Whitecrest. He did.

“Since then, the harbor has experienced strange phenomena with the ocean.” Dodger paused as he added his own input. “Which isn’t unusual now. Since the introduction of Glassing to our planet, it’s changed the shift of the oceans. Nowadays, we experience quite the odd assortment of weather on seas. Weather patterns are more extreme and just a few years ago, the Agency were able to prove the existence of Sea Monsters. Apparently, they were woken up by the Great War and haven’t went back to bed since.”

“Apparently the Dovirs have never heard of the expression of letting sleeping dogs lie,” Dot said dryly.

“I thought they were Sea Monsters.” Armand said, sounding confused.

Dot laughed, “It’s a saying, sweetheart. It means to leave things as they are.”

Armand then asked, “Why did it take the Agency so long to verify the existence of Sea Monsters?”

“Good question,” Dot smiled. “I’ll answer this one, Dodge. You see, Armand, Jr. The sea is a huge and vast place. Our planet is mostly made up of water. Long ago, I think the verified percentage was 71%. Now, it’s 77%. It rose a little but that little is a lot. It’s unclear what exactly changed but a lot suspect Glassing and that tear that connects us with 616 did a lot to shift our world. With our planet being mostly water, that gives these Sea Monsters a lot of room to hide. Not just to hide but live; the ocean is incredibly deep. It’s like a whole other world under there. I guess, one day, like the rest of the Supernaturals, the Sea Monsters decided they didn’t just want to hunt in their own territory but make the entire sea theirs, too. Last I remember, the Agency wasn’t even sure how many species of Sea Monster there were and how big they can get. One day, I think that’s going to bite us in the ass.”

“That’s… so terrifying.” Armand said, eyes round and complexion looking a lot pale than normal. Dot thought it was adorable; not scaring him but that fact that Armand gets scared even though he could phase through bodily harm. She nodded in agreement.

“It’s a fascinating subject.” Dot admitted. “The ocean is so amazing.”

It was around this time Dodger figured there wasn’t any more information they’d need about the town since they were so close to it anyway. They could see the top of a building with a roof that looked built with clay shingles. There was a slight tower that pushed past the cacophony of trees but didn’t look like it’d stay that way for long. Give or take a few more years and that too would be covered one day. Dot pulled the H3 on a patch of dry land; she wasn’t about to step out into the mud.

From what she could see, the town wasn’t very large at all. It seemed to be all condensed in a town square, flooded to the ankle with water that was coming in from the sea. She made a face as she opened her door. “I hope to god we’re not stuck wading around in water all day…”

“It looks that way,” Dodger answered, opening his.

The area they parked was a safe haven of dry spots. Out in the open, they could see that there were few safe havens but trees mostly took up the space. Old houses and establishments were flooded as far as the eye can see but that didn’t seem to bother anybody in town. It was still morning so they didn’t see a lot of people out and about, but who they could see were either inside or sitting in rowboats that littered the square.

“Are people living in some of those rowboats?” Dot whispered, not wanting to make a bad impression. She learned quickly that you can say what you want to say out loud but if you start insulting anyone, it gets hard to get information out of them. For the most part, she made snide comments to Dodger and that seemed to satisfy her enough without compromising anything.

“It seems so.” Dodger said with a stoic mask slipped into place. Dot was amazed how he could look like he passed no judgement on anyone. But she could feel the cautious energy on him. He turned to Armand, mentioning, “You might want to change your shoes, lass.”

Armand took a sweeping look around after coming around from Dot’s side. His face fell. “Oh yeah. I don’t want to walk on that.” then he asked, “What if I hover?”

“That’d be suspicious.” Dodger answered. “We don’t want to spook anyone immediately.”

“Sorry, love. I’d feel better if you wore something to cover your feet, too.” Dot knew it was silly to fret about a ghost feeling cold or getting its feet wet but Armand didn’t fall in the umbrella of indifference now. She felt responsible for him and wanted to make sure he was taken care of.

The trio went to the back of the truck and started to unload. Dodger gathered the equipment with the spare suitcases they were going to check into the inn. He carried it like it was nothing. That was okay with Dot because it gave her the time to suit Armand with some boots; she kept a spare on hand in the back, somewhere, and while Armand was seated on the trunk bed, she changed his shoes for him.

“Did you want to keep your dress on?” she asked, wondering if it was a good call. There was no telling what this case might entail. Armand seemed to have the same thought.

“I should change, huh?”

“That’s fine. You can just wear a pair of leggings underneath,” Dot smiled. “I have those in spare, too.”

That seemed to light Armand up and it was decided. He had to take his boots off again but once he slipped into a pair of Dot’s leggings, boots on, the look was complete. Sort of. Given all the shade, the place was especially chilly in the October air. She knew Armand could not feel the cold, corporeal or not, yet she still didn’t like that he looked cold. She tied a scarf around his neck and placed one of her light jackets over his shoulder. It was a little tight around the shoulders and sleeves, but otherwise, fit him well enough. He didn’t complain about it, either. In fact, he looked downright thrilled to be wearing more of Dot’s clothes.

“There, now you’re good.”

Armand surprised her by doing the same. “So you don’t get cold, unlike me.” he grabbed another light jacket and placed it around Dot’s shoulders, too, making sure to zip it up the front. Sometimes with him being so naïve, he caught her by surprise by being aware of things like this, too.

She smiled, a touch shy, and nodded. “Good, we’re both ready.”

“And Dodger?” Armand asked, turning to see for himself.

“I’m always dressed for cold weather,” he mentioned. True enough, he was already in a coat and actually wore some gloves. But Dot wasn’t surprised.

“He gets cold easily,” she explained.

Whitecrest looked incredibly soaked. Deeper within the town square, the ground could not be seen unless it were raised. Dirty sea water was kicked up by Dot, Dodger’s, and Armand’s trekking footsteps, the trio careful not to trip over anything unseen. Once or twice, Dot could make out small fishies swimming by and she couldn’t pick between an expression of surprise or disgust. Why did they insist on staying like this? It looked like they were keeping most of the water at bay by sandbags but wouldn’t it be easier to pack up and leave?

“I guess there’s a reason why no one mentions that Whitecrest is half sinking into the ocean,” Dot muttered, lifting her right knee and shaking her foot out. “I hate the feel of my socks getting wet. I swear, if I step on a frog out here, we’re leaving.”

“What are you going to tell Doctor Strange?” Dodger asked while lifting his own knees with every step he took. He had the sneaking suspicion that they were sinking along with the town.

Dot didn’t answer mainly because she couldn’t entertain the thought of letting down Stephen whatsoever. Instead, she muttered, “Shush.” And continued to lead the way towards the biggest building she thought was important. She had hoped it was the inn so they can drop their stuff off in what was hopefully a second story room.

Somebody coughed turning Dot’s attention to the right. There was a grizzled looking man about in his forties slumped against a wall of sandbags. He puttered in place for a while, his actions looking sluggish and uncoordinated. Clearly the man has had one too many but Dot couldn’t blame him if he lived around here.

“I’m going to ask him for directions,” Dot said, nodding her head towards the old man.

Dodger made a noise of protest. “He could be the town drunk for all we know.”

“That’s better than nothing which is all I’m seeing.” Dot indicated around. There wasn’t anybody else to ask. Dodger didn’t protest any further but he did take Dot’s back and stuck close. Armand seemed to have the same idea, flanking Dot’s other side. Dodger might have his hands full if the town drunk seemed violent.

“Sir?” Dot asked, leaning forward and tilting her head towards the man’s movements. As soon as he realized Dot was in front of him, he gave a start, muttering a muffled cry of an old man clutching his chest.

“Gave me a fright,” he replied with a tone like an old grandpa. Part of his speech was muffled by the striped yellow and brown scarf he had wrapped around his neck that partly covered his mouth. His wool coat was tattered and Dot wasn’t sure if his gloves were meant to be fingerless. “Are ya new here in town?” he asked, sizing the trio up.

“Yeah, we’re doing a favor for someone. But we want to check in at the inn first. Can you tell us where that is?”

The man extended a hand which pointed across the street. It was a two-story building with a blue shingled roof and an entrance way that didn’t even bother with a doorway. Dodger made a noise at the back of his throat that indicated he wasn’t happy with the look but he didn’t say anything else. Dot didn’t blame him.

“Thanks,” she smiled. She was about to usher the group towards the inn but had a thought, turning back around. “And do you know where we can find somebody named Fitzsimmons?”

“The name’s First-Mate Fitzsimmons.” He drawled.

“Excuse me?” Dot asked, leaning in as if she mistaken.

“First-Mate Fitzsimmons and ya found ‘im.” He said with a hiccup. Dot drew back at once as soon as the gnarly scent wafted in her nose. She resisted the heavy urge to curse and shame this guy before she felt Armand draw her back, guiding her by the shoulders to his side.

“Can I ask what ya want wi’ me?” he asked, having no indication with how close he brushed with death. Dot swallowed her disgust and launched into work mode.

“Like I said, we’re doing a favor for someone. As far as we were told, we were supposed to seek out this Fitzsimmons. And then I guess from there, we help…” Dot knew she fell flat at the end there. She didn’t know what else to say and she didn’t want to waste words with a man who was probably too drunk to comprehend what she was saying.

The man suddenly wailed and it looked like he was about to go off in a fit. “That’s me! I’m tellin’ ya that’s me!”

“That wasn’t the issue here,” Dot said through nearly clenched teeth. She took in a deep breath, safely away from the drunkard. “Can you tell us why we were directed to you? Were you the one who made the request to Doctor Stephen Strange? If you’re confused about why we’re here instead, I can reassure you we were entrusted this task by him personally.”

The man settled down, slumping against the sandbag wall and Dot thought he might have passed out on his feet. His head was ducked and his eyes were close and Dot wasn’t tempted to really check.

“I hope Doctor Strange didn’t get a bogus request.” Dodger murmured.

Armand was still adamant on keeping Dot at his side. But he was intently watching with curious eyes. Dot could bet this was a strange scene. But there was no one else on the street and this old bum seemed to be the client of their client. Poor Stephen. Well, poor them, now. She was about to nod off at the group to recollect at the inn when the old man started talking again. At first, she thought she was mistaken because the sound came as a low rumble that caught her attention just as she was about to suggest leaving. When she faced Fitzsimmons again, his head was still bowed but he was definitely speaking now.

“I was once First-Mate on the Ocean Spray. One of the most magnificent ships ya’d ever lay eyes on, proud of our vessel we were. We were part of the trading fleet of Whitecrest’s boomin’ business. The Doomed Fleet. Didn’t think we’d hit out last voyage, sunk out at sea while on duty. I was the sole survivor.” He moaned, lifting his head. His eyes were watery and Dot could tell there was real emotion behind them without having to read him. The sensation of sadness hit her like waves next and she wondered if the Ocean Spray was met with similar ones. She could feel a lump settle in her throat and she cleared it, trying to get a line on her own emotions. Grounding herself was a good way not to get swept up in the emotions of others but sometimes, people’s emotions got strong. Thankfully, because Fitzsimmons was drunk, his memory had to be cloudy enough to prevent him from recalling the memories in vividness.

Still, it was hard to tell what Fitzsimmons wanted and why Stephen Strange had been called out to this small, flooded town for something that didn’t seem important. She couldn’t guess he was called in to deal with drunks now.

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss but I’m not clear what you want.” Dot gingerly put before the moaning interrupted her.

“I canna go on! Not without me drink!”

Dot looked stumped before she realized he was withholding his story in order to get another fix. “The hell?” she asked, not bothering to keep up her polite demeanor; especially if anyone thought she could be used. “What does that have to do with your favor? You called us for help, right?”

Apparently beggars can be choosers as Fitzsimmons seemed to ignore what Dot said, moaning pitifully, “Bring me my mead, lass. It’s in the cellar of the tavern o’er yonder.” He pointed towards the building next to the inn. They followed his gesture discovering that much like the inn, the tavern also lacked a front door and was also flooded before turning their attention to Fitzsimmons again. “It was taken from me, I canna go there an’ retrieve it.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Dodger said dryly.

“It’ll probably calm him down.” Dot sighed. She was weighing the options over in her head and it didn’t seem like they’d get very far if they didn’t fulfill this stupid request. “I don’t see him telling us anything else unless we get him something to drink. Since we’re going to the inn anyway, we might as well stop by the tavern.”

Dodger didn’t argue with that. The trio moved away from Fitzsimmons who was trying to find a good spot to settle against the sandbags. There was no doubt he’d wait there for his drink.

The inn, lacking a door, looked much like the outside in terms of the flooding. Except, brightly lit, you could see the wooden flooring. Right upon entering, there was a long desk and a sleepy looking female clerk reading a newspaper as she sat in a chair. She had faded red hair done in a sloppy pinned up-do and wore clothes that looked too modern that matched with the town’s appearance. She looked to be as old as Fitzsimmons but the stern expression she had on her face made her look older. Whether she was short or the chair, it was hard to tell. Her head barely cleared the counter as Dot walked right up to it. She looked up, lowering her glasses to take a good look at the trio.

“Yes—"

Armand rang the little bell.

The clerk looked annoyed but Dot’s gaze dared her to say something about it. The clerk continued after deciding that it was best not to pick a fight with a mother hen, “Can I help you?” even her tone sounded stern.

“We’d like a room to store our items. Does it cost anything to use a room for a couple of hours?” Dot asked. She surely wasn’t going to let anyone stay the night. She was also apprehensive of the clerk’s answer considering the impression they made on her didn’t seem to be a good one. But she surprised them.

“For a couple of hours? Thirty-five bucks.”

Even so, Dot thought that was still pricy given the condition of the inn. And the town.

“We’ll take it,” Dot briskly said. If the clerk had any questions about them, she didn’t ask. She rang up the order and gave them a single key as soon as Dot paid with the company expenses. Of course, they didn’t take a card but it was a good thing Dot carried cash on her, too.

Dot looked down at the key in her palm. It wasn’t a hotel keycard, but a bona fide brass key. She didn’t think anyone gave out room keys like this anymore. In an automated world, it was something of a shock.

“Rooms are up top.” She indicated with a jerk of her head and went back to her newspaper. It was a painless transaction for the most part.

The rest of the space that consisted of the inn was scattered with a sitting area with couches and chairs and coffee tables that surprisingly looked dry in the middle of a flooded room. Dot still wouldn’t sit in them and she wouldn’t allow Dodger or Armand to either. Beyond the seating area were a set of stairs and that was where they headed, heavy wet footsteps landing on the first solid floor they saw since arriving. The stairs turned into a hallway, lit by candlelight and veering off into many rooms behind closed doors.

The number of their room was numbered on their key.

13.

Dot held it up with a laugh, “Bad omen?”

Dodger breathed out through his nose. “This entire town is a bad omen.”

Dot laughed. “Preach, honey.”

Dot opened the door and though it didn’t make sense was glad to see that it wasn’t flooded. The interior was decorated as any regular motel; two beds, a dresser, bathroom, and a desk. There didn’t seem to be a television or a closet but that was alright. They weren’t going to be needing anything to entertain themselves and they didn’t expect to fully unpack. Dot wanted to do the job and get out. The day was still young and who knew where this was going to lead them? Hopefully not the entire day.

Just in case, she’d have to inquire about extended time if that’s what it took.

Dodger put down the suitcases, “I’ll make a quick run next door and grab the drink.”

Dot nodded, “Alright. It doesn’t take all three of us to do that job. We’ll meet you at ol’ Mr. Drunky-McDrunkface.”

“I thought his name was Fitzsimmons.” Armand inquired with sincerity.

Dot placed a hand on his cheek. “Oh honey.”

“First-Mate Fitzsimmons,” Dodger corrected before he ducked out the door.

Dot shook her head and started to haul their equipment briefcases onto the bed. Opening with a click, the sophisticated equipment looked impressive enough that Dot refrained from touching them. Much like DID, Dot was afraid of touching something and fear that it would break. Dodger worked on these items himself and so often handled them that she’d feel incredibly bad if it fell from her hands. Of course, he always insisted they were durable and tested one by dropping it to the ground.

It succeeded in making her laugh and instilling a bit more confidence in allowing her to handle some of the meters and cameras. There was no telling what they were going to need here, so she left everything as it was. She was just double-checking over the inventory despite knowing Dodger was thorough in everything he did.

Armand sat on the other side of the bed, bringing his leg up and exhibiting a wet boot. “What a strange sensation. It’s really uncomfortable.”

“I know but I’d advise not to change your shoes yet, love.” Dot said. “We still have to go back out and talk to Fitzsimmons unless you’d rather wait in the room for us.”

There was nothing to do and she didn’t want to stick Armand by himself even if she allowed him to play with her laptop. She thought she’d offer in any case. She was relieved when Armand shook his head.

“I want to stay close to you guys.” He smiled.

“And we want you close.” Dot smiled in return. “Now, come on. Let’s go see if Fitzsimmons remembered to stay still.”

Armand waited as Dot locked the door to the room and kept the key in a safe place on her persons. There didn’t seem to be anymore takers at the inn, so she felt everything would be relatively safe. Leading Armand through the waterlogged inn and outside once more, she was pleased to see that Fitzsimmons was still at the same place he had been before.

Dodger met up with them a few moments later, holding a silver flask in his hand. Without a word, he handed it to Fitzsimmons who unscrewed the thing in a hurry and seemed to gulp down whatever was in it. It was like watching a man who had been dying of thirst.

“Ah! That hits the spot!” he belched which earned him a grossed look from Dot and a startled jump from Armand. “Now I can continue on wi’ me tale.”

“Please do,” Dodger said without humor.

Bolstered, Fitzsimmons seemed like a new man as he recounted the tale that couldn’t have gone on without his dumbass drink. “As I were sayin’ before, I’m the sole survivor of the Ocean Spray. About a year ago, there wus a terrible upheaval in the waters that sunk us, wrecked off the coast of Whitecrest. Ah, so close to ‘ome, we were!” he took in a shuddering breath and continued, “The entire thing was disaster. But not too soon after, I be hearin’ things. It’s th’ wind, they say but nay! I know. I know them cries. For you see, among our goods for trade, we were burdened with a great treasure, a terrible treasure, and I suspect it’s the eerie powers that it yields that keeps the souls of me brethren trapped within’ the ships rottin’ remains.”

Now it was beginning to become clear why Stephen had been called. But at the same time, Dot wondered why the task wasn’t just passed onto the Agency if there were simple reports of a haunting. But then again, nothing was ever simple when it came to the Supernatural.

Fitzsimmons continued to moan, “I’m haunted by ‘em, day and night. M’best friend, Soggy, he calls for me.”

Dot had to clamp a hand over her mouth from laughing at the name Soggy. Was it in bad taste to make a joke about how ironic it was to be shipwrecked and have that name? Dot mentally waved the thought from her head and continued to make a straight face. The only indication that gave her thoughts away was the twitch in the corner of her lip. She met Dodger’s gaze and knew that he knew.

Fitzsimmons took them all by surprise as he grabbed Dot by the shoulders and started to shake her, “Please help me! Look for ‘im by the wreckage and… and… just tell ‘im to leave me alone!”

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Dot exclaimed, trying to pull herself away from Fitzsimmons grip. It surprised her that he was stronger than he looked. She could tell that Dodger and Armand were bristling, kicking into action the instant Fitzsimmons had moved; Dodger gave Fitzsimmons a harsh shove in his chest with just enough strength to take him by surprise but not overpower him. Armand pulled Dot away and pulled her behind him.

“We’ll do this for you,” Dot stated from around Armand. “just calm down. We’re aware of how scary hauntings can be, just calm down.”

Fitzsimmons seemed to be appeased by the agreement, a hand over his sternum which was no doubt bruised thanks to Dodger’s freakish show of strength. He nodded mutely, seemingly submissive now. That shove must have sobered him up some.

“Thank ye, lass.” Fitzsimmons said quietly. Dot didn’t feel bad for him but was pleased to see he had the sense to be grateful for their help. Stepping out from around Armand, she gestured towards the docks. “Is the wreckage that way?”

Fitzsimmons nodded, helping further by pointing out the direction. “Along the coast, ya can’t miss it. It’s run aground. Should be half on the land.”

“Well, that does simplify things.”

The trio break away from Fitzsimmons to head towards the dock. They were surprised to see that it was floating. It wasn’t very comforting to Dot in any case. “I don’t know how they can live here,” she said with a sense of wonder. She couldn’t wrap her head around what could be so great about this place.

“Maybe they just don’t have anywhere to go,” Dodger reasoned.

“That’s ridiculous. The world isn’t confined to this one space.”

“That’s true.”

Instead of chancing the trip along the dock, Dot deemed it safer to go by land. And she didn’t really want to fall into the ocean. In order to walk along the coast, they had to walk out of Whitecrest and circle around. Dot reasoned they should stay close to the border of town because the rest of the area was marshland and she did not want to be stuck out in it. But first, they needed some of their gear. If this was ghost hunting, they needed it.

Heading back to the inn, Dot and Dodger passed equipment back and forth at each other.

“We don’t want anything too heavy.” Dot said, “We just need something to classify the entities so that means the Glasses and meters so we can see if they’re even around.”

Dot gave Dodger a weary gaze as she took spare Glasses from his hand. He had said earlier he reverse engineered them and was able to develop his own AI from what he had learned. There was a reason she had been so adamant on not being a witness to what he was saying. It was rumored that Tony Stark from 616 developed a sophisticated system of his own and much like the entity the government was, fought to acquire said technology. Apparently it wasn’t the first time Stark Tech had been requisitioned. It was a messy battle with the introduction of the 6969 government which was the benefactor of the leftover Dovir technology on the planet. Everyone wanted a piece of Stark’s technology which had utilized Dovir tech in order to create new equipment that aided the production of an upgraded Iron suit. Since the Dovirs had left technology on both worlds, it was more like a custody battle which eventually met a truce in the end. Mr. Stark would develop a blueprint for the governments to use but rumor was that he input a “dumb” AI to replace his sophisticated one: A.R.T.I.I. and he wasn’t budging on releasing specs on upgrading them; he did his part and washed his hands of the rest.

So, the Agency was the first to acquire usage of these A.R.T.I.I. Glasses. Who knew where else they flew to, but Dot’s experience with them had been with the Agency. They were quite useful; an automated system that allowed one to verify whether the entity you were looking at were Human or Supernatural based on previously collected data. That was all they really did, otherwise.

Funnily enough, rumors say that A.R.T.I.I. stands for A Really Tacky Intelligence Inside.

Dot was just worried that if word got out that Dodger was able to upgrade the specs himself, he might be in serious trouble. It was unclear which kind, too. They might arrest him and force him into giving up his own secrets or worse, what if Tony Stark finds out? Dot was tempted to ask for certain about D.A.D. but Dodger had moved on, explaining the camcorder functions to Armand.

“Armand’s going to be our camera guy?” Dot asked with a grin. She was clipping a taser to her thigh. The Agency’s lower level entry Agents didn’t use guns and she implemented the feature feeling guns were too much for her to use. If anything, she’s always felt more at home with a stun baton in her hands. If she needed anything for range, she had her taser gun and that was as close as she was getting. Besides, bullets didn’t harm ghosts. And she didn’t like shooting Supernaturals anyway; tasers did just as much damage overloading ghost energy or stopping a Bigfoot in its tracks based on the voltage. She often found she didn’t have to use these items, though. But Dodger insisted on taking them especially for her safety.

“I had entertained the idea,” Dodger admitted. “I’m giving him the easier ones. I’ll keep the Go Pro for myself.”

“Ah, of course.” Dot laughed. “I don’t even use the Go Pro.”

“You could. I could teach you, too.”

“I’m fine sharing the one Armand’s going to use,” Dot winked. Armand smiled and Dodger shook his head, his own good-natured smile beginning to take form before he got into serious mode. He patiently explained to Armand about the features of the camcorder he was entrusting in his hands. Armand was a fast learner and before Dot realized it, they were ready to hit the shore.

Leaving the inn behind, Dot lead the group to their planned trek out near the town’s border, walking along it and careful not to step into anything that could impede their progress.

Soon, their boots began to hit some solid ground more frequently than wading around in straight water. The coast was in their sight and the horizon of the ocean greeted them, sun shining brightly overhead. Dot had forgotten it was midday. It was like a new world out here. Dot continued to lead the group in silence, everyone concentrating on their footsteps and making sure they didn’t trip over any exposed roots or fallen logs and rocks.

Armand surprised them by breaking the silence with asking, “Do you think it was important that Doctor Strange solve this case?”

Dot and Dodger looked at each other as he was helping her over a large log. Dot had the thought before but now that Armand had said it, it was a good opportunity to reflect on it as a team.

“I’ve had the same thought,” Dodger admitted.

“Me, too.” Dot chirped in. “It’s a case the Agency could solve, no problem, so I wonder why the Agency didn’t get the call but Stephen did.”

“There has to be more beneath the surface,” Dodger said with certainty.

“Perhaps,” Dot said with a thoughtful tone. All it did was tell them to keep their guard up and as the saying goes, nothing is what it seems. Dot caught the sight of a mast poking out the mess of trees that blended in along the coast. “I think I see it.” she announced.

Surely enough, the Ocean Spray was drudged up on the coast. The mast Dot had seen had once held beautiful sails but they looked as ratty as ancient curtains, eating by very large moths. A shadow of its former self, it seemed cast in a constant state of shade. It lent the affect that the place was as dreary as it looked in solitude against a lively vibrant ocean. Waves were brushing up against its faded and forgotten wood, barnacles attached underneath occasionally peeked into view with the receding waters. Stepping closer to the wreckage filled one with a heavy air of apprehension. It looked older than a year old wreck which set off red flags in Dot’s mind. She was about to comment on it when Armand pointed out towards the horizon.

“There are more ships out there,” he said.

Dot and Dodger followed his gaze. The ocean was calm, its waves the only disturbance against the shoreline even as the scenery of several masts peering out of the water marked them like grave markers. Dot had no doubt underneath the waves rested an ominous ship graveyard.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this place,” Dot couldn’t help but utter. “It’s cold. Feels detached.”

Dot was talking about the emotion behind the wreckage. She could feel that there was a heavy air attached but it was hard to explain. Armand must have thought she meant she was physically cold because he took off his jacket and wrapped it around Dot’s shoulders.

“Oh, no, honey.” Dot laughed, shrugging out of it and wrapping it around his again. Looking at his bare arms really did make her look cold and she worried about it even though she knew logically, he couldn’t feel cold. “I meant, the feeling of the place. It’s a sad place. Definitely haunted like Fitzsimmons said.”

Armand frowned, his delicate brows coming together to complete the expression. His hands came up looking for something to do and landing on the collar of Dot’s jacket. He pulled them together as he asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

“They’re not strong emotions,” Dot smiled, touched at Armand’s worrying. Dodger stepped closer, nudging her to get her attention. She looked up, seeing he had his gaze on the ship.

“We might want to search it before it gets too dark.” He said, hinting at a great fear. Dot’s eyes widened in realization and she nodded with newfound resolve.

“Absolutely.”

The best thing to do was to search where they could on the dry land. Dot didn’t even think about going below the surface. The Ocean Spray was laying half on its side which made the top deck pretty accessible and that was where Dot wanted to search.

“We’re supposed to find somebody named Soppy?” Dodger asked.

Dot laughed, “Soggy.” She corrected.

The trio stopped in their tracks as soon as the air changed. It was Dot who turned around and saw that there was a figure standing behind them, further inland. She cleared her throat and Dodger and Armand’s gazes followed.

“I think we found him.”

 “Okay, Armand, record everything from this point forward.” Dodger instructed as they started to walk towards the lone man near the tree line.

Soggy was clearly an apparition. The A.R.T.I.I. system picked up on that much. Not to mention, he was see-through. Faced with ghosts nearly every day for their job, it never got easier seeing one. It was especially jarring when they showed up out of nowhere. Armand was the only exception and even then, he couldn’t really convey what a Ghost was and why they did what they did. Even now as he was recording, Armand didn’t put off the normal appearance of a Ghost.

As they reached him, they could see he looked as weathered and old as Fitzsimmons; he had a long beard and mustache and a wool cap that fit over his head. His straggly hair was grayed and fell over his shoulders like stringy shoelaces. He had the appearance of someone who had lived their entire life on the sea. A rightful ol’ salt dog if Dot had ever saw one. Other than his ghostlike appearance, he didn’t seem threatening. As soon as he was ready, he started to speak.

His voice sounded like he was trapped underwater. But it wasn’t too hard to understand him. If they needed help, A.R.T.I.I. or D.A.D., Dot wasn’t sure at this point, had real-time subtitles scrolling along to guide them.

“Fitzsimmons must have sent ye, hah?”

Dot looked between Dodger and Armand before nodding at the apparition. So, there was some stock to what ol’ Fitzsimmons was saying.

“He told us he’s been hearing the wails of the deceased. Your wails.”

“He should.” Soggy said, thoughtful. Or as much as he could underwater. “The sailors of the Ocean Spray are damned. Damned and cursed to wander the shores in agony.” He sounded irritated, upset. Dot and Dodger exchanged a heavy glance at a certain word but before they can ask him to elaborate, he continued. “Fitzsimmons and his anguish are one in the same as ours. We be tied together; as long as we suffer, ‘ee suffers wi’ us. There canna be no rest for ‘im, not before ye end the sufferin’ of my crewmates.”

Dot swallowed thickly, not liking where this was heading. “…How can we do that?”

Soggy doesn’t answer but instead, disappeared. It left Dot in a stupor before she got irritated herself. “Why do they do that?”

“Because they live a hard life and want to make our lives hard, too?” Dodger suggested. The annoyance was in his tone and Dot laughed at that. “We have no idea how to end the suffering of his crewmates. But I’m not put off to a good purge.” Dodger continued. “Also, Armand, did you happen to get all that?”

Dot shook her head but Armand nodded. Then he asked, “Will the spirits be upset with us?”

“I don’t know how anyone can ever be upset with you,” Dot sighed but answered more seriously. “They’re not upset with us but just upset. They’ve been anchored to this realm for a long time, they’re—” Dot’s eyes widened. “Cursed.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Dodger sighed, then added, “And it suddenly becomes clear why Stephen Strange was enlisted.”

“That’s…” Dot was at a loss for words. “Not even the Agency messes with Cursed items. I thought there was a special department for that.”

“There was a rumored special department for that.”

Dot worried on her bottom lip, looking lost. Dodger had pretty much taken the same expression, looking pensive and dark. Armand was the only one who didn’t understand.

“What’s wrong?”

Looking up, Dot explained, “Curses are bad news. They’re powerful because it can come to harm anyone indiscriminately. They can be triggered by anything, cast by anyone, and can be absolutely devastating. Curses are classified as unknown power with an even bigger unknown power set and aren’t dealt with in the Agency because they weren’t equipped to handle them. They didn’t even have a place to put Curses even if they could because then, the Curse would be attached to that area. I don’t know if the Agency did have a department that handled Curses but I know they didn’t handle them at all in the main office. If they popped up, they were never heard from again. I thought they got thrown out, something like, tough ass shit. We can’t do anything about it. And that was that. But apparently, I guess they were handed to Stephen or perhaps other Supers that had more knowledge and a way to deal with the Occult than we did.”

“You have to remember that the Agency is a fairly new organization and so is the fragile peace between the Humans and Supernaturals,” Dodger added. Then he sounded thoughtful, “It makes sense, though. A Sorcerer would be equipped to handle Curses especially if he had somewhere to put the items or a way to break them.”

“Are Curses items?” Armand asked.

“Usually. They need the items to be wished upon. Sort of like how Poltergeists need anchors like items or people to draw their power from. How Ghosts are attached to a place or item or a person to exist—basically, I’d say half of Supernatural aspects all revolve around objects. But a more powerful entity or Curse do not need items. That’s how you know shit is fucked. It’s nearly impossible to get rid of them unless you can purge the entity itself—but Curses are different. They aren’t entities. They’re wishes and you can’t purge something without a form.”

“The area becomes a Black Site. Nothing’s able to grow on the land and misfortune follows its inhabitants.” Dodger interjected, turning to Armand to further explain. “It could cause people to commit suicide, hear voices to drive them to do heinous things, or anything else to carry out its will.”

“Curses sound like serious business,” Armand stated, looking out towards the shipwreck. “If these sailors are Cursed, how do you expect to help them?”

Dot took in a deep breath. How indeed? She knew she promised Stephen that they’d accomplish what the Agency couldn’t do. Curses are a big deal but she didn’t want to go back on her word. She couldn’t imagine seeing the disappointed look on Stephen’s face when they have to report that they’ve failed.

She made up her mind.

“First, we’re going to have to find that item.”

Her resolve caused both Armand and Dodger to look at her; Armand even lowered the camera a little, peering out of the side. They were searching her expression. By now, they knew the dangers of Curses as well as Dot knew them herself. But she figured if they were careful, didn’t act like fools, they could come out of this thing on top.

“Alright, I’m in.” Dodger said, earning a grateful look from Dot.

Armand was also nodding along, looking as always, willing to help. He even lifted the camcorder higher as to emphasize his point. “Me, too!” He said, “I’m a Ghost, so I don’t think it should be hard for me to get out of sticky situations.” He paused and looked at Dodger, “Did I use that right?”

“Yes. You’re learning.”

“Ghost or not, we don’t want to put you in any danger, either.” Dot argued. “Just because you can go through objects doesn’t mean you’re entirely invincible. We still don’t know what can and cannot hurt you. This Curse might be even more dangerous to you because you’re …” Dot trailed off, not wanting to bluntly say Armand was dead. He seemed to understand though.

“Then I’ll be careful,” he said with a warm smile on his face.

The group now had the spooky task of searching the wreckage with the fact of ghosts looming over their heads. Dot didn’t want to think about it as Dodger pulled her up after climbing up to the top of the deck. He lifted her with ease and it never failed to surprise Dot when he did; where did he get his freakishly strong strength from? Armand was next and when the three of them took the time to realize where they were, it was time to put their serious faces on.

Dot looked out towards the horizon, the sun still shining brightly overhead. Dodger followed her gaze then met her eyes. “It’s still hours before dusk. We’ll be long gone before then.”

Dot half-smiled, grateful for the reassurance.

“You can stay above while I check further down if it makes you feel better.”

Dot shook her head, “I’m okay. As long as we’re not going in the water, I’ll be fine.”

Armand looked over, wondering what they were talking about. Dot explained.

“I have a fear of dark water. Like I said before, as long as my head is above or I can see the ground in a body of water, I’ll be fine.” Armand nodded, giving her a sympathetic expression.

“I’ll be with you.”

Dot smiled. “Thanks.”

True to Armand’s word, he stayed with her. Dodger took the lower quarters while Dot stayed one floor below the top deck. There were plenty of places to look around on top and Armand stayed by her side throughout the search while making sure to film for their records. The sentiment was doubly sweet as she soon discovered that the sailors were finally making their appearance. Since the only light provided was the sun and the ship barely had any windows or cracks for sunlight to filter through, Dot had to rely on the sweeping beam of her flashlight to help her search. She’s been in spooky and dark rooms before but something about a ghost ship filled her with dread. She wasn’t sure whether it was the knowledge of the Cursed item hanging over her head or expecting something to jump out at her which startled her more.

She and Armand were searching a room that looked like it had once held a navigator’s effects. The space wasn’t as cramped as the other rooms, providing a huge oval table in the middle with a tattered map on top. The furniture was old and dusty but that rang the same for the rest of the room, too. Cobwebs strung from various places like Halloween decorations and she decided the scenery wasn’t much different from a haunted house. The only sounds coming from the room were her own breathing and Armand softly shifting paper around on desks. There was plenty of paper in this room, too.

What first got her was when a stack of sheets fell, the familiar sound of a dozen or so sheets falling one after another slowly at first and then outward, like a fan. She jumped, turning around and meant to shine the light on the source but ended up face to face with an apparition that apparently had been standing behind her the entire time. She couldn’t help it, she squealed and swung her flashlight outwards in an arc that sent the apparition dispersing like smoke.

Armand was at her side in seconds, looking around, “What was that?”

“One of the sailors,” she wheezed, trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heartbeat. Her Glasses were giving her warnings about the activity level in the room. She slid them up to rest on the top of her head. “God, I hate when they do that!”

From then on, it was always out of the corner of her eye because she had learned not to turn around as fast as she had previously. If they weren’t moving objects in a shockingly short jerk or slamming doors from other rooms, they were whispering at her neck and touching her on the leg, on the shoulder, tugging her hair. It was aggravating but never failed to make her jump a little. She was never prepared for the touching. Eventually, Armand was standing at her back and they seemed to stop.

By then, she realized they had searched everything they could below deck. “Hopefully Dodger is having better luck,” she said, leading to the way to the staircase Dodger had taken below. It was darker down here and she was hesitant on going down. How the fuck was Dodger doing this by himself?

“Not quite,” he said as he emerged from underneath. Dot blinked in surprise as Dodger gestured for her to follow him. With apprehension, she and Armand went further below.

Much like above, there were plenty of rooms that was meant to serve as a trading vessel for a full crew. The galley was down here as was the Captain’s quarters and where the sailors slept. When their feet starting sloshing in water, Dot paused.

“Wh-where are you taking us, Dodge?”

“Don’t worry,” he said. Dot was about to remark about how that wasn’t an answer when she noticed he had stopped leading them and was now staring down at the ground. When she followed his gaze, her chest tightened. There was a little square opening that quite obviously had a ladder going down. It was where the water was coming from. There was another level and it was completely submerged.

“I’m willing to bet it leads to the hull and it was probably where they placed the goods.” Dodger explained. But Dot couldn’t tear her gaze away from the murky depths of the sea below. It was almost black and when she shined her light on it, she could have sworn she saw an eye dart away.

“You are NOT going down there,” Dot protested immediately.

Dodger was already taking off his jacket and boots and handing Armand his Glasses. As he was rolling up his sleeves, he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t be more than five minutes. I can hold my breath for fifteen. I won’t drown.”

“That wasn’t what I was worried about! Didn’t you see that eye!?”

Dodger shined his light on the hole and the trio stood in silence. “I don’t see anything.”

“It was there!”

“Are you sure you didn’t hallucinate it? Your fear of dark water, mingled in with the ghosts of the sailors—”

“I did not imagine it!”

Dodger stared at Dot, weighing her answer. She was emotional, yes, but she was also worried about his safety. The look on her face couldn’t lie to him and he had never known her to. “I believe you,” he said. Dot was relieved. “But I have to check.”

“Dodge—no—!”

Dodger had sat on the edge of the opening and slipped in like he was swallowed by the sea. She could see the beam of his flashlight sweep across from in the little opening before his head broke the water and he quite simply said, “I don’t see anything down here. I’ll be back.”

She couldn’t fight with him if he couldn’t hear her as his head went back under. Dot sighed heavily, like an upset mother, ranting to Armand about how he never listened to her. “He thinks he’s so brave! …I mean, he is but being brave doesn’t mean he’s not being stupid!”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Armand tried to reassure her, “If it makes you feel any better, I can go down there with him.”

Dot gripped Armand’s arm, “No! Him going down there is bad enough. You stay here where I know you’re safe.”

And she sat there, gripping Armand’s arm. When five minutes past, she began to panic.

“He said five minutes. He said five minutes, right?”

“Yes,” Armand agreed, patting Dot’s hand. “do you want me—”

“If you say go down there, I’m going to spank you.”

Armand’s eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut.

Six minutes. Dot knew because she was counting.

Seven.

Eight.

She was contemplating on going herself. Dot broke away from Armand and started to take off her own jacket and propped herself against the wall to start taking off her boots, “I’m going in!”

As soon as she popped her boot off, Dodger emerged. He took a deep gasp for breath, shaking his curls free of excess water and brought his arm up to support himself. “I found it.”

“I hope you’ve found Jesus down there, too,” Dot snapped. “That was nearly ten minutes! What happened to ‘Oh, it’ll just be five minutes, Dot!’ It wasn’t five minutes!”

Dodger looked surprised, “It wasn’t five minutes?” Before Dot could reply, he lugged up with some effort what looked like a medium sized lockbox onto the wooden flooring. Water sloshed off the intricately carved top and rolled down the sides and it shut Dot up. The object was no doubt Cursed. She could immediately feel it.

“It must have been this,” Dodger continued. “I could have sworn I set my timer to go off in five—” Just then, his wrist watch started to beep. “—minutes. See, I must have been stuck in some time-altered space.”

“Good work, Dodge…” Dot murmured. Just being in its presence was uncomfortable never mind what Dodger had been insinuating.

Armand said it in words. “There’s a really unsettling feeling about that thing. It’s really dangerous.”

“I tried to open it but it won’t open. I figured it was safer in the lockbox anyway.”

“Why the fuck would you try to open it?”

Dodger paused. “Hm... you’re right. That wasn’t a really good idea. I wonder if it clouded my judgement, too.”

“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” Dot sighed. She helped Dodger up and they both took the time to put their clothes back on. Dodger had asked why she had taken her things off but she just gave him a pinch on the cheek. He still had a look of confusion on his face when Dot told him to grab the lockbox and haul ass out of there.

By the time the trio made it back on the shore, the sun was sinking lower. Dot’s eyes widened in realization. “Just how long were we down there?”

“It couldn’t have been for more than an hour,” Dodger said, looking down at his watch. “right?”

Dot didn’t want to admit it but she cast a glance at the box and knew she’d be glad when Stephen came to take it off their hands. If this thing had the ability to mess with their sense of time, who knew what else it could do. Well, besides curse sailors to a horrible afterlife haunting the ship they died in.

“Let’s see if ol’ Soggy is around.”

It sounded like a good suggestion at the time but try as they might, there was just no sign of him. Dot rubbed her head, feeling stumped. “Well, maybe taking this thing out of the ship brought peace to him and the sailors. Let’s see if Fitzsimmons feels any different.”

Armand was turned around, looking back towards the ship catching the two’s attention. The camcorder off and forgotten in his hand.

“What is it, love?”

“I don’t know. It just feels different.”

Dot took a moment to follow Armand’s gaze and understood. The aura surrounding the ship felt lighter. She gave Armand a warm smile, rubbing his back. “Come on, let’s get someplace warm, soon.”

Once more, they made the trek following the town’s border back into the town square. It was unfortunate the town was still submerged. Since Dodger was walking around soaked, supposing it made no difference to him.

“I’m hella surprised Fitzsimmons wasn’t in the place we left him,” Dot said once they got to where they last seen him. His spot was empty, just a lonely looking sandbag wall and no remnants that he had been there before. “but he’d be crazy to stay out here with the sun sinking as fast as it is.”

It was amazing to them how fast night was approaching. Dot was just glad to be out of the vicinity of the ship at this point. She then suggested the tavern, “He might have been allowed to go back in. Let’s see if he’s there and if not, maybe he’s in one of these rowboats.” She joked.

“That, I would not doubt.” Dodger agreed.

The tavern looked to be busy for as busy as it could get with a population of twenty. It was just surprising to Dot that there was a nighttime crowd even in a place like Whitecrest. She had no idea what Dodger experienced but by his expression, he wasn’t surprised. Or impressed.

She went to the first person she saw who happened to be a barkeep and asked, “Do you happen to know if Fitzsimmons is around here somewhere?”

“Fitzsimmons?” The barkeep scrunched his nose, taking on the appearance of a piglet. He looked thoughtful through his confusion as if trying to recall everyone he’s ever met in his life. “There ain’t nobody ‘round ‘ere a-named Fitzsimmons.”

Dot had that same feeling of dread in her stomach and all those little red flags started to appear again. She just knew something weren’t right. But she had to ask. “Are you sure? I mean, he was pretty drunk when we saw him. Must mean he comes in here all the time. Even said he was kicked out—”

“No, ma’am. Ain’t no Fitzsimmons ‘round ‘ere.”

There was something in the barkeep’s tone that convinced Dot that he had been sure. She exchanged glances between Dodger and Armand who looked just as stumped as she did. Dot gestured with her head that they should leave.

On their way out, they were stopped by a man seated near the exit.

“Did ye say Fitzsimmons?”

His gravelly voice caught their attention if not the name. Dot wanted to feel relief but something was telling her not to relax yet. The group quietly sat down at the table, Dodger turning on his Go Pro, determined to catch whatever information they might need to review. But Dot wasn’t focusing on that right now. She was focused on yet another old man.

“That’s right,” she said. “do you know him?”

“I’m a relative.”

Dot’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, great. Okay, well can you tell him—”

“A relative of the man of a man of a man of a man who married his daughter.”

“…Of course.”

“Legend ‘round these parts speak of ol’ Fitzsimmons who died a long, long time ago. He might ‘ave been a townee at one point, but ya gotta check the registry to see for certain. Considerin’ not a lotta people live ‘round here no mo’, the registry gotta be, say, a hunnred years ol’.”

“That’s… fantastic,” Dot sighed, sinking lower in her seat. “Well, can you tell us the rest of this legend?”

The man nodded, “Course. Around the time of the Great War, Whitecrest was a burstlin’ harbor. It didn’t look anythin’ like it does today. It was more advanced, for one. It weren’t flooded. But one thing remains the same, we relied on trade the same way we do today. S’what gives this town its prosperous roots. Well, the Dovirs changed that. Much liken they changed most parts. With the Glassing attempt, the seas changed. The day it happened, the seas were the worst they ‘ave ever been and ain’t nothin’ been like it since. Unfortunately, lots of our ships ne’er came back that day. The closest anyone e’er seen was the wreck off the coast, the Ocean Spray.”

There was a moment of silence before the man said quietly, “I wouldn’t suggest goin’ out there. Especially this late at night. Place is real spooky-haunted.”

There was irony in that statement but unfortunately none of them were energized enough to appreciate it. But apparently he wasn’t done there.

“E’ery so often, people like yourself come ‘round and claim they on an errand or whatnot for Fitzsimmons. Somethin’ about wails and cur-sed objects—" he paused, looking over at Dodger as the Cursed lockbox sat on his lap and he seemed to finally take in the soggy appearance. There was another beat of silence before he finally said, “But that’s jes’ a legend, right?”

No one said anything else. Dot stood up and Dodger and Armand followed. They quietly made their way to the inn. Dodger announced he was going to take a shower and no one blamed him. Dot was next but Armand simply changed out of his clothes and laid on the bed next to Dot.

“Do you think this case was a success?” he innocently asked.

Dot tilted her head back, trying to get a better look at him. It was so sweet of him to ask. She was confused and honestly, terrified of what they went through, but she nodded. “I think so. We retrieved an item that was obviously dangerous. Fitzsimmons and Soggy and this weird town, I’m sure we put a lot of their worries to rest. Some might not even realize it.”

Armand looked happy enough with Dot’s answer, content with everything in his little ghost world. They remained in silence for a while, Dot idly playing with Armand’s hair when Dodger returned. He looked renewed and Dot decided she wanted to wash away the day’s endeavors with a hot shower herself.

“Alright, my turn.” She grinned, grabbing her spare clothes.

“Towels are in there,” Dodger commented as she passed and she gave him a peck on the cheek. The door shut and Dodger started to put away the gear. Armand watched in silence before he asked, “Do you think I’m different from these Ghosts? I know it’s been explained that there are all types of Ghosts but Fitzsimmons and Soggy seemed different from the Ghosts in the ship.”

“You are an entire class of your own, Armand.” Dodger said. It might have sounded like an insult but he meant that with all the compliment he could muster. And Armand certainly took it that way. He smiled.

“I think it’s amazing such a little town like this has such a big legend. What do you think? Do you think we caught all the good stuff with the camera? We certainly have proof we spoke to Soggy but… Fitzsimmons is going to be a little harder to prove, huh? It would certainly help Doctor Strange have a better understanding of our story.”

Dodger looked thoughtful before he picked up the camcorder that Armand had been using the entire day. He hooked it up to his laptop and pretty soon, the entire video was playing on the bigger screen. Armand moved closer to also take a look.

It was obvious Dodger had taught Armand proper. As soon as the camera turned on, Armand’s face was in the screen and he was obviously fumbling with it was Dodger could be heard in the background.

“Okay, Armand, record everything from this point forward.”

Then it cut to black. Armand looked shocked.

“I could have sworn I recorded everything.”

Dodger remained silent, watching the black screen before it flickered to life again. They were walking towards the ship. Scenes jumped from when they were being pulled up to searching around in the cabins. Dot’s jump scares were on camera but other than the trio looking shocked or otherwise frightened, there was nothing to show for it.

Dodger made a noise of disapproval and Armand looked guilty thinking it might have been his fault. “Don’t worry,” Dodger reassured. “this might be a common occurrence if a Curse is involved.” He pulled his camera over and repeated the same process of setting it up on his laptop to watch.

It pretty much recorded the same thing and Armand knew that Dodger wouldn’t have made mistakes. It made him feel a lot better knowing the error wasn’t on his end.

“See,” Dodger stated. “It’s alright. If I had to guess, I assume the Cursed objects prevents being catalogued this way. This is interesting. I’ll have to develop a system that’d allow for its capture.” He started mumbling off things to himself Armand couldn’t even fathom and he had no desire to ask.

Instead, he mused aloud, “Whatever happened is in our memories and experiences now. We’ll have to recite everything to the Doctor.”

“Let’s hope he believes us,” Dodger mused. He had taken out a legal pad and began to write down everything he remembered as it happened. Since the memory was so fresh, he had no problem writing down his accounts and then asking about Armand’s and Dot’s since they were separated.

“We’ll present this as a present to Dot,” Dodger suggested. “she hates the paperwork.”

Armand wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not but coming from Dodger, it might as well have been a serious suggestion.

[nic-and-annie-in-france]

Paris Vignettes

I found it pretty hard to write about our time in Paris because the city is so present in the American collective imagination. Paris means romance and sophistication. Everyone already knows about the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Louvre. What can I say about the place that hasn’t already been said? Not much, which is why I’ve chosen to write more about the little moments than the big monuments. These are the small things that happened on our Paris trip that will likely never be advertised in a travel brochure.

We left home on a sunny Saturday afternoon. As we rode the bus through the town to the train station, I realized it had been ages since I had seen the town in full sunlight like this. I couldn’t stop staring out the window. Even though our town is not what I’d call picturesque, it looked so beautiful with people walking around outside and every factory and apartment building illuminated.

We waited on a bench about an hour at the station for the train to arrive. To pass the time, I eavesdropped on the family seated near us, and learned that they were from the Paris area and were returning home from a ski vacation. The little girl in the family, maybe three or four years old, had left her sunglasses in their driver’s car, and the mom was calling the driver to ask about the sunglasses. After she hung up, she told the little girl that they wouldn’t be able to get her sunglasses back before the train arrived, so they would have to go back home without them. The mom’s work acquaintance, however, was coming to this area in the following week, so she told her that the coworker could probably bring the sunglasses back with her next week. The little girl sounded disappointed. “But I don’t want to go home without my sunglasses…could we call the police and get them to bring my sunglasses?” By the time we boarded the train, I was highly invested in this little girl and the fate of her sunglasses, but since it was all happening in French, Nicolas was unaware of the drama. As soon as we were on the train and out of earshot, I told him the whole story. We laughed. We cried. We hoped that one day she and her sunglasses would be reunited.

We checked into our hostel in Paris after dark. Our room was several flights of stairs above the ground floor, so after we huffed and puffed our way there, we set our things down and checked out the view. There were some trees in a courtyard nearby that partially obscured our view, but the skyline literally glittered with thousands of tiny lights almost too far away to see. I could tell that the Eiffel Tower wasn’t in our line of sight, but I was eager to look again in the morning and see what else was visible in the daytime. It’s certainly easier to navigate in the daylight, but it’s a lot of fun to see a city for the first time in the dark and then discover it all over again the next morning.

We went to both the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, Paris’ two most popular art museums. In terms of time period, the Musée d’Orsay picks up where the Louvre leaves off—the Louvre has art from Antiquity until the 19th century, and the Orsay covers about 60 years of art after that, including most people’s favorite Impressionists. So in terms of collections, comparing the two museums is like comparing apples and oranges. However, I really enjoyed comparing our experiences of the two museums and how the space in each building is used. -- The Louvre is a royal palace that has been repurposed to become a heavily trafficked public building and tourist destination. The oldest part of the building dates from the medieval period, and has been changed and added onto ever since; the iconic glass pyramids in the front are only 30 years old. In terms of the floor plan, it’s pretty typical for a European palace. There are two main wings where you basically travel down a straight line of progressively smaller rooms. As an art museum—and as the world’s most popular art museum—it’s kind of a nightmare.  We couldn’t find a single staircase that let us access all five floors. Several times we wanted to leave the right wing and go to the left one, or vice versa. And after studying the map, making a game plan, carrying out the plan, and checking the map again, we realized with frustration and horror that we had never left the first wing at all. After an exhausting day of wandering around through crowds of people, we were lucky to finally find the exit. Don’t get me wrong, it was really cool to see the Mona Lisa and tons of other masterpieces. It was just interesting to see how the choice of layout for the museum had very real physical and emotional implications for us and our trip. -- The Orsay, mercifully, is not an old palace—it’s an old train station. The main entrance area is therefore a giant open room with a rounded glass ceiling and a huge clock. Most of the paintings are held in rooms branching off from this central area, so it’s very easy to orient oneself and to travel to the rooms you want to see most. And this is what one would expect from a train station, where it is important for large crowds of people to be able to get from A to B without much trouble. Our day spent in the Musée d’Orsay was overall much more pleasant and comfortable than our day in the Louvre, not because we liked the art so much better (even though we did) but because the building was better suited to tourists and art.

On one cloudy morning, the first item on the itinerary was walking around the neighborhoods on the banks and islands of the Seine. We wandered down whatever streets looked most interesting. We went to the small park on the point of one of the islands and snapped a few pictures. Later that day in the Musée d’Orsay, we saw a Pissarro painting of the almost exact same view we saw from the point of the island.

We were supposed to only spend a morning in the Musée d’Orsay, but we enjoyed it so much that we ignored our grumbling stomachs and stayed until 4pm. As I think I’ve mentioned before, the French are pretty particular about mealtimes, and lots of restaurants close between 3pm and 7pm. Paris has enough demand from tourists at odd hours that we could have easily found a restaurant open between those hours, but we were just too embarrassed to violate the culture so flagrantly. Instead, we went to a grocery store and bought some pre-made sandwiches, a box of crackers, and two yogurts.  We brought our food to the Tuileries garden and ate in a secluded corner, enjoying the unusually pleasant weather, pointing out cute dogs to each other, and daydreaming about what our lives might be like if we lived in Paris.

Europe has a lot of religious art, and we both paid attention in Bible study, so we’ve gotten pretty good at identifying our saints and Bible stories in the paintings and sculptures we see. For example, in a painting of the disciples, Peter is always going to be the one who is balding in a horseshoe pattern, with one tuft of gray hair in the middle of his forehead. John is always going to be the youthful-looking one with no beard and longish auburn hair. In Paris, we decided to make a game of looking at an artwork and guessing the Bible/Church history scene before we looked at the title. It was our own little trivia competition each time we toured an art museum or cathedral. My personal favorite story to spot is Saint Anthony of Padua preaching to the fish, and one of my favorite artworks is this stained-glass representation of the book of Revelation.

One afternoon we headed to the outskirts of the city in order to go to the Musée Marmottan Monet. On our walk to the museum, we passed a horse trailer parked on the side of the road. My Kentucky brain didn’t register that that this was an odd thing to see in Paris, but Nicolas excitedly said, “Chevaux!” when he recognized the word written across the trailer. We rounded a corner, and then we found the chevaux: they were hitched to old-timey carriages parked in the middle of the street, surrounded by people in 19th century period costume. We were told by the man working security at the corner of the street that a TV series was filming there that day. We had to wait for permission to hurry into the museum between takes. 

We went to the Eiffel Tower around sunset so that we could see in the daylight and lit up at night. We took a few pictures, then just spent some time looking at it quietly and trying to absorb the moment. A street musician from the US was performing nearby—we were there long enough to hear, of all things, “Santeria” by Sublime and “Wagon Wheel” by Old Crow Medicine Show. Those were probably the last two songs I’d want to hear while trying to appreciate the Eiffel Tower, but in spite of this, and in spite of the selfie sticks and souvenir hawkers, it really was as cool—moving, inspiring, romantic—as people make it out to be.

[180abroad]

Days 62-63: Bayeux

Today we headed from Paris to the Normandy town of Bayeux--home of the historic Bayeux Tapestry and one of the closest towns to the D-Day beaches. Our train out of Paris left after noon, so we got to sleep in, enjoy breakfast, and pack up at our leisure.

Getting out of Paris was fairly easy--except that we got onto the wrong train car. By the time we realized that we were supposed to be eight cars down (which of course happened after we had been congratulating ourselves on getting pretty good at this), there were only a few minutes left before the train was scheduled to depart. We should have had plenty of time to get out of the train, walk down the platform, and get onto the right car. But we didn’t want to risk it.

So we got up and made the long walk. And instead of spending thirty seconds running down the platform, we spent ten minutes squeezing our way down the train--waiting for traffic jams to clear and rubbing against the shoulders of rightfully annoyed passengers who’d managed to find their seats in a reasonable timeframe--to our correct seats. Which were occupied.

This isn’t usually a big deal. Not all tickets in France have seat reservations, and it’s not always clear if a seat is reserved or not. And even if it is reserved, when the train takes off and the person isn’t there, someone is bound to go for it. That said, the two guys we displaced weren’t thrilled about having to find other seats at literally the last minute.

Of course, just because we got our seats didn’t mean that there was any room left in the luggage area--it didn’t help that one of the guys who had been in our seats decided to lay in the baggage rack instead--so Jessica had to hold her backpack between her legs for the duration of the ride.

It wasn’t too bad though. The train ride was only a couple hours long, and we were just happy to be in the right place.

It was raining when we arrived in Bayeux, but not too badly. It’s a small town, so it wasn’t far to walk, and it’s hard to get lost. It did take us a little while to find our apartment, though--we got turned around for a bit because the numbers on one side of the street went up while the numbers on the other side went down.

But I didn’t really mind it too much. In a small, silly way, studying the printed-out instructions while huddling from the rain under the shadow of a medieval Norman cathedral felt like an appropriate precursor to the D-Day tours we would be taking in a couple days.

Finally checked in, we ran to pick up some groceries for the next few days before the supermarket closed. We also picked up a bottle of local cider. Normandy is too cold and wet for grapes, but it is perfect for orchards, making cider--and apple brandy--the local beverage of choice. The cider we picked was extremely dry, but very tasty.

For Sunday, our main goal was just to figure out how we were getting out of town on Friday for our early morning ferry to England. The helpful TI staff confirmed that our best bet would be to get a train from Bayeux to Caen, then get a taxi (reserved in advance) to the ferry terminal, which is in the neighboring port town of Ouistreham.

They also gave us a list of taxi services in Caen. I say “list,” but it only had one actual taxi service on it. The one was enough, though--they replied almost immediately and confirmed our booking with a very reasonable quote.

That done, we walked the town and scouted out where we would be getting picked up the next day for our first tour. It turned out to be even easier than we expected. Like I said, Bayeux is a small town, and it’s hard to get lost--especially with signs on almost every corner pointing to all the important sites.

Following the signs marked “pickup,” “buses,” and “excursions,” we came across a loading area with a large sign listing all the different tour companies that pick up at that spot. Including ours.

That also taken care of, we started the historical sightseeing portion of our Bayeux stay.

Right outside our apartment building, next to the Cathedral, is a very large tree that our host noted as being “very historical.” It turns out that it’s a Liberty Tree, one of many that were planted across France in 1793 to celebrate the execution of King Louis XVI and the establishment of the First Republic. That makes this tree well over 200 years old.

Next, we saw some thousand-year-old linen. You might have heard of it as the Bayeux Tapestry. This tapestry (actually an embroidery) depicts the events leading up to the Battle of Hastings and the battle itself. One of the most critical events in all of medieval European history, the result of this battle would dramatically alter not only nature of England’s government but its culture, language, and relationship with the rest of Europe.

Long story short: England’s king dies without a blood heir. He wanted his French cousin to inherit the throne, but the king’s English brother-in-law took the throne instead. So the king’s cousin--William, Duke of Normandy--raises an army and takes the throne from the usurper by force.

Duke William becomes King William the Conqueror, cementing the previously insular England’s heavy involvement in Western European politics for the next thousand years--turning it from a country that would get invaded into one that did the invading. It also set the stage for centuries of turf wars between the kings of England and France over who got to keep William’s original territory of Normandy.

As a work of art, the Tapestry leaves a lot to be desired. It looks a bit like a comic strip drawn by a middle-schooler who’s never taken a real art class. Even the audioguide narrator seems to have an ironic tone while describing its impressive realism for the era. Not that it is necessarily a realistic depiction of the historical events. It is essentially a propaganda piece commissioned by one of William’s close allies to support the legitimacy of William’s rule after taking England by force.

Physically, the most impressive part of the Tapestry’s is its sheer length--nearly 70 yards.

But as easy as it is to make fun the Tapestry’s artistic shortcomings, you can’t help but get caught up in the action as the audioguide leads you into the climactic final scenes. I like to think of it as a medieval comic book or Game of Thrones episode. Graphics may have come a long way in the last thousand years, but the intrigues of politics and warfare never really change.

One recommendation, though, if you go to see the Tapestry for yourself:

The audioguide can’t be paused or rewound once you start it, so wait until you’re ready before starting. And if a big group enters at the same time as you do, wait until they move ahead a bit before hitting play. Otherwise you’ll find yourself jockeying with them for a good view the entire time, since they’ll be stuck on the same track as you..

After viewing the Tapestry, you can visit a cool little museum about the Norman invaders and what they did after the Battle of Hastings. The displays include models of two of William’s most impressive post-Hastings building projects--the White Tower in London and Winchester Cathedral.

Getting hungry, we left the museum in search of a late lunch. It was then we learned just how hard it can be to find food in a small French town outside of normal mealtimes. Restaurants stay open to serve coffee, but all the kitchens close after 1:30 or 2:00 pm.

We eventually found a place that was still offering sandwiches. I had a ham and cheese panini--served in a baguette, of course--and Jessica ordered a delicious egg-topped sandwich including Andouille sausage, Camembert cheese, and apple slices.

Before heading home, we stopped into a couple gift shops that were still open on a Sunday late afternoon. I bought a small sample bottle of Calvados (Norman apple brandy), as well as a small bottle of Pommeau--Calvados that has been diluted to wine strength with apple juice. We also stopped at a bakery and bought small samples of opera cake and Paris-Brest--two items that Jessica had been wanting to have me try since we arrived in France.

Both pastries were delicious. We also opened a bottle of pear cider, which was fantastic--we both much preferred it over yesterday’s apple cider, as good as that one was.

We heard back from the taxi company confirming our booking for Friday, then we bought our train tickets and went over to the station to print them out. Yes, we could have printed them out any time between now and Friday morning, but we both felt more comfortable with the tickets in hand and accounted for.

On the way, we saw a Ferris wheel, some topiary knights, the chillest cows ever, and a very creepy statue.

To celebrate our success, we tried the Calvados and Pommeau. The Calvados was way too strong for our tastes, but the Pommeau was delicious. We then had dinner while watching Darkest Hour to get us into the WWII mood for the next days’ D-Day tours.

And all the while, over these past two days and the rest of our time in Bayeux, the church bell tower played a song at the top of every hour. It was always the same song, and we could never quite place it. It drove us crazy for our entire stay.

Next Post: D-Day Tours

Last Post: Yet More Paris

[17mounteens]

You confessing to Wonwoo but he doesnt accept it at first because he has his sights on someone else. But then it turns from angst to fluff and idek how it will go (i have faith in you guys!) A long scenario if it's not a bother? Thank u!

Ay this was a really nice request and I hope you like how I went about it! Longer requests are always welcome - I hope this is long enough for you ^^

Note: If you happen to have a cat allergy, let’s agree that you’re taking some good meds in the scenario… 

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 5,983 words

From the very first time you met him, Wonwoo had held a special place in your heart. There was something captivating, something inviting and something very familiar about him that really appealed to you, and not once did say or do anything that had your heart faltering - quite the opposite, really.

The first time you met, you had raised your eyebrows upon seeing a man randomly crouched in the middle of the street, which wasn’t exactly your everyday sight. When you walked closer, however, you could see that he was playing with a kitten, a small smile on his face as the small cat meowed and tried to reach for his hand.

“Is it yours?” you had found yourself asking him, and the man had turned to look at you in surprise, still smiling, and you had taken note of how you could’ve sworn you’d seen him before.

“No, I just found it from the street. But I’m contemplating…” his voice had trailed off as he had turned back to the kitten, giving it his hand to lean against, which it did while closing its eyes. The man’s smile softened. “I don’t want to leave it here. It won’t live long if I do.”

You had then crouched down next to him, giving the kitten your own hand to smell a little, and hummed. “Are you able to take it in?”

“I suppose,” he had said thoughtfully. “Or at least I don’t think my apartment has a pet ban.”

“Let’s hope so, then,” you had smiled, and he had agreed.

For a moment you had just been there, two odd, crouching people while others walked past you, talking about the kitten and pets in general. Eventually he had stood up with the kitten in his hands.

“I’m taking it in,” he had said determinedly, his nose scrunching a little with his smile. “Oh, and I’m Jeon Wonwoo. You look a bit familiar…”

“I’m Y/N,” you had introduced yourself and smiled a bit shyly at his remark. “And you do, too. But unless you go to the nearby university, we might not have met before.”

“I do, actually,” Wonwoo had smiled, “but I don’t think we’ve met, I’ve just seen you around.”

Your cheeks had heated up the tiniest bit from the fact that he remembered you despite only seeing you, but you had nodded in understanding nevertheless. Besides, hadn’t it been the same way for you?

“Perhaps we should actually meet there someday, too,” you had giggled and moved your eyes from Wonwoo’s piercing eyes to the kitten in his arms, petting it lightly. “You need to keep me updated on this little fellow.”

“I will,” he had laughed, and soon you had departed, him home with the kitten and you with a new warmth in your chest to the university, where you had a lesson.

From there on, you and Wonwoo got to know each other, little by little. It started with simply talking about the kitten and how it was doing and what he had named it, but soon you also began talking about school as well as your interests, which seemed to match surprisingly well.

“How did we not meet before?” you asked one afternoon when the two of you were at one of the cafés at the campus, doing your work for a course you shared, and Wonwoo chuckled while sipping on his coffee.

“Probably because I’m pretty withdrawn, and we’ve literally had one course in common before this one?” he suggested amusedly, and when you turned to look at him, you could see his nose crinkling a little, which only made your smile widen.

He was cute.

“That could be it,” you chuckled and took a sip of your own drink. “But I’m glad we met, really. Even if it was a rather odd situation.”

“Me too,” Wonwoo smiled warmly, and blinked in surprise when his phone buzzed. “Shit, I gotta go, I promised to catch a movie with Mingyu. Are you still coming over tomorrow to see Bongbong?”

He started packing his bag, and you laughed to yourself at the name he had given the kitten. “Of course I am, if it’s still fine with you.”

“Good,” he grinned and stood up to put his laptop into his bag, too. “I’ll get you the book we talked about earlier.”

“Alright,” you smiled and watched Wonwoo leave the café, his phone in his hand and his bag lazily on his shoulder. A quiet sigh left your lips as you moved your gaze down to your notebook, where you were doing a book analysis.

In the middle of the page was the main topic - unrequited love - that you had yet to add details to.

The warm yet hopeless feeling in your chest told you that it would be a fairly personal analysis to do, as much as you knew your feelings could hardly be called love just yet.

…

The next day, you knocked on Wonwoo’s door, holding a new packet of cat toys and some snacks in your other hand, and smiled brightly when he opened the door to you. “I got the kitten something nice.”

As soon as you entered his apartment, you were met with quiet meowing, and soon the gray kitten came to the hallway from the living room, visibly happy to see you.

“Well hello there,” you cooed and crouched down to pet Bongbong a little, mainly giving it the freedom to press itself against you. Wonwoo looked at the two of you in amusement as you opened the toy pack and began playing with the kitten.

“Sometimes I think it might like you more than it likes me,” he hummed with a chuckle, and you snorted.

“I doubt that, you’re the one taking care of it,” you pointed out and moved your gaze up to Wonwoo. “No one can beat that.”

“But for reference, you just spoil and play with it, I have to scold it,” Wonwoo noted with a grin, and you laughed.

“Still,” you said quietly and, a few moments later, stood up. “So, tea?”

He nodded and went to the kitchen corner, and you followed him while he put the kettle on.

“Where’s the book?” you asked curiously and looked around, taking note of the bookshelf in his living room area, full of books and CDs, and Wonwoo let out a quiet “Oh, yeah,” and went to his bedroom, soon returning with the book you had wanted to read.

“There you go,” he smiled while handing it to you, and leaned against the kitchen counter. “It’s a bit worn out, but that just means it’s a good book.”

You looked at him in amusement and shook your head. “How many times have you read this?”

“Too many to count,” he snickered and turned around to get the two of you some cups from the cupboard. You moved your eyes to him, a bit shy as you took in his features: they were sharp in many ways, but there was something very warm about him that made you feel at ease with him.

You had come to treasure the sharpness of his eyes, because beneath it all there was so much love for the things and people around him, and to you that spoke volumes about him. He was one of the people who looked intimidating but were one of the nicest people once you got to know them, and while you hadn’t been friends for too long yet, you already felt a connection with him.

He turned to look at you when he had put the cups down, and smiled widely when he caught you looking at him, his features somehow relaxing immediately. “What is it?”

A smile spread to your lips, too. You could tell he felt a similar connection, too.

“It’s nothing, I just got a bit lost in my thoughts,” you lied and shook your head a little. Wonwoo nodded, and although he wasn’t fully convinced, he didn’t push it any further, either.

Perhaps the way he knew when not to cross any lines was also one of the many things that led to you falling for him, slowly but surely.

Soon you sat by the table with tea in your cups, and you giggled while looking at Bongbong as it climbed up to his couch that already had a lot of scratch marks in it.

“Why did you name it Bongbong?” you asked amusedly and quirked your eyebrow a little.

Wonwoo laughed and shook his head, clearly amused by the memory. “It was actually Mingyu’s idea. He spent a while staring at Bongbong, squinting his eyes and all, and suddenly blurted it out, and well… Now it’s Bongbong.”

You laughed heartily and sipped your tea. “Mingyu has too much power.”

His smile softened a little. “It’s fine.”

You blinked in surprise, but didn’t pay much mind to any of it, not even the way Wonwoo’s voice softened at the mention of Mingyu.

After all, they were friends.

…

“You’ve been daydreaming a lot lately.”

You jolted from the sudden voice by your side and turned to the owner of it, seeing Wonwoo grinning at you, now seated by your side in the auditorium.

“Oh, it’s just…” you began, your words trailing off, and slowly moved your eyes away from him. You were not about to tell him that you were daydreaming about him. “The assignment for Mrs. Kim.”

Wonwoo quirked his eyebrow and squinted his eyes a little. “You turned it in yesterday. Did you miss something in it or why is it still on your mind?”

Cursing his attentiveness in your mind - who even kept track of what schoolwork their friends turned in and what they didn’t - you forced a smile. “Ah, kinda. There was something I now realize I should’ve included in it.”

He nodded and smiled a little. “Let’s hope she won’t mind.”

You nodded and mentally let out a sigh of relief: he had bought it.

Wonwoo got his book and laptop out, ready for the lesson you were about to have together, and let out a sound that let you know he had just remembered something. “Oh yeah, wanna go see a movie this weekend? Mingyu kinda bailed on me, and you’re amazing to be with, so…”

While the mention of the first option being Mingyu made you frown for a nanosecond, your heart felt warm at the invite, and so you nodded readily. You’d never turn down time to be with Wonwoo. “Sure. What movie is it?”

“I can give you a list of all the ones I want to see and you can choose?” he chuckled amusedly, his eyes sparkling the friendly warmth they usually did with you, and you chuckled quietly.

“That works,” you said, and soon turned your attention to the front of the auditorium, where your lecturer was preparing to start the lesson.

Wonwoo took one more amused, warm look at you before focusing on the lecturer, too.

…

While you didn’t want to admit it, you put a bit more effort into the way you looked for the movie with Wonwoo. You made sure your clothes were neat, looked good on you, and that your hair wasn’t too messy nor too neat, and so forth.

You wanted to look good and feel like you did, but only so that it didn’t seem awfully obvious.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened momentarily when he saw you at your meeting spot by the movie theatre. “I’m not saying that you don’t look good on the regular, but wow, Y/N, you look good.”

Feeling your cheeks heat up a little, you smiled at him. “Thanks.”

If you weren’t completely imagining it, however, you weren’t the only one who had put some effort into the way you looked, as Wonwoo seemed to have chosen his outfit and accessories with more care than usual, too. His appearance altogether had your heart beating a bit faster; he looked even more handsome than he normally did.

“Let’s get going,” Wonwoo chuckled and stroked your arm for a moment, then waited for you to join him in walking into the theatre. Once you had gotten your tickets, you went to look at popcorn and other snacks. “So, what do you want?”

“Popcorn,” you said without much of a thought, eyes locked on it. He grinned and hummed in understanding, which made you squint your eyes a little. “Why?”

“It’s on me,” he announced, and you shook your head immediately.

“No no, I don’t want to owe you,” you said, but Wonwoo merely laughed.

“Relax, it’s not expensive and I won’t want any money back. I was mostly thinking we could share a big tub,” he laughed, if at nothing else, then at your panicked expression. Your features softened at his suggestion.

“Oh… okay,” you said, now much more relaxed, although Wonwoo’s playful expression did make you feel a bit nervous. You never knew what to expect when he was in such a mood.

Regardless, he bought you a big tub of popcorn, and the two of you got yourselves something to drink, too, before going to the room your movie would be in.

“I’ve got to admit, choosing the movie was difficult,” you sighed once you had sat down on the plush seat, with Wonwoo next to you. He laughed quietly.

“What, how many of the others did you want to see?” he asked in amusement and looked at you. You pursed your lips.

“All of them,” you admitted and earned a laugh from Wonwoo as an amazed, wide smile spread to his lips.

“We seem to have a lot in common,” he hummed softly and chuckled. “You’re the first one.”

You tilted your head in surprise and confusion, and he shook his head.

“It’s just that I don’t usually have a whole lot in common with… well, anyone,” he said warmly and looked into your eyes, which made you hold your breath subconsciously.

You smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “Well, now you have someone.”

“Yeah, and it’s amazing,” Wonwoo nodded happily, oblivious to just how warm and fuzzy his words made you feel.

…

As days, weeks and months passed, you started realizing just how much you liked Wonwoo, and not simply just as a friend. It eventually got to a point where it was almost painful to be with him, when you wanted to hold his hand and hug him and do that kind of things with him, but knew that he wasn’t the type to do any of that, at least unless you dated.

It took a gentle push from your best friend for you to finally realize that you could, in fact, confess to him and see where it would lead.

”He’s a good guy, there’s no way it’ll end badly. If the feeling is mutual, you’ll see what to do. And even if it isn’t, I’m sure he doesn’t want to give up on your friendship.”

With your friend’s words playing in your head, you walked up the stairs to Wonwoo’s apartment, where you had agreed to go again, both to see Bongbong and work on a project with him.

It all went as per usual - you played with Bongbong, Wonwoo made you tea, you worked on the project, and eventually sat down with some light lunch and talked.

Your heart beat fast in your chest. This was it.

“Wonwoo,” you began, suddenly feeling your mouth go dry and your heart skip a beat when he looked straight into your eyes. “I… I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

He raised his eyebrows curiously, but frowned a little when he took note of how nervous you were. “Is everything okay?”

He placed his hand on top of yours on the table, which alone sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you pulled your hand away slowly.

“The thing is, I…” you took a deep breath and sighed as you moved your eyes up to his, having broken the eye contact a moment earlier. “I like you.”

There was silence as Wonwoo’s pupils dilated and mouth opened, yet no voice came out.

You weren’t sure if you were feeling hopeful or afraid, but the tension could’ve been cut with a knife nevertheless.

Then he averted his gaze, his lips curving downwards a little. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I… I like someone else.”

You could feel your heart drop, and you knew right there and then that it was quite likely one of the worst feelings in the world.

Despite the hopefulness and the little things - understanding each other’s humor better than anyone else and taking care of each other whenever needed being some - that had given you a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe he liked you back, as it turned out… it was all nothing. He didn’t like you, not in that way, and instead liked someone else.

As you tried to think about who it could be - because you were just that masochistic - you suddenly realized something.

It all made sense.

“Do you like Mingyu?” you asked bluntly, and felt your heart drop another time when Wonwoo nodded a bit shyly, his cheeks a soft hue of pink.

“Yeah,” he admitted and rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded slowly, suddenly remembering all the times he had talked about Mingyu, always with such a soft voice and a small smile on his face.

As much as you could feel your heart breaking in your chest, you didn’t want to break down in front of Wonwoo, and merely forced a smile to your face. “Well, that’s that. Now you know.”

Wonwoo nodded, but he was still visibly concerned, looking sad as you tried to appear cheerful. “Y/N, I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said immediately and shushed him with your hand, but your voice was about as empty as the look in your eyes. “Ah, I need to go, it’s getting late.”

It was barely even 5pm, but it didn’t matter. You had to get out of there, and Wonwoo could only guess how awkward the situation was for you, so he didn’t do anything to stop you or ask where you had to go at such a time.

“Will I still see you tomorrow?” he asked while you put on your shoes, as he leaned against the wall. You looked up at him.

“Oh, uh… sure,” you smiled and grabbed your bag. “Until tomorrow!”

With that, you left, closing the door behind yourself as fast as you could, and it was when the door was shut that it all crashed down on you, and you could no longer hold the sob in, your hand covering your mouth. It felt like your heart was shattering, and it only made it so much worse to know that Wonwoo still treasured you and was worried about you.

Perhaps it would’ve felt easier if he didn’t like you at all, not even as a friend, but instead he thought of you as a very close one.

You wouldn’t have minded if the next day never came.

…

That evening, you spent a good few hours on the phone with your best friend, telling them how things had played out, although you left out who Wonwoo liked, since you weren’t sure it was something he wanted others to know.

”Ah… that’s so unfortunate, Y/N. But you’re still friends, right?”

You fiddled with the blanket you had over your legs and hummed quietly, your eyes feeling dry from all the tears you had shed until then. “Yeah… I’m just not too sure if it’s a good thing, honestly.”

”Why?”

To you it felt self-explanatory, so you sighed. “You know, just the whole deal of seeing him regularly while being smitten by him yet knowing he likes someone else, and knowing that he knows how I feel.”

Your friend was quiet for a moment. ”…Okay, that does sound awful. Will you be okay?”

You chuckled quietly, with a sad hint to it. “I’ll try to be.”

From there on, you began talking about other things little by little, and your best friend did their best to get your thoughts elsewhere, although you found many things reminding you of Wonwoo.

Your heart ached: you knew that crushes would come and go and it wasn’t the end of the world, but you had never felt as good and safe with anyone before as you did with him. You wanted to be with him, and not just as friends, and knowing that that wouldnät be happening was a bitter pill to swallow.

The thought that maybe you weren’t meant to be only tore your heart apart more.

…

The next day, you and Wonwoo went to visit a museum like you had agreed to some days earlier. It was for a class, and you didn’t really have any better options for company than him, so you didn’t want to cancel it.

You arrived to the museum first, and felt feelings mix inside of you when you saw the familiar face appearing from amidst of people, as charming as ever. Your heart fluttered a little yet it also made you feel uncomfortably anxious.

“I’m not late, am I?” Wonwoo asked with a smile, and you shook your head, a small smile on your face, too.

“No, right on time,” you assured him and took a deep breath in order to mentally prepare yourself for the time you’d spend in the museum with him. Wonwoo looked at you curiously, as if making sure you were okay without actually asking you about it. You sighed and turned away from him, facing the museum instead. “Let’s go.”

He nodded readily, and with that you entered the museum and got your tickets, after which you were able to enter the showcase.

You walked to one of the items on display and jolted when you felt Wonwoo’s hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice surprisingly soft, and you nodded hastily despite the lump in your throat.

The last thing you needed was him worrying about you, not to mention be as sweet to you as he was.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly and got his hand off your shoulder, forcing a small smile to your face as you looked at him. “Don’t worry.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly, unconvinced, and watched you walk to another item. He sighed quietly and shook his head. ’How can I not worry..?’

The museum trip was, in one word, painful. He seemed to be treating you like the world’s most delicate flower, and it only upset you more.

Since he wasn’t returning your feelings, did he really have to be so sweet? Did he not realize how badly that was exactly what you craved from him, but not with the circumstances you were in?

It simply felt like rubbing salt into your wounds.

When you were leaving the museum, you sighed, and Wonwoo hummed in question.

“You’re too nice,” you said quietly, and Wonwoo nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and there was an odd, small pout on his lips. “I just don’t want to make you feel worse.”

The sweetness of his voice and words nearly had your eyes welling up with tears, and you hurried to blink them away, laughing dryly, bitterness audible in your voice as you spoke. “Well, being as sweet are you have been today doesn’t help.”

He nodded again. “I know.”

You worried your lower lip between your teeth. “I think we should just… not see for a while.”

“I suppose that would be for the best,” Wonwoo admitted, but it was clear that he didn’t particularly want to not see you. He loved spending time with you, and although it was a very mutual feeling, you decided to ignore it.

You needed some time to yourself, away from him - away from the misery of your unrequited love.

“Well then,” you began, smiling a little while taking a few steps away from him already. “See you around.”

“See you,” he said quietly and watched you leave the museum.

God, the guilt was ripping his heart apart.

…

Upon arriving home, you let out a deep sigh.

“I made it,” you whispered to yourself, but bit down on your lower lip when your eyes began stinging with tears, and soon you were wiping them with your forefingers. The memory of Wonwoo’s concerned expression was too much, as was how awfully comfortable his hand had felt on your shoulder. “Stupid Wonwoo…”

Your phone buzzed in your bag, and you took it out, only for your heart to jump to your throat.

’I’m really sorry for everything, Y/N. I know you want some time for yourself and I’ll give you that, but… I really want to stay as friends with you. You’re very important to me, and I don’t want to lose you over this.

- Wonwoo’

Your heart was beating fast in your chest, and the hand you were holding your phone with was shaking a little.

’I want to be your friend, too, but right now I… don’t know if I have it in me. I like you too much. I need space.’

Before his reply came in, you went to your living room and curled up on the couch.

’I understand. Hit me up when things are better, okay?’

You sent him a simple reply in form of ‘Ok’ and put your phone away. Your heart was aching, and as you shut your eyes, you felt tears leave them.

There was nothing you wanted more than to be with Wonwoo, whether it was to just sit by his side or hug him or something like that, yet in order to cool down your feelings, that was the last thing you should be doing.

You could only wish he would actually let you be alone until you were ready to see him again, and hopefully by then he would no longer have the ability to make your heart flutter.

…

Much to your misfortune, Wonwoo didn’t exactly let you be. You occasionally got pictures of Bongbong from him, as well as a few messages about the books he had been reading and movies he had been watching, and while he left you alone in class, he did message you regarding a project you were doing together.

You stared at all the messages, wondering if he had misunderstood what it meant to let you be.

Sat, 2:14pm: ‘I just finished reading this one book, and it was really good. You should read it sometime, too, I can lend it.’

Sun, 6:15pm: ‘The movie based on the book we read together is coming out soon. We should go see it.’

Mon, 6:55am: ‘Good morning, Y/N. The sun is shining brightly today, and it reminded me of you. I hope you have a good day.’

Tues, 3:57pm: ‘Wonwoo sent you a photo: Bongbong misses you. It’s broken all the toys and won’t stop whining haha.’

Thurs, 7:02pm: ‘The deadline of the project is next Friday. How should we divide the remaining work?’

You had yet to answer any of them, nor any of the messages sent before them, but the last one you knew you’d have to answer sooner or later, since it was about school. Typing a reply, you soon hit send. ’I can do the slides and research, if you want to do the writing.’

It had been a week into not seeing Wonwoo, and while you had thought it would take your thoughts off him, the effect seemed to be the opposite. Even if he hadn’t messaged you, you found your mind drifting to him more and more often, thinking about what he was doing, if he was sleeping enough, and other trivial things.

Your phone buzzed, and you stared at the simple reply emptily.

’I miss you.’

As anxiety and sadness washed over you in a wave of hot and cold, you typed fast. ’Get over it.’

He replied just as fast. 

’I can’t.’

You frowned, and if it hadn’t been an active conversation of a kind, you would’ve just put your phone away and slept over it rather than followed your impulses. ’Go out with Mingyu or something, just let me be.’

This time he took a bit more to reply, and when he did, you felt air leave your lungs. 

’Why would I go out with him when I want to go out with you?’

Before you were able to even start typing, he already sent another message. 

’I’ve been thinking a lot these days, and when you’re ready, I really want to see you.’

You spent a moment just thinking about it, processing Wonwoo’s words, and then wrote back to him. ’Maybe tomorrow.’

He agreed with it, and you agreed to meet at the café you had been to early on in your friendship.

…

The next day, you made your way to the café with your heart racing in your chest, unsure of what was waiting for you yet prepared for the worst.

Once you had arrived there, you spotted Wonwoo by the table you used to sit at, and joined him there. He jolted when he saw you, and smiled while standing up.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said, and was about to stroke your arm, only stopping when you shook your head timidly. His smile faltered a little, but it didn’t leave his face. “Let’s go order.”

You went to queue up, made your orders and soon returned to the table, sitting on either side of the table.

“You sounded like you had something to say,” you said quietly, looking at the pastry in front of you and slowly moving your eyes up to Wonwoo when you could faintly see him nod.

“It’s about your confession,” he said, his voice the slightest bit shaky, and smiled a little.

You winced. “I’m not sure if I want to talk about it.”

He shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. “Just hear me out.”

Sighing, you nodded. Did you have any other choice? “Alright.”

Wonwoo cleared his throat and linked his hands on the table. “I said I’ve been thinking, right?” You nodded. “Well, I’ve been thinking about your confession, and you, and us.”

Your eyebrows knitted momentarily. “What about us?”

He looked into your eyes warmly, his voice soft as he spoke, his nose crinkling from the brightness of his smile. “I like you, Y/N. And it took me awfully long to realize it.”

You could feel your heart fluttering, and you hated it. It was too good to be true. With a shaky voice, you spoke, frowning. “What about Mingyu?”

“I found out he doesn’t swing this way,” Wonwoo chuckled and shook his head. “And really, we don’t have anything in common. He likes dogs, and only tolerates Bongbong because we’re friends, although I’m not sure what brought that about, either. We don’t even share our taste in music or movies or books or anything.”

Confusion was filling you all over - was Wonwoo really saying what you thought he was?

“You, however…” Wonwoo continued, his voice even softer as his smile grew even warmer. “We have a lot in common. We get along. We always have fun together. We care about each other. You like Bongbong and it likes you, and so do I.”

Your heart beat fast, this time in a much nicer way than during the past weeks, but you found yourself still skeptical. “A-are you sure you’re not confusing liking with just… friendly feelings?”

He shook his head and reached for your hands. “I’ve wanted to hold your hands for a while now. I’ve been wondering how soft your lips are, and I’ve wanted to hug you tightly, press your head to my chest and all that. I don’t think I’m confused in the least, but you tell me.”

A small, happy smile began climbing to your face as you held Wonwoo’s hands, too. “And it’s not just because Mingyu doesn’t like guys?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I figured out I liked you before he said he had gotten himself a girlfriend, so no.”

Your smile widened as anxiety and fear started leaving you, and instead you were filled with the feelings of warmth and excitement, as well as the butterflies you used to have before you had found out Wonwoo didn’t, at the time, like you back.

Suddenly he cupped your cheek and you blinked as he rubbed your skin with his thumb gently, his eyes sparkling with happiness as he looked into your eyes. “Would you like to go out with me? As in, on a date.”

You nodded readily and lowered his hand slowly from your cheek, keeping it in your hands. “I’d love to.”

…

From there on it felt like all your daydreams were coming true. You moved slowly, of course, as the two of you still got to know each other more romantically, but you did hold hands starting from the very moment he confessed to you.

His hand felt perfect with yours, and the warmth of his body against yours whenever you hugged felt so safe and pleasant that you never wanted to part.

Your first few dates were a lot of fun: you went to the movies as per usual, worked on school assignments and hung out together, playing with Bongbong and so forth. Not much changed between the two of you, besides that you started touching each other a lot more often and a lot more shamelessly.

It wasn’t a rare sight to see you hugging at the university, either, although you wanted to hide every time Mingyu or someone else walked by and teased the two of you about it.

The first night that you stayed over at his place, which was a few weeks into your relationship, Wonwoo leaned closer to you on the floor, where you were playing with Bongbong, by then much bigger than the day Wonwoo had taken it in. You turned to look at him in amusement while petting the cat, and felt Wonwoo’s arm wrap around your shoulders.

“So…” he began with a low chuckle, and you giggled, too. Bringing his other hand to your face to get your chin between his forefinger and thumb, he turned your head better towards himself, lifting your face in the process. “How soft are your lips?”

While butterflies flew in your stomach and your heart picked up the pace at which it was beating, you giggled, slightly nervous, and raised your eyebrows meaningfully. “I think you’ll have to try and find out.”

Little by little, Wonwoo leaned close enough to bring your lips together into a light, affectionate kiss that made you see fireworks and feel oh, so loved.

When Wonwoo pulled away, he grinned and pecked your forehead. “Pretty soft.”

You laughed and leaned against him, closing your eyes and letting out a quiet, happy sigh while Bongbong climbed between your crossed legs and got comfortable there.

Despite the obstacles on the way, you were infinitely happy you had ended up where you were: by Wonwoo’s side and in his arms, able to call yourself the person he treasured while treasuring him just as much.

And because you had been wondering about the softness of his lips, too, you used it as your excuse to steal another kiss from him a moment later, laughing when you pulled back. “Not soft at all.”

He looked at you with a wide smile, mock offended, and clicked his tongue. “Oh, I’ll show you.”

Wonwoo gave you another kiss, and yet another, and both of you smiled into them, laughing a little, too.

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