#i think maybe demetrius is the only other person in his life who speaks his language‚ is direct and to the point and wants clear

[gibbearish]

oh no im remembering why i liked sebastian so much my first time through

[kamilah-is-queen]

Great ! but i have to warn you it’s gonna be a LONG one as i have written all the ideas but i can’t write the scenario without it being VERY cheesy. plus I’d appreciate it if you didn’t include smut in my request which i’ll post after this one but maybe just some fluff and “indicators” of following smut but not actually writing any 😂 (ps. you don’t have to reply to this ask neither the following ask in which i’ll put the whole fic idea)

I was informed that @rocketscientist07 had written a similar piece on AO3, so just to clarify I don’t mean to copy their work and ideas. Credit for this idea goes to the anon that requested this. The beginning of the story is changed slightly from the end scene from Bloodbound, due to an easier plot style.

Link to The Darker Side

Tagging: @wisebananapatrol, @kamilahtopme, @vonda-b-real, @iamsimpforpoppy, @millasayeed, @clan-sayeed-fic, @queenkamilah



Rheya outstretched a blood soaked hand towards the Bloodkeeper, an evil smirk rising to her face. “Come with me, Amy. Learn what true power feels like..” A glow of orange light blossoming out of her hand as she guided it towards the Bloodkeeper. “..These puny creatures living in my shadow can’t give you the power, the strength, the potential to rule the world and have you as it’s Queen Amy.”

The young vampire in an attempt to satisfy her curiosity, reached her fingers towards the bright glow from Rheya’s hand. A bolt of energy burst through her body, the pain replaced by strength, her insecurities replaced with a new found confidence.

She lifted off the stage, the same beam of light emitting from her eyes as Rheya’s voice echoed inside the Bloodkeeper’s head. “These mortals don’t deserve to live Amy,” she said, gesturing to the dumbfounded group of humans in their seats, “kill every last one of them.” The First commanded.

Amy closed her eyes as the power grew, Jax, Lily and Adrian watched in horror before Kamilah sprang to the place beneath Amy. “Amy, wait!” The youngest vampire bowed her head to meet Kamilah’s eyes, her voice deeper than a crack of thunder. “It’s too late, Kamilah.

The Egyptian didn’t attempt to stop the tears that slid from her eyes, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces all over again. “No, Amy no, it isn’t too late. You can fight this, I know you can, my love.” Her voice cracked, fear and anxiousness rising in her voice.

“You're stronger than anyone I’ve ever known, even stronger than I thought...than I thought you could’ve been Amy. We’ve been through so much, all of us,  don’t give up now..”

“We defeated Gauis together, traveled to Japan and worked with the Five. Crashed down on that island where Demetrieus’s tree was living. If you weren’t strong or powerful, none of us would be here today Amy. None of us.”

Amy watched intently, before turning her head away. “I’m not who you think I am, not anymore.” She raised her hands toward the sky and closed her fists, the mortal crowd screaming in agony before one by one, the blood pooled out of their bodies and towards Amy.

The tears fell furiously as Kamilah sunk to her knees, sobbing into her hands. “My my, what a pity.” Rheya cackled into the night sky, extending her hand to Amy once more. With a final look towards her friends, towards everything she ever knew, she met Kamilah’s gaze.

Amy saw fear. She saw the memories of them flash through Kamilah’s eyes. Memories of them sharing the warmest of cuddles and the softest of kisses. Memories of the two laughing into the night sky, and some of when the night was more passionate like in the Cabin. The moment when Kamilah confessed her love as Amy slipped away from the world, all of them meaning nothing in that split second.

Amy relived the moments where she broke down Kamilah’s steel walls, especially the walls of her heart. She had to make a decision. Would she stay with Kamilah and enjoy the safety and security of the Egyptian? Or, would she choose Rheya and her promise of power and control over the world. To rule as a true queen, with no boundaries to constrict here.

The voice in Amy’s head screamed at her to choose Kamilah, but if she did, one of her friends wouldn’t make it. She knew that one of them wouldn’t, and she couldn’t risk it. After everything she’d been through, they were family. And it was wrong to turn your back on family, but it was for the greater good. Only, the gang didn’t see it as that.

“I’m sorry..” Amy’s voice barely a whisper, before she took Rheya’s hand and they disappeared into the night sky.

“No! No, no, no, no!” Kamilah slammed her fist into the stage of the opera house, her vision blurred with the tears streaming down her cheeks. She punched the stage again, and again, and again until her hands were completely soaked in blood and the skin on her knuckles ripped as Adrian attempted to calm her.

He wrapped his arms around her, a strong grip holding Kamilah in place as she shrieked with the heartache. Kamilah eventually tired out, the events of the past few weeks catching up to her. The plane crash with Gauis, the trip to Japan, all the moments with Amy, they all came crashing and burning in her heart.

“It’s okay Kamilah, she’s made her decision. It’s okay, we’ll find a way to get her back.” He slowly rocked the older vampire in his arms, his heartbeat a comforting rhythm as Kamilah relaxed.

“What if she doesn’t..want to come back Adrian?” Kamilah’s voice thick with grief, feeling a sense of instability for the first time in her life. Adrian took a deep breath, steeling himself, “I promise, she will. She can’t leave you, leave us like this without reason sister. Love will bring her back to you”

“She betrayed us.” With enough agony for the day, Kamilah passed out into Adrain’s arms. Her heart weighing in her chest like an anvil, an anvil broken into thousands of heavy little pieces.

5 years later…

The roaring noise of the thunder and lightning filled the night sky as Amy walked through the streets of Japan. She gripped the fabric of her clothes, the material drenched in the rain but that didn’t stop her from continuing forward.

The lasting words of her previous conversation rang through Amy’s head…

“Demetrius, if we wish to obtain the type of power we seek, then we mustn’t stand idle. What are we waiting for? One move and the superpowers of the world will be beneath us, begging for mercy.”

Rheya clenched her fist and raised it to the sky, her eyes glimmering with hope yet dark with longing. The four were placed at the dinner table, Rheya at the head and Demetrius, Lola, Gauis and Amy positioned nearby.

When Amy had agreed to join Rheya in her hungry quest for power, she had also unknowingly agreed to be an anchor to the other side. With a lack of support, Rheya brought both Lola and Demetrius back to life. Not only for emotional support, but for advice in their conquest.

Unfortunately, this only worsened Amy’s condition. As if being away from anyone she’s ever known was difficult enough, the burden of being the link between the living and the dead was also placed upon her shoulders.

As Amy listened on to the conversation, rage filled in her chest. All the innocent lives of mortals to be lost, at the cost of one of her friends was unbearable to think about. The anger consumed her, filling her body and she didn’t attempt to cease it.

“While you may be right, Rheya...we’re still lacking the resources to pull something like this off. I think we should wait, hold off as long as possible and strike when least expected.” Amy stood from the table, excusing herself as she prayed her tactics had worked.

“Amy wait…” Gauis stood and immediately rushed after her. “I know something’s off, you’ve never acted like this before.” He gently cupped Amy’s face with a hand, Amy leaning into the touch before pulling away slowly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” She replied with a small smile.

Gauis had been there through it all. From the very first night she spent with the First and her crew up until that point. In some ways, they had grown close. When Amy needed security and a sense of tranquility, Gauis was the first to be at her side. Through all his hardened and almost non existent emotions, he felt sorry for the girl. She was a mere child, thrown into a whirlpool of danger and excitement and he felt it was his place to keep her safe.

They’d spent many nights together, Gauis not knowing whether Amy truly felt for him the way he did for her, or if it was an escape to a land of peace and calm.

With a small sigh, Gauis pulled his hand back. “Perhaps a stroll will clear your mind. Allow me to join you, my Queen?”

“I think it’ll be best if I took this one alone.” Amy encouragingly squeezing his hand before strolling out through the castle’s gates.

Now, as she walked aimlessly through the brightly lit streets, there was only one person on her mind...Kamilah. She’d overheard conversations about the gang relocating to Japan, to strengthen their base and form a stronger alliance with the Five. Of course that was Rheya’s first plan, to wipe them out but with quick thinking, Amy was able to hold her off.

But it wouldn’t last for long, and that’s why Amy was going to take Rheya, Demetrius and Lola out. But only with the help of her family.

Amy strode in through the doors of the famous club, the club where Amy had first seen Aiko. As she looked around, the familiar faces brought a warm sensation to heart. They were safe, her family was alive.

Small murmurs pulled Amy out of her thoughts, her gaze falling to each and every person in the room. Adrian was seated on a bar stool beside Lily, the pair speaking in hushed whispers as they gazed at Amy. Jax was sipping a glass of whiskey, Akeyo, Henry, Kano and The Evolved beside him.

Then, there was Kamilah. Seated comfortably in one of the cream sofas, Aiko nestled on her lap with a glass of wine in hand.

Amy felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes threatening to give way to tears as she looked on. Kamilah hadn’t noticed Amy’s presence for she was too indulged in covering Aiko in gentle kisses. Kisses that only Amy was allowed to have, touches that Kamilah swore would only be placed upon Amy, now onto a new partner.

“Hello love, did you miss me?” Amy said with a smug smirk across her face, her gaze directed at Kamilah. The vampires looked up from their previous conversation, Kamilah’s eyes widening in disbelief. “I know I’m the last person you want to be speaking to, but I don’t care. I need your help and you guys are family, I know you wouldn’t give up on me.” She said, her head bowed slightly.

When Amy lifted her head, Kamilah was standing before her. The Egyptian’s features hadn’t differed from their usual breathtaking appearance. Her eyes never wavering from Amy’s as the two fell into a trance.

“It’s you...it’s really you Amy.” Kamilah hesitantly took a step forward before her arm was snatched back by Aiko.

“Why would we help you, traitor?” Aiko practically spitting out the words with a scowl across her face. Amy took in the remarks before replying, “I don’t think a useless mutt like you could have the brain capacity to help anyways.” She said while checking her fingernails.

Kamilah held Aiko back as the vampire lunged towards Amy, “You little bitch I swear I’ll get you one day!”

“Enough Aiko!” Kamilah’s eyes flashed a threatening maroon colour, forcing Aiko to back down and regain her composure.

“Fine, but this rotten piece of shit…” Aiko whispered harshly with her finger pointed at Amy’s face, “should’ve never shown her face here.”

As the Five assisted in dragging Aiko away, Kamilah refocused her attention back on Amy. “Let’s talk somewhere more private, shall we?” Lily led the four towards the back room, everyone standing at a distance from each other as an awkward silence filled the room.

Adrian was the first to speak as he set his glass down on the table…”Amy, you know we’d never turn our back on you but you have to understand, what you did 5 years ago isn’t something to be taken lightly.” His face was oddly calm and nonchalant, something that didn’t happen often with the CEO.

“You...you betrayed us…” Lily bowed her head as her voice cracked. Tears filled the vampire’s eyes as they slid down her cheeks.

“No, that’s what I’m trying to say. All this time, I’ve been with Rheya for the gang’s protection. It seems crazy, and twisted but..it’s not I swear.” Amy’s eyes pleaded innocently as she looked around the room.

“Everything you’ve ever known, all the memories you had and every single moment of tranquility, safety and warmth was left behind the second you agreed to join her Amy.” Kamilah spoke through gritted teeth. She swirled the wine in her glass, staring at the deep red liquid sloshing from side to side.

“Kamilah…” Amy felt the coldness in her heart melt away the moment she saw the pained expression on her lovers face. Kamilah’s deep, brown eyes glossed over as their memories washed over her, clear signs of pain reaking from the older CEO.

With a flick of her gaze, Kamilah stood and turned her attention to Amy. “If you’ll excuse us.” Jax, Adrian and Lily bowed their heads respectfully, leaving the two alone in silence.

“You’re not the same Amy I knew, not the Amy I fell in love with those years ago.” Kamilah took Amy’s hands into her own, holding them gently. “But, I can’t see you in this state. Not when Rheya’s controlling you like this, no. I’ll do everything in my power to help you Amy, whether you want me to or not.”

Kamilah searched Amy’s eyes looking for something, anything. Amy simply stood frozen like a statue, her gaze flicking between her lover’s deep brown orbs. With a sigh, the CEO withdrew her hands and tucked them away in her pockets. “The truth is...I still love you. All this time, I’ve still loved you. And perhaps you don’t feel the same Amy but, I’m willing to wait for you. Be it years, or centuries...I’ll always be there to support you.”

And with that, Kamilah left without another word leaving Amy to her thoughts.

“I don’t see why you have to help her.” Aiko speaking through a tense jaw, her arms folded as she paced around their bedroom. “Because she was once mine, Aiko. I can’t sit by and watch her deteriorate like this.” Kamilah said as she gazed through the window up at the bright moon in the sky.

Aiko huffed, gripping Kamilah’s collar as her gaze fell to the CEO’s lips. “I think I need to remind you of who you’re with now, no?” Her voice dropped an octave, Aiko’s tongue licking a path across Kamilah’s lower lip.

“No, not tonight Aiko.” Kamilah gently, but firmly pushed Aiko off with a sigh. “You still love her, don’t you?” Aiko’s eyes flashed with hurt as Kamilah nodded quietly.

“How could I not love her? I know that we were together before but...this can’t go on. Not anymore.” Kamilah offered a small smile, kissing Aiko’s knuckles ever so softly.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” Aiko scoffed before storming out of the room, mumbling curses under her breath. “I’ll get that little weasel, she’s gone.” Aiko harshly whispered before rushing out of the club.

Four weeks later….

Amy, Jax, Adrian and Kamilah all gathered round in the club, a stage brightly lit in the front with a microphone on a stand.

Amy jumped up the stage, excitedly gripping the mic and tapping the tip. “Testing, testing.” Her voice rang through the room, the other three gazing up at the woman on stage.

Without warning, music started blaring through the speakers, the floor pounding with the bass. Amy gripped the mic tighter and closed her eyes. A smooth, deep voice rang through the speakers and set the gang into a trance.

“What a badass.” Lily chuckled as she sipped the beer in her hand.

“You’re saying that to a woman whose come from a small town in Massachusetts, making it big in NYC and successfully taking down the biggest threat the shadow world has ever faced. I’d say that’s quite badass.” Kamilah smirked behind her glass, watching Amy with rapt attention.

Adrian laughed and fixed the liquor behind it’s replacing place on the shelf, “Nothing less than remarkable, if you ask me. She’s made such a big difference to so many people. To us, especially.”

They all nodded in agreement before Jax spoke up. “She’s sacrificed everything for us. Love, her family, her friends...let alone the only humanity inside her. All because that psycho Rheya can’t give up her lust for power.”

Just as Amy had started the song, she closed it on a high note as the bass from the speakers started to cease. She opened her eyes to see the gang gazing intensely at her, studying her as if she was a display in a museum.

“Well, this has been fun but...I’m ready to hit the hay.” Lily yawned and outstretched her arms, Jax laughing and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Right behind ya.”

With Adrian and Kamilah not far on their heels, Amy felt her voice rising from her throat again. She had nothing on her mind but the lyrics spinning through her head, Kamilah the source behind them.

“My head's under water, but I'm breathing fine.

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind…”

Kamilah lingered at the threshold of the door, her ears peeking up as she listened to Amy’s strong voice.

“Cause all of me,

Loves all of you,

Love your curves and all your edges,

All your perfect imperfections.”

Amy poured her heart out into the words as her chest pounded with desire and longing for her lover and partner. She imagined Kamilah standing before her, her graceful smile and endless chestnut eyes staring right back into hers.

Kamilah flicked her gaze back to Amy once before walking away, a small smile spreading across her face as she hummed the lyrics. “Perhaps, she does still love me…” She whispered to herself quietly.

A few days later, Amy found herself in the terrace pool, her arms leaning back on the glass as she gazed at Kamilah in front of her. Those deep eyes gazed right through Amy, Amy so lost in them that she didn’t realize when Kamilah had gotten closer.

Kamilah’s breath tickled her neck, before the CEO lifted her head, purposely brushing her lips to Amy’s. “Will...you allow me to kiss you, Amy?” A hopeful look shone in her eyes, the same way the moonlight reflected off the pool and into her orbs.

Amy didn’t bother to respond, because she cupped Kamilah’s face...kissing her with every ounce of longing inside her body. Their lips crashed, Kamilah’s hands exploring Amy’s body as their tongues swirled around one another’s. They found a familiar rhythm, the moment feeling as if it was meant to be.

Not long after, Kamilah lifted the younger vampire out of the pool, wrapping Amy’s legs around her hips before she carried them inside for a well needed night full of passion, and desire.

—————————————-—

“It’s time.” Amy strapped her weapons to her hips before looking around at the rest of the group. “We either destroy Rheya and her crew now, or we live forever under her reign.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, finalizing the last of their plans and securing their weapons. Kamilah took Amy’s hands, resting her forehead to her own. “No matter what happens, I love you Amy.”

They both knew what happened last time those words were spoken, when everyone mourned Amy after her ‘death’. “I love you too Kamilah, I’ll always love you.” With a soft smile, Amy pecked Kamilah’s lips and turned to lead the way to Rheya’s mansion.

“Amy, you’ve retur-“ Rheya was thrown back against the wall, the plaster beneath her breaking and crumbling. Rheya cackled into the night before lifting herself into the air.

“Do you really think you and your pathetic crew can defeat me? The First?” As if on command, Gauis led a small army of ferals towards the four. “They’re not just my crew, they’re my family!” Amy lunged for Rheya, honing her senses and channeling her energy into the First’s mind.

Kamilah was one of the first to spring into action, instinctively toward Gaius. Their daggers clashed together, their faces inches apart as Kamilah wore a harsh frown, whereas Gaius had a smirk. “So we meet again, my Queen.” The sound of metal on metal filled the room as the battle continued, before Kamilah swept out his feet from underneath him. “I’m not your Queen, Gaius.” Her daggers hovered over his throat, “But, I will be the death of you.” Without hesitation, she slashed her daggers across his neck, beheading him instantly.

After that, the battle seemed to cease except for Amy and Rheya. “You took everything from me! My friends, my emotions, my humanity!”

Amy plunged her hand deep into Rheya’s chest, Rheya gasping through unable to move because of Amy’s control. She yanked the beating heart out of the vampires chest, blood dripping down her wrist. “And now I’ll take everything from you.”

Rheya lay lifeless, before crumbling to ash the same way Gaius had. Ferals ash covered the floors of the manor as the group reeled back from the attacks.

“Amy, you're alright…” The younger vampire collided with Kamilah, latching on for dear life. Kamilah tightened her hold and exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“I love you Kamilah…”

“I love you too, My Queen.”

[god-save-the-keen]

I have a prompt idea for you whenever you have the time could you write about MC telling Adrian about her mother and that she's related to Rheya & Demetrius

Thank you so much for this request! Since you send it to me, I couldn’t stop think about it, hope you like it as much as I do!

Pillow talk

Warning: angsty / fluff

Words: 1.804

Adrian x mc: @avamarieland @alesana45 @itscassandraa-blog @mattrodriguezmylife @bigmemesplz @perriewinklenerdie @x-kyne-x @livingpurpose @adriansbiss

Permanent tagg list: @gardeningourmet @eileendannie @desireepow-1986 @dawn-1994 @violinet @darley1101 @blackcatkita @flyawayboo @drakewalker04

Note: The “Read more” link is not worry (apparently) so sorry about that but it’s Tumblr fault lol

“What’s wrong, love?” Her lips rose up in a tiny smile as she turned her head towards him while his fingers lovingly caressed her cheek. Sometimes she was amused by how soft and sweet his touch was when his hands were strong enough to rip out a person’s throat. She took his hand and kissed his palm, lacing their fingers together, holding it near to her chest.

“I can’t sleep.” They were in a hotel resting after leaving the island. They had booked a flight for the next day to New York so they decided to rest for a while. “I just feel like my head is so full of things. Everything that had happened on the island, Reyha, Kano, Gaius…” She trailed off, looking uncertain, her eyes troubled and sad.

“I’m here for you, Amy. I know something has been bothering you.” She squeezed his hand involuntarily. “Something that you haven’t told me.” She looked at him a little guilty, her brows knitting together with a sorrow in her eyes that he had never seen before. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to… It’s a lot. And it’s hard.” Her gaze returned to the ceiling, like she was looking for the words to speak her thoughts. “Do you remember Kano’s mental test?”

“Of course I do.” His thumb gently stroked her hand, her eyes were still fixed on the ceiling and he waited for her to continue, he didn’t want to pressure her.

“He showed me a lot of things there… Some memories from my childhood that I didn’t even know were there, some kind of alternative universe where you didn’t hire me and…” She paused for a moment, Adrian could hear how her heart beat faster so he moved their laced hands towards his lips, kissing her knuckles. “And my mother.” She had never talked about her mother so he knew how hard this would be for her. “He showed me a memory… She was feeling bad, a strong headache, so I made her tea and, when I tried to hug her, she pushed me away.”

“I’m so sorry, love.” His heart ached imagining how she had felt and the arm under her back pulled her closer, kissing the side of her head. “You deserve better than that.”

“You don’t have any idea how many times I’ve wondered what I could have changed or what I did wrong, Adrian. But when Kano showed me I finally understood… She was a Bloodkeeper too, and when I touched her I could see things through her. And not pretty things precisely.” She rolled to her side, looking directly at him so he did the same, holding her waist. “And I know she was trying to protect me but I got so angry with her. I couldn’t understand why she kept something so important a secret from me. I could learn how to use my powers early! I could be more prepared to face Gaius or Rheya! Or at least know how to handle this, I–”

“Amy.” He said in a gentle but determined voice, his hand still in hers while the one hugging her back caressed her skin. “You can’t blame yourself or her for any of this. I wish you could see how extraordinary you are and how powerful you have become in a short time. Who knows what could have happened if you knew back then about all this, maybe nothing would change or maybe you would be a completely different person.”

“I know… Maybe I wouldn’t have met you and I wouldn’t change that for anything.” He smiled as her free hand cupped his cheek and their lips connected for a brief moment.

“Good. Cause I wouldn’t change that either, love.” She gave him that smile that he adored before becoming serious again. “That’s not everything, is it?” She shook her head. “You want to talk about it?… Did Gaius do something to you? His eyes turned red as he started to stand up, already livid. "I swear if he even touch you I–”

“No! No, nothing like that. Not this time, at least.” She grabbed his hand again, drawing him to the bed and close to her, their hands still clasped together. “It’s something that happened on the island, I…” She cut herself off and he noticed how nervous and worried she was. “I know every generation has one Bloodkeeper and when I realized that my mother was one I was astonished, I didn’t expect she was it too, I thought it was just a coincidence.”

“And it’s not?” He asked furrowing his brows concerned as she shook her head. “It has something to do with the Tree of Death?”

“How do you know?”

“You were the only one capable of getting close and touching it, Amy. Not even Gaius or Kamilah could.”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t this smart.” He chuckled a little before putting on a serious face again, stroking her cheek.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, love. You don’t have to.” He kissed her forehead.

“Inside that tree is Dimitrius… I didn’t know at that time how but he told me to get closer and touch it and… when I did… it took my mind to his mind palace. And I saw him. Or this not death version of him.” Adrian was listening, concentrated on her words, his eyes never leaving hers and his free hand constantly caressing her skin. “He told me about Reyha and Iola… That Iola actually lived and, when Reyha became the Eternal Life tree and Dimitrius the Tree of Death, through her connection with them she developed her own powers, she became the first Bloodkeeper ever. She got married and had a child, also a Bloodkeeper. And her daughter gave birth to another Bloodkeeper and so until–”

“–Until you.” He finished the sentence stroking her cheek as she nodded furrowing with sadness. “So that means…” She nodded again.

“It’s not a coincidence that both my mother and I are Bloodkeepers, I’m the granddaughter of Reyha and Dimitrius, I carry this power because of them. I survived Gaius’ attack because of that.”

“That actually explains a lot.” He pointed out, a thoughtful look in his eyes, analyzing everything that she had told him. “Your psychic powers, your unusual Turning…”

“I know but..” She paused for a moment, like she was trying to compose herself. “But what if I turn like her? Consuming by the darkness? I’ve been having this awful nightmare where I have my hands covered in ashes and I’m so angry, like I want to attack everybody.” She was talking faster, her eyes shining filled with tears and her heartbeat high speed, almost like panicked. “And then it’s what Serafine told me, that she sensed darkness inside me and–”

“Amy, love, please stop for a second and hear me out.” He cupped her cheek, placing soothing circles there as she looked at him. “You are not Reyha. The fact that you descend from her doesn’t mean you are going to be consumed by the dark like her. You are strong. You are the light I never expected to have in my life. You are the one who saved me from my own darkness. Never forget that.”

“But Serafine told me she saw darkness inside me. What if I end up hurting someone, like Lily? Or Kamilah? Or Jax? Or you Adrian? What if those ashes are yours? I couldn’t live without you! I can’t lose you! And I could never forgive myself if something bad happens to you because of me!” The tears started to flood freely on her face and Adrian hugged her as tightly as he could, letting her cry as long as she needed, his arms holding her close and protectively, his hands stroking her back and hair. She pressed herself closer, hugging him almost desperately as the tears fell on his naked shoulder and their legs tangled together, there was no space between them and still seemed not close enough.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise. No matter what I won’t leave you, I swear, Amy.” He kissed her head, leaving his lips there for a long time, her sobs making her body tremble and his heart ache.

“You c-can’t promise that.” Her voice muffled from his shoulder.

“I can. Like you promised me the same thing when you woke up, remember?” He felt the ghost of her smile on his skin for a moment. “And I also can promise you we are going to defeat Reyha.” He separated from her slightly, looking into her still watery eyes. “And that I will help you in any way I can. Dealing with darkness or not. You didn’t abandon me when my own darkness almost consumed me in Paris and I won’t leave you alone. I love you Amy, you don’t have any idea how much.”

“I love you too, Adrian.”

“I don’t care what your dreams are showing you or what Serafine has said, we both know what she has been up to lately.” His tone was angry for a moment. “You are not dark Amy and we are going to be okay, we are going to travel around the world together and maybe find a place in New York or wherever you’d like to move together. If you want to.”

“You want to live with me?” She asked opening her eyes big and a tiny smile blossoming on her lips, even if her face was soaked with tears.

“I want everything with you, love. Forever.” He dried her cheeks, lovingly brushing her skin.

“I want that too.” He rolled to his back and she leaned her head on his chest, hugging him, as his hand caressed her back. They stayed silent for a long time, softly kissing each other now and then, holding each other close.

“So, about this alternative universe…” Adrian said as she snuggled closer and he held her tightly.

“Yeah?” Her voice was still a little husky but her tone more calmed.

“Was I intoxicated? I would never pass on hiring you.” She chuckled and he smiled, glad to be capable of making her laugh for a bit.

“I think it was a jerk version of you. He even told Nicole to show me outside.”

“Outrageous.” She giggled again and kissed his chest, making him give a pleased sigh. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, a lot. Thank you, handsome.” He lifted one of his brows and moved his head to the side, watching her smiling.

“Handsome? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, you can’t be the only one with cute pet names.” She responded softly, finally drifting asleep, feeling his lips on her forehead and his hands holding her.

❣️

[themoguls]

"What Inspires You?" by David Pailin Jr.

What is inspiration anyways? It feels like motivation, but not quite... it seems less defined by our circumstances. The feeling's so fleeting, but when we grasp it, it's exhilarating! There are plenty of things that move us emotionally and physically, but this is a bit more intense. It's our dreams, our goals, but somehow it's not that at all. It's like the bridge between us and our dreams. It's that momentary awareness of the talent it takes to get where we want to be and the realization that we possess it. Maybe everything is inspiration. But if that's true, why don't more people have it, where do we find it, and why is it so important? Those three questions will be the focus of this article as we look to ascertain some of the mystery that is inspiration.

The Uninspired

Admittedly, it's very hard to avoid being self-righteous when you speak about what inspires you, but what about when you aren't inspired by anything? In an effort to gather some perspective, I decided to ask several people what inspired them. Below are some quotes of individuals I interviewed (men and women).

"Contributing to the greater good of humanity and leaving the works a better place if I can help it :)"

"Being surrounded by people who are constantly on the move to better themselves professionally, physically, and personally. I'm competitive and like to measure myself against the best of others. They keep me in check."

"When people know and work towards accomplishing their 'purpose' is the biggest for me. There's something about someone deciding, 'ok, this is what I way to do with my life and then doing it. Nothing is more inspirational than that to me."

"My Family, my kids."

"In so many words, Fulfillment, the ability to look back and say it was done by me. Of course, the first thing that played in my head was "girls and bottles!" lmao. The hood in me is always trying to outshine the calm."

"All the people who did me wrong lol make them regret every screwing u over because all your writings and blog posts can get u closer to you dreams."

"What inspires me is being in a relationship where you are each other's BFF, #1 fan, and dream keepers. Also, what inspires me is making a difference with people and having them be empowered and inspired :-)"

"The most inspiring thing to me is the way the music I truly love...like Michael Jackson or something like that makes me feel...I want to make other people feel like that. Also, the fact that anything is possible... I want to be one of the people that is a testament to that… you know."

"Nothing inspires but myself."

"Idk anymore, man, my drive is gone"

I definitely agreed with some answers more than others, but the last two took made me physically shiver. At first, I had the audacity to think, "how can people feel this?", but thankfully I came to my senses and pondered over. I realized at some point everyone feels this way if they're honest with themselves (if not just keep living). When things are going wrong, and people are hurting, the things that normally inspire become frequent reminders of how far they have fallen. You don't have to be immersed in self-loathing to lose inspiration; sometimes, it's just as simple as giving up. There are times when pure exhaustion and routine sap all the inspiration out of us. Soon the refreshing feeling of creative juices just seems harder to draw out than usual, and sometimes it really is. Without proper grounding, these feelings can spiral out of control, and words similar to the quotes I mentioned above can leave our own mouths. 

In my research, I crossed Kurt Cobain's suicide note. In it, I saw a man who had completely loss his passion for what he once loved. He was so earnest that he felt like a fraud every time he took the stage because he was just going through motions with the audience. He explains that he tried everything to get that feeling back (including drugs & alcohol), but in the end, even his wife and daughter were not enough to draw from. His tragic case certainly isn't the first and sadly won't be the last. This lost inspiration for life isn't a remote as you think, as a staggering amount of American's (11%) rely on anti-depressants to function.

The Ingredients

Isn't it strange that the things that innately inspire us seem almost heavenly? Often times they are the best of man, but even then, it seems... superhuman. Dictionaries define it as a divine influence, but what does that translate to? At the Plutocrats Club, we believe three elements catalyze inspiration.

Lack of Knowledge. Put simply, you can't get inspired by something you know absolutely everything about. Even masters are constantly learning; as the craft itself continues to evolve, the more time they spend with it. Time and innovation make sure that all things progress. This progression fosters doubt, and doubt leads to curiosity, and determined curiosity leads to epiphanies.

Passion. Though you can have epiphanies about subjects that you aren't interested in, it's impossible to get inspiration from them. Here genuine interest is critical to finding inspiration. Inspiration resonates with our very spirit, and if there is no soul in what we are trying to draw inspiration from, we will find ourselves empty-handed.

Wonder. The feeling of admiration, awe, or marvel. Wonder is probably best exemplified when a child goes to Disney World for the first time. Unfortunately, as we get older, it takes more and more to make us wonder. Reality creeps upon us, and we start to lose the wide-eyed view of the world that we had in adolescence. As hard as it is, it's important for us to seek wonder. It encompasses doubt, passion and then adds surprise. Admittedly, it's also the hardest of the three to ascertain because there are few things that adults can categorize as truly wondrous; even fewer stay this way.

It's Importance

Sure we shared who doesn't have inspiration, what it takes to construct it, but why is it important? The truth is so that we can enjoy life. There are "Existors" all around us. You see them at home, at work, and on the subway. They speak only because their job requires it, they have a job only because they need food, they eat only because it's required to live. Just typing that, I felt the monotonous redundancy of that lifestyle weighing in on me. No joy or enjoyment is in anything they do, just basic, logical goal after basic, logical goal. What happens after all goals are achieved? Death? The goal of inspiration is to provoke creation. The creations of men and women at their best are truly emotional experiences. 

After watching your favorite movie, take a serious look at just how many people it took to make it become a reality. At one point, that was just one person's vision! As much as we try to restrain ourselves, we aren't robots. We are full of thoughts, emotions, and illogical mechanisms that need to be explored. Not just for the sake of exploration, but so that our fellow man can use them to the best of their abilities. So I'll ask, what inspires you?

Photography by Demetrius Baker

[chandlerrosen]

♔ — uneasy is the head that wears the crown — ♔ 

introducing: chandler rosen as [ the tomboy ]

name: judith chandler rosen - has been going by chandler since she was six years olds, do not call her judith, i don’t think anyone even knows her name is judith at this point

age & date of birth: twenty-one, april 14, 1998 

gender & pronouns: demigirl, she/they

sexuality: bisexual

fc: diana silvers

character parallels: eve polastri [ killing eve ]; queen anne [ the favourite ]; jo march [ little women ]; jenny mellor [ an education ]; hamlet [ hamlet ]; camille preaker [ sharp objects ]; catherine earnshaw [ wuthering heights ]; scarlett o’hara [ gone with the wind ]; arya stark [ a song of ice and fire ]; donna hayward [ twin peaks ]; willow rosenberg [ buffy the vampire slayer ] 

♔ — life’s but a walking shadow a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. | background — ♔

born in the upper-middle class suburbs of pittsburgh, pennsylvania to two parents who cared not about chandler the person, but rather chandler the reflection of them. they never laid a hand on her, gave her every comfort she could ask for, but they were/are too self-absorbed to really love her like a parent should love their child. 

her mother, aging beauty she was, and former stage starlet in an off-off-broadway production of cat on a hot tin roof, pushed chandler into taking acting classes, first enrolling her at the tender age of four. her feelings wavered towards acting but it wasn’t until her sophomore year of high school, in a production of a midsummer night’s dream, where she feel in love with it. and all because of a girl. 

her name was emily, and chandler thought she pulled the sun in the sky, hell thought she was the sun in the sky. emily was cast as hermia, chandler as demetrius. how fitting — demetrius doesn’t get the girl, and neither did she. nothing bad happened, chandler was just nervous and didn’t know how to show her emotions. sad. 

her role as demetrius started her long journey into tackling male roles, and only male roles, for the simple reason that her high school theatre department didn’t have enough boys to fill all of the required roles. and then she got good at it, and frankly, her mother did not care what role she got as long as it was a prominent one. 

chandler didn’t want to go to alderidge, not really. she liked that it was on the other side of the country, far out of her mother’s grasp, and she liked that it was a smaller, older school. she wanted to study literature, or philosophy, but her mother, of course, pushed her into acting, and only the best of the best would do. so they compromised — at least at alderidge, she could study shakespeare. and then, she got a full ride, and it was the only school she could afford to go to. how serendipitous. 

somewhere around her senior year of high school, her dad got into a lot of financial trouble, but they tried to keep it away from chandler. however, that plan doesn’t quite work when chandler’s mother views her more as a confidante, a vessel to fill her head with poisonous ideas about her husband, rather than a daughter. so chandler knew all about how her father got them into this mess, how he would ruin their lives, hence why she went to alderidge. and also why she never swayed from male roles, because she needed to keep her scholarship and stay in orson’s good graces (which as we all know, she was mayhaps a little too good at doing). 

so now we speak of it. the affair. torrid, passionate, all-consuming. it started one night, she stayed at rehearsals late, going over her lines, and she had gotten a text earlier in the day from her mother, letting her know that the house is in foreclosure. so it rattled her, made her kinda mess up at rehearsals. something unlike her, chandler is a perfectionist, and makes sure she knows all of her lines, so orson knew something was up. 

she didn’t realize he was still there, she thought he had gone home with everyone else. but he didn’t. and with some prodding and kind eyes, chandler poured her heart out to him, and he told her he took her seriously, and she fell in love.

chandler really thought her and orson were in love, were the exception to the rule. she’s a bit dramatic, yes, it comes with the territory. she wanted an all-encompassing, consuming, passionate love, like romeo and juliet. he never manipulated her, forced her to do anything she didn’t want to. except the lying. to her friends, her girlfriend, her peers. of course, he didn’t force her to stay with the scene-stealer, that decision fell to her. she wanted to have her cake and eat it too, but then her cake died.

she lost not one, but two people she was in love with: orson, obviously, and the scene-stealer. she’s going to go through all five stages of grief, maybe at once. she’s an actor, she feels things more strongly than anyone else, and there’s a lot to feel: she’s grieving the loss of a man she should have never been with in the first place, refuses to acknowledge that she should have never been with him, lost someone else she loved because of her actions and lied to them about it, and could potentially get kicked out of school because of this affair. mental!

♔ — stars, hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires | personality — ♔

before orson’s death, chandler was very mild-mannered, very chill, confident but not cocky. definitely tried to give everyone a chance, and very much wanted to make friends! 

now, however, she is like tony hawk: off the rails. angry at the world, will yell at anyone who looks at her funny, will probably punch anyone who says a bad word about orson, her relationship with him, her involvement in his death (there is none but rumors do be spreading), etc. 

used to be way too trusting! literally if you showed her affection in any way, she trusted you (obviously, a mistake in many situations), because she was literally so desperate for attention.

can be like a little bit pretentious in her tastes, but she just wants to talk about literature and gush over books and philosophy and stuff. not like a know-it-all, though if she knows something, she’ll say it. 

weird obsession with being right all the time. this goes with what i said above, but she needs to be right (like factually, and i guess morally too but we all know she isn’t lmao). had been learning to bite her tongue and choose her battles wisely.

perfectionist, is terrified of disappointing anyone, will cry. will, however, also demand that you recognize her when she fixed it.

a weird combination of a petulant child and stoic philosopher. so basically an aries.

[elle-ja-bell]

If Shakespeare was Wolfstar

So I do a lot of Shakespeare, a lot guys, and this last year every time I would work on a new play I would have all this time on my hands when I wasn’t on stage and I would spend it coming up with, what I like to call “If Shakespeare was Wolfstar” headcannons. I’m not sure I’ll ever have the time (or let's be real motivation) to write any of these into full blown stories but I thought I’d post them here as a series of headcannons. So enjoy the madness. This got out of hand.

“If A Midsummer Night’s Dream was Wolfstar”

Cast list:

Sirius as Demetrius

Remus as Helena

Lily as Lysander

James as Hermia

Marlene as Titania

Dorcus as Oberon

Snape as Puck

Peter as Bottom

Setting: London, 1980s sometime. Let’s call it a magic!AU because they’re a bit older and the whole war thing would get in our way.

- So James and Sirius used to have a thing, you know a “we sleep together sometimes and make out at parties” thing. A friends with benefits thing. But as is the case with such things, one party, I.e. Sirius, got too attached, thinking it was love, while the other (James) thought it was strictly causal based, mostly, on his continued and very vocal pursuit of Lily.

- Everything changes when Lily starts to give James the time of day. They start dating and James ends things with Sirius in the interest of monogamy.

-Sirius knows it’s not going to last, but instead of hounding James about it he decides to play it cool, let him “get it out of his system” so to speak.

- Then Sirius makes out with Remus at a party and Remus, who’s been arse over tit for him for years, lets him. They start to date casually but Sirius is really just trying to make James jealous.

- But James and Lily are in love, the real kind, the soulmate kind, and the two of them decide to elope. So they head off to Bath (or wherever people go to elope to in wizarding Britain).

-Sirius realizes his plan did not work, dumps Remus, and runs off after James to stop him.

-And Remus? Poor, besotted, self effacing, Remus runs after him and tries to get him to see reason. “Lily has always been it for James. He doesn’t love you like that, but I do. I’m here, and I want you.” That sort of thing but Sirius is having none of it and keeps putting him off.

-*insert road trip montage because I know they’re wizards but I want cars in my story*

- So with our hero’s off on their adventure it’s *drum roll please* Sub Plot Time!!

- So while James, Sirius, and Remus massively cock up their loves lives they are not the only fools in love.

- Marlene and Dorcas are the ultimate on again/off again lesbian power couple, and this last epic row and subsequent break up had been a doozy. In her fury Dorcas enlists the help of Severus Snape, potion master extroidinare and all around garbage human. She asks him to give her a love potion that will, you guessed it, cause Marlene to fall in love with the first person she sees. (I’m all about that textual accuracy)

- Snape being the general scummy person that he is agrees, for a fee, and having heard tell of Lily’s pending elopement sees an opportunity to use the potion to his advantage and move in on his long time crush before it’s too late.

- However, both these fools coll fuck up their seemingly fool proof plans. Marlene wakes up and instead of seeing Dorcas first and comically fawning over her as the other girl planned she sees Peter, who has been rudely left out of all of his friends antics, and things rapidly get out of hand.

- Snape manages even worse. Somehow, let’s call it the magic of theater, Sirius and Remus catch up with James and Lily in an inn they have stopped in for the night and James is like “My friends! I am so happy to have you here to share in this joyous moment.” Because he’s an idiot, and Sirius and Remus go along with it because they too are idiots.

- Snape, having remembered he is a wizard and thus can use magic to travel, arrives later that night in the same inn and sets his dastardly plan into action. He spikes Lily’s drink but doesn’t notice as Sirius steals it and takes a large swallow.

- They go to bed, Sirius insisting that because it’s the night before their wedding Lily and James cannot share so instead he shares with James while Remus shares with Lily. No one is happy about this but Sirius get his way and while they sleep the potion starts to work. However, Snape has to now find a way to make sure he’s the first person Lily sees when she wakes and while trying to sneak into her room he manages to get himself kicked out by the landlady who accuses him or being a pervert and a criminal and threatens to call the police.

- So it happens that when Lily wakes up Remus is the first person she sees and immediately she is besotted. Remus himself awake to Lily wrapping herself around him and trying to kiss every inch of his face. Panicking he disentangles himself and rushes into James and Sirius’s room and in so doing also manages to be the person Sirius sees upon waking,

- Thus the confusion begins. Remus, who has spent his whole life in love with someone who didn’t want him back, is now fighting off both Lily and Sirius’s rather aggressive attentions and does not know what to do with himself.

-Conversely, James, who has always been desired by everyone now finds himself scorned by both his former lover and his fiancé in favor of his bookish best friend. This awakes a here to for unknown jealously in James that is both ridiculous and all consuming.

- Here we have the requisite scenes of both Lily and Sirius trying to win an increasing frazzled Remus’ love, and James challenging Remus to a duel and not taking no for an answer even when Remus insists that he really doesn’t want to fight James and more to to the point James can have both Sirius and Lily at this point if only everyone will leave him alone.

- All interspersed with scenes of a bewildered, but certainly not complaining, Peter enjoying Marlene’s affections, while an increasingly livid Dorcas tracks down Snape outside the inn where the pervious plot line is occurring and sufficiently terrifies him into providing her with the antidote.

- Finally Dorcas finishes what she began and administers the antidote to Lily and Sirius before returning back to London to deal with Marlene.

- Now free from any magical influences the four of them are left to deal with the fall out of their adventure. Lily, somehow, finds it massively hilarious relentlessly teasing James for his jealousy. Remus, however, is far from amused. His nerves and heart are in tatters and after delivering, what I’m sure would be a brilliant speech (if I could ever be arsed to write it), about his worth as a person and new resolve to not be stepped all over by people who are supposed to love him (read: James and Sirius) he storms out and back to London.

- Chastened and ashamed Sirius rushes after him to try and mend what damage he can. James and Lily decide that perhaps they had rushed into this marriage and return to London unwed.

-Back in London Marlene and Dorcas have finally made up after another massive row and are back together. Lily and James have talked to their parents about wanting to get married and are planning a wedding for the following summer. Sirius, for his part, has realized that what he had with Remus is what he wanted all along and has made it his mission to prove to the other man that he is worthy of second chance. Remus is starting to come around to the idea but he’ll not giving in too quickly, he’s enjoying making Sirius work for it.

I'm quite fond of this and maybe I'll do another at some point.

[adorkablephil]

Fic: The Roles We Play (2)

Title: The Roles We Play Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester work together as voice actors for BBC radio dramas in the late 1930s, but slowly begin to develop “inappropriate” feelings for each other Rating: G Word Count: 2,885 (this chapter) Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Historical AU, 1930s, BBC, Radio, Actors AU, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Love Letters, Period-Typical Homophobia, Closeted Gay Characters, Past Character Death, Grief, Angst Author’s Note: This fic was inspired by the @phanfichallenge 20k History Challenge. See note on first chapter regarding historical inaccuracies. See notes at end of this chapter for potentially helpful info about the plays mentioned. Many many many abject thanks to India for all her help with this chapter! (Not to mention all her previously unacknowledged help with "The Body Electric"!)

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[ All Chapters Masterlist ]

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28 October 1938

Philip Lester was everything Dan wished he could be, from head to toe. His hair, though, was what Dan envied most. It was black and smooth, slicked straight back with Brylcreem so that he resembled that American actor—what was his name? Clark Gable. His facial features didn't resemble Clark Gable, though, because Philip had a more aristocratic face, with his elegant forehead, narrow nose, high cheekbones, and delicate lips.

Dan’s hair never got that sleek Clark Gable look like Philip Lester’s, no matter how much Brylcreem he used. The best he could do was a sort of Danny Kaye set of waves. And, just in life in general, Dan would really prefer to be a suave Clark Gable than a slapstick Danny Kaye.

He’d seen photos of Philip Lester before, of course, but actually being in the same room with the famous radio actor was a little overwhelming. The whole BBC situation felt overwhelming, but being in the same room with a celebrity he’d listened to and admired for so long made it much more so.

So, ironically, he chose a chair close beside Philip’s, because he knew that it would give him the least opportunity to stare. If he sat immediately beside the man, he would have to turn his head sharply to look at that sleek black hair, that pale skin, those striking pale eyes behind the man’s trademark spectacles—but if he sat further away, he might possibly find himself staring without realizing it, which would be utterly humiliating.

He looked at the script in his hands: A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He had read it in college, and had even performed it once in the West End, though he’d only gotten the role of one of the “Rude Mechanicals,” rather than Puck as he’d hoped. In this radio production, he would play Lysander, while Phil—with his comparatively lower voice and better established place in the repertory group—had the role of Oberon. He had fewer lines than Lysander, but more gravitas.

Dan pouted that he still didn’t get to play Puck.

“Hello,” Philip Lester said from beside him, making Dan jump. He turned to look at the other man, and maybe sitting beside him had been a mistake, because now he had to look at that handsome face from very close up. Philip was smiling and holding out his hand. “I’m Phil. You’re Daniel Howell, right? Playing Lysander?”

Dan nodded dumbly, unable to force out a single word. This was the voice Dan had heard through the radio in his living room for the past three years, but Philip—Phil—sounded different in person. He sounded less formal, more relaxed, which only made sense. Up until a few seconds ago, Dan had only ever heard that voice in professional radio broadcasts of dramatic productions.

Apparently unperturbed by Dan’s stunned silence, Phil shook Dan’s hand warmly, and Dan noticed how delicate and smooth Phil’s hand was. Dan’s own hands were soft—he’d never had to do any serious work—but Phil’s hand was pale and silky and … why was he obsessing over the texture of the man’s hand?

Dan shook his head to try to clear it and finally spoke. “Yes. Lysander. Right. Hello.” A staccato combination of words that were vaguely appropriate to the situation. Better than he would have expected of himself if asked for a prediction, if he was honest. Then he managed to add with a bit more composure, “Please, call me Dan.”

“Welcome to the BBC’s drama repertory company, Dan,” Phil said, squeezing Dan’s hand before letting it go. Or had Dan imagined that little squeeze at the end?

This hero worship was far, far out of control. He wouldn’t be able to tell Dora anything about the day’s events if all he was able to remember was the smoothness of Philip Lester’s hair and the silken skin of his hand.

Phil seemed to still be talking. Dan tried to listen and not just stare. “I assume we’ll be working quite a bit together. I hear they’re considering doing Oedipus next … just for a bit of light comedy after this weighty content, you know?”

A joke. Right, a joke! Dan laughed, maybe a bit more than was really deserved, but the famous Philip Lester was joking with him! And yes, they would most likely be working together quite a bit as long as they were both part of the repertory, so … Dan would need to get over this hero worship as soon as possible. It would make a working relationship nearly impossible if he was tripping over himself every time his co-worker smiled or made the slightest witticism.

Dan tried to think of something to say, but hadn’t come up with anything before the director called them all to order with a loud clearing of the throat. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we start with Theseus and Hippolyta, but you young lovers be ready to enter the scene.” That meant Dan, or rather, Lysander: one of the young lovers.

Dan sat a bit straighter in his chair. He had a fair amount of experience with stage acting, but this was his first actual radio acting job. They’d liked his audition enough to make him a conditional member of the repertory company, but he still needed to prove himself, and this was his first rehearsal.

Phil patted him on the shoulder and said in a low voice, “Don’t worry. You’ll do wonderfully. And, really, Lysander is just a sap, so if you don’t mind pretending to have a lower IQ than you have in actuality, you shouldn’t have any problems.”

Dan laughed again, this time with a bit less hysteria in it and a lot more blushing. Phil Lester had just called him intelligent. Or, at least, more intelligent than Lysander. Which, to be fair, didn’t set the bar all that high. But still … a compliment from Philip Lester. Phil.

Dan smiled at him and said, “Thanks. Oberon should be fun for you.”

Phil leaned close and confided in a hushed whisper, “Just between you and me, I’d rather be playing Puck.”

That surprised a genuine laugh out of Dan, since he’d felt the same way himself. “Me too!” he whispered back, but the director had lost patience.

“Mr. Howell, I understand that you are new to our proceedings, but we really do need a bit more peace and quiet to prepare to present the best auditory theatrical experience possible to our audience, as they rely upon us for edifying entertainment.” Dan wasn’t sure how edifying A Midsummer Night’s Dream was, but he supposed any Shakespeare was good Shakespeare. Then he remembered Titus Andronicus and grimaced. But he straightened his spine, gave the play’s director a serious nod and tried to keep his attention on his task instead of on the man sitting beside him.

“Sorry,” he heard Phil murmur. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I’ll let you focus.” Dan gave him a quick smile and tried not to be dazzled by the swirling pale colors of Phil Lester’s eyes behind the spectacles. Okay, no, the colors weren’t actually swirling. His irises just contained so many colors at once that they seemed almost like the marbled endpapers of an expensive book, including that bit of gold leaf that would make it most expensive.

Dan looked away and stared fixedly at the script in his lap, paging forward to see where his first lines appeared, and they began their first read-through of the script. When Dan got to the point where he read, “You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him,” he heard Phil snort beside him and felt proud that he’d made the other man laugh with his delivery of the comedic line. In fact, Dan had quite a few lines in the first scene of the play, whereas Phil’s character would not appear to commit his jealous mischief until the second act.

The group spent a few hours going through the first two acts of the play, with much commentary and many suggestions from the play’s director, Drury. Unfortunately, Drury seemed to have taken a bit of a dislike to Dan after his earlier joking with Phil, so Dan tried to stay as sober and solemn as possible for the rest of the proceedings.

******

When the rehearsal had finished, Phil immediately apologized with what appeared to be honest regret. “I’m sorry I distracted you so much! I didn’t mean to make your first day more difficult. I just wanted to make you feel welcome, but I fear our giggling antics may have annoyed Drury.”

Dan loved that Phil made it sound like they were schoolboys caught being naughty together.

Phil clapped Dan on the shoulder in a friendly manner and said, “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to speak to Drury before he leaves.” Phil smiled, then turned and walked to the director, who began conversing with him like an old friend. It was the first time Dan had ever seen Drury smile. Apparently he liked Phil. Who wouldn’t like Phil? It wasn’t merely Dan’s hero worship—Phil was just a likable guy.

Now that they’d been released from their duties for the day, the actors cleared the room pretty quickly, everyone bidding each other hasty goodbyes, but Dan found himself lingering conspicuously near the door while Phil spoke with Drury. Now that they were standing, Dan could see that Phil’s suit, though not particularly fashionable, was obviously expensive, very well-tailored and suited to his tall, slim frame. It made Dan aware of the comparative cheapness of his own suit. He followed current fashion trends avidly but, unfortunately, did not have the financial means to indulge his interest. It appeared that Phil Lester found himself in the opposite situation: financial means, but no taste. Dan quickly chided himself for the thought. It felt somehow disloyal, even though he’d only met the man a few hours ago.

Loitering near the door and watching surreptitiously, Dan saw Phil turn from his conversation with Drury, obvious intending to leave, but when Phil noticed Dan near the door, his expression showed first surprise, then pleasure. Dan startled, and his insides turned to jelly.

“You waited!” Phil exclaimed happily, walking to where Dan stood trying to look relaxed in his embarrassing cheap suit.

“Oh,” Dan replied, trying to sound casual, “I just … I wasn’t in a hurry, so I thought I’d wait, just to tell you what an honor it was to work with you today.”

Phil’s pale cheeks blushed, and Dan wondered how the man could still be humble enough to take such a simple compliment so much to heart. Surely he had encounters with admirers often enough, especially at BBC events. Why should Dan’s words carry so much weight?

“It was an honor to work with you, too, Dan,” Phil replied, holding out his hand to shake again.

Dan started to reach out, then shored up his confidence and suggested, “I thought perhaps we could take the lift down together.”

Phil let his hand fall and nodded with a smile. “We should be working together quite a lot in future, so it would be nice to know you as more than just the ridiculously besotted Lysander.” They began walking together toward the lift.

“You believe they’ll take me on as a permanent member of the repertory company?” Dan could hear the eagerness in his own voice, but he didn’t mind letting Phil know how high his hopes were.

Phil’s lips curved just slightly and he shook his head in disbelief. “You really don’t know how good you are, do you? I would assume after your work onstage in the West End, you would have more belief in your acting ability. Surely you appreciate your own talent?”

Dan pressed the button for the lift and avoided eye contact, hunching his shoulders slightly in embarrassment. “Well, radio differs from the stage, since we won’t have an audience’s immediate reaction to inspire and inform our performance. But also … I’m a bit of a perfectionist in my work. I study my lines obsessively, but I still never fully live up to how I want to embody a character. I perhaps set myself rather unrealistic standards, and so I just … it’s like I’m always failing myself.”

Phil put his hand on Dan’s shoulder and looked into his eyes, face serious. “You can’t go through life feeling like you’re always failing. You’ll never be happy.”

The lift arrived and they both got in, Dan regretting the need to pull away from Phil’s hand. Even through the fabric of his suit jacket, he’d been able to feel Phil’s warmth. But maybe that was just the man’s personality, and not his body temperature.

“I’m not a very cheerful or happy person, to be honest,” Dan admitted, wondering why he was opening up to Phil more than he had to anyone, even Dora.

The lift dinged when they reached the lobby, and they walked out into the evening’s sunset together. “You need to find a way to change that, Dan. You really do. You deserve to be happy.”

Dan tried to smile, but he could feel that the muscles of his face were too tense for it to possibly look natural. “I try.”

Phil looked around. “Hey, would you like to grab a drink before heading home? There’s a pub across the road.” Dan hesitated, but Phil cajoled, “Come on. Consider it part of the process of trying to be happier. Wouldn’t it cheer you to have a drink with the famous Mr. Philip Lester?” He grinned at Dan, who laughed.

“I can’t believe you just said that. Do you really think of yourself that way?” Okay, so yes, that’s the way Dan thought of him, but he’d been surprised to hear Phil say it.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Not for a second. But it’s how they parade me around at the BBC events, you know.” He shrugged dismissively. “But would you be interested in having a drink with just some guy named Phil?” He smiled and looked ridiculously charming. The sunset was glinting pink and orange off his glasses so that Dan couldn’t see his eyes. In the pub, the lighting would be better.

He knew he should go home to phone his parents and Dora to tell them how the first day’s rehearsal had gone, but instead Dan found himself nodding.

“Excellent!” Phil exclaimed, and lightly pressed a hand to Dan’s lower back to guide him across the street and into the pub.

******

“I’ll have a Pimm’s with ginger ale,” Phil told the bartender, “and my friend will have…” He glanced questioningly at Dan.

“Um,” Dan hesitated. He didn’t drink often, except tea and coffee. “I guess a gin and tonic?” The bartender nodded and got to work.

Dan and Phil seated themselves on adjoining barstools and their conversation lapsed for a moment.

“So…” Dan began, then realized with a sudden chill of panic that he had no idea what to talk about while relaxing in a pub with Philip Lester the rich, famous, well-dressed radio star. “Um … do you follow cricket?” Dan immediately wanted to bang his head against the bar.

Phil blinked in surprise. “Er, no. Not really. Are you an enthusiast of any particular team?”

“Not remotely,” Dan sighed in relief. “Thank the lord you said no, or I would have had to pretend I knew something about the sport.”

“Then why did you ask?” Phil looked at Dan with amused curiosity.

Dan shrugged and looked away, stirring the drink the bartender had just placed in front of him. “Just … trying to make conversation.” He took a sip, and found the drink bitter, which suited his personal style. He thought of himself as a rather bitter person, not easily prone to the lighter emotions. He eyed Phil’s sweet, fizzy drink and thought it appropriate, as well. “I wasn’t sure what you would want to talk about,” he admitted with chagrin.

“Well, definitely not sport!” Phil laughed. “Sport is the absolute worst! I hated it in school, so why would I want to watch other people do it now that I’m not forced to do it myself?”

“I know! Exactly!” Dan enthused. He’d never heard his own opinion stated so succinctly before.

“So what do you like to do, if you don’t enjoy watching grown men dressed in white play childhood games we both loathe?”

“I … er … I like music,” Dan offered hesitantly. “All kinds. And I play the piano a bit.”

“Really?” Phil looked suddenly very interested. “I would dearly like to play an instrument. My parents hired tutor after tutor, trying to teach me one instrument after another, but I had no talent at any of them.”

“Oh, I don’t have much talent, either,” Dan insisted. “I don’t play well at all. But I do enjoy it.”

Phil took a sip of his sweet drink and shook his head gently. “You have so little faith in yourself,” he chided Dan gently.

Dan gazed into those pale eyes and realized that Phil Lester had more faith in him than he had in himself. It was an odd feeling. But he liked it more than he should.

*******

Author’s Play Notes: In case you aren’t a literature/theater nerd, I thought I’d explain some of the references in this chapter. In particular, I thought I’d point out a few notes about A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Oberon is the powerful but jealous king of the fairies who asks his clever, mischievous fairy servant Puck to pull a prank which goes awry. As a result of this prank, four rather annoying young humans (Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena) get duped into all kinds of silly romantic hijinks in the woods. The “Rude Mechanicals” are just some low class workmen who provide some slapstick comedy. Oh, and about the other plays mentioned in the chapter: Oedipus Rex is a classic Greek tragedy (hence Phil ironically joking that it would be light fare after something like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which is pure fluff); and Titus Andronicus was Shakespeare’s first play, which most people agree was bad (also gross), which is why Dan grimaces after thinking that all Shakespeare is good.

******

[ Continue to Chapter 3 ]

[beautiful-bau-beau]

Almost Something There

Tale As Old As Time Masterlist

A big apology to all those out there who have been expecting the next part of this and had to deal with my hiatus. I have been struggling for a long time trying to be constant and focused but now that I’m on a break I was struck with inspiration. I love all of you guys. ---

A pounding sensation pulsating throughout your brain awoke you from your slumber. The sheets you laid in felt extremely soft this morning, until you decided to move, moaning in discomfort once your arm hit the mattress. You hadn’t noticed someone was speaking until the voice stopped at your whine, shortly resuming.  You realized it was Spencer, and memories from the previous day flooded your head. You decided to stay quiet for a moment, and listen to him.

"Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind and therefore..."

"And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." You finished, realizing that you had given away the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping the past few minutes. You decided to open your eyes, struggling to sit up. Spencer immediately rushed to your side, gently helping you move and placing a few pillows behind you. You sank back into the pillows and scanned the room, observing Henry on the end of your bed. He must have been listening to Spencer, even if the reading may have been a bit too difficult for him to understand.

“How do you feel?” The man asked, great concern reflecting inn his eyes. His gaze started you slightly, as well as his question. Rarely were you ever looked at with pity, let alone concern. Although Derek, JJ, Aaron, and Savannah were companions of yours, you knew deep down in your heart they knew you deserved the fate you were living through.

“I am feeling better, thank you Spencer. I’m surprised you’re still here. I would have imagined that with my form being weakened you would have left while you could.” He shook his head, and your heart fluttered for a moment.

“I could not leave you.” He expressed sincerely. “A deal is a deal, remember?” You could feel your heart sink into your stomach, briefly shutting your eyes for moment and feigning a reaction to pain in your arm. The only reason Spencer was still here is because he thought you would hurt his mother. He only remained out of fear.

“Are you not continuing?” You pondered, trying to change the subject. Spencer’s face morphed into a confused expression. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” You gestured to Henry you looked eager to resume the story.

“You know Shakespeare?” Spencer questioned, to which you almost let out a dry chuckle.

“I had an expensive education.” You deadpanned, moving to gesture all around the room.

“Romeo and Juliet is my favorite play. I think Henry’s a little young for all the romance though.” His voice dropped at the second sentence, smiling a bit.

“So you believed Hermia, Lysander, Demetrius, Helena, even Bottom and Titania were more appropriate?” You chuckled. “Romeo and Juliet? What a surprise. I never figured you for a romantic sap. All the heartache and pining…. There are a million other written works that are more pleasant to read."

Spencer looked shocked to say the least. “I would figure you would enjoy it. Where I live women do not read, but they still enjoy the tale.”

“Just because I am a woman does not mean I enjoy all the “even though I just met you I think I love you, even if you killed my cousin because he killed your friend and our families both hate each other” moments. Their death could have prevented if she had just decided to run away with Romeo before her wedding to Paris, or if he was not a complete imbecile. Must I point out that the dead do not have flushed cheeks? Or crimson lips? Or if he had even waited a few moments more…” You huffed after your rant, looking up to find Spencer’s lips twitching almost in a smile, causing your cheeks to heat up.

“Well then, what do you recommend?” He asked. You shrugged, looking around for a moment, trying to think. You hadn’t read much in a while, mostly destroying items and being depressed.

“King Arthur and the Round Table.” You suggested. “Filled with knights, men, swords and things such as that.”

“Mmm. Guinevere and Lancelot.” He suggested, and you waved your hand in dismissal, claiming it was just a subplot to the story to satisfy the needs of others. “Still... it's a romance.” He teased, watching you suppress a smile as you rolled your eyes.

“So you like to read then?” You inquired. “I thought the men in Villanueve were all hunters?”

“Just because I am a man does not mean I enjoy killing animals and then bragging about it relentlessly or any other brutish thing the morons I grew up with do.” His tone was sharp, annoyance clearly evident.

“Touché, Spencer. If you would be so kind as to help me stand, I believe I have a surprise for you.” - “It's wonderful.” Spencer breathed out in awe. You had led him to the castle library where millions upon millions of books lie on shelves and tables. “I’ve never seen so many books in my entire life! I cannot believe you have all of these fantastic stories at your fingertips!” Have you really read every one of these books?”

“Well, not all of them. Some of them are in Greek.” You mumbled, fiddling around with your dress as you watched him spin around in disbelief. “If you like it so much, consider it yours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Have you known me to joke in our time together?” He ran around trying to decide which one to read first and you took it as a cue to take your leave. -

(Third person POV)

Diana shivered violently in the cold, trying for the umpteenth time to break free from the ropes confining her. She could not die while her son was in danger, it was not possible. She refused.

“Help me please!” She cried, even if it was futile. Her plan on trying to break free became more hopeless with each moment that passed. Tears streamed down her face, and she could feel her fatigue weighing down on her like a boulder.

“Spencer…” She whispered, shutting her eyes and thinking of her little boy. The gaps he used to possess in his teeth and his perpetually long locks, changing into the image of him now, a fine young man that anyone would be lucky to spend the rest of their lives with. She was lucky to spend every day with him. He was the perfect son. Too perfect to be her son and have to take care of an old bat like her. Maybe it would be better if she was gone. Then Spencer wouldn’t have to worry about her constantly and he would have enough time to find a wife, start a family of his own, or do whatever else he pleased. As long as he was happy, she would be too.

She could feel herself drifting away when she heard a voice call out her name. She could barely open her eyes to see who it was, but when she did, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Who are you?” Diana's voice barely audible. She was quieted by a shush.

“Go to sleep Diana. All will be well in the morning.” -

@phoenixwwitch @totallynotn3rdy95 @cool-bluemoon @amarislestrange @rogerthatsgt @marieannfandoms @bekaperk  @charcoalblack-ish @dontshootmespence @mariadrinaa @charcoalblack-ish @queenelsaschyler @drunk-fairytale

[peaches-of-1]

Theatre Girl: Prologue 1

Theatre Boy: Prologue 1

Theatre They: Prologue 1

So those ^ are basically the same stories. Only things changed are pronouns and maybe descriptions here and there. I’ve been trying to keep most of my reactions gender neutral and have been wanting to do gender specific pieces for a while. I think I finally have the motivation and gumption to put the work in to make my blog more accessible for all genders.

Anyways, here goes!

Today was your second week of shows, and everyone was excited about the “special guests” Director Edith told you all about. You had been doing plays and musicals here for a while now, so you were pretty sure it was a backer or some other financial person you’d have to schmooze with after the show.

You went straight from the cafeteria to the auditorium with some of the others who were in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” with you. Luckily enough for you, your part was as Puck with a comfortable amount of lines.

At least you guys were able to get a slightly more modern version of it. That is, fairies spoke the old text while everyone else spoke normally. Putting on your stage makeup was your favorite part. You liked to take your time with it, so you always showed up about 30 minutes before call since time moved really fast after a while. Your face would be turned beautiful within the span of two hours. A little goofy since you were the Jester of the play, but you loved it.

That’s what drew you to theatre in the first place. How extreme yet simple everything was. It helped your confidence and you had found a second family of sorts. Your theatre teacher in high school warned you about not majoring it unless it was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. You weren’t sure, so you decided to minor in it instead.

Not only were you allowed to overdo it a bit on the highlighter, but actual glitter was placed on your cheeks since the rhinestones kept falling off. You couldn’t keep your hands away from your face, either. So emerald glitter stuck to waterproof hairspray it was!

You got this part in due in part to your bouncy attitude, and although you weren’t a gymnastics hero, you were reasonably flexible and could do a few mid-air splits and Oberon was the most muscular hunk of human and former cheerleader. He had no problem lifting you up.

You two even tried to incorporate more spectacle into your interactions which Director Edith liked. Yellow lipstick made your lips pop and wasn’t distracting thanks to the yellow, blue, and pink flowers on your costume. Your finger nails were pink too, not baby pink.

As for your costume, your outfit was a black and blue corset with a collar connected to it since they didn’t want your boobs to accidentally slide out during a lift or something. Lots of leaves and flowers tucked into your ribbon leggings and no shoes. Though, they always had a pair of lace-up flats in case you wanted them.

That meant you had to paint your toe nails too. They were the same pink as your fingers. The costumer put on your horns after making your shoulders and part of your arms blue and yellow in a sort of ombre way. To say the least, showers took a long time after the show. It was mostly upper arm and right before your hands.

Then you sat and waited for warm ups, singing along to the assortment of music that played from the speakers. One of the leading ladies, the one playing Helena, came up with a list of music we’d all enjoy and gave it to the sound guy. Being the weirdo you were, you chose 3/5 of your songs to be k-pop. Bunch of hype songs. Someone else chose German Reggae, though, so you weren’t the only weird one.

Azar, who played Cobweb, was running late and he played multiple characters, so that wasn’t great. Yoongi Oberon nudged you since you were staring off into space again. It had become a thing in the cast to call everyone by their first name and their character’s name.

“You know you could at least be stretching, Puck (Y/N)*.” He gave you his gummy smile and booped your nose. “The more you do, the better things will go and the less you’ll sprain.”

You shook your head, “Oh, yeah. I meant to, but I kinda sorta forgot why I was walking over here. What was that video we followed last week? I wanna do that again.”

He got his phone and started searching, “That was one of our best shows, wasn’t it? Here it is.”

After following the 3 minute video, it was time for everyone to get on stage. The music stopped and a figure caught your eye. You didn’t think much about it until your Stage Manager and local pyro Seulgi introduced him as the head of some super important theatre league.

“This is the man who keeps things running in this whole section of the country. So he’s super important, and it’s our job to give him a good show.” She turned and presented him. “Everyone say hi to Kim Namjoon!”

The cast clapped, cheered and waved. He smiled a smile that captivated you and almost made your forget to breathe. Not something you could afford to waste in a corset. Those dimples were so nice.

Namjoon waved back, “You can all call me Mr. Kim. I’m the newest and youngest person to hold this position. My job is to make sure all the people are doing their jobs right by making theatre an inviting and exciting place for the community.” His coffee colored eyes scanned everyone.

They seemed to linger on you, but that was probably a figment of your imagination or he really liked your costume. It was a great costume.

“As far as I can see, they are. The costumes look great. The set looks great. I can’t wait to see them in action and talk to you after the show. Fighting!”

Everyone clapped. Seulgi started talking again, “Thank you, Mr. Kim. Alright, you guys, time to become spiderman!” She leaned to one side and the stretching began. You ended with a shakedown and a cheer.

You stood alone in the spotlight, center stage. All the other actors were off into the wings waiting for you to say the final line, probably mouthing it with you. These had to be the most difficult lines you had to learn, but you were so glad to finally get to this point.

Mr. Kim was near the middle. You knew because of the reserved sign that had been placed there today. You were eager to see his face again.

“...And, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long. Else the Puck a liar call. So good night unto you all. Give me your hands if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” You winked, threw some more glitter and music played.

A silvery green path led you offstage. Once you were off, it was a blackout and the jaunty tune ended. Everyone started clapping. Music started again and everyone took their bows. Hoseok Lysander, finally got to joke around a bit as he spun his Zendaya Hermia into a dip and kiss her cheek. Jimin Demetrius laughed as his Helena did the same to him.

Then everyone held hands and did their final bows, motion to the audience since there was no one in the pit and then to the sound booth. Then off to the meet and greet. Because this show brought in a lot of kids, you were able to keep your costumes on.

After the meet and greet, the cast got undressed and sat in the front rows of the audience while Mr. Kim stood on stage. He asked questions about our experience from set building to stage. A lot of the first-timers were nervous to speak, but you had done this enough times to be chill about it.

He directed quite a few questions directly to you since you were sort of a lead in the show for once. “What was the most difficult aspect for you?”

“Well, the lifts for one, but I had Yoongi here to catch me if I fell.” You pat his thigh.

Yoongi joked, “If not catch, then fall with you.” making everyone giggle.

“Now, this is a question that I like to ask and you can go into detail if you want. It’s completely fine if you don’t want to. Were there any show romances?”

Everyone looked at each other. There actually weren’t any. Zendaya spoke up, “Well, no, but I’m sure everyone in the cast wants to get with Jimin.”

...She wasn’t wrong and so everyone giggled. Jimin blushed and hid his face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Jimin wasn’t a flirt, but he was just too darn cute. He liked holding hands and was a very touchy person. It was your first time working with him and he was top 5.

“Any questions for me?” Mr. Kim asked.

Hobi giggled and raised his hand, “I’m sure the girls wanna know if you’re gay or not.”

Claire added, “Also, how old are you? Cuz, like you look really young and really attractive.” She had no filter.

Mr. Kim blushed and bit his lip, looking down for a moment, “I’m attracted to someone’s heart, not their body or what’s in their pants. I’m 23, and before you ask, I am single.”

“Is that an offer?” she flirted, raising an eyebrow and leaning in.

“Maybe, but not to you.” He made eye contact with you and winked.

Your eyes got wide and you started blushing, trying not to laugh. No one flirted with you. What the heck?

He laughed. It was a joke. “Anyways, I very much enjoyed the show, but I won’t keep you here any longer.”

Then he sent everyone home to gt some rest before tomorrow’s show. Well, everyone was going out to eat and probably party seeing it was a Friday night. You, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Zendaya were going to get some Panda Express and some drinks. You grabbed your bag when Mr. Kim approached you.

He put his hand on your upper back, “Miss Puck, you did a fantastic job up there. I can say that, without a doubt, you are the best I have ever seen in that role.”

You laughed, “You can call me (Y/N), Mr. Kim.”

“And you can call me Namjoon, Miss Puck. But really, you were great. I hope I get to see great things from you in the future.” He handed you a business card. “If you need help with any of it, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

He left, taking a few lollipops from his jacket pocket and handed them to you. Told you to share them, and left. Was he flirting with you? Did you flirt back? If so, it was a complete accident. You didn’t know how to.

“Hey, (Y/N), hurry up. Uber is outside!” Hobi called. “Jimin’s coming with us!”

You tucked the card into your back pocket and joined your cast mates. Everyone made sure they had wiped off enough makeup to be considered normal, and you admitted that you still had your blue on. Your very old hoodie covered most of it, though.

Author’s Notes:

*Puck is used like an adjective, so that’s why it is first for MC. Just felt more comfortable too.

So, the course is set! Time to go change pronouns and stuff. Please let me know if I ever miss any or do the wrong ones in the other versions!

Character Profiles:

Namjoon | Hoseok | Jimin | Yoongi

[wish4youff]

06 ~ Not Knowing

King

The tenderness in my shoulders and arms disappeared, the cold water eventually causing everything to go numb the longer I stood there. My eyes closed tightly as if I was escaping something by blocking out the image of it. Which may be true considering the fact I was afraid to see the blue veins in my body popping up from the lack of heat it was now receiving. I didn’t want to face the reality that for the third time I had cheated death. My ego should be on a power booster right now, but instead I was more terrified than thrilled. Scared of the possibilities of the next time this challenge presented itself I wouldn’t win. Slamming my hand down on the faucet, the chilling sensation stopped in a matter of seconds. Making me miss it, weirdly enough. Opening the glass door of the shower, I avoided the mirror in front of me. Reaching I grabbed the white towel; wrapping it around my lower half before walking into the bedroom of my suite at Loews Regency. My mind wondered throughout the time I dressed myself in the black Gucci slacks which was paired with a long sleeve black Polo shirt. I dropped some argan oil in my hands before rubbed it through my hair, all awhile I contemplated on my next move. I hate New York, I do. Yet, I find myself here for business and personal visits far too much for my likening.

Fully dressed I headed to the door of the door of my Grand Executive Suite, dropping my room key, phone, and wallet in the designated pockets. The doorman bid me a goodbye once downstairs, politely nodding his head in my direction and thankfully I could master up enough kindness in my soul to acknowledge and wish the same upon him.  The driver of a black Tahoe presented himself to me not a second later, saying the same-ole’ paid greeting before opening the back door of the truck and allowing me to adjust myself inside before closing it and walking back to his side. It took a matter of seconds to pull off into the early afternoon traffic of Midtown, New York.

“Vitale!” The sound of my name, last and probably favorable to the public, caused me to look up and come face to face with Ibrahim. Entering completely into the building from the pat down and search. My credentials got me this far; I shouldn’t be surprised he knew I had arrived. The smile and excitement told me he was genuinely happy to see me. That felt good especially in this business. You never know who’s real and fake. I keep those around me that I’ve known for years bedside by now I know their moves and how they think.

And I’m sure that’s vice versa; especially with my title here.

“What’s good man?”

It had been a few weeks since I last saw him in New York after the murder of Flowers. Of course, we’ve spoken since, he called and told me about the case of Demetrius letting me know that it was indeed a personal love affair conflict. Was it solved? Not so much. Apart from business, Ibrahim had a wedding happening in about four weeks with his long-time college girlfriend Victoria Evans. The main reason I’m here today; he was finally taking the groomsmen to pick out our tuxedos. It feels good to do something normal for a few hours. Tomorrow I was in Atlantic City to do some work before returning the following day to this very same building to speak with the chief here.   “Nothing man. Nothing,” With a quick hug, we both headed inside of his office on the eleventh floor of New York headquarters. “I know this the last place you want to be at. Reminding you of work and shit, but Vick at the house with her momma and friends I figured we’ll just meet up here. Hopefully Bas almost done with his work and we’ll be on the way.” “I’m good, I ain’t getting paid to be here. What’s going on with Vick though? She still deciding on the dress?” “Yes, she said there’s two choices now, honestly, I don’t care. She’ll have on the dress for about two or three hours before she changes to the next one anyway so I’m not even seeing the big deal here.” “Women man. We’ll never understand.” Ibrahim laughed at my words, but I knew deep down how true they were. Never will a man understand women to the smallest details. We’re all built differently, coming from two different worlds. They may be coordinated with one another, but to truly understand the mental mindset; never.  “You ready?” I asked, looking at him from across the other side of the office while he got his things together. “This is big and I know y'all been through thick and thin with one another, but………..I don’t know, man. This shit seems important to every aspect of your life."  "I love her. I’ve been loving her for a long damn time. I can’t see my life going on with just having her as some girlfriend, man. I wake up and it fucks me if she’s not there. I’ve done my share of dirt throughout this relationship as you know, but I can’t see me hurting her anymore. And I can’t see us going on without this title of our love."  "And love is enough? You know, to go forever?"  "I hope so. I mean, there’s loyalty and respect. That ride or die love that keep you going. Faith, trust. All that shit play apart, King."  "And you can’t see yourself without her?”

He grinned when I asked that last question, looking up at me.

“What are you hinting at?"  I don’t even know.  "I’m just thinking about what’s going on. I’m thinking about life man. Mines and everyone’s around me. I’m thinking about my own love life, I’m seeing all this success around me and yet there’s not kind of sense of happiness involved. So, there’s this question that keeps popping up that if you love someone is that enough to marry them and be happy. I’m stressing from figuring out the answer.” “And then you gotta deal with the fact that you’re about to see Chrissie too.” He pointed out, I was specifically trying to leave that out. But nonetheless, yes.  “She’s coming?"  "She RSVP’d a few nights ago. I remember because Vick came in the room, smiling and all teary-eyed and shit,” I nodded my head at his words. Thinking he was done now. “You said you saw Olivia the last time you were here though. How that go?” “It was cool. She was nice to me, there was no bad blood between us."  "That wasn’t Chris either though."  "Hell no. Chrissie would’ve killed me probably,” By now I could’ve sworn she’ll be forgotten. Or at least so far in my memory that I longer cared about her. Instead it was the opposite. She was controlling me without even being around and the closer we got to this wedding; the more I was on edge. “I fucked up with her. Even I knew I was doing something stupid but I played myself into believing that it was for the best that I spilt ways with her."  "You can have spilt ways all you want Kingston, but until there’s that closure between you two. You’ll always have that bad cloud sitting over you.”

Chrissie

“I like this more though. Look at the colors on this, Chrissie."  My eyes scanned the artificial room me and my sister stood in at the Brooklyn Ikea Store. The multi-colored three hundred dollar 3-Piece Hercules Alon Series was in fact beautiful especially with the set. From what Olivia’s saying, the room that she and Travis chose for his parents stay; there’s no furniture whatsoever. Yet it’s the only room beside their master bedroom which has a walk-in closet and private bathroom. In all, I understand her wanting to dress it up for their liking, but I also don’t want her to do too much. I highly doubt Ikea will allow them a full return after the holidays because this stuff is now unnecessary.  Travis did hand over his debt card to handle all direct charges. He’s made his parents happy thus far. Just as myself and Olivia, he’s the first graduate of his family, going on to become the first Doctor. And even with their five-year age difference he seems like a wholesome person for my sister.  So, I understood her want to be proactive with this decision.

"I love the colors,” I started off with. “Right! It’s perfect.” And she finished it for me, moving on to the front counter. I hope they had some in stock to help soothe her soul.  This has been the fifth store we’ve been to in the past four hours. As much as I love Liv, she will be the death of me. It was slowly counting down to Christmas Eve, and with as much work on my desk at home; I was here with her.  Nonetheless, I had my own reasons.  A few nights ago, I took myself out of misery and tore open the invitation Ibrahim had sent to me through Mike. What I found out was Michael was over six weeks late with giving me the invite. I didn’t know what kept this so long; maybe fearing my reaction, but he did so. This however, only gave us about four weeks to get ourselves ready for the event. And being I haven’t been around the crew in over six years, I needed this prep time.  Olivia also needed to know that she was invited. We both had plus one invites also and I’m sure she’ll ask Travis if he was up for attending the wedding along with her. It took her over ten minutes to come back from the counter after speaking with some of the sale associates. From the smile on her face I knew it had to be something good coming from this. As emotionally detached I seemed, this was important to her, so I was trying to be a good team player.  “What happened?"  "I’m buying the last they have in the store. Plus, it’s twenty percent off so I’m getting a pretty damn good deal for this couch.” “So all you have to do is pay?” “Yeah, but I came over to see if you were okay. I’m starting to think holidays aren’t your thing anymore.” Olivia stated, laughing lightly as if she was trying to lighten the mood.  “I’m good Livia." 

"So, we’re invited? Like invited?"  So, I spilled the beans. Accidentally on purpose. I needed to talk about this to someone sooner than later.  "Yeah. It’s the week of Kingston’s birthday."  "Which is?"  "The twenty-eighth of January is his birthday. The wedding is the twenty-fourth."  "How do you remember his birthday after almost nine years?” Her question was completed left of this topic, yet understanding. “Look, that’s beside the point,” I said, but like always she cut me off.  “When is my birthday?"  "Don’t do this Liv.” “No seriously. When?” “March fifth, Olivia. Nineteen-Ninety-One.” Pleased with my response she slumped down on the couch nearest to her in the living room of she and Travis’, well originally known as Travis’, Upper East Side townhouse.  “Are you down with it?” “I guess so. I’m invited. It’ll be rude to turn down the invite just because of some college bullshit.”

I already RSVP myself, but I decided to keep that to myself for now. “But it’s more than that Chrissie,” Sighing, Olivia looked at me and I could read the intrusive question coming from a mile away. “What happened?” “Kingston has a lot of dark secrets. Shit that I couldn’t dare myself to tell someone without his permission.” And that’s the truth. I rather have that dreadful conversation with him first. 

“You need his permission to speak on how much his presence still bothers you? He sounds controlling.”

“Olivia….” I respond, tired of this already.

“And do you think he still thinks about you as much as you think about him?” “Ouch.” I said, my sensitive emotions took that as some deep shade throwing.  “I’m just asking because if not, maybe you can relax.” "I don’t know Livia. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. The man keeps his distance with me."  "Call him.” She said, picking up her phone before sliding it over to me. Her words came out so easy and claiming. As if it was just that easy. As if it was some bright idea that pop up in her mind. ‘I never talk on the phone, Babygirl. I hate that shit. It’s never as personal as you think.'  God, I remember those words every time the idea has come to mind.  “He won’t answer.” “Try.”

[keywestlou]

LEAVE AMORGOS FOR ATHENS 6 AM TOMORROW.....NINE HOUR TRIP

DAY 30…..Greece the First Time

Posted on June 26, 2012 by Key West Lou

An interesting experience this morning.

I was sitting on the terrace reading. It was very early. The sun had just risen.

I assumed the rest of Amorgos was still sleeping. It was. Except for one elderly Greek woman.

She came walking by. Wrinkled face. White hair. Tanned. Dressed in black dress and stockings.

She stopped and talked with me. She spoke smilingly and occasionally excitedly. In Greek, of course.

I sat there smiling at her. Nodding my head in agreement on occasion.

I never spoke a word. Nor did I understand the Greek she was throwing at me.

At the end of whatever she was telling me, she gave me a big smile and walked away.

Notice how well I speak Greek!

Yesterday, I walked. Once more to the other side of the bay. About 2 miles. My gait and wind are much better. I was moving along.

I lunched at an outdoor cafe overlooking the harbor. A spectacular view. All views are spectacular here in the Greek isles.

I ate at Demetrius’ again last night. Why not. The food is outstanding.

Demetrius’ place is nothing appearance wise. An old old small building with a beat up awning outside. Maybe a dozen small tables. Tables, chairs and silverware not matching.

The place is packed every evening by 9.

Last night, I had ceci peas. Soft. Covered in a tomato/oil sauce. With De Vito type bread on the side to clean the plate.

My entre was a chunk of lamb and boiled potatoes covered in a similar sauce as the ceci peas. I was told the lamb was local. I suspect the poor animal had been killed within 24 hours of it showing up on the plate before me.

The lamb melted in my mouth.

I showed up for dinner at 9. Finished at 11. The Greeks eat slowly. Then to bed.

Tonight is my last in Amorgos. I will have been here a week. I leave tomorrow for 2 days in Athens. I am returning to Athens to do some things I did not when last I was there 3 weeks ago.

I shall miss Amorgos.

Permit me to share some random observations with you about this island.

I suggested this past week that Amorgos probably had 2,000 residents. I was close. 1,859. On an island more than 50 miles long.

Amorgos is as it was 200 years ago. Perhaps even before.

The houses are concrete. All white. Each more than 200 years old. High ceilings. Irregular walls.

The people are 80 to 100 years ago. Throwbacks from another time. Simple people. Good people.

There are few cars on Amorgos. Two means of transportation exist. Your feet and three wheeled bicycles. Three wheelers all over the place with big baskets on the back.

The men generally 50 plus. Many 70 plus. Paunchy. White haired. Dress in black. The women the same. For whatever reason, the women’s faces are especially wrinkled.

The reason both sexes dress in black is that it supposedly is cooler than wearing a lighter color.

Honesty prevails! Eleni and I discovered each other when first I arrived. I had one big bag. She insisted on rolling it along. Not far. She stopped in front of a building. Note we are standing on the harbor front. Busiest place on the island. She told me to follow her. But she left my bag alone. What about my bag? Don’t worry, she said. No one will steal it.

Her husband drives a three wheel bike. He parks it outside at night on the concrete walkway in front of his building. A public thoroughfare. No lock. Any one could ride it away. No one does.

My apartment sits on the bay of Amorgos. I see the boats come in and go out. Not that many. There are no big boats per se. Some evenings, 2-3 big sailboats. People put in for the night. Otherwise, the boats moored or otherwise tied up in the water are small.

Really small.

The predominant vessel is a row boat. Yes, these fisherman go out into the sea to catch their ware in row boats. If you think about it, it is not so strange. In Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea, the fisherman was out on the ocean in a row boat the whole story.

There are some ancient type boats, also. A couple of feet longer than a row boat. A rudder in the back.

The boats are evidence of my representation that Amorgos is significantly behind the times.

Few tourists. The island is off the beaten track. Only two ferry boats a week. I think Amorgos is absolutely fantastic! And cheap! Everything costs nothing. A person could easily live here on a Social Security check. And still have money left over!

The tourists are from all over the world. They all come for the same reasons. Peace, solitude and the cheap cost.

The locals are a happy group. Difficult to know at first. They are wary of strangers. But in less than a week, I became a welcomed guest on their island.

There are young people. However, not that many. The proof of the pudding. There is only one disco on the island. The younger people probably leave Amorgos for bigger and better things when they come of age. I hope some of them return in due course. Everything they will be looking for in later life is already here.

Internet and wi fi service comes and goes. Every restaurant and hotel claims they have it. Impossible to find! You become adjusted. Take it in stride. Eventually it returns.

Fresh fruit a delight! An example is a gift Eleni’s husband gave me. He has a garden next to my building. It runs three stories up a little hill. Everything runs upward on Amorgos. He has an apricot tree. One day, he brought me a bowl full of apricots. They were small and ripe. Delicious. Made my mouth water.

As else where in Greece, clothes lines everywhere. Front porches, sides of buildings, where ever. Even I have a clothesline. At the far end of my terrace. For my sole use. I have used it.

I leave tomorrow at 6 in the morning. I have no choice. The two boats a week in and out both leave at 6. It is a 9 hour trip to Athens. Going to be fun. Not really. However, I am going business class and am told it will make the trip considerably easier.

Due to the time constraints tomorrow, I may not be able to do the blog. We shall see.

I have experienced four Greek places this trip. A brief evaluation is in order.

Athens I liked. It is a big city like New York. Excitement everywhere. The reason I am returning for two days more.

The best viewwise was Santorini. Spectacular. I sat with God. The food was not that good, however. Santorini is in transit. It is going from a small unknown island to a major tourist attraction. It is closer to being a major tourist attraction.

Mykonos I did not like at all. It is a tourist trap. It sells yesterday to people who want that life style. I have no desire to return to Mykonos.

Overall, Amorgos is the winner. The view is good. Plus the island has a great package otherwise. Quiet. Solitude. Good food. Nice people. The opportunity to travel at your own pace.

That’s it. The next time you hear from me will be from Athens.

Enjoy your day!

—

An extremely sad day yesterday. Tiger Woods in an automobile accident in California. One car accident. Tiger driving. No other person injured.

From the looks of the car, Tiger is lucky to be alive. The whole front end appears to have been pushed up to the front portion of the body of the car.

Tiger sustained “significant orthopedic injuries to his right lower extremity….. “open fractures.” A rod placed in his tibia, screws and pins in his foot while he was undergoing “emergency surgery.”

He was responsive last night and this morning.

Enough for the technical aspects.

I was blown away. Spent a considerable portion of the day listening to the news reports and shedding a tear on occasion A few times more than a tear.

Tiger has had his ups and downs in life. Whatever his failings, he overcame them. His career has had its up and downs. He came back. Went through multiple surgeries, especially to his back.

Tiger represents America. He is the best part of America. Respected by most. An icon in his lifetime.

I suspect his career is over. He is in his early 40s. Golfers will tell you the legs are the most important part of the body when playing golf. He will recover. Fully in all likelihood. However time to get off the achievement ladder and begin smelling the roses all of  the time.

He has succeeded professionally and personally. A new life awaits him.

When I was not glued to the TV watching Tiger, I was at the Senate Committee hearing re January 6.

Most of the Republican members an absolute disgrace. Still following Trump. Their Lord and Master. Their Pied Piper.

They were a shame. The Republicans tried to whitewash the day. Continued to drive in the theory that the 6th was a coordinated attack. Planned of course by the Democrats.

Senator Johnson continues to be one who follows Trump’s dictates.

The Federalist Society in a recent Federalist article raised unproven claims. Johnson spent all his time, except for one 5 minute interval, reading word for word from the report. Like The Federalist was the Bible.

The article referred to the Democratic terrorists as “provocateurs.” Claimed they were “fake protesters.”

In short, the terrorists were planned demonstrators who in reality were Democrats.

Senator Hawly made me sick. He is the man who advised the nation on January 5 that he was with the demonstrators. Encouraged them as Trump would to do their thing. He is also the Senator who on January 6 was filmed walking up the Capitol steps with the demonstrators behind him. He stopped and turned around facing them. With a glowing smile, he gave them a thump up.

He was part of the whitewashing team yesterday.

Cruz continues to dig a whole for himself. Some things just cannot be explained away. A trip to Cancun’s Ritz-Carlton because his wife said their home was freezing. Leaving his constituents at home freezing.

He added to the fire yesterday. The fire that is slowly but surely engulfing him. He said his wife  Heidi was “pissed” because apparently one of their neighbors had advised the media they wee off to Cancun.

Heidi tweeted her neighbors telling them to join the Cruzs on the trip to Cancun. None accepted. However one did provide the media with a copy of the tweet.

Cruz referred to the yet unknown neighbor as an “a-hole.” He should have spelled it out. Asshole!

It was reported yesterday that a Jared Kushner property was in foreclosure.  The technical owner is Kushner and Cos. of which Jared is a part.

Wells Fargo is foreclosing on them.

The building is located at 229 West 43 Street. Formerly the home of the New York Times. The property was appraised for $470 million in 2016. Some big time tenants moved out. The property was reappraised in 2019 for $92.5 million. The Kushners were unable to make interest payments and such resulted in the foreclosure action.

I thought I understood big money. This is beyond me. Jared going into foreclosure for millions of dollars. At the same time, it has been reported in the past 2 months that he and Ivanka purchased an empty lot in Billionaire Bunker near Miami for $31 million. While waiting for the home to be constructed, Jared and family are renting in one of the most expensive condominium buildings in Miami. Some thing like $37,000 or $47,000 a month. Unfurnished. On top of which, it recently was announced that Jared and Ivanka had jointly earned $120,000 in 2020.

The world of high finance is sometimes difficult to grasp.

The vaccine still a problem as regards distribution. Biden’s people announced that the age required for the shots was being dropped this friday to 55. I am 85 and still waiting! Additionally, 240 million doses will be available in March.

All sounds good. I believe Biden when he says 240 million doses will be available. My problem is why am I not getting my shot. I qualified when the cut off was 85. When lowered to 75 and 65 continued tobe qualified. Now going to 55.

The Citizens’ Voice had an interesting comment this morning re getting the vaccine shot: “Under 65? No problem. A snowbird with a home, no problem. A permanent Florida resident older than 65 with health issues, get in line and wait. The vaccine system is really rigged. And all the while doses for health care workers may or may not be used, since they can have it, but don’t have to.”

Bring back May Johnson!

In the meantime, it appears William Hackley has made a step up in life. His mornings up to this past week had him taking a “bath.”

Now he refers to his morning cleansing as a “shower bath.”

It appears Hackley has gone 1897 Key West modern. He now has a shower!

My Tuesday Talk with Key West Lou blog talk radio show last night. With all humility, I must advise I think it was one of the best I have done. If you missed it, the show is archived and will be easy to find.

Enjoy your day!

LEAVE AMORGOS FOR ATHENS 6 AM TOMORROW…..NINE HOUR TRIP was originally published on Key West Lou