#i think two mainly fronts with me background more than we can clock it

[cougar-crossing]

Fucked for the other two alters to both not like fronting entirely (or atleast alone) which means unfortunately it is still Mostly one guy doing all of this . I don't even get a break

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.7

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Cassandra gradually starts taking up more of your time. Or, more accurately, demands it like it’s her birthright.

Every day, you wake her up with a kiss to her shoulder or neck and a whisper of her name. She comes to you when she’s bored at random times during your shifts, to either talk –complain— about her sisters or to outright distract you. There are times at night when you’ll feel the chill of her slip into your bed and press up against your back, but she’s always gone by morning light, like a dream.

She used to be just another component to your nightmares. Now… she’s what takes them away.

And you’re afraid.

That you’re growing to like the time with her while she’s just playing around, that it will cut that much deeper when you find yourself on the end on her sickle. Because how else can it end, you reason, between the two of you?

The thought momentarily makes your liplock with Cassandra taste bitter, despite the sweet strawberry taste of her lip balm -and no way she’s putting that on for you, right?

She has you pressed deep into a plush armchair with her palm on your chest, while her thighs are locked tight on either side of yours. You want to tell her that you should stop –both because you’re literally in the open and anyone can walk in on you and because it’s late—but her lips are doing wicked things to your neck and you can’t find your voice long enough.

When Cassandra starts grinding down on you though, rather impatiently too, you have to speak up before she starts something neither of you can finish.

“Cassandra.” you say breathily. A sharp nip comes over your pulse, then slippery lips close around the area. “Ah! Cassandra. You’ll be late for dinner.”

She tsks and pulls back, expression much like a kid that got her hand slapped away from the cookie jar. She dismounts you with the same sour look, smoothing down her robes.

“Walk me there.” she orders.

You rise and fall into step beside her, trying not to linger on how strange it feels. It should be nothing, really, considering all the activities the two of you nightly indulge in, but it’s… something.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically quiet, keeps gazing out the windows as though calculating or pinpointing something while you make your way to the dining room.

She comes to a sudden halt just before you reach it, turns to you, steals a quick kiss and then quickly leaves you behind, a colder aura about her as she strolls inside.

You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, but not what she says. Once a few minutes have passed and you can safely blend into the background, you join the other maids on standby within.

You used to hate it here. Having them all in front of you like that, serving them wine, when they’re all to blame for taking any semblance of normalcy out of your life. You never glance at what they’re eating. You still dislike dinner time.

But.

When Alcina makes a snide comment about Heisenberg and you hear Cassandra’s laugh above Daniela’s giggle and Bela’s chuckle…

It no longer seems so bad.

-

-

“Bela, stay a moment.” Cassandra says after Lady Dimitrescu leaves with Daniela in tow.

“Oh, no.” The blonde huffs under her hood.

“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” The younger sibling raises her hands in exasperation.

“When you go ‘Bela~’” You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral as you’re cleaning the table because hearing the normally stoic sister mimic Cassandra’s voice like that is just plain gold. “It’s never good.” her tone turns flat once more.

Cassandra very pointedly rolls her pretty eyes. “I need you to cover for me.”

“See?” Bela sighs. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a question, I was just trying to give you the illusion of choice.” Cassandra shrugs. “I’m going out tonight.”

“What?” Bela damn near hisses. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s fine it’s, like, thirteen degrees.”

“How is that fine?”

The elder sister’s gaze then flits to you. There is no other maid in the vicinity that can overhear them, but she’s clearly uncomfortable with you picking up the implications of their conversation.

You still don’t get it. You guessed their aversion to sunlight has to do with their mutations… but why would the cold be an issue?

The survivor in you wants to know more. To know if this is something that can be used to your advantage when the time and circumstances are right for a potential escape.

Another part of you… just plain worries.

“I know what I’m doing.” Cassandra says, stern.

“Then you’re doing it alone.” Bela turns to leave…

Except.

“Oh, well. Guess mother should know about that little maid you’ve been orbiting around, lately.” Cassandra comments. “The one you even did a favor for? Just imagine her disappointment in you, the shining example of the family, stooping so low.”

Bela’s back goes rod-straight. The piercing look she sends Cassandra sends ice down your spine. You think she’s going to pounce… yet she exhales.

“One. Hour.” Bela states. “If you’re not back in one hour I’m coming to drag your sorry behind to mother. And she—” A gloved finger points directly to you, “Won’t be coming back with you in one piece.”

Wait.

What?

-

-

You didn’t know Cassandra planned to take you with her. But she didn’t deny it when Bela pointed to you. After her sister left, all she said was: ‘Dress well.’

Which brings you to your current position, pacing by the entrance hall of the castle, in a warm coat and two layers of clothes underneath. You turn to look behind when you finally hear her steps descending the staircase.

And— you freeze.

Because Cassandra is not wearing her usual robes. She’s dressed in all black, yes, but the outfit is tight on her form, fitting every curve, hugging her wonderful legs like a second skin. She’s wearing knee-high boots instead of heels and her hooded, gothic overcoat reaches down to mid-thigh.

There’s not a single patch of her skin visible other than her face… and you can’t, for the life of you, explain why it’s that hot.

“You’re staring, plaything.” she chastises, yet doesn’t sound like she minds. Rather, she’s smirking.

“Uh—” you can’t really form words.

“We need to hurry, clock’s ticking.” she says as she jiggles the very key you’ve looked everywhere during work hours for. The key to freedom. To leaving the castle.

Cassandra double-checks her clothes before she opens the door. You file it as useful information for later as you hurry to catch up to her.

The path to the village –or what’s left of it— through the forest is… difficult. Mainly because Cassandra is entirely unbothered by any and all obstacles and moves like she’s on a walkway, leaving you to fight with every rock hidden in the snow.

You manage. Somehow.

Until a distant howl makes you jump and quite literally crash into her side.

Cassandra laughs. It’s a clear, beautiful sound in the dead of night. “My, my. Scared of a Lycan in my presence?”

“I thought it was just a regular wolf!” You whisper, mortified.

Yellow eyes blink at you. Then her gloved hand raises to yours, taking it in a secure grip. You didn’t realize you were shaking, yet the tremors quickly cease when she does that. It’s just your heart that still feels like it’s going to give out on you, but for an entirely different reason, now.

Cassandra safely leads you to the village. It looks more or less the same, except empty, void of life. You don’t linger on memories. You don’t.

“Show me your house.” she says.

You never thought you’d be tracing the steps of your front porch so soon. You only have to push the door for it to open. And the inside is just as you remembered. A quaint little house. It’s simply not… home, anymore.

Nothing is.

Maybe nothing ever was.

And the thought makes a thin, cracked wall inside you finally give. Cassandra is saying something a few paces behind you, but your vision has blurred, your eyes sting and hot, salty rivers roll past your lids.

“Are you listening to me?” she asks. “...Plaything?”

You can’t talk. If you do, you’ll sob and break to pieces on the floor like a pushed glass statue.

Cassandra’s grip is tight and demanding on your elbow when her fingers curl above it, but she turns you with gentleness you’d never think her capable of. You do not meet her eyes.

Her other hand comes up to your neck.

You can’t, you can’t—

“Alexia.”

Your eyes snap to hers when she says it, from the shock. You didn’t think she even knew your name. Cassandra shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then seems to decide on something and wipes the tears beading at your chin away with her thumb.

“Pack what you wish. We don’t have long.”

As you turn into your bedroom and open your wardrobe to pack a few clothes into a bag, just to feel a tad more yourself when you’re in your room in the castle, the sound of your name falling from her lips follows you.

Haunts you.

You have half a mind to get your mp3, phone and chargers before you return to her. Cassandra is holding whatever she wanted to get from the village in a box tucked between her arm and body.

“Come.” she orders. Her hand settles on your elbow again and practically drags you along.

You don’t talk on your way back to the castle.

From one of the many windows overlooking the front yard, you spot Bela’s eyes on the two of you until she retreats into the shadows. Rigidly, Cassandra enters and immediately goes by the large fireplace to warm up. You only then notice how much more fluid her movements get. Or rather, how sluggish she was during the trip.

You shut the door and turn the key and realize it’s much easier to handle your situation when you’re the one locking yourself inside.

You take off your coat and scarf, then make to head for your bedroom —according to your calculations you’ll only get 3 hours of sleep— until… you notice how cold Cassandra looks.

She’s one step away from hugging the flames. And you can still hear her call you by your name in your head.

Great. Another thing to keep me up at night. You think as you approach her.

Slowly, so as to not scare her, you slip your arms around her slim waist from behind. She’s like a block of ice in your embrace, at first. Her body thaws gradually, to the point she’s fully relaxed against you.

“Thank you for today.” the words don’t come easy –they’re like pulling teeth— but you manage to get them out clearly enough.

“You’ll thank me in very many ways, plaything.” she says. “Having your own belongings in the castle is not a privilege any maid gets. But.” her voice, although quiet, hardens the slightest amount. “If, despite my generosity, you harbor dreams of escape… I will turn them to nightmares.”

Your blood goes cold in your veins. You can only nod against her shoulder.

Cassandra turns in your arms to look at you.

“And if you ever try to leave me alone here… I will find you and kill you myself.”

[bestiesenpai]

The Language of Flowers - Toji Fushiguro

Who is ready for Toji Fushiguro fluff? This is a flower shop au + a kinda mafia au, so let’s see how it turned out, shall we? Gender neutral reader and no warnings :)

“Welcome in!” Fifteen minutes after opening your shop for the day, you got your first customer. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to come in so early, usually a senior citizen or a shop owner looking to spruce up their place with a fresh bouquet. But the person walking in as you rounded the corner didn’t look like the typical type of early morning client.

Smartly dressed in a suit with a large double breasted overcoat hanging off broad shoulders, the man that walked in had a much more serious demeanor than you were used to. Inky black hair with strands hanging in his face, a prominent scar on the edge of one lip and half-lidded eyes that seemed to stare right through you as they landed on you.

“Hello.” Even the smooth, deep timbre of his voice was out of place as he walked past tables full of bright orchids and petunias. He moved slowly, all the time in the world at his fingertips as he approached the counter.

“How can I help you today?” There was something unnerving about him but you pushed it away, gripping the edges of your apron so he wouldn’t see your hands slightly tremble.

“You make bouquets, right?” Looking over his shoulders a few times, his eyes settled on a few pictures on the wall of past arrangements. “I need one for a funeral.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be, he had it coming.” Chuckling to himself, the man tapped his chest a few times.

“O-oh.” Blinking away your shock, you gestured to the flowers on display. “Any particular flowers you’d like?”

“Lilies are funeral flowers, right? A handful of those and some glitter should be fine.” Digging in his pocket, the man pulled out a wad of cash and placed a few bills on the counter that separated you. “This should be enough.”

“This is more than enough, I can’t-” He’d put a few hundreds on the counter, all crisp and clean like they were freshly printed.

“Don’t worry about it.” Waving off your apprehension, he pushed the money closer. “Think of it as me repenting.”

“What do you need to repent for?” Slowly taking the money, you regretted asking as the man chuckled again.

“I’m the reason this funeral’s happening.”

Ten minutes later, the man - who’s name you’d learned was Toji - was walking out of the door with a fresh bouquet of white lilies. He didn’t say anything further while he was there, mainly because you hid in the back room as you worked. You could hear his dress shoes clicking against the worn hardwood as he perused the shop and every once in a while he stopped to sniff a flower.

The rest of the day went by without incident, your regular customers came in and you were able to forget about the man that had occupied the space in the early morning. Only when you emptied out the register and saw the money sitting at the bottom did you think about him, which brought a light flush to your cheeks. As intimidating as he was, you couldn’t help but find him a bit attractive.

A week and a half went by until you saw him again. It was a surprise to hear him come into the shop at the same time as last, wearing another suit with the heavy coat on his shoulders.

“Another funeral?” You asked when you saw him and your question made his lips stretch into an unexpected laugh.

“Not this time! I’m going to a wedding later.” Toji’s laugh warmed your cheeks, it was a rich sound that came straight from the barrel of his chest.

“Are you getting married?” Your eyes darted down to his ringless fingers.

“Nope, the boss’ youngest daughter found love.” Fishing a phone out of his pocket, Toji showed you a picture of a girl clearly ecstatic with her lover and a very large ring on her finger, a few men that looked like bodyguards lingering in the background.

“How precious! What’re the colors for the wedding?”

“Beats me, I’m not in it.” Shrugging his shoulders, Toji gestured to a few pink roses. “I think she likes pink, so maybe a bit of those.”

“You think or you know?” You snorted, rounding the counter and going over to the flowers. “Weddings are a really big deal, she might not like it if you clash.” Toji opened and closed his mouth like he was going to say a witty retort, but instead he bit back a sigh and nodded curtly.

“Pick whatever you like then, I just need a bouquet that goes well with a stack of cash.” Holding his coat away from him, Toji flashed a white envelope tucked inside his inner pocket, along with the tell tale handle of a gun resting in a holster to his side.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Licking your lips nervously, you fought to keep your eyes steady and not look at the gun. Turning back to the flowers, you mulled over them longer than necessary to avoid facing him. “You said she likes pink?”

Thanking you once again for your service, Toji left with a large bouquet in his hands and a congratulations card he had you write. He even promised to come back and show you pictures of the wedding and while you appreciated the returning patronage, the man before you was starting to make you quite uneasy.

“You still open?” It was five minutes to closing time and the bell above the door alerted you to another customer, the sound of the voice telling you exactly who it was.

“Toji, you really came back.” It was a bit of a shock to see him twice in one day. He was a little more disheveled, the coat on his shoulders was gone and he didn’t have a suit jacket on, with the black button up he had underneath clearly wrinkled and coming untucked at one side.

“Yeah, the wedding was in the afternoon, and I only had to stay until the newlyweds left.” Running a hand through his hair, Toji checked the watch on his wrist as he grabbed his phone. It was nearing eight and the sign on the door clearly stated you were going to close soon, so he had to make this quick.

Sliding his phone wordlessly onto the counter, he gestured toward the pictures on the screen. The wedding was massive, a lot of money had clearly been spent to give the smiling bride everything she wanted.

“Toji, she’s holding my bouquet!” Walking down the aisle, arm in arm with who you assumed was her father, the bride was carrying the bouquet that you’d made.

“Hm? Yeah, guess she is.”

“She didn’t have her own?” If you had known she would be carrying it down the aisle you would have made it more extravagant and lush.

“She did, but she liked yours so much she took it.” The statement brought a silly smile to your lips and Toji laughed to himself, swiping through more photos. Every single one had jovial people but you couldn’t ignore the men in dark suits with stern looks on their faces in the background and flanking the bride's father in a few pictures.

“Do you really need that many bodyguards at a wedding?” Looking at the bride more closely, she wasn’t recognizable to you as any celebrity or daughter of a politician.

“When you do the business we do, yeah.” Coming to the end of the pictures, Toji tucked his phone away. Giving him a curious look, you began to untie the apron around your waist. The clock hung on the wall rang eight and it was time to close up shop.

“What kind of business?” You pressed, slowly starting to turn off the lights to the shop and ushering Toji out as you walked to the front.

“Honey, I don’t think you want to know.” Standing on the sidewalk as you locked up the shop, Toji grinned as he looked over the street and saw the other small businesses closing up for the night as well.

Narrowing your eyes briefly at him, you did a once over of Toji. He was quite broad, with clearly defined muscles on every slope and curve of his body. There were a couple scars on his hands to match the one on his lip and you could see the outline of a gun tucked into his hip clear as day. It wouldn’t be that hard to guess, but did you want to take that leap?

“Well whatever it is, it’s certainly keeping me afloat.” Shrugging your shoulders, you gave the doors one last tug before putting the keys away and beginning to walk away. “It was nice seeing you, Toji.” It was nice seeing more of his body and talking to him, having his attention solely on you.

“Take care getting home, (Y/N).” Giving you a quick wave, Toji fished a cigarette out of his pocket. “I’ll see you around.” Waving back at him, the two of you went your separate ways with the heat of the day dissipating in the air and masking the light flush on both of your cheeks.

Coming to work the next day, the scent of Toji’s cologne still lingered in the air as you walked in. Putting your apron on and starting to prep for the coming day, you found yourself waiting at the fifteen minute mark to see if he would come in with another request. But the only one that came was a delivery man holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

Thanking him, you quickly snatched the card that was attached and read it.

How often does a florist get flowers? Can’t imagine it’s a lot. These are a thank you from me and the boss for that bouquet the other day, it was a big hit.

- Toji

P.S. These aren’t nearly as bright as your smile but they come close, don’t they?

A warm blush invaded your whole body as you read the last line, giggling to yourself as you reread it a few times and looked at the sunflowers. They were indeed a bright and vibrant yellow and as you transferred them to a vase, your mouth refused to let go of the large smile stretching your cheeks wide and it stayed for the whole day.

The next few days were slow, the weather had taken a drastic turn and rain pelted the streets and drowned out any potential customers. There was even the low, distant rumble of thunder rolling in as you began to close up shop one day.

“Shit, it’s really coming down.” Standing at the front door, you watched small rivers of water flow down the street. The street was empty save for the few people running past to get out of the rain. Worrying your lip, you were at a standstill. Your bus stop was only a five minute walk away, but the reality of having to wait in the rain and get your shoes utterly soaked was keeping you rooted in place.

“Maybe I can wait it out.” Mumbling to yourself, you closed the door and flicked off the open sign. There was probably some prep you could do for the following morning while you waited for the weather to hopefully ease up a little, a bouquet you could get started on a little early or plants that might need a little sprucing up.

Sweeping aimlessly, touching up a few displays, double and triple checking the incoming flower deliveries - all of it took less than thirty minutes to complete and the rain seemed to be coming down even harder now. Wandering to the backroom, you were just about to rearrange another drawer when the wind whooshed by and shook the front door in its frame.

“(Y/N)? You in there?” Except it wasn’t the wind and that was certainly Toji’s voice. He was standing at the door, cupping his face against the glass and peeking into the shop. Rushing to open it for him, he was dripping big puddles onto the floor as he came in.

“What’re you doing here?” For once he had his large overcoat on and properly buttoned up and his hair was clinging to his face with fat water droplets streaking down his skin.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Why?” Grabbing a few paper towels, you cast him a curious look.

“Well…” Dabbing off his face, Toji took a glance at you before closing his eyes and wiping off his hair. “Just wanted to check on the shop, ya know, make sure it was holding up in this weather.” Toji’s cheeks turned a bit rosy and he wiped at his face a little more.

“I would say it’s holding up pretty fine.” Shrugging your shoulders, there wasn’t much you could do against the weather outside.

“Great, that’s...that’s great.” Toji trailed off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around the shop. A loud crack of thunder broke the steadily growing tension, making you jump and shuffle a bit closer to him.

“This weather is awful.” You mumbled. Your fingers just brushed against the material of his coat and you wanted to cling onto it, have Toji open it so you could snuggle close to him and drown out the sounds of outside.

“Do you have a ride home? I notice it’s a bit past closing time.” Taking a glance at his watch, Toji looks at you with a raised brow.

“No, I ride the bus. I was hoping the rain would ease up so I could leave soon.”

“The bus? You can’t take that in this weather.” Shaking his head, Toji dug around in his pockets. “Wait here, I’ll give you a ride.”

“But you-” There was no car parked outside the shop and as you followed Toji to the door you didn’t see any waiting either.

“I parked around the corner. Lock up the shop and wait for me.” Patting the door frame a few times, Toji ducked his head and ran down the street. Watching him for as long as you could, you hurriedly turned the lights off and closed the door right as a shiny silver sports car pulled up.

Running out, you practically dove into the passenger's seat as soon as the door was opened. Toji had the heat cranked up, chasing away the nipping cold air that had followed you in. It smelled even more of Toji’s cologne in here, a scent you hoped would linger far after you left the car.

“Which way home?” He asked, pulling out into the street.

“Take a right up here and then go straight.” Doing as you said, Toji fiddled with the radio and let the low sound of music fill the air along with the rain. Driving down the slick roads, Toji came to a slow stop at a red light.

“Would you have seriously taken the bus if I hadn’t shown up?” Making a face at the weather, Toji clicked his tongue when he watched you nod.

“Or I would have just slept in the backroom.” Your comment made him laugh, an abrupt bark that came from his stomach and had him leaning forward a little.

“Really? Made a pillow among those pretty flowers?”

“I’m sure they’d be quite comfortable.” Laughing as well, you looked out the window as he began to drive again. As the laughter turned to soft chuckles, you felt the urge to speak again and keep the conversation going. It was easy to talk to Toji and despite your apprehension upon first meeting him, you could see yourself becoming friends with the man.

“Well this is just great.” Coming to a grinding halt, Toji let out a soft groan and gestured to the traffic filled road ahead of him. “Did people forget how to drive in the fucking rain or something?”

“Maybe…” Leaning around in your seat, you could see the tell-tale flashing of emergency lights. “I think someone got into an accident up there, I can see an ambulance.”

“They had to choose tonight to fuck their car up?” Rolling his eyes, Toji sunk into the driver's seat, drumming his fingers against the wheel and taking a peek in the rearview mirror. “Seems like we’re stuck here, there’s too many people to turn back now.”

Turning over your shoulder, you blanched at the sight of all the cars suddenly behind you. The road you were travelling on wasn’t particularly busy to begin with but it seemed the inclimate weather had other plans.

“Guess we wait then.” Sinking down to match him, you watched the rain smatter against the windshield. The soft jazz Toji had chosen fit the atmosphere nicely and the heat coming from the vents kept any chill away from you. The longer you sat in the comfortable quiet, the more tempting it seemed to close your eyes and take a nap.

“Hey.” A hand curling around your knee and fingers digging slightly into your leg jostled you awake. Taking a sharp, sudden inhale of the cologne scented air you jolted upright and blinked away the sleep in your eyes.

“W-what?” Looking around, you had made a significant distance on the road and it seemed you were past whatever was blocking you.

“You fell asleep on me, sweetheart.” Toji chuckled, letting his hand slide from your leg and back to the steering wheel. “And I kinda need your help to get you home.”

“Right, sorry.” Quickly clearing your throat, you pointed down the street. “Uhm, at that next light you can take a right.” With just a few more turns and straightaways, you successfully guided Toji to your home without falling asleep again.

“Hurry inside, don’t want you getting soaked.” Turning to you as he put the car in park, Toji flicked his chin toward your home.

“I will.” Smiling at his concern, you gathered your things and put a hand on the door handle. Taking one last whiff of his cologne, you nodded to him. “Thank you so much Toji, I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” Waving you off, Toji stayed until he saw you go into your house and close the door, only pulling away when he was sure you were settled inside.

That night you listened to the radio station Toji had on as you took a bath to wind down from the day, curling your own hand around your knee and imagining what it’d be like to take a bath with him instead of alone.

As you walked to work the next day, avoiding big puddles and dripping eaves, it was embarrassing to admit that Toji was still on your mind. A silly crush on the scarred man was blooming in your chest and making you more and more giddy with every step.

“Special delivery!” At midday, a delivery driver waltzed into the shop with a massive bouquet, all sorts of pinks and purples and reds filling your field of vision as they approached.

“I’m sorry, are you sure you have the right place?” The arrangement looked too extravagant to be something Toji would give you on a whim.

“Are you (Y/N)?” Showing you the postage, clear as day it had your name on it.

“Oh, yes that is me.” Signing for the flowers, you struggled to hold them in your arms. The petals tickled your cheeks as you smelled them, plush against your skin and soft to the touch.

Putting them in a vase, you made sure they were prominently displayed at the counter for all to see and every so often you would stop to look at them, letting a gentle sigh of happiness leave your lips.

Another bouquet came the next day as well, just as big and beautiful as the first, and attached to it was a note.

Hope you like the flowers, (Y/N). I got called away on a business trip, so I thought I’d give you something so you wouldn’t miss me too much while I’m away.

- Toji

Tucking the note into your apron as a few customers walked in, throughout the day you took it out to reread it and look at Toji’s messy handwriting scribbled onto whatever florist shop he’d bought the notecard from.

Everyday without fail, for nine days straight, there were flowers delivered to the shop. You weren’t always there to collect them but your neighbors certainly were, gawking openly at the multitude of flowers in vases now crowding the store and threatening to push out your actual inventory.

On the final day there was a note attached to the bouquet as well, this time a dozen red roses with the thorns snipped off.

I’m coming home today, keep the shop open for me? I promise I won’t be too late.

- Toji

This note was clearly typed out, it didn’t have the familiar scratchy lines and jagged edges that you’d memorized from Toji’s previous note. Glancing at the time and looking around the shop at all the vases, none of the happiness that getting them brought you could compare to the feeling threatening to burst your chest open at knowing you’d see Toji soon.

All day you kept an eye on the clock, working faster than you ever had before just to make sure you had no customers waiting in case he came in early. Sweeping and dusting a hundred times over, you’d practically mopped a hole in the floor as you counted the seconds down until you could lock up the shop.

Locking the door and sitting eagerly at the counter, you tried to make yourself look busy. There wasn’t anything you could possibly do, no papers needed to be straightened up and there certainly wasn’t anything to clean, so you waited what felt like ages for a knock on the door.

Walking around in circles in the backroom to try and stave off the anxious energy building inside you, you jumped nearly two feet in the air when there was a loud knock at the door. Wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, you took several deep breaths before rounding the corner and laying your eyes on Toji.

“H-hi.” Opening up the door in record time, there was a harsh heat burning your face as you let him in. You could barely meet him in the eye and instead looked at his bloody knuckles as he stepped past you. “What happened to your hands?”

“Don’t worry about it, I fell on the way here.” Taking out a handkerchief, Toji wiped the blood off his hands and as you took a look at him you noticed there weren't any traces of dirt or dust on his clothes.

“Come wash your hands at the sink.” Guiding him over by the sleeve to a sink at the corner of the shop, you got a whiff of the cologne you loved so much. Watching Toji wash his hands, you were aware how close you were standing to him, pressed snugly against the counter while he lathered.

“How’ve you been, doll?” Toji let a smirk stretch his lips and he glanced at you, his own cheeks getting a bit pink.

“Good.” Looking out at the shop and all the flowers he sent, you let out a little laugh. “Really good.”

“You liked the flowers?” Turning around, Toji leaned against the edge of the sink and chuckled at the sight before him. “Looking at it all now, I think I might have gone a little overboard.”

Your arms were pressed against each other, Toji’s clearly more muscular and much larger than your own. He didn’t have an overcoat on or even a suit like he usually did, he was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a very fitted black t-shirt, one that you had to keep yourself from ogling as it clung to his body.

“You know why I sent them, don’t you?” He asked, cutting through the silence and your daydream. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out why he was sending you so many flowers but you felt too nervous to say it aloud in case you were wrong, so you only nodded.

Fiddling with his damp fingers, Toji bit his lip and grabbed onto your hand with both of his. Engulfing your hand, he squeezed it and brought it up to his chest where you could just barely feel the rapid beat of his heart.

“So, if I asked you out on a date would you say yes?” Speaking with his lips pressed against your hand, Toji peeked at you from the corner of his eye. You stood there, locked in a staring match as both of you refused to even breathe too loudly and break the tension.

“Yes, I would.” You finally spoke, nodding your head and trying to calm the shaking in your body. Breaking out into a full smile, Toji let your hands go and clutched at his chest.

“Geez, you had me fucking worried there for a moment!” Taking a few deep breaths along with shaky laughter, Toji shook his head and forced himself to calm down, square his shoulders and look at you properly. “(Y/N), will you go on a date with me tonight?”

“Yes.” Only able to meet his eye for a moment, you giggled bashfully and put a hand over your face in embarrassment. There was a moment of silence filled with only your giggles and Toji’s relieved sigh, and then he snapped his fingers and tugged on your sleeve.

“Alright, get your stuff and lock up, I’ll grab the car.” Fiddling with the keys in his pocket, Toji quirked a brow when you gave him a curious look. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you walked? You said you fell on the way here...” Walking slowly to grab your things, you felt even more confused when Toji laughed.

“Yeah I fell and some idiot was lucky enough to catch my fist on the way down. Now let’s get going, there’s a ramen shop I wanna take you to.” Getting to the door, he leaned against the frame and waited for you to walk up before fully exiting the store.

“Toji, did you get in a fight?”

“A fight? What? No way!” Waving you off, Toji began to walk down the street to where he parked his car. “A fight implies that the other guy even stood a chance!”

“What?” You shouted back, surprised he could say something like that so casually.

“Don’t worry about it, honey, it’s all in the past.” Stopping and turning on a dime in the middle of the sidewalk, Toji gave you a grin. “(Y/N), I should get you flowers for our date, shouldn’t I?”

“I never thought I’d say this but no Toji, I don’t want flowers for our date.” Laughing at the absurdity of the question, you watched Toji pretend to think about what you said for a moment.

“Right, anyway, I’ll stop at a florist on the way.” Nodding to himself, Toji began to walk away again. “Another dozen roses sound good, maybe I’ll make ‘em pink this time.” Looking over his shoulder, Toji winked at you. “And maybe I’ll get a kiss too.”

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 7, Number 7

What are Grandbrothers doing to that piano?

Greetings from under the heat dome, where shipments of vinyl are melting mid-journey and even the coolest of cool jazz sounds a little wilted by the time it reaches your ear. We are sitting in the shade. We are drinking lemonade and iced tea. We are looking for the window fans and lugging old air condition units up from the basement. We are, perhaps, headed to the community pool for the first time since our kids were young, though also, perhaps not. In any case, we are still getting through piles of recorded music, even in this heat, and finding some gems. Here are dispatches from the furthest reaches of Japanese psych, European free jazz, self-released indie folk, Irish lockdown angst, Moroccan raging punk and lots of other stuff. Contributors included Mason Jones, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Tim Clarke, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Arthur Krumins and Chris Liberato. Stay cool.

Yuko Araki — End of Trilogy (Room40)

End Of Trilogy by Yuko Araki

These 16 tracks whoosh past in just 35 minutes, with most of them clocking in around two minutes in length. Many don't reach a conclusion: they simply end abruptly, and the next one starts. Araki manipulates electronics to create whirling, sizzling atmospheres of confusion, sometimes fast-moving burbles of percussion and synths, at other moments pushing distorted hissing and confrontational tones to the front. The aptly-named "Dazed" begins with a cinematic feel, then its galactic drones give way to static and metallic scrapes. "Positron in Bloom" is like a chorus of machine voices shouting angry curses into space, and "Dreaming Insects" sounds as if the titular creatures are being pulled downstream in fast-moving rapids. Oscillating between menacing and humorous, End of Trilogy's bite-sized pieces of surrealist electronics are never boring.

Mason Jones

 Alexander Biggs — Hit or Miss (Native Tongue Music Publishing)

Hit or Miss by Alexander Biggs

Alexander Biggs blunts sharp, stinging lyrics in the sweetest sort of strummy indie-pop, working very much in the Elliott Smith style of sincerity edged with lacerating irony. “All I Can Do Is Hate You” finds a queasy intersection between soft pop and tamped down rage, Biggs murmuring phrases like “I want you to fuck me til I can’t say your name,” but melodically, over cascades of acoustic guitar. “Madeline” is the pick of the litter here, a dawdling jangle of guitar framing knife-sharp lyrics about romantic disillusionment. “Miserable,” sports a bit of lap steel for emotional resonance, demonstrating once more, if you had any doubt, that very sad songs can make you feel better somehow. Biggs is good at both the softness and the sting, and for guy-with-a-guitar albums, that’s what you need.

Jennifer Kelly

 Christer Bothén 3 — Omen (Bocian)

Omen by Christer Bothén 3

Dusted’s collective consciousness has spent a lot of time considering Blank Forms’ recent publication, Organic Music Societies, which considers Don and Moki Cherry’s convergence of artistic and familial efforts during the 1960s and 1970s, as well as the two archival recordings by Don and associates, which shed light upon his Scandinavian musical activities. All three are worth your attention, but their liveliness is shaded by the awareness that almost every hopeful soul involved is no longer with us. But Christer Bothén, who introduced Don to the donso ngoni and subsequently played in his bands for many years, is not only among the living, he’s got breath to spare. This trio recording doesn’t delve into the African sounds that bonded Bothén and Don. Rather, the Swede’s bass clarinet draws bold and emphatically punctuated melodic lines, driven by a steaming rhythm section that takes its cues from Ornette Coleman’s mid-1960s trio recordings. This music may not sound new, but it’s full of lived-in knowledge and vigor.

Bill Meyer

Briars of North America — Supermoon (Brassland)

Supermoon by Briars of North America

New York-based trio Briars of North America take patient, painterly, occasionally cosmic approach to folk music. With “Sala,” Supermoon sounds like a backwoods Sigur Ros. A falsetto voice intoning a made-up language arcs elegantly over sustained waves of electric piano. Soon after, the album touches down into more grounded guitar-and-cello territory on pieces such as “Island” and “Chirping Birds,” which bring to mind Nick Drake, albeit less contrary or withdrawn. At the album’s midway point, the listener is carried into the aether with the eerie sustained brass and wordless vocals of the eight-minute “The Albatross of Infinite Regress.” A similar space is explored at the album’s end with the 12-minute “Sleepy Not Sleepy,” as strings and warbling synthesizer tones intermingle with the return of the made-up language. Though the band’s more conventional vocal-led songs, such as “Spring Moon,” are decent enough, Briars of North America touch upon something expansive and ineffable when they explore their more experimental side.

Tim Clarke

 Bryan Away — Canyons to Sawdust (self-released)

Chicago-based actor, composer and multi-instrumentalist Elliot Korte releases music under the moniker Bryan Away. His new album, Canyons to Sawdust, begins with what feels like two introductions. “Well Alright Then” is a Grizzly Bear-style scene-setter for wordless voices, strings and woodwinds, while “Within Reach” sounds like a tentative cover of Radiohead’s “Pyramid Song” that runs out of steam before it had the chance to build momentum. The first full song, single “The Lake,” gets the album up and running in earnest with its melancholy piano and string arrangement spiked with pizzicato plucks and bright acoustic guitar figures. Half Waif lends her vocal talents to “Dreams and Circumstance,” another highlight featuring some lovely interplay between guitar arpeggios and drum machine. One pitfall of exploring romantic musical territory is the risk of sounding a tad saccharine, and the weakest links in the album, companion tracks “Scenes From a Marriage” and “Scenes From a Wedding,” have the kind of performative tone you’d expect to find on the soundtrack of a mainstream romantic comedy. Elsewhere, though, Korte’s judgment is sound, and there’s plenty of elegant music to be found. Fans of Sufjan Stevens will no doubt find a lot to like, and it’ll be interesting to see where Bryan Away ventures next.

Tim Clarke

 Jonas Cambien Trio — Nature Hath Painted Painted The Body (Clean Feed)

Nature Hath Painted the Body by Jonas Cambien Trio

On its third album, the Jonas Cambien Trio has attained such confidence that it’s willing to mess with its signature sound. The Oslo-based combo’s fundamental approach is to stuff the expressive energy and textural adventure of free jazz into compositions that are by turns intricate and rhythmically insistent but always pithy. This time, the Belgian-born pianist Cambien also plays soprano sax and organ. The former, stirred into André Roligheten’s bundle of reed instruments, brings airy respite from the music’s tight structures; the latter, dubbed into locked formation with the piano and jostled by Andreas Wildhagen’s restlessly perambulating percussion, expands the music’s tonal colors. The tunes themselves have grown more catchy, so much so that their twists and turns only become apparent with time and repeat listening.

Bill Meyer

Ferran Fages / Lluïsa Espigolé — From Grey To Blue (Inexhaustible Editions)

From Grey To Blue by Ferran Fages

When discussion turns to a pianist’s touch, it’s tempting to think mainly of what they do with their fingers. But it must be said that Lluïsa Espigolé exhibits some next-level footwork on this realization of Ferran Fages’ From Grey To Blue. Fages is a multi-instrumentalist who functions equally persuasively within the realms of electroacoustic improvisation and heavy jazz-rock, but for this piece, which was devised specifically for Espigolé, he uses written music and an instrument he doesn’t play, the piano, to engage with resonance and melody. The three-part composition advances with extreme deliberation, often one note at a time, turning the tune into a ghostly presence and foregrounding the details of the decay of each sound. This music is so sparse that the shift to chords in the third section feels dramatically dense after a half hour of single sounds and corresponding silences. The elements of this music have been sculpted with such exquisite control that one wonders if Catalonia has looked into insuring Espigolé’s feet; her way with the piano’s pedals is a cultural resource.

Bill Meyer   

 Grandbrothers — All the Unknown (City Slang)

All the Unknown by Grandbrothers

The duo known as Grandbrothers hooks a grand piano up to an array of electronic interfaces, deriving not just the clear, gorgeous notes you expect, but also a variety of percussive and sustained sounds from the classic keyboard. In this third album from the two—that’s pianist Erol Sarp and electronic engineer Lukas Vogel—construct intricate, joyful collages, working clarion melodies into sharp, pointillist backgrounds. The obvious reference is Hauscka, who also works with prepared piano and electronics, but rather than his moody beauties, these compositions pulse with rave-y, trance-y exhilaration. If you ever wondered what it would sound like if the Fuck Buttons decided to cover Steve Reich, well, maybe like this, precise and complex and shimmering, but also huge and triumphant. Good stuff.

Jennifer Kelly

 id m theft able — Well I Fell in Love with the Eye at the Bottom of the Well (Pogus Productions)

Well I Fell in Love With the Eye at the Bottom of the Well by id m theft able

Al Margolis’ Pogus Productions imprint has cast its gaze toward the strange happenings in Maine, netting a mutant form of electroacoustic wizardry in the process. Scott Spear is the one-man maelstrom known as id m theft able, an incredibly prolific and confounding presence in the American northeast. He draws influence from musique concrète and sound poetry, but adds a whimsical spirit, a tinker’s ingenuity and the comedic timing of a master prankster to his compositions. Sometimes this leads to the bemusement of his audience, but he tempers any surface madness with an endless curiosity and a playful sense of the meaning of the word music. Well I Fell in Love with the Eye at the Bottom of the Well ostensibly came to be via Spear’s desire to create a doo-wop tune. Only Spear himself knows whether this is fact or fiction, because it is clear from the opening moments of “Shun, Unshun and Shun” that this disc is full of sonic non-sequiturs, amplified clatter and delightful mouth happenings that are as far removed from doo-wop as possible. The madness is frequently tempered with beautiful moments: a broken music box serenades a flock of chirping birds in the middle of a mall, Spear hypnotically chants at a landscape of crickets, flutes pipe along to the patter of rain on a window. As one gets deeper into the record, the sound poetry aspects become more and more pronounced, such as on “The Curve of the Earth” and the closing piece, “Purple Rain.” Those seeking a humor-filled gateway drug into that somewhat perilous corner of the sonic spectrum would be wise to pop an ear in the direction of this frenetic assemblage of sound.

Bryon Hayes

Mia Joy — Spirit Tamer (Fire Talk)

Spirit Tamer by Mia Joy

Mia Joy turns the temperature way down on gauzy Spirit Tamer, constructing translucent castles in the air out of musical elements that you can see and hear right through. The artist, known in real life as Mia Rocha, opens with a brief statement of intent in a one-minute title track that wraps wisps of vocal melody with indistinct but lovely sustained tones. The whole track feels like looking at clouds. Other cuts are more substantial, with muted rock band instruments like acoustic and electric guitars and drum machines, but even indie-leaning “Freak” and "Ye Old Man,” are quiet epiphanies. Rocha sounds like she is singing to herself softly, inwardly, without any thought of an audience, but also so close that it tickles the hair in your ears. Rocha closes with a cover of Arthur Russell’s “Our Last Night Together,” letting rich swells of piano stand in for cello, but tracing the subtle, undulating lines of his melody in an airy register, an octave or two higher. Like Russell, Rocha sets up an interesting interplay between deep introversion and presentation for the public eye; she’s not doing it for us, but we’re listening anyway.

Jennifer Kelly  

 Know//Suffer — The Great Dying (Silent Pendulum Records)

The Great Dying by KNOW//SUFFER

It’s not inaccurate to describe The Great Dying as a hardcore record. You’ll hear all the burly breakdowns; buzzing, overdriven guitars; and grimly declaimed vocals that characterize the genre, which since the mid-1990s has moved ever closer to metal. But Know//Suffer have consistently infused their music with sonic elements associated with other genres of heavy music. Most of the El Paso band’s 2019 EP bashed and crashed along with grindcore’s psychotic, sprinting energy. The Great Dying is a longer record, and it slows down the proceedings considerably. There are flirtations with sludge, and even with noise rock’s ambivalent gestures toward melody: imagine Tad throwing down with a mostly-sober version of Eyehategod, and you’re more than halfway there. As ever, Toast Williams emotes forcefully, giving word to a very contemporary version existential dread. But there’s frequently a political edge to the lyrics on this new record. On “Thumbnail,” he sings, “I swallow what must be hidden / Hoping assimilation makes me whole / The whole that everyone thinks I am / Smiling under this mask knowing / I’m not hiding my face in public.” “Assimilation” is a loaded word, especially on the Southern Border, and it’s no joke walking around in public as a proud black man anywhere in Texas. Wearing a mask as you walk into Target? P.O.C. stand a chance of getting shot. Know//Suffer still sound really pissed off, but the objects of their anger seem increasing outside of their tortured psyches, located in the lifeworld’s social planes of struggle. That gives their grim music an even harder charge, and makes Williams’s performances of rage even more powerful.  

Jonathan Shaw  

 Heimito Künst — Heimito Künst (Dissipatio)

HEIMITO KÜNST by Heimito Künst

The debut album from Italian experimental instrumentalist Heimito Künst, recorded over several years in his home studio, uses an array of electronic and primitive instrumentation to create an overall woozy, dark atmosphere. From groaning, atonal slabs of organ, like a detuned church service, to murmuring field recordings and scrapings, these seven tracks are less like songs and more like unsettling journeys through sound. Pieces like "Talking to Ulises" blend quiet Farfisa tones and a wordlessly singing voice in the distance. Ironically, although the final track is titled "Smoldering Life", it's unexpectedly brighter, with major-key synth notes over the cloudy sound of a drum being bashed to pieces before ending with an almost gentle, summertime feel.

Mason Jones

Jeanne Lee — Conspiracy (moved-by-sound)

Conspiracy by JEANNE LEE

Lots of 1960s and 1970s jazz reissues offer beautiful music, but few redefine how liberating improvised music can be. Conspiracy, originally recorded in 1974 by Lee on vocals with an ensemble that includes Sam Rivers and Gunter Hampel, falls into the latter category without feeling forced. It combines sound poetry, the conversation of spontaneity, and grooves that don’t stay on repetition but still get ingrained into your brain somehow. Best digested in a contemplative sitting, the album demands you give your whole attention to the direction of the music and words mixed with extended vocal techniques. The sound shifts from a full-on medley of flutes, drums, bass and horns with voice, to more minimal experiments. The recording is clean and uncluttered, even at its busiest. A lushly enjoyable listen.

Arthur Krumins   

 Sarah Neufeld — Detritus (Paper Bag)

Detritus by Sarah Neufeld

Sarah Neufeld’s third solo album grew out of a collaboration with the Toronto choreographer Peggy Baker, begun before the pandemic but dealing anyway with loss, intimacy and grief. The violinist and composer works, as a consequence with a strong sense of movement, underlining rhythms with repeated, slashing motifs in her own instrument and pounding drums (that’s Jeremy Gara, who, like Neufeld, plays in Arcade Fire). You can imagine movement to nearly all these songs. “With Love and Blindness” rushes forward in a wild swirl of strings, given weight by the buzz of low-toned synthesizer and airiness in the layer of denatured vocals; you see whirling, bending, graceful gestures. “The Top” proceeds in quicker, more playful patterns; agile kicks and jumps and shimmies are implied in its contours. “Tumble Down the Undecided” has a raw, passionate undertow, its play of octave-separated notes frantic and agitated and the drumming, when it comes, fairly gallops. This latter track is perhaps the most enveloping, the notes caroming wildly in all directions, in the thick of the struggle but full of joy.

Jennifer Kelly

Aaron Novik — Grounded (Astral Editions)

Grounded by Aaron Novik

Aaron Novik is a clarinetist with an extensive background in jazz, klezmer, rock and in-between stuff, but you wouldn’t know any of that from listening to this tape. Its ten numbered instrumentals sound more derived from the sound worlds of 1970s PBS documentaries, Residents records of similar vintage, and Pop Corn’s fluke hit, “Pop Corn.” Recorded during the spring of 2020, when Novik’s new neighborhood, Queens, became NYC’s COVID central, it manifests coping strategy that many people learned well last year; when the outside world is fucked and scary, retreat to a room and then head down a rabbit hole. In this case, that meant sampling Novik’s clarinets and arranging them into perky, bobbing instrumentals. The sounds themselves aren’t processed, but it turns out that when recontextualized, long, blown tones and keypad clatter sound a lot like synths and mechanized beats. There’s a hint of subconscious longing in this music. While it was made in a time and place when many people didn’t leave the house, it sounds like just the thing for outdoor constitutionals with a Walkman.

Bill Meyer  

 Off Peak Arson — S-T (Self-released)

Self Titled by Off Peak Arson

Presumably named after the Truman's Water song — a fairly obscure name check, indeed — Off Peak Arson hail from Memphis, TN. Their debut EP's five songs are less reminiscent of their namesakes than of heavier, noisier bands like Zedek-era Live Skull, Dustdevils and Sonic Youth. Which is not a bad thing at all. The four-piece leverage the dual guitars to nicely intense effect, and with all four members contributing vocals there's a lot going on, at times blending an interesting sing-song pop feel with the twisty-noisy guitar. The band have a way of finding memorable hooks amidst sufficient cacophony to keep things challenging while also somehow catchy. Keep your ears open for more from this quartet.

Mason Jones

 Barre Phillips / John Butcher / Ståle Liavik Solberg — We Met – And Then (Relative Pitch)

We met - and then by Phillips, Butcher, Solberg

In 2018, ECM Records issued End To End, a CD by double bassist Barre Phillips which capped a half-century of solo recording. You might expect this act to signal the winding down of the California-born, France-based improviser’s career; after all, he was born in 1934. And yet, in 2018 he played the first, but not the last, concert by this remarkable trio, which is completed by British soprano/tenor saxophonist John Butcher and Norwegian percussionist Ståle Liavik Solberg. Recorded in Germany and Norway during 2018 and 2019, this CD presents an ensemble whose members are strong in their individual concepts, but are also committed to making music that is completed by acts of collective imagination. The music is in constant flux, but purposeful. This intentionality is expressed not only through action, but through the conscious yielding of space, as though each player knows what openings will be best occupied by one of their comrades.

Bill Meyer

Round Eye — Culture Shock Treatment (Paper +Plastick)

“Culture Shock Treatment,” the lead-off track from this unhinged and ecletic album, swings like 1950s rock and roll, a sax frolicking in the spaces between sing-along choruses. And yet, the gleeful skronk goes a little past freewheeling, spinning off into chaos and wheeling back in again. Picture Mark Sultan trying to ride out the existential disorder of early Pere Ubu, add a horn line and step way back, because this is extremely unruly stuff. Round Eye, a band of expatriates now living in Shanghai, slings American heartlands oddball post-punk into unlikely corners. Frantic jackhammer hardcore beats (think Black Flag) assault free-from experimental calls and responses (maybe Curlew?) in “5000 Miles, “ and as a kicker, it’s a commentary on ethno-nationalist repression (“Thank…the country. Thank…the culture”). “I Am the Foreigner” hums and buzzes with exuberance, like a hard-edged B-52s, but it’s about the alienation that these Westerners most likely experience, every day in the Middle Kingdom. This is one busy album, exhausting really, a whac-a-mole entertainment where things keep popping out of holes and getting hammered back, but it is never, ever dull.

Jennifer Kelly

 So Cow — Bisignis (Dandy Boy)

Bisignis by So Cow

This new So Cow record is a mood. Specifically, that mood during the third and “least fun” of Ireland’s lockdowns, when you head to your shed and bash out an album about everything that’s been lodged in your craw during a year of isolation — including, of all things, the crowd at a Martha Wainwright show (on “Requests”). And while sole Cow member Brian Kelly might have dubbed the record Bisignis, the Old English word for anxiety, it’s his discontent that takes center stage. “Talking politics with friends/Jesus Christ it never ends” Kelly sings on early highlight “Leave Group” before employing a guitar solo that could pass for some seriously fried bagpipes to help clear the room. This album takes the opposite approach of The Long Con, the project’s 2014 Goner Records one-off where So Cow made more complex moves towards XTC and Futureheads territory but obscured its greatest weapon: Kelly’s deadpan wit. And while a couple of these songs overstay their welcome with their sheer garage punk simplicity, others like “Somewhere Fast” work in the opposite way and win your ears over with repeat listens. “You are the reason I’m getting out of my own way,” Kelly sings, and in doing so has produced the project’s best full-length in a decade. So what? So Cow!

Chris Liberato 

 Taqbir — Victory Belongs to Those Who Fight for a Right Cause (La Vida Es Un Mus)

Victory Belongs To Those Who Fight For A Right Cause by Taqbir

In our super-saturated musical environment, another eight-minute, 7” record of scorching punk burners isn’t much of an event. But the appearance of Taqbir’s Victory Belongs to Those Who Fight for a Right Cause (the title is almost longer than the record itself) is at the very least a significant occurrence. The band comes from Morocco and features a woman out front, declaiming any number of contemporary socio-political ills. So there’s little wonder that the Internet isn’t bursting with info about Taqbir; you can find a Maximumrocknroll interview, some chatter about the record here and there, and not much else. It must take enormous courage to make music like this in Morocco, and even more to be a woman making music like this. The long reign of King Mohammed IV has edged the country toward marginal increments of cultural openness — if not thoroughgoing political reform — but conservative Islam and economic struggle are still dominant forces, combining to keep women relegated to submissive social roles. And the band is not fucking around: their name is a Moroccan battle cry, synonymous with “Alu Akbar!” Their repurposing of that slogan in support of their anti-traditionalist, anti-religious, anti-capitalist positions likely makes life in a place like Tangier or Casablanca pretty hard. The songs? They’re really good. Check out “Aisha Qandisha” (named for a folkloric phantasm that ambiguously mobilizes the feminine as murderous and rapacious monster): the music slashes and burns with just the right dash of melody, the vocals go from a simmer to a full-on rolling boil. Taqbir! y’all. Stay safe, stay strong and make some more records.

Jonathan Shaw

 TOMÁ — Atom (Self-Release)

Atom by TOMÁ

Tomá Ivanov operates in interstices between smooth jazz and soul-infused electronics, splicing bits of torchy world traditions in through the addition of singers. You could certainly draw connections to the funk-leaning IDM of artists like Flying Lotus and Dam-Funk, where pristine instrumental sounds—strings, piano, percussion—meet the pop and glitch of cyber-soul. Guest artists flavor about half the tracks, pushing the music slightly off its center towards rap (“A Different You featuring I Am Tim”), quiet storm soul (“Outsight featuring Vivian Toebich”), falsetto’d art pop (“Catharsis featuring Lou Asril”) or dreaming soul-jazz experiments (“Blind War featuring Ben LaMar Gay”). Thoughout, the Bulgarian composer and guitarist paces expansive ambiences with shuffling, staggering beats, roughing up slick surfaces with just enough friction to keep things interesting.

Jennifer Kelly  

 The Tubs — Names EP (Trouble In Mind)

Names EP by The Tubs

“I don’t know how it works” declared The Tubs on their debut single, but they’re diving right in anyways on its follow-up, Names, with four songs that explore the self and self-other relationship. Their cover of Felt’s “Crystal Ball” tightens the musical tension of the original in places but still allows enough slack for singer Owen Williams to stretch the lyrical refrain — about the ability of another to see us better than we see ourselves — into a more melancholy shape than Lawrence. Of the EP’s three originals, Felt’s influence is most obvious in George Nicholls’ guitar work on “Illusion,” especially when the change comes and his lead spirals off Deebank-style behind Williams while he questions his connection to his own reflection. “Is it just an illusion staring back at me?” “The Name Song” is the longest one here at over three minutes, and in a similar way to The Feelies, it feels like it could go on forever, which might prove useful if Williams adds more names to his don’t-care-about list. “Two Person Love” is the best track of the bunch, though, with its classic sounding riff that swoops in and out allowing room for the chiming and chugging rhythm section to do the hard work. The relationship in the song might have been “pissed up the wall,” as Williams in his Richard Thompson-esque drawl puts it, but The Tubs certainly seem to have figured out how this music thing works.

Chris Liberato

 Venus Furs — S-T (Silk Screaming)

Venus Furs by Venus Furs

Venus Furs sounds like band, but in fact, it’s one guy, Paul Krasner, somehow amassing the squalling roar of psychedelic guitar rock a la Brian Jonestown Massacre or Royal Baths all by himself. These songs have a large-scale swagger and layers and layers of effected guitars, as on the careening “Friendly Fire,” or hailstorm assault of “Paranoia.” A ponderous, swaying bass riff girds “Living in Constant.” Its nodding repetition grounds radiating sprays of surf guitar. You have to wonder how all this would play out in concert, with Krasner running from front mic to bass amp to drum kit as the songs unfold, but on record it sounds pretty good. Long live self-sufficiency.

Jennifer Kelly

 Witch Vomit — Abhorrent Rapture (20 Buck Spin)

Abhorrent Rapture by Witch Vomit

Witch Vomit has one of the best names in contemporary death metal (along with Casket Huffer, Wharflurch and Snorlax — perversely inspired handles, all), and the Portland-based band has been earning increasing accolades for its records, as well. They are deserved. Witch Vomit plays fast, dense and dissonant songs, bearing the impress of Incantation’s groundbreaking (gravedigging?) records. Does that mean it’s “old school”? Song titles from the band’s previous LP Buried Deep in a Bottomless Grave (2019) certainly played to traditionalists’ tastes: “From Rotten Guts,” “Dripping Tombs,” “Fumes of Dying Bodies.” And so on. This new EP doesn’t indicate any significant changes in trajectory or tone, but the songwriting makes the occasional move toward melody. See especially the second half of “Necrometamorphosis,” which has a riff or two that one could almost call “pleasant.” If that seems paradoxical, check out the EP’s title. Is that an event, a gruesome skewing of Christianity’s big prize for the faithful? Or is it an affective state, in which abject disgust somehow builds to ecstatic transport? Who knows. For the band’s part, Witch Vomit keeps chugging, thumping and squelching along, doling out doleful songs like “Purulent Burial Mound.” Yuck. Sounds about right, dudes.

Jonathan Shaw

 yes/and — s-t (Driftless Recordings)

yes/and by yes/and

This collaboration between guitarist Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and producer Joel Ford (Oneohtrix Point Never) is an elusive collection of shape-shifting instrumentals. Each piece is built around Duffy’s guitar, yet the timbre and mood tends to switch dramatically between tracks. The album’s run-time is fairly evenly split between dark, atmospheric pieces, such as “More Than Love” and “Making A Monument,” and hopeful, glimmering miniatures, such as “Centered Shell” and the wonderfully titled “In My Heaven All Faucets Are Fountains.” “Learning About Who You Are” looms large at the album’s heart, as nearly eight minutes of hazy, wind-tunnel drone pulses and reverberates across the stereo space. Despite the variation in tone, each track stakes out its own territory in the tracklist, and it’s only “Tumble” that comes across as an unrealized idea. While it’s only half an hour, yes/and feels longer, its circuitous routes opening up all kinds of possibilities.

Tim Clarke

[wildflowerwattpad0217]

My Supernatural Finale Fix It Fic.

So, I’m not gonna lie to you. It’s mainly about them bringing Cas back.

Masterlist

It was over. Chuck lost. He was no longer writing this story, he had no control of where this story was going to go because in this world he created, our Sam and Dean were different, our Castiel, our Jack. Chuck was powerless, he was human for the first time in his whole life. He had no control over what the boys did now, they had broken the cycle. The story was now in their hands. However, there was one thing Dean couldn’t get out of his head and that was Cas. How Cas had saved him, sacrificed himself to the Empty so that he could go help save the world but it wasn’t just that, it was the words he said in the goodbye that hurt him, that resonated with him. It made him rethink everything from the past eleven years.

“I love you.” The scene repeated itself in his head all night until his alarm went off. He reached over and dismissed it, sitting up in bed as Miracle, his new dog, jumped in his lap. He rubbed Miracle’s head as he looked over to the blood-stained jacket that very night that was hanging off the back of his chair. Reminding Dean that Cas saved him from hell and he knew what he had to do, he had to save him. He had to do this one last thing out of spite to Chuck to prove Cas wasn’t some expendable soldier but his home. With that, he got up from his bed with Miracle and walked into the kitchen where Sam was making breakfast.

“We have one last thing to do,” Dean told his brother and Sam looked at him as the toast pooped out of the toaster.

“And what’s that?” Sam questioned.

“We need to save Cas, if we don’t, it’s just proving Chuck wins. Chuck gets his ending. This is supposed to be us rewriting our story, Cas is a part of that story.” The shorter said, looking at his brother.

“If you want to do it, let’s do it.” The moose-like agreed. “But I have to ask, did he say anything before he left?”

“No.” Dean lied.

“Bullshit but okay.” Sam thought but he did say, “Well, let’s get fueled up, and then we can get started.” Dean nodded in agreement, walking up to the toaster and grabbing the hot toast, then almost dropping it but he caught it and Sam laughed at him, receiving a dirty look from Dean.

______________________________________________

Later, books were scattered all over the table of the library. “I don’t know if we can do this, Dean. I can’t find anything about how to raise an angel out of the Empty. I can’t even find a lot about the Empty.” Sam told his older brother.

“We need to keep looking. He would do the same for us.” Dean told his younger brother. Then the bunker door opened revealing Eileen.

“Eileen? What are you doing here?” Sam said while signing to her.

“Well, I heard you trying to find a way to bring Cas back, so thought I’d help,” Eileen said while signing before coming down the stairs.

“Thanks, Eileen.” Dean nodded, before using the little sign language he knows to say thank you.

“No problem, Dean.” She nodded before sitting next to Sam and getting into one of the books. Then Dean’s phone began to ring and on the lock screen, it said, Claire.

“Did you tell Jody that Cas was dead?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I did.” The younger brother told him and Dean got up and answered it.

“Hey, kid,” Dean answered.

“Dean, why didn’t you tell me Cas was dead?” Claire asked, obviously angry.

“Claire, I understand you are upset but soon after he died everyone disappeared and Jack just brought everyone back,” Dean explained to her.

“Fine.” She sighed. “What happened at least?”

“He sacrificed himself to the Empty to save me and kill Billie.” The man sighed.

“Is there any way we can bring him back?” She questioned.

“We are trying to find a way right now, kid, promise,” Dean promised.

“Ok, do you need help?”

“Kid, I don’t know where this is going to take me and I am not going to put you in harm's way like that,” Dean told her.

“Ok, I’ll be there soon.” Claire then hung up.

“That is not what I meant! Claire!” The short man yelled into the phone before realizing she hung up. “Son of a bitch.”

“I’m guessing she’s going to come to the bunker? Wait, does she even know where the bunker is?” Sam questioned.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out.” He sighed before we went back to research.

______________________________________________

Eventually, Claire made it, and we were working around the clock to find a way to bring Cas back. “Guys, I think I may have something or at least an idea.” Sam sighed and we all looked at him.

“Go on,” Dean told his brother.

“What if we summoned the empty?” Sam suggested.

“Then what?” Claire asked.

“Then talk to them, I guess.” He sighed. “We’ve been through all of these books backward and forwards. This may be our only option.”

“Then let’s do it.” The eldest agreed.

“I’m coming with,” Claire said.

“No, you are not. You are staying here.” Sam told her. “The Empty is a very dangerous cosmic being and if Cas or Jody found out we let you go with us, honestly, I’d be more scared of Jody than I ever was of Chuck.”

“Agreed.” Dean nodded.

“Fine.” She sighed, “But isn’t Jack basically God now? Couldn’t he just bring Cas back from the dead?”

“He said he wasn’t going to interfere, so we haven’t asked,” Sam admitted.

“Okay, but Castiel was practically a father to him, why wouldn’t he bring him back from the dead?” The blonde questioned the brothers and they looked at each other.

“She has a good point,” Dean admitted.

“Yeah, I do, Hasselhoff.” She rolled her eyes.

“Enough, Miley.” He looked at her. “We don’t even know if Jack will do it and we don’t know what he’s doing or how to get a hold of him so we might as well go ahead and summon the empty.”

“Actually we do, Dean,” Sam told his brother and Dean looked at his younger brother. “He said he wasn’t going to answer prayer anymore but I’m sure if it was from us, the people who help raise him, he would.”

“Sam’s right.” Eileen agreed, “He has a soft spot for you two.”

“Fine, we can try Jack but if he doesn’t show up, we are going to summon the Empty.” The eldest finalized.

“Agreed.” Sam nodded, worried about his brother’s will to do anything to get the angel that had raised him out of hell back.

______________________________________________

So they decided to go to where it all started. Pontiac, Illinois, where Dean and Bobby first summoned Cas, Sam and Dean took the Impala as AC/DC blared in the background, the brothers stayed silent. Until Sam reached over and turned down the music. “What’s wrong? What did Cas say to you? Don’t say anything because I know you’re lying to me, Dean.” Sam questioned.

“Sam, drop it,” Dean warned.

“No Dean, something is obviously wrong-” Dean cut off his brother almost with a hiss.

“Sammy, I said drop it.”

“This time, no.” Sam finalized, “Not when you're affecting everyone around you.” Then suddenly Dean stopped the car and looked at his brother.

“Fine, you wanna know the truth, Sammy. Before Cas sacrificed himself for me he told me he loved me.” Dean admitted to his brother, “Are you happy now?”

“Yeah, actually, I am.” Sam smiled, “It’s about goddamn time too. The eye-fucking was getting annoying.”

“Wait, you knew?!” The eldest questioned.

“Congrats, Dean. You are officially the last person to know.” The youngest smirked. “But my question is, do you share the same feelings?”

Dean didn’t answer him instead, he replied, “Bitch.”

Sam smiled and looked at his brother, “Jerk.” Dean then turned to the steering wheel and put Baby into drive and turned the music back up. Thinking, had it been so obvious this whole time and I was just too blind to even see it? ______________________________________________

We got to the barn it looked just as Dean remembered, there were sigils all over the walls still and it was like no one had touched this place for 11 years because there was still some broken glass from the light bulbs bursting. “So, this is it? This is where you and Bobby summoned Cas?” Sam questioned his older brother.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean confirmed, smiling at the memory.

“Who are you?” Dean questioned the thing known as Castiel.

“I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” Castiel told him.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” The green-eyed boy said before plunging the demon knife into Castiel’s chest. He looked down, unconcerned with it before ripping it out.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” Sam questioned, “Do we just pray to Jack then and hope?”

“I’m assuming.” The eldest sighed.

“Okay, let’s give it a shot then.” Sam sighed before closing his eyes and folding his hands, “Jack, buddy, it’s me Sam. We want your help with something, it’s Cas. We don’t want to leave him in the Empty and we want your help getting him out… Amen?” He opened his eyes and rested his hands at his side. “Did it work?”

“Doesn’t look like it so far.” Dean sighed.

“Well, give it some time, I’m sure he’ll come.” The youngest reassured his brother.

______________________________________________

They waited a few hours and not even a sign that he was going to show so Dean had enough. “It’s been hours, Sammy. We are summoning the Empty.” Dean finalized.

“And do what exactly? What’s your plan?” Sam questioned.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Well, we are on that bridge, getting ready to cross it.” The youngest Winchester sighed, “So, what’s the plan?”

“Get Cas back,” Dean told him.

“So, you have no plan?” He asked.

“I just told you my plan.” The eldest said.

“That is not a plan Dean, that is an end goal!”

“You are the one who suggested it in the first place!” Dean argued, shutting Sam up. “So are you going to help me or are you going to stand there?”

“Fine.” Sam sighed, admitting defeat. “Let’s do the spell.” And so our heroes did the spell, seeing a black mass in front of them. That’s all it was. Darkness. They shared a look as someone looking like Meg stepped out of the portal. “Meg?”

“Hiya, Sammy,” Meg smirked, “But no, this isn’t your Meg, I’m just borrowing her meat suit at the moment. I am The Shadow. The thing that rules the Empty and you just made a horrible, horrible mistake.” You could tell but the second it was getting angrier.

“What mistake did we make?” Dean questioned with a gulp.

“You woke me up.” It said with an airy voice, that was frightening.

“Enough,” Jack said, finally popping down here.

“Nephilim.” The Shadow acknowledged Jack.

“Shadow you can leave, I’ll be taking the angel Castiel with me.” He told the cosmic being.

“Fine have it your way. You are the new ‘god’ after all, bossman.” It rolled its eyes. Then pushing Cas out of the portal, pushing him so he is laying down. “Happy?”

“Very.” Jack smiled.

“Bossman?” Sam questioned as the portal closed and Dean had his eyes fixated on Cas.

“Cas?” Dean questioned rushing towards him.

“Dean?” Cas questioned, confused, getting up from the ground.

“Cas!” He smiled, kissing him. Sam was kinda shocked that Dean kissed Cas and it wasn’t the other way around. Dean pulled back to see his reaction and Cas smiled. “I love you too, by the way.” The closeted man admitted in front of his brother, Jack, and most importantly the love of his life. Cas then pulled him into another kiss without hesitation and they both smiled into it.

______________________________________________

I wish I was able to say they lived happily ever after and I can because I am confident that Eileen and Sam spent their life together, the same goes for Dean and Cas but just because they move on doesn’t mean another big bad won’t call them towards the life of hunting.

Readers,

I’m not sorry for making this gay.

-A bisexual bitch.

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

Hallmark Stars Nikki DeLoach and Andrew Walker Talk Instant Friendship and New Movie Sweet Autumn

The real-life friends open up about their chemistry and connection, bonding over parenthood, and their new Hallmark movie Sweet Autumn

By Kara Warner 

Nikki DeLoach and Andrew Walker have the kind of natural chemistry and charming rapport that has turned into a great long-term friendship and several memorable TV movies.

The actors, both 41, are starring in their third Hallmark movie together, Sweet Autumn, which premieres Saturday. They've been friends since meeting in 2016 and making their first movie together for the Channel, A Dream of Christmas.

"What was really cool is we immediately connected over kids, because we were just being new parents," Walker tells PEOPLE.

"My son Hudson was over a year," adds DeLoach. "So I was still in the, 'How do I do this phase?' for sure. You were a brand, brand spanking new dad."

"I was just like shocked, in the numb kind of phase," jokes Walker. "But I think just immediately, we were two peas in a pod. We're very similar in a lot of ways."

DeLoach agrees, saying that she felt an "instant connection" with Walker, which they sealed toward the start of filming that year with a long, get-to-know-you hang over beers and wings.

"I felt like I had known him my entire life," says DeLoach. "There's just such an ease with Andrew. I do think that there is something that happens, and it doesn't happen for everyone."

Four years later, the actors have expanded their friendship and their families — DeLoach has two sons, Hudson, 6, and Bennet, 3, with husband Ryan Goodell, and Walker and his wife Cassandra have two sons, West, 5, and Wolf, 10 months.

Read on for much more about the two Hallmark fan favorites, including how they have each befriended the other's spouse (a story which includes a wild night of bonding out in Winnipeg that ended at 4 a.m.), making Hallmark movies in the time of COVID-19, and check out the exclusive clip from Sweet Autumn above. 

First impressions 

Andrew Walker: We met on our first movie A Dream for Christmas and obviously, it takes time to get to know somebody that much more, and feel, ultimately, your most comfortable self in front of them. But Nikki was, I can speak for how I felt. It was almost immediate. We went and we had some chicken wings and beer, and just talked and talked about being new parents, and talked about being in Winnipeg, and talked about all the things that you go through as a parent, leaving your kids as well. And balancing work and life.

And then I think what really did it for us, she asked me one weekend, she's like, "Andrew, I hate to ask this, but my husband's coming into town. We're supposed to be in Hawaii right now. He took two weeks off work and I got him to come to Winnipeg. And he's kind of not the happiest about this location. And so are you doing anything fun this weekend, because I've got to work." And I'm like, "Well, I actually got extra tickets to the football game. It's Canadian football, but it's still pretty good. And I've never been to the stadium before, but why don't we meet for a beer before? And we'll just start getting to know each other a little bit." Cut to the second half of the game, I have [her husband, Goodell] in a headlock, we're screaming at the game. It was an immediate connection, We had this great night. We ended up going to watch some more football, and the night, it never ended. We just kept on wanting more. And the next morning Nikki called me, she's like, "What did you do to my husband?" 

Nikki DeLoach: I think you guys got home at like four in the morning or something ridiculous. I was like, I kept looking at the clock and thinking, "It's 1:00 a.m., okay. They're having fun. It's 2:00 a.m.. Okay. 3:00 a.m.. Where are they?" And I didn't want to text, I didn't want to be that girl, so I think somewhere along the way, I just texted and was like, "I don't care what's happening. I just want to make sure that you guys are safe. That's it." And [my husband] texted back, "Super safe. Having a blast. Love you. Go back to sleep." Sometime, at like 4:00 a.m. he crawled into bed. And I was like, "Epic. Epic."

Walker: Now her husband is my entertainment attorney and we're neighbors, in that we live in the same neighborhood. But anyways, Nikki and I now, we're such dear friends, and I think it was apparent the first meeting that we had on A Dream for Christmas. And that movie was amazing. We had such a great cast dynamic. Winnipeg has these local actors that are so generous, and kind, and humble and good.

DeLoach: And for me, literally, it's the same story. Instantly felt like I had known him my entire life. Sometimes you have to find that connective tissue in the moment, and in the scene, and yes, you have to utilize all of your skillset in which to do that. And then other times you just meet people like Andrew and I, who just instantly connected.  Because [working on these movies] you do have to connect really fast. And we played a husband and wife in that movie, so especially when you're playing a relationship like in that, it's really good when that already exists. If you just have an instant connection, it makes it even more believable. 

Third Movie's the Charm — Even During a Pandemic

DeLoach: So we are very fortunate and have just adored each other and each other's families for many years. When this movie happened and Hallmark was like, "Hey, you want to go to Winnipeg to do a movie for Fall Harvest?" And I was thought, "Yeah." And we were looking for our guy, and I texted the producer, Stan Spry. And I said, "What about Andrew?" And he was like, "Oh, I love Andrew, one second." And he called Hallmark, and literally 10 minutes later he said, "They love Andrew for this. Let's see if we can get him." And I had been wanting to work with Andrew again for a really long time. So I can't believe it came together. It was so meant to be.

And I'm so grateful too, because I am so crazy, and a maniac inside of COVID. Anybody who has worked with me, or knows me, knows the lengths to which I've gone to, to protect my family. So having a costar that knows my family and understands how compromised my youngest is meant a lot, because I could text Andrew and say, "Hey, are you cool with testing?" And he's like, "Whatever you need." "Hey, are you cool with this?" "Whatever you need." That was always the response. He was like, "How I can make you feel safe and comfortable and support you?" And so that was huge for me. I knew that, yes, we have great chemistry, and yes, he's a great actor, and yes, we're going to do a good movie, but also how is this experience going to be for me outside of all of that? And so it really was perfect. 

Walker: Even though I've worked with Nikki twice before, the movie we just did right now, it has a way different dynamic than the other two. And I'm really proud of our work that we did on this. And I think a lot of it stemmed from the fact that we were really hands-on with the creative side. And Nikki always is, I think, but I try to bring that to the table.

DeLoach: This specific production specifically, shout out to Stan Spry, and Cartel in Winnipeg. They only have offices in Winnipeg, and also here in LA. And I do just want to shout them out, because they were so on top of it, down to not being able to blow dry our hair in the hair and makeup trailer, because the virus gets in the hair. And so I would blow dry my bangs before I would get to set, or whatever I needed to dry so that it was done. They did such a good job. Even someone like me who is really extremely safe inside of this, felt very comfortable. So crew had to not just wear a mask, but also a face shield. They could not get within 12 feet of an actor without both of those things. And in the hair and makeup trailer specifically, there's no talking unless you are masked, because usually there's all this talking that happens in hair and makeup trailers.

Walker: All the background performers that are in your vicinity, they had to be tested. You keep your own props, as well. So if I had a watch, for example, they disinfect it, but I take care of that watch for the rest of the production. Or if I had a coffee mug in the scene, or Nikki had a briefcase, or something, you're responsible for your props. So you'd have to be aware of resetting yourself.

DeLoach: And you'd get temperature checks every day when you get to set. Andrew and I are tested several times a week. They really did do [everything], and I'm so grateful. I wouldn't have been able to work without all of that. And I'm not saying that all productions are doing that. 

Their Next Collaborations

DeLoach: Andrew and I are both doing the Walk to End Alzheimer's on November 7th. It's a cause that is near and dear to both of our hearts because we've been touched deeply by it by our families. And so Andrew and Cassandra, his kiddos, and then my family, we're all walking on November 7th. The cool thing about the Walks that are happening this year is like, usually if it's in L.A., it's everybody that's in L.A., they get together and you all walk together. But because we're not all getting together to walk, you can walk from anywhere, it's all basically virtual and you can do it from wherever. More people can join and be a part of it. But Andrew also has a juice company that is delicious. Andrew, where can they find their juice?

Walker: It's called Little West and you can get our juice mainly in locations around LA and Southern California. They're up in Northern California as well. Groundworks Coffee, a lot of hotels, the Fairmont, the Four Seasons. You can get our juice at all the grocery stores here [in Los Angeles], at Gelson's, Bristol Farms. And we just signed on with Whole Foods, when Nikki and I were together in Winnipeg. We're rolling out in all of Nevada, Arizona, and all of Southern California stores second week of October.

Walker: And we definitely owe ourselves and our family a [in-person] gathering at some point. We see each other, but we don't. We'll FaceTime, or Nikki will be talking to my wife for two weeks when I don't even know.

DeLoach: I literally talk to [Walker's wife] Cassandra almost every day. I text her about something.

Walker: And I talked to her husband every once in a while too, because if I'm doing a deal or whatever, but Nikki and I don't.

DeLoach: We need to do a trip, actually. We owe ourselves a vacation together because we there's so much time that we need to catch up on. Maybe we'll go to Hawaii, since Ryan was robbed. Rent a big house. We all just go to Hawaii. We give Ryan his trip back.

Walker: Yeah! I like that.

Sweet Autumn premieres Saturday on the Hallmark Channel. 

Link to the full article on people.com right HERE

[hollandspiderling]

Homecoming Redemption || Prologue

Summary: After everything that has happened to Peter, all he wanted was to have some sort of normalcy for his senior year. With the new school year finally underway, so far everything seems to be going to plan. He and his friends are trying to not let the effects of recent events get the best of them and everyone is moving forward. Now with the homecoming dance quickly approaching, what will Peter do once he realizes that he needs to find a date?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: A rom-com series with a hint of angst. Swearing and underage drinking to come. Everyone is 18yrs old in this and all of the Avengers survived the blip. His identity is still a secret after defeating Mysterio because Peter deserves a break and time to breathe after everything he’s been through LOL

Author’s Note: And here is the prologue! I’m really excited about this series and I hope you guys are too! Sorry, it took a while to get up I had a lot of school work to catch up on. But now that all of that is out of the way, I’m hoping to release each part weekly. Let me know what you think! xoxo, Astrid. 

Teaser | Prologue | Chapter One 

“…and that would adjourn today’s meeting. Don’t forget that homecoming is just a couple of weeks away. With that being said, I should expect the posters up during lunch period as well as after school. Any questions?”

You smiled at your council and smiled gratefully at them. These were the people that you spent most of your time with at school and was glad to have them within your orbit. Betty was seated to your left as your vice president while fraternal twins, Keila and Kai, sat to your right as your secretary and treasurer. Alex, your public relations, sat across from you as he sketched out designs for the posters you were about to make. Despite having your reputation as a Stark hang over your shoulders, the people seated around you welcomed you for who you really were. They didn’t care about who you were related to and gave you the credit that you deserved. It didn’t help that the smart gene ran throughout your family and you simply learn and soak up information a lot faster than others.

Ever since you transferred to Midtown High last year, your life had immensely changed within a blink of an eye. Your mom had passed away and the guardianship of your wellbeing was passed on to her brother, Tony Stark. You and your mom had been living in Los Angeles as part of the secondary headquarters and incognito branch for the Avengers. While your mom was in charge of keeping tabs on coordinates and past encounters throughout the world, you were honing on your technical skills. Your mom had always joked about you being the younger and wittier version of her and Tony combined. It was unfortunate that she passed away due to a drunk driver speeding through the intersection she was driving through to get home. Your dad wasn’t in the picture so Tony graciously took you in because he had promised his sister that he would look after you if anything bad happened to her.

It was a whirlwind of a change for you when you had to leave your life in Los Angeles behind and settle into the even more hectic lifestyle of New York. Sure, you had been somewhat familiar with the city whenever you visited Tony for missions or family time during the holidays, but the culture and lifestyle was something you weren’t used to. You did the best you could to get adjusted to Midtown High and kept a low profile to make new friends. Tony had warned you to stay on your guard because if people found out who you were, then some might just try to take advantage of you. True to his word, once word got around that you were related to Tony Stark, the student body unanimously voted for you as their student body president. People tried befriending you left and right, but your mom and Tony taught you better. You kept those that you constantly crossed paths at a distance and the only ones you truly trusted were your council.

“Nah, we’re good Y/N. Thanks for getting us coffee for the day too, you know you didn’t have to.” Keila said as she held up her cup and gave you a bright smile.

“It’s no problem. But with all that we’ve working on, I believe we deserve a break don’t you agree?”

Her brother nodded as he closed up his notebook and leaned against the back of his chair. “As much as I used to hate having these meetings before school started, I learned to look forward to them ever since you took over. We’re ten times more productive and effective than previous councils.”

You smirked and shrugged before passing over the rolls of color Kraft paper towards the twins. “What can I say, I like to get things done. If you need help with these posters, let me know and I’ll send a couple of other people I know your way.”

Kai nodded as he grabbed the paper with Keila’s help and they moved to an empty corner of the classroom to start working on them. Alex followed suit and saluted at you before giving you a cheeky smile. “Appreciate your hard work, Pres.”

You felt someone tap your shoulder and you looked over to see Betty smiling at you. She motioned towards what she was working on throughout the meeting and you nodded in acknowledgment.

You turned your body to face her and she slid her laptop towards you. “What do you think of this design for the fliers?”

Tapping a finger against your chin, your eyes scanned through its contents. The theme of homecoming that year was ironical ‘A Night in Paris.’ Although the trip to Europe was a rough one for everyone in your class, you wanted to everyone to be reminded of the fun times you all had together there. Cliched as it was, your council was all for it when you pitched the idea to them. Now with everything coming to life, the excitement to see your work in real life bubbled inside you whenever the student council meetings were held. After making sure that all of the important information was on the flier, you smiled at Betty as you slid the laptop back to her.

“It’s good for the most part. If it’s possible can you design another one with a day background? Kind of similar to someone sitting in front of a café by the tower. Having two designs could help eyes catch it more.”

She nodded and began to focus on her laptop. “I’ll have it done by the end of the day.”

“Awesome, thanks Betty.”

Your eyes peeped at the clock and nodded in accomplishment. All of what you wanted to touch was completed on time and there was still ten minutes before the first bell rang. Gathering the notes that were scattered in front of you, you stood up from your desk. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and began to make your way out of the classroom.

“I’ll see you guys at lunch! I’m going to make my way over to the office and drop off the request form for the amount we need for everything.”

Your friends said their goodbyes as you headed out the door and blended in with the morning crowd of students getting ready for the day. People said hi to you as you passed, and you greeted them back. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar mop of brown curls and you smiled to yourself. It wouldn’t hurt to take a detour and so you followed your best friend towards his locker. He still hadn’t noticed your presence as you crept up behind him.

Just as you were going to jump on him from behind, he turned around and shook his head. “Not today, missy.”

You playfully huffed and rolled your eyes at him. “Damn your stupid Peter tingle.”

Peter laughed as he turned his attention back to his locker and you took your usual place with leaning against the lockers next to his.

“You just need to work on your stealth, Y/N.”

“Why don’t you just act like a normal person, Parker.”

“Says the person that upgraded her own suit within three hours, Stark.”

You opened your mouth to say something back but couldn’t because he was right. Peter smiled in victory as he stuffed his backpack and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“And what happened to the backpack you had yesterday?”

Peter looked down at the backpack in his hands before looking back at you with a sheepish smile. “It got stolen while I was out patrolling again.”

The two of you began to make your way towards your first class of the day and you punched him in the arm. He winced and exaggerated how hurt he was by pouting while rubbing the area that you hit him.

“Hey, that was mean.”

“That’s what you get for being reckless sometimes. I swear I should install a tracking device into your backpack, Pete.”

His eyes widened and hummed in thought. “Why didn’t I think about that sooner?���

You laughed and shook your head in amusement. “It’s because you immediately throw yourself into anything you care for. So, you mainly act before thinking first.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

You looked up at him as a similar haunting look came over his face and your expression softened. Shaking your head, you nudged him in the stomach, and he gave you a questioning look.

“It’s not because it’s one of your best aspects. It means you're compassionate for those you care about.”

He nodded and took your words into consideration. You noticed his eyebrows started to furrow in thought and you sighed to yourself. Pulling him to the side of the hallway, you put your hands on his shoulders and rubbed them comfortingly.

“Pete, nothing is going to come after us, not for the time being, alright? We all got out of it okay and the way you handled yourself has made you so much stronger.”

Peter looked into your eyes and saw the comforting look you were giving him. He sighed and simply hugged you tight to ground himself. There was still this heavy weight that surrounded him, and he’s been talking to Wanda and Stephen about ways to improve his wellbeing. You’ve been by his side ever since he returned from the blip and it wasn’t helpful that Beck had messed with him so much that there are times where he still believes he’s physically in his nightmares. He was slowly and surely getting better but sometimes there are triggers that he wasn’t even aware of until they happened.

You hugged him back and after a couple moments, the bell rang. Peter sighed before letting you go, and you ruffled his hair. He chuckled as you took a step back and tightened the straps of your backpack. “Feeling better, Parker?

He nodded and said, “A lot better, thanks Stark.”

“I always have your back, now go get to class so you don’t be late.”

“What about you?”

“I need to stop by the office to drop off some things and then I’m heading over.”

“So, I’ll see you after school then?”

You smiled at him and nodded, “See you then, Pete.”

- - - 

The final bell of the day rang, and the voices of students filled the hallways as everyone made their way towards their lockers. Peter sighed in relief as he took his time to pack his things away for the day. It was still tough for him to get used to having things back to how they were, but he was glad that he finally got the break he’s been needing for the longest time. It would be times like this where his anxiety would spike up, feeling as if something big had to happen towards him in order to feel “normal.” He was thankful to have you and Ned in his life to help keep reality in check with him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Peter’s head snapped towards the door to see you leaning against the door frame. A smile crept onto his face as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and shook his head in response. You playfully rolled your eyes and pushed yourself away from the door as he made his way towards you.

“C’mon Pete, I know you better by now. Your face does that little scrunched up expression whenever you get lost in your thoughts.”

Walking side by side, both of you weaved your way through the crowd as he nudged you on the arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.”

“Stop denying it, Parker. I’ve seen that expression on your face countless times whenever we’re on missions together.” You replied.

He gave you a pointed look as he unlocked his locker before shrugging. His eyes focused on grabbing the stuff he needed for the weekend and you raised an eyebrow at him while waiting for an answer. Peter knew that he couldn’t escape you with the gaze you were giving him and let out a sigh. Pursing his lips, he zipped up his backpack and closed his locker before continuing your conversation.

“I just got lost in my thoughts about y’know…” he muttered as you guys made your way out of the school.

Your eyes softened since you knew what he was referring to. For the past year, it hasn’t been easy for you both with the battles involving Thanos and Mysterio. It was most definitely hard on Peter since he was one of the few that had the most impact throughout those dark times. You were one of the few that didn’t actually disappear and learned how to cope with the dramatic change in the world. But when it came to Peter, he was looking forward to finally being normal when your class was going to Europe. Of course, the odds still weren’t in his favor with all that had happened to Mysterio and you tried your best to be that person he could lean on. You lent him your strength when he needed the help and now it finally time for him to take the time to cope and adjust to falling back into how things were like before. Whenever he stayed over at the compound on the weekends, he would always end up knocking on your door in the middle of the night for some company because of his nightmares. If it got too bad, Wanda would help soothe him with her powers. Sometimes Stephen would give him this special concoction he learned that helped ease anxious souls. Peter’s progress has been better as the day pass by and you never forget to tell him how proud you were of him.

You linked arms with Peter, and he looked at you with a thankful gaze. Since you guys were often partnered together for missions, it was easy to mentally communicate with each other. Peter was also the one who helped you adjust to your life in New York. Tony had introduced the two of you when he started his “internship” at Stark Industries, and he took it upon himself to show you every nook and cranny he knew. You gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm and not much was needed to be said as you guys began to make your way towards the subway.

“You guys! Guys, wait up!”

Ned quickly ran up to you guys with a paper in hand and both of you waited for him to catch his breath. ‘Oh, that’s right…’  You thought as you glanced at the paper Ned handed to you and he leaned on Peter for support.

“What’s up, Ned?” Peter asked and you wordlessly handed him the flier.

With an excited smile, Ned pointed towards the paper that Peter was now glancing over and said, “It’s homecoming season!”

Crossing your arms over your chest and shifting your weight onto one of your legs, you titled your head to the side and gave him a questioning gaze.

“So, what about it? The rest of the council and I still need to solidify some details before sending the info to the morning announcements. Was Betty the one that gave you this?”

Ned nodded and Peter looked at him before shifting his gaze towards you. You smiled at him and took the flier back to see the final draft that Betty had made. It was just as you had expected it to be and nodded in approval before folding it up.

“Yeah, she was. She wanted me to pass it to you since she had to stay back and overlook what the yearbook committee was planning. I’m excited, we’re finally all back together and I have a gut feeling that homecoming is going to be right this time around.”

You snickered as you remembered what had happened the last time homecoming happened but one look at Peter’s face made you shut up. He playfully glared at you and you simply stuck out your tongue towards him.

“It’s not my fault that you tend to fall for girls so easily, Parker,” you smirked.

He held his hands up in defense and said, “How was I supposed to know that Liz’s father was going to be the villain I was facing?”

Ned scoffed and said, “This is why you try to get to know the girl first before throwing yourself off the deep end, Pete.”

You high-fived Ned as Peter groaned and nodded in defeat. “Yeah, I know…”

“So…who are you guys asking then?” Ned asked.

You straightened up at the question and pursed your lips in thought. It hadn’t really occurred to you about going with anyone due to your busy schedule, so you shrugged.

“I’m not sure. No one’s really asked me yet and I don’t really have anyone in mind. To be honest, that really hasn’t been on my mind besides making sure this year’s dance will be the one that everyone at Midtown will always remember.”

“That’s oh so very Stark of you,” Ned commented.

You laughed and felt your phone buzz. It was one of the other council members and knowing it was probably about the dance, you excused yourself for a moment to answer the call. Once you were out of hearing sight, Ned turned to Peter with a cheeky smile. He raised an eyebrow at him, and his best friend could clearly see that Peter hadn’t caught on to what he was hinting towards.

With the wriggling of his eyebrows, Ned asked, “So what are you planning to do to ask Y/N?”

Peter’s eyes widened and said, “What do you mean- I mean I can’t- I’m not-”

“Oh, c’mon Pete, stop rambling. Everyone can see that you’ve grown a crush on her.”

“Me? Nah, Ned, you must have got it all wrong- I mean she’s- and I’m-”

Ned rolled his eyes and slung his arm over his best friend’s shoulders. “Alright Pete, no need to get all riled up there. I was just teasing you.”

Peter grumbled and crossed his arms, looking the other way before mumbling, “I don’t have a crush on her…”

“Right, keep telling yourself that bro. I was just hoping you were the one to ask her because rumor has it that Brad is trying to ask her to homecoming.”

Peter’s head whipped around to meet Ned’s gaze with his jaw dropped.

“What?!”

Ned could only shake his head in disappointment at his best friend. “Dude, you need to get your shit straight. We all know when homecoming is and people have already started doing their askings today.”

“Wait, so when is Brad trying to ask her? We can’t let that happen. I mean he doesn’t even deserve her, he’s such a dick. Remember what I told you about with what happened on our trip?”

Peter couldn’t believe that Brad was going to ask you. You’ve never talked about Brad when you guys were together, and you knew that he didn’t like him. Ned shook his shoulders and Peter snapped out of his daze.

“Calm down, we’ll call the crew together and think of a plan alright? I’ll text Betty to see what the other council members are doing and we could meet up after school tomorrow to figure something out.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded. “Yeah…yeah okay. That sounds like a good thing to do.”

Peter noticed that you ended the call you were on and slapped Ned to shut up about homecoming just in case you overheard their conversation.

You walked up to them and asked, “So, did we figure out who Peter’s asking?”

Ned shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not really, seems like you two haven’t really thought about this, huh?

You laughed and said, “Not really. I mean yeah I want the dance to be successful but with how things go, I’ll probably just end up stag.”

“No, you’re Y/N Stark which means you should have a bomb ass date and stunt on the rest of the student body.”

“Ned don’t worry. I do have someone in mind but I’m waiting to see if he actually does something.”

The boys looked at each other with what you said, and Peter sent him a panicked look. You raised an eyebrow at the quick-change behavior of your friends in front of you as they mentally communicated with each other. You rolled your eyes and began to tug Peter away from him.

“Alright, that’s nothing you boys need to freak out over. C’mon Parker, we gotta get moving or else Cap is gonna bust our asses if we’re not at training on time. Bye Ned!”

Peter was caught off-guard and gave Ned a pleading look to investigate the mystery guy you were waiting for. He turned back towards you and changed his position to match your pace as you quickly entered the subway. The two of you tapped your cards through the entryway and made your way into one of the carts. Sitting down, you sighed in relief and closed your eyes. You could feel Peter looking at you as he took the empty seat next to you and you laughed to yourself.

“I’m not going to tell you, Peter.”

“Why not? That’s not fair, I tell you everything.” He pouted.

Opening one of your eyes, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Don’t worry about it, Parker. It’s my little secret that you’ll eventually find out.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked as he watched you plugin your earphones into your phone.

You continued to smile to yourself as you leaned your head against his shoulder and lifted the other bud for him to take. He took up your offer and you pressed shuffle.

“I’m still waiting for an answer, missy.”

You shook your head and got comfortable in your seat. It was going to be a while before your stop nearest to the compound was going to happen and all you wanted was to have a small power nap due to the lack of sleep you’ve been getting.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” You murmured as you felt your tiredness consume you.

It was times like these where you were glad Peter was more on the oblivious side. All of your actions and care towards him made it obvious. Everyone on the council knew and even MJ had caught on quite quickly. You liked Peter, a lot. You haven’t acted on it because he’s been a bit harder to read lately and with the dance coming along, you hoped that he’d catch on with the subtle hints you’ve been leaving him ever since the school year started.

Taglist:(lmk if you want to be tagged! Tagged those who asked and who I think might enjoy this fic || Crossed out means I wasn’t able to tag you!) @ithinkimightlikehim @ homecomlng @meganlikesfandoms​ @tomfiction4​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @procrastinatingismybiggestflaw​ @mrhollandisart​ @yeahimcrying​ @littlebookbengal​ @caretheunicorn​ @mara-twins​ @jackiehollanderr​ @imsocial-not​ @ibookishqueen​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @ 3tothe1 @babebenhardy​ @kewl-r​ @llamazarecoolaf​

[ma-gic-gay]

It took a few too many hours to take care of the Florence situation, but he was confident that she would be happier in her room at the long term care facility than she would be at a safehouse.

He was much less confident with what would happen next. On the one hand, he knew that Cyrus knew that Carly had taken his mother - as much as he loves her, she needs to start thinking her plans through before she ends up dead - and that she was the reason he was alive. On the other, Florence had remained unharmed and been returned within ten hours. That doesn't erase what had happened; kidnappings are always a terrible, traumatic thing and not in his worst moment had he hoped to kidnap someone or, worse, have someone get kidnapped, but it did make it a bit easier for him to sleep at night.

In short, she was pretty much the biggest target at the moment. An even bigger one than him, which seemed impossible maybe fifteen hours ago.

Yet another reason having her in Port Charles was something he'd been concerned to do. Even though she swore she'd stay at home, she'd promised the same thing before his meeting with Cyrus earlier and that was a promise she didn't end up keeping.

Maybe this time, though, since Josslyn was home with her, she'd stay home.

That would explain the fifty seven voicemails he has from her and at least one hundred texts. It was honestly less than he had been expecting, mainly because she had been incredibly worried he'd get killed, moreso than normal.

Probably because not even an hour before he left, Cyrus had tried to kill him. It definitely didn't have anything to do with last night.

Right?

He shakes his head to get that out of his head; it's been a long night and probably why he's thinking about it. Willing himself to think of anything else, his mind wanders as he drives, thinking of the possible kidnapping targets.

Maybe thinking about last night will be a better alternative.

Glancing at the clock, he realizes that it's almost time for a call from a hopefully still at home Carly.

"Like clockwork," he chuckles, answering the phone. "Everything okay on the home front?"

A laugh he instantly notices as Cyrus's leaves his phone speaker. Quickly checking the caller ID, it's Carly. "Well, Mr. Morgan, I'm not doing well right now, considering your organization took my mother. Though I suppose your question wasn't directed towards me."

No shit, he thinks, containing his anger and quickly switching to a business tone, "I already told you, I don't have your mother. What the hell are you doing with Carly?"

Chuckling evilly again, Cyrus says, "I'm just spending some time with Mrs. Corinthos, Mr. Morgan. Calm down."

He's dead. The second that Jason gets back in town and sees his stupid, ponytail clad body, he will die. And if he puts a hand on her-

Focusing on the call instead of the growing anger in his blood, he asks, "Where is she and what have you done with her?"

"She's being taken care of very well, don't worry. In fact, I think that she'd agree I'm being quite a polite host, especially given the fact she had my mother kidnapped."

Maybe he should torture him before he kills him, that sounds appealing. Very appealing.

"I actually just looked into it and your mother is at her care facility. So tell me where Carly is, now," the former assassin demands.

Killing him looks more and more appealing by the second and making it as painful as possible does too. He deserves it for doing anything to Carly. Where exactly will kill him the fastest and make it painful? Maybe being shot in several places at the same time would help.

Clearly enjoying this Cyrus continues, "Is she? Well, I received a call earlier that she had been checked out of there."

"They must've been wrong."

"Well, still, I think she's getting even more delightful as time goes on. In fact, I'm finding her to be quite beautiful. What do you think, Mr. Morgan? Should I seduce and make love to her?"

Anger is the only emotion he feels right now, combined with disgust at the thought of that. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"And why is that?"

To lie or tell the truth, that is the question. The answer is lie. "She's a terrible lover. Absolutely terrible. Believe me, I'd know. We were involved at a certain time and I'm not sure anyone should have to go through that."

"You two have been quite close in the year since her husband passed. Are you sure you don't just want her for yourself?"

This sleazebag is going to be in hell when Jason finds him, he swears on his life. "Yes, I'm sure. Now, where is she?"

Chuckling again, he says, "Mr. Morgan, I'm not stupid. You think that since you've returned my mother, I'll return your friend in exchange for her. But, you see, Mrs. Corinthos isn't just someone you can take as you please. I'm truly seeing her beauty in this light and I find her to be quite intriguing. Perhaps I'll go against your advice-"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Now, last time I'm asking, where is Carly?"

"Why don't I let her tell you yourself?" Cyrus offers before handing the phone over to who he can imagine is the blonde. A scream is emitted in the background, probably from a gag or something.

The second he lays his eyes on him, that man is dead.

"Jason?" A scared Carly asks. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm right here Carly. Can you tell me where you are right now?"

"You remember that little room above Jake's, where we got our start? I miss that room sometimes. Especially now that the Floating Rib isn't even really a working building."

"So do I. It was plain and undecorated. Now, where are you?"

"I love you and my kids, you know that, right?"

"Yes, yes I do. You know I love you. Are you okay?"

"No one else will probably ever be in that room again. Kinda sad, don't you think? I kinda like that we'll be part of the last people to be there, but I think it's a damn shame that room won't get better use out of it." Carly continues, clearly not getting his point.

Wait. The room above Jake's. That's where she's being held! She's been giving hints. God, sometimes he thinks she's do dumb but others she's practically a genius.

"Has he laid a hand on you?"

"Yeah," she says and his blood boils. This bastard is going to die, just for thinking about doing this.

"I'm going to go down memory lane," Jason says, changing the topic but hoping she'll read his signal. "Drive around some spots I used to go. I'll be home to check on the kids in twenty minutes."

"Have fun with that journey, Mr. Morgan," Cyrus says, having taken the phone from a surprisingly silent Carly. "In the meantime, I'm going to tell you what to do to get her back. You will meet me at Pier 57 at noon tomorrow. Until then, I think that the two of us are going to be spending some quality time together."

"You so much as lay a hand on her-"

"I'm going to advise you to stop speaking if you ever want to see her alive again," Cyrus chuckles. "Goodbye, Mr. Morgan."

Just like that, the phone is hung up and the call ended. "Fuck!" Jason screams, driving faster.

He's got to get to her and fast. She doesn't have much time before Cyrus rapes her and he'll be damned if he lets her go through that. Not if he can stop it, and he knows he can.

After all, if there's one thing his men have told him that he remembers, it's that Cyrus suffers from erectile dysfunction. If he had to pick one dude who would never be able to get it up in their life, without a doubt, he'd pick that sleazebag in a heartbeat. Especially now, given the situation his best friend is in.

He can make it there in ten minutes if he breaks a few traffic rules.

Fuck traffic laws; he's got to go save her, he thinks as he speeds up, taking every turn too fast and going straight through at all the stop signs and red lights.

It's a minor miracle he doesn't get a ticket as he pulls into the parking lot of the Floating Rib, which has been abandoned ever since the explosion that sent Lulu into a coma and killed Dev and Dustin.

Deadly explosions don't exactly appeal to buyers.

Gun drawn and loaded, he finally realizes that there is no plan here. Call the cops? No, then Cyrus gets to walk away alive and this son of a bitch needs to die.

Kill him and then call the cops? Not a bad idea, especially with Carly as a witness. She's not a perjurer, no one would ever accuse her of that. Especially when she's newly traumatized from a kidnapping. Besides, it's self defense. But bullets can ricochet and she could be killed or comatose. Whatever happens, it could be really bad.

Fuck.

Going in without a plan is the best option and that scares him more than anything he's ever faced.

Bounding silently up the stairs, he kicks in the door and sees an almost nude, terrified Carly and the sight of an aroused Cyrus. Fuck. Guess those erectile dysfunction pills work for him.

A sparkle appears in his eyes when Cyrus realizes he's there. "Mr. Morgan, how kind of you to join us. Though, I don't believe you were expecting this."

Bastard. He deserves to be killed, the most painful death one can ever suffer. Acting as though he's a fucking host of a party, not a kidnapper who's about to rape his best friend. How many other women has he done this to?

The thought of it makes his blood boil. "I'm only gonna say this once, get away from her and you might live."

"Was that a threat?"

"It was a promise."

"Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Corinthos and I are having a moment here and you're being rather rude, intruding upon it."

Carly's been suspiciously quiet this whole time. She's planning an escape, he can feel it. No use trying to explain how he can feel it, but he can.

That's new.

Refocusing his attention to the ponytail clad piece of shit in front of her, he says, "You two aren't, because she's most certainly not into this. I know what she looks like when she is and let me tell you, that's not what she looks like right now."

"Ah yes, your past. Well, her face may have changed."

"From last night?"

With the mobster stunned enough to do a minor double take, Carly kicks him right in the balls. That's gotta hurt, especially considering that he's got his dick out and everything.

Jason snaps into action, undoing the handcuffs she's in and removing the duct tape, wincing when she screams in pain. That hurts his heart.

"I was right with my suspicions, wasn't I? Mr. Morgan, what are your feelings towards Mrs. Corinthos?"

"None of your fucking business," he answers, kicking Cyrus in the balls himself as he calls the cops. That felt good. Not as good as killing him would, but it does give a rush of dopamine. "I'm above the Floating Rib, in the little apartment with a kidnapped Carly Corinthos and her kidnapper and attempted rapist Cyrus Renault."

"An officer is being dispatched there and will arrive in five minutes, sir. What is your name?"

"Jason Morgan."

"Well, Mr. Morgan, can you stay at the scene with Mrs. Corinthos?"

"Trust me, I'm not leaving until this son of a bitch is behind bars on death row," he growls at the operator. For someone who's normally so good at controlling his emotions, right now it's all he can do to not pull the trigger and take him out himself. His walls have fallen as his best friend softly cries next to him, minorly breaking his heart.

"I wouldn't count on that, Mr. Morgan," Cyrus snickers, "after all, I could just kill you two."

"The dispatch is going to be there in under one minute now, sir."

"Cyrus, if you so much as grab that gun and point it at me, I can kill you out of self defense. So I guess if you've got a death wish you could grab your weapon," Jason counters him.

"PCPD! Put down all weapons!" Chase shouts. Of course he's the lead detective.

"Up here!" Jason shouts and he finds the staircase before walking into the room.

"Mr. Renault, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?" Chase asks, cuffing him.

"Damn you, Morgan," Cyrus says before another cop escorts him out and into a cruiser. Thank god, he was afraid if he saw his stupid, smirking face one more time, it would be the last thing that Cyrus ever did.

"Mrs. Corinthos, can we bring you and Mr. Morgan down to the station and have you two recount what happened tonight with Cyrus?"

Words don't leave her mouth, a sob does. Jason pulls her gently out of the chair and into a tight embrace, for his benefit as much as hers. "She's in no shape to be giving you the details."

"Mr. Morgan, it's better if she tells us what happened sooner rather than later."

"I'll do it," she agrees, though she's still visibly shaking in his arms. "If Jason's there, I'll do it."

Pressing a kiss to the side of her head, he agrees, "I'll be there."

Attempting to inform then they can't, Chase says, "You can't actually be in the interrogation room together; it's a very rare occurrence and not one I'm sure I can get permission from the commissioner to have right now."

Glaring daggers in his direction, Jason informs him, "You heard Carly's terms. If you want her to tell you what happened, I'm going to be there."

Finally giving in, Chase agrees to let them go in his car before leaving to call Jordan.

"Do you think you can stand?"

"No."

"We're getting you to the hospital then," Jason declares. "Detective!"

"Yes, Mr. Morgan?"

"I'm taking her to the hospital to get checked out before the police station."

"Could we question you two at the hospital? It's really important we get your testimony before Cyrus's. He's smart enough to ask for a lawyer and we'll do our best to have one take their time, but it's possible if she goes to the hospital she could end up giving it second."

"Do you feel up to getting questioned at the hospital?" Jason asks the sobbing woman, feeling a combination of emotions he can't push away.

"I guess," she agrees uncertainly. "You'll still be there, right?"

"Of course. I'm not leaving your side unless you tell me to," he reminds her. "Ambulance or my car?"

"Oh god, not an ambulance. I don't need all that fanfare," she groans.

"Okay. Detective, will you meet us at the hospital?" Jason asks to his own chagrin. He can't believe this dude has the audacity to ask a woman recently traumatized by an attempted rape and kidnapping to tell him what happened in detail.

Chase nods and leaves the two alone again, offering a tissue to the sobbing blonde in Jason's arms.

Scoffing, Carly takes the tissue and resumes her sobbing. "I was so, so scared you wouldn't get here in time and he'd kill me. I know, I broke the only rule, but in my defense, I had to work and I got taken there."

"I'm sorry I didn't get here quicker," he says, "and that you feel like you're to blame for this. You're not. Cyrus, that sick son of a bitch, is the only one to blame."

"You told me to not go out!"

"I didn't think he'd move in so fast... If I had, I never would've left the house."

"Hey, you are not to blame for this."

"Neither are you."

"Yes, yes I am. He-he kissed me, Jason. He started making out with me, and he hit me when I didn't kiss him back and when I said no. That's when I got the duct tape to my mouth."

To be continued when I can write this and not feel like crying (aka after I watch the Sharkboy and Lavagirl movies because they're BOTH on Netflix now and that's pretty fucking cool.)

@ryleighjosephine

[marvels-writings]

Phoenix and the Stars (2)

| Part 1 |

Carol Danvers Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: woop had a mental breakdown on saturday, so that’s fun, i talked to a close friend after and wrote this, so hey not that bad. (also reader has the same background as the Maria hill one shot The One Where You Accidentally Threw a Punching Bag at Her (or sm similarly named) but check it out for the backstory)

A loud knocking at your door woke you up, you groggily checked the alarm clock, it was 4:27, what the hell. You got up and walked to the door, hand rubbing your head slightly.

“What the hell are you doing?” Carol asked, she wore a thick jacket on top of a light pink t shirt and light blue jeans with white vans. And she had a duffel bag in her hand.

“I was sleeping, now I’m asking you why I’m not sleeping anymore.” You retorted groggily, glaring at Carol who raised an eyebrow.

“We have a mission to go to in 2 minutes.” Carol stated.

“SHIT!” You yelled, retracting your hand from your head and sprinting across your room, gathering everything you could need.

Underwear, bras, t shirts, jeans, pajamas, hoodies, your thickest jacket, a fancy outfit and a dance outfit just in case. You tripped over about five pairs of shoes in order to find the right pair. Carol started laughing at you sprinting across the bed to get your things.

“Can you stop laughing and turn around so I can change?” You said aggressively, taking off your sweatshirt before she could answer. You saw her face turn a bright red before you threw your sweatshirt into the Adidas duffel bag you were preparing. You hurriedly changed into a light blue t shirt, navy blue jeans, dark blue hoodie and your signature white adidas. Grabbing a jacket while putting your shoes wasn’t the best idea, you crashed face first into your closet.

“Is Maria really that bad?” Carol joked, she had seen you prepare enough outfits for an entire week in less than a minute and you fell face first into a wooden closet not to be late.

“Oh you have no idea.” You shouted, putting on your shoes and zipping up the duffel bag. You glanced at your alarm clock to see it was 4:30 already. “Let’s go.” You said, grabbing your jacket and shouldering past Carol.

Of course, you tripped on your shoelaces instantly. A small squeal came out at the sudden loss of balance, but something stopped you before you could touch the ground. You opened your eyes as you were pulled back up by your waist.

“You’re such an idiot.” Carol said, rolling her eyes and pulling you up by your shirt, resting her arm on your waist after. “You okay?” She asked, closer to you than before.

“Uh, I’m fine, I think.” You said, your gaze accidentally slipping to her lips before you rushed back into your room to get your phone and bluetooth speaker and headphones.

“I said 4:30 sharp.” Maria said, walking through the doors with her arms crossed.

“I know, I forgot, I’m sorry.” You apologized hurriedly, shoving your phone in your back pocket and your speaker in your duffel bag.

“Let’s just go.” Maria said, walking away. You and Carol jogged a little to catch up with her. “Try to be punctual next time.”

“Well she did get 20 outfits together in a minute, cut her a bit of slack.” Carol commented, then smirked when she saw a surprised expression at her defending you. “She only forgot about the mission.”

“And here I thought you were defending me!” You said, slapping her arm slightly, causing Carol to laugh and Maria to roll her eyes.

“Would I ever?” Carol joked, you joined Maria in rolling her eyes this time.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The position for the stakeout wasn’t bad, it was terrible. The meeting for the arms dealing was across a frozen lake from a small wooden cabin, the stakeout. The cabin was barely insulated, with a broken heating system but it had multiple fireplaces.

“At least there’s two rooms.” You offered, trying to be more optimistic about it.

“Optimistic phoenix at it again.” Carol joked, setting her duffel bag in the small living room.

The ground floor was small, if anything. There was a small wooden kitchen with maybe 10 small cabinets and a fridge. The counter had 3 barstools set across from it. Right next to it, there was the living room. It had a loveseat, two single couches across a fireplace. There was a TV on the wall next to the fireplace. The door was across from the fireplace.

After going up the creaky wooden steps, you found a small hallway with two rooms directly across from each other, the only bathroom just ahead of the two doors. And no attic or basement.

“This was the best Maria could do?” Carol asked, letting out a frustrated groan and flopping down on the loveseat.

“It was the closest she could get us.” You shouted from upstairs after finding a vinyl player in one room and recordings in the other.

“Hey look what I found.” You offered, heading downstairs with the objects in your hands, the stairs creaking.

“A vinyl player?” She asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yeah, and some newer recordings.” You stated, setting up the player on the counter and plugging it into the plug next to the barstools.

“So much fun.” Carol remarked, walking over behind you to find a few vinyls from the mid 2010’s. She picked up the 25 Adele album.

“Didn’t know you were a person for Adele.” You remarked, taking the record and putting it in. Water Under The Bridge started playing the instant you plugged it in, you couldn’t help but grin.

“I haven’t really heard much of Adele to be honest,” Carol said, her eyes widening slightly at the music. “But this sounds really good!”

“Star Girl really needs to keep up with pop culture.” You remarked, digging through the box for the first album. She slapped you on the arm jokingly and sat down in front of the fireplace, shivering slightly through her hoodie. After sorting through the records, you learnt there were only two albums from 2015, Oh Wonder and 25 by Adele. There were tons of other records from the early 2010’s and a few One Direction albums. You even found Halsey’s first album there.

You switched off the music and sat across from Carol on one of the single seaters. You noticed her shivering slightly and shot a small fireball towards the already prepared logs in the fireplace. Carol gave you a small nod and continued to stare at the fire, deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, leaning forwards on your elbows to get closer to the fire and to look at Carol.

“Nothing, I just,” She paused slightly and sighed. “I missed so much in the five years I was gone.”

“You only missed a ton of pop culture and memes, you’re fine.” You joked, leaning back in your chair as Carol glared at you. “No seriously, you only missed 5 years, Captain America missed a hundred, you’re honestly fine.”

Carol nodded  her head, considering what you said. She knew you were right, five years wasn’t as bad as a hundred, but still.

“Thanks.” She said after a pause.

“Sure, friends?” You asked, outreaching a hand for her to shake. She looked at you skeptically before shaking your hand.

“Friends.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“Carol we’ve been cooped up here for 3 days.” You whined, sitting next to her on the loveseat as she read one of the books she brought.

The target was supposed to arrive for the deal two days ago, and there was little to no entertainment here. You and Carol had started talking, mainly about the things in the house and a little bit about your past. You had found out she was human but captured by Kree for 5 years, and now she worked with the Avengers, neat.

“I’m aware of that.” She retorted, glancing up at you before returning to her book. You rolled your eyes and snatched her book, raising your eyebrows at her annoyance.

Both of you knew the only reason this mission was lasting so long was because of the delay, but you were bored. Currently, you were wearing a thin short sleeved t shirt and sweatpants, Carol wore a thick strapped tank top and leggings.

“I’m bored.” You stated, she raised an eyebrow in turn.

“Do you want to dance?” She joked, meaning to say if you wanted her to dance. But actually, dancing together didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

“You mean together?” You asked, she made a confused face but before she could react, you glanced at the records, shrugged and answered your own question. “Sure.”

You got up and sorted through the records, deciding the Oh Wonder records would probably be the best. ‘Technicolour beat’ started playing softly through the house as you plugged the vinyl player in. Carol was still sitting in the same place.

“Hey you said you wanted to dance.” You commented, leaning back against the window as the song continued to play.

‘Let loose your glow

Come settle down, settle down’

“Fine.” Carol grumbled and walked over to you, still a little confused on how to dance since you’d picked a slow song.

“Do you want to do a slow dance or…?” You asked curiously, watching her fidget with her hands.

“Not sure, what songs are on the recording?” She asked, you knelt down next to the record to see. “Bad idea.” She commented, seeing you were about to lift up the needle.

“Fine, though last time I listened to this album they only had the slow songs.” You commented, getting back up before realized Carol didn’t really know how to dance. “You don’t really know how to dance, do you?” You asked curiously, tilting your head to the side.

“There’s no need to rub it in.” Carol defended, crossing her arms. You laughed slightly at her defensive behaviour.

“I’m not, I’m offering to teach you.” You chuckled slightly at her shocked expression as you offered her your hand.

Carol glanced from your hand to your face, her arms still crossed for a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged slightly and were about to take back your offer when she took your hand, your face lighting up with a smile.

“So, it’s actually really simple, don’t worry.” You joked, taking her other hand as well. “We can do waltz or the usual casual style.” You said, holding her hands in yours like it was a normal thing, Carol’s face starting to light up a bright pink.

“A mix?” She asked, you laughed slightly and nodded, missing her smile when you laughed.

“Sure, so you put your hand in mine, like this.” You instructed holding up your joined hands at eye level. “Then, since this is usually a male and a female, I’ll be the male to show-”

“Nah, let’s do it the other way around.” Carol joked, grinning at you. You giggled slightly, mirroring her grin before rethinking your instructions.

“Fine, so I put my hand on your shoulder,” You said, hesitantly resting your hand on her shoulder, directly on her skin. She blushed slightly, you could feel her tense up slightly, drawing your hand away. “Is this okay?” You asked, looking up at her slightly, a bit scared you had over stepped.

“No, it’s fine.” Carol said, relaxing slightly when you put your hand back on her shoulder.

‘Warm, unalone

Come settle down, settle down’

“Ok, well you put your hand around my waist.” You instructed, when Carol raised an eyebrow you rolled your eyes and took your hand away from her shoulder to instruct her hand, you put it right above your hip. “Like so.”

Carol blushed slightly, clenching her jaw at the closeness. Even though she wouldn’t admit it, it had been forever since she had been close with someone, it had been forever since she had danced, or waltzed as you liked to call it, and it felt… nice.

“And now?” Carol asked curiously, her voice lower than it was before. Both of you were warm, the sunlight glinting softly in your eyes and hair.

“And now we just sway.” You whispered, looking up into her eyes, feeling more relaxed than you have anytime before this mission. The two of you gently rocked from side to side, sharing body heat while everything else was cold around you.

‘And I feel life for the very first time

Love in my arms, and the sun in my eyes’

Both of you couldn’t help but blush at the lyric. You rested your head on her shoulder, shuffling slightly closer to her while swaying. You felt her tense up again, you were about to pull away before she interrupted you.

“It’s okay, you’re not making me uncomfortable.” She comforted, almost like she was reading your mind. You smiled slightly and rested your head back onto her shoulder, letting her warmth envelop you as the two of you swayed gently in the sunset. You hadn’t felt this relaxed or well, intimate in a long time. SHIELD had kind of taken away your chance at a normal relationship. But now, well you never thought you’d have this chance with the great Captain marvel, taking in the fact the two of you had only become friends a few days ago. Honestly, you wish you could read minds.

If you could, you would’ve found Carol felt a similar way. She wanted to be in a relationship, badly, but she was terrified of the consequences. She was away most of the time, her partner would suffer and so would she. To be honest, she was terrified of what loving someone could mean, but she never thought it would be as easy as this.

‘In a technicolour beat, you and me (found another feeling)

Caught up in a dream, in a technicolour beat’

The relationship had started off as enemies, gone to friends. And now, it was about to go a completely different direction, but you were ready to go through it with Carol, you didn’t know yet she felt the same way.

Tag list: @capcarolsdanver​���, @versdan​​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​​, @lovebotlarson​​, @dhengkt​​, @5aftermidnight​​, let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: This was extra long to pay up for the inactivity. I’m just getting back results for exams and they are a bit disappointing. Especially English, which I expected a bit better in. This is actually one of my new fav writing pieces, so reblogs would be AMAZING, thanks. But anyway, here’s the next part of Phoenix and the Stars, feedback is amazing, thank you!

| Part 3 |

[starry-eyed-svt]

A-List Celebrity ~ Jinyoung

Genre: Angst, Fluff, implied smut

Request: A celeb who wants to be a popular sex symbol

Words: 1,107

Warnings: Talking about popular sex symbols + the desire to be one. Mentions of a teacher/student fling(student was 18)

                                                   __

You had been acting since you were little. Whether it was school plays or projects from film class, you always wanted to be in the spotlight.

It started when you were young. You loved watching Maid in Manhattan. Jennifer Lopez was your inspiration. You wanted to be like her.

And thus ensued your pursue of the art of acting.

You were 22 when you finally landed your dream job. You were the main female lead in a movie, your co-star Park Jinyoung. You were thrilled, you had been auditioning for movies for quite some time. You were landing mainly background roles or staring in B-list movies. This was your big break.

You were also thrilled to be working with Jinyoung, you had been a fan of his for a while.

You found yourself being flirty with him in between takes, you were quite forward with him. He was very respectful, but did not indulge in your flirting or reciprocate it. You were a little incessant nonetheless.

You were looking over the script when you heard the staff in another room talking.

“Who does she think she is?”

“I don’t know but I really wish it had worked out with Bae Suzy’s schedule so we didn’t have to deal with her unprofessionalism.”

“She obviously makes Jinyoung uncomfortable. I feel bad for him.”

They went on. Tears filled your eyes. You weren’t even their first choice, as always.  You turned to go to your trailer but hit a solid human. You looked up to see Jinyoung making you even more embarrassed. You tried to go around him but he stepped in your way.

“Let’s talk.” He said.

Jinyoung grabbed your hand and took you to his trailer. You clenched your jaw and sat on the couch he offered. He sat down facing you in a chair.

You remained silent staring at the ground.

“Y/N, you obviously aren’t okay. You are free to speak as you wish.” Jinyoung said.

You sighed before beginning to speak.

“I’ve never been anyone’s first choice, I am sure they had many others than just Bae Suzy that they wanted to cast. Don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful they cast me even if I wasn’t their first choice… But how do you get to be someone's first choice?”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung asked.

“I don’t know. This isn’t the first time. When I was in high school I was in a toxic friend group and the formal was coming up, all my friends were getting asked to go. I wasn’t asked until the Monday before, the guy only asked me to the dance because I was the last one left. At the dance he spent the whole time either group dancing or dancing with other girls. Literally the only person who showed any interest was my math teacher, my senior year.” You looked up, Jinyoung raised his eyebrow.

“I was 18. He was a new teacher just out of college. It was legal. But it was still degrading. I was desperate. I just wanted some attention. Ever since I was little I wanted to be like Jennifer Lopez. I wanted to fit in, be wanted.” You said.

“Well you aren’t Jennifer Lopez so stop trying to be her.” Jinyoung said a bit harshly, “You are Y/N Y/L/N. You don’t need to be her. You just need to be you.” He finished.

You hung your head ashamed.

“I didn’t reciprocate your advances because that wasn’t you.” Jinyoung said.

“You don’t even know me.” You replied.

“You are like one of my friends, in front of people you put this face up, act outrageous so people will hate you for what you aren’t. That way people can’t judge you on how you really are. Y/N, I know I am being a bit harsh, but you need to hear it. I want to get to know you better, I want to be your friend. I think you are beautiful.” Jinyoung said.

His words hurt, but that is because truth hurts. He was completely right. Nobody had seemed to like you for you, so over time you created this more outgoing, annoying persona.

“No, you’re right. You are completely right…” You said.

“You can disregard this advice, but here are some things that have helped me and other actors. Just be yourself, like you said I don’t know you too well but I am sure you are a lovely person. The fans and producers love people who are authentic. I do too.” He winked. You giggled a little.

“You are going to be successful, you just need to be you.” He smiled.

“I appreciate this, Jinyoung. Sincerely.” You said and smiled back. You looked at your watch. “I need to go get my makeup done again, I’ll see you out there.” You said, you got up and walked to the door of his trailer, before opening the door Jinyoung stood up.

“Wait.” He said, you turned toward him. “As a way of getting to know you, do you want to go out to dinner?” He asked.

“I would love to.” You smiled.

You went and got your costume on as well as your makeup. You took Jinyoung’s advice and in between takes you were studying the script paying nobody else any attention other than the director. It paid off, the scenes that were shot were some of your favorites from the whole project so far.  

After set shut down for the day, you got ready in your regular clothes.

Jinyoung met you outside your trailer and the two of you went to a nearby restaurant.

The two of you talked freely and got to know one another better.

Afterward you found yourself going home with Jinyoung where the two of you proceeded to have a steamy makeout that led to other things….

You awoke in the morning in Jinyoung’s bed. Jinyoung stirred awake and asked what time it was. You looked at the clock on the wall.

“7:30a.m. I should probably go catch a cab and head to work so my manager doesn’t worry and we don’t start a scandal showing up together.” You laughed. Jinyoung laughed and agreed.

You got up and got ready, before you left Jinyoung gave you a kiss.

“See this, I liked it. You are awesome, so be you boo.” He winked.

You  smiled and left. That heart to heart changed your life and over time you became a respected and popular Actress. Not only that, you gained your long term boyfriend, Park Jinyoung. The two of you were a power couple and unstoppable.

Gif Credit to owners!

[symphonic--chaos]

Fic inspired by the Panic! at the Disco song ‘When the Day met the Night’

Also cross-posted here on AO3!

When the sun found the moon

She was drinking tea in a garden

Under the green umbrella trees

In the middle of summer

“May I sit here?“ 

The voice attached to the words was smooth and soft, a gentle breeze in the dead of a starry night. Alec saw the rings adorning tan fingers, wrapped around the saucer balancing a steaming cup of coffee filled to the brim, first. A black vest secured over a wine red shirt, both fitted very well, and lingering with him was the mixed scent of sandalwood with eucalyptus and …coconut? Alec felt like he was in a homey cottage at a beach, a place he rarely went. In fact, the last time he may have gone was when he was a child. He suddenly felt nostalgic. Continuing up and up the long figure, who must have been almost as tall as himself were he standing, he was surprised to see a warm smile greeting him, curious eyes lined in black and accented with gold and red eyeshadow.

"Uh, sure. Yeah, help yourself." 

The man settled down across from him at the table, setting the drink down with with a book, brown and almost brittle looking book beside it. Maybe Alec’s eyes lingered too long on it out of his sheer curiousity, as the slim fingers turned it carefully in his direction in an offering.

"Would you like to see it? It’s Les Miserables, one of the originals.”

Alec looked up from the book to meet the strangers eyes, which were a striking mix of a brownish gold, which seemed to catch the sun and reflect it back on him. They seemed tired, but kind. There was a mischievous and playful glint hidden within them, one that made Alec wonder if this was some kind of setup by his sister or best friend, Jace, but yet… This didn’t seem like their kind of prank. Plus, this stranger seemed so warm all over, like he was made of the gold he wore in both makeup and jewelry - perhaps too warm and seemingly kind to do a prank like that. 

A common misconception about snakes was that they could hypnotize their prey, much like a charmer could do to a snake. Most prey, however, either freeze out of fear or pure curiousity of the way the snake weaves to gauge its distance to the prey. In the same way, Alec felt frozen once their eyes met, and it was only when the bright flash of teeth were exposed in an amused smile that had to read his gaze away. Clearing his throat and taking a sip of his tea, the feeling he'd had was something that alarmed him, not in a sense of danger as he was used to, but out of the sudden attraction he held for someone he didn’t even know. 

“Aren’t these hard to come across?” Alec asked finally as he picked up the book, gingerly looking over the spine and page edges, then opened it to look over the first few pages. 

“I own an antique shop. Nothing is hard to come across when you have the right connections.”

Alec placed the book back down as carefully as he’d handled it, a movement to their left catching his attention momentarily enough for him to realize that there was plenty of open seats around them that could have been chosen, but yet …

When the moon found the sun

He looked like he was barely hanging on

But her eyes saved his life

In the middle of summer (summer)

Magnus had leaned his elbow lightly on the edge of the table to watch Alec look over the book, his defined jaw resting in his palm as he watched the black-haired beauty come to the realization that he had sat there with him on purpose. Was the offer of the book an excuse to study the strong features of the other man’s face? Absolutely. A true weakness of his was black hair and blue eyes, and while this particular fellow had green eyes, they were just as striking. Magnus shifted to lift his coffee cup, enjoy the scent of the chocolate raspberry (arabica, not robusta) wafting from it before he took a slow sip from it. So far so good, the handsome one hadn’t rejected his friendly advances yet, so maybe he could at least push for a name. 

“I’m Magnus,” he said as he placed the cup down, extending a hand in greeting. He was pleasantly surprised when Alec took it and shook it, reveling in the bright smile that his new companion gave him.

“Alexander. Er, Alec. So, uh, you choose to sit with people over sitting alone often?”

“No, I prefer to sit alone, especially when the leaves make such a beautiful noise when the wind blows. But you’ve caught my eye here a couple times before, and today I was feeling particularly courageous and decided to come say hi.”

Alec looked surprised by that, and Magnus wondered if perhaps that had been too forward, but the goofy, almost shy smile that crossed his face said otherwise and Magnus couldn’t help but smile himself. While most would flirt back, this ‘Alec’ seemed to take it in appreciation, pride, which told Magnus that either the man was never flirted with, or he was the first person to do so -slowly- with him. That flirting would be held back just enough to be a hint, Magnus decided then, especially when he noticed the drawing on the notebook in front of Alec, the most detailed yet delicate drawing of a sleeping child at the table nearby. Above it, a small drawing of the fountain to their left, and on the bottom right corner, another detailed drawing of a flower from one of the bushes along the main street outside the cafe. The man was talented and he found himself wanting to learn more about him.

“These are beautiful, Alexander.”

“It’s…Thank you, I’m an artist.”

So he said, “Would it be all right

If we just sat and talked for a little while

If in exchange for your time

I give you this smile?”

Magnus had soon found that not only was he an artist of multiple art world medias, but that he also took up a tattoo gun as a means to show his creativity and talent. Magnus’s fingers played over the edge of the business card he’d been given by Alec, admiring the black and white abstract artwork that decorated the background and the bright but simple lettering giving out the artists information.

Alec Lightwood

Tattoo Artist

xxx-xxx-xxxx

The back seemed simple in comparison to the art on the front, a white marble design with only the name of the parlor in blue scrolling font across the middle:

The Shadow Institute

The telltale lurch of the metro signalled that they were close to his home, his thumb brushing over the front of the card before it was slipped into the pocket of his vest. People stepped up beside him to wait at the doors he stood in front of, the train coming to a stop as the announcer came cross the speakers.

Greenpoint Ave, doors open on the right.

So she said, “That’s OK

As long as you can make a promise

Not to break my little heart

Or leave me all alone in the summer.”

Ding ding

“Alexander! What a pleasant surprise!”

Alec balanced the drink tray carefully in one hand as his other gently shut the old wood door behind him, the smell of incense and the smallest hint of polish breathed in as he collected himself to make a first move. Eventually. Alec turned to Magnus, seated on a high stool with a small desk clock rested on the counter in front of him, realizing the polish smell came from the small white rag in his hand.

“I brought you coffee, since you brought me the food and coffee at the shop the other day." 

The tray was placed on the counter and Magnus was quick to notice the intricate flower and skull designs drawn on his own, a sly smile crossing his face. Alec had seen the drawings he lingered on when looking through his portfolio, and even remembered his passing comment about enjoyment from beautiful things mixed with the macabre.

"I appreciate it, I was thinking about getting some in an hour, but you’ve saved me the trip. I hope you’ll be staying for a bit? Surely you didn’t come all the way out here only to bring me coffee." 

Alec nodded in response, offering Magnus a smile as he took his own drink from the tray to sip from it. He’d yet to come to the shop, so he found himself unable to stop looking around at the various items on the wall, mainly artwork and sculptures, everything looking clean and well maintained. 

"So do you work here alone? This is a lot of things to keep clean and tidy all the time, isn’t it?”

Alec’s steps took him around the store, opening various small boxes and looking at different appliances like sewing machines, record players, radios, everything such a different look and design than their current day counterparts. Magnus seemed to fit this category too, he looked young, but something about talking to him made Alec feel like he was talking to an old soul. It was refreshing and kept his interest and it certainly made him glad that Magnus had approached him at the shop.

“No, three of my friends also work here. I had mentioned wanting to open the shop and they were all interested in helping out, they’re all history buffs." 

Magnus had finished polishing the brass on the clock and was now watching Alec, studying the way his face changed at certain objects that caught his attention. When Alec returned to the counter and looked at the photo on the wall behind him, he leaned over to inspect it closer, which had him nice and close to Magnus.

"That’s Catarina, Ragnor, and Dorothea. Cat, Dot, and Cabbage.”

“Cabbage?”

Magnus smiled as Alec looked at him, their faces less than a foot apart. He smelled like the mahogany and teakwood that made up a few of the clocks in the shop. It made Magnus wonder if Alec regularly chose woodsy scented colognes or if this was chosen to entice and attract- and either way, it was working. Almost distracted from the question he’d been asked, far too busy enjoying the somewhat fair skin on a jaw graced with what looked like two day stubble and wanting to run his fingers along it. Or his lips. 

He was the full moon on a cloudless night and Magnus found himself wanting to worship him like the pagans worshipped her.

“Cabbage,” Magnus finally breathed out as his eyes rose to meet those expectantly looking at him. “Once we were at the farmers market and passing a truck. One small freak accident later, and a small sea of cabbages were falling out of the truck and onto him. He was okay, I was not.”

“You weren’t? Did they fall on you or…?" Alec looked alarmed by the story, the cup he'd been cradling placed on the counter.

"Oh, no. I just couldn’t breathe because I was laughing so hard at him being buried under cabbages. He hates them.”

Their laughter rang out throughout the shop, the soft chiming of the grandfather clock at the door mingling throughout it to let them know it was noon.

Well he was just hanging around

Then he fell in love

And he didn’t know how

But he couldn’t get out

Just hanging around

Then he fell in love

Crickets chirped all around the two figures sprawled on the large blanket, the grass in the field unkempt and scraggly, but holding the fresh scent of rain. The damp soaking into the blanket didn’t seem to bother the duo, Magnus’s attention held by the stars and full moon above them while Alec’s own was on their entwined hands. It had been a year since they met, 10 months since they’d admitted their attraction, 8 months since their professions of love and it hadn’t budged since then, only grown.

“Do you think we should paint the apartment neutral colors, or neutral with an accent wall?”

Alec looked up as he was questioned, a soft smile curling on his lips at the reminder that they would be moving in together at the end of the year. His arm shifted up to rest his head on as he looked at Magnus’s face, illuminated like the field by the glow of the moon above them, his fingers moving to stroke up Magnus’s arm.

“Whatever you think will look best. We could do both? We have opposite color preferences, but they look good together.”

“Blues…purples…black and white, gold accents? We can figure something out.” Magnus hummed and soon turned on his side to mimic how Alec was laying, though the arm not pinned lifted so his fingers could run through Alec’s hair. 

“I’m glad you didn’t think I was some stalker creep for approaching you that day, you know.”

“I mean, I did a little…”

Alec had grinned with his lie, a fake yelp given as Magnus playfully growled and tugged the hair his fingers were running through. The taller man’s arms shifted then, grabbing Magnus and tugging him close as he rolled into his back, leaving Magnus to prop himself up on his elbows on either side of Alec’s head, their lips inches apart.

“I’m glad you came over. I’d seen you before, too. I’m pretty sure I have a drawing of the side of your face in my book, somewhere. I liked your profile.” Alec’s hands traveled slowly up the back of Magnus’s thighs, over his rear, and under the soft silk shirt Magnus had worn on their date. 

“You’ll have to show me. Maybe I’ll draw your profile too, terribly. We can frame them and put them on opposite sides of the hallway at the new place.”

This earned a chuckle from Alec, who pressed a soft kiss to Magnus’s lips, which seemed to trigger the other man into over-reciprocating. Several kisses assaulted him, covering his cheeks, his nose, chin, forehead, jaw, before a final was placed to his neck and joined by a gentle bite.

“I’d like that. All…domestic.”

“I like you, Alexander.”

“And I love you, Magnus.”

In the middle of summer

All was golden in the sky

All was golden when the day met the night

[tvmoviechristmas]

This Might As Well Happen: A Comprehensive Diary of Christmas Con

In early October, I was discussing the upcoming BravoCon, a celebration of Bravolebrities with my baby sister, Kerri, who was shocked nobody in my family wanted to go. I was trying to explain to her that it was both super popular and super expensive, when suddenly she interrupted with an idea.

“You know what would be crazy,” Kerri announces, “What if Hallmark had a convention? Hallmark Con! Would you go?”

"Kerri, they would hold Christmas Con in like Missouri, where Hallmark headquarters are,” I noted pretty quickly, “And I’m not paying to get a plane ticket to pay to see Lacey Chabert in passing. I’m not taking the time off work for that trip, that’s insane.”

“But it would match your brand!” she exclaimed, “You love Hallmark!”

“I don’t love Hallmark enough to get on a plane, but it probably won’t happen for years anyway.”

A week later Christmas Con was announced. It was taking place fifteen minutes away from where I live. For a second, I genuinely believed the universe had the ability to fuck with us personally.

--

The idea of buying a ticket for Christmas Con was a passing idea in my head, but it was not an item that was on the top of my to-do list because I had tons of other things to worry about. I was working full-time and taking certificate classes at night. I was in the middle of moving apartments and trying to sort through. organize and pack all the stuff. I was desperately trying to get my older sister to answer my texts about whether or not the facial stabbing that occurred in It: Chapter Two was handled realistically because she is a doctor and why become a doctor if not to answer my questions about injuries in pop culture? 

Things were crazy, and Christmas Con was just not a priority. I figured I had time to decide if I really wanted to go anyway. Christmas Con would not have that much of a demand, right?

Wrong. Christmas Con sold out in minutes. I figured I could potentially shoot my shot on obtaining a press pass (I do have three fans and a write-up in the Chicago Tribune!), but once again, I was like “this can wait for a couple of days”. There were other things to do! 

It could not wait for my sister, Kerri, though. There was nothing she wanted more than for me to go to Christmas Con. So she went on Instagram and DMed them questions about how to get a press pass before sending me what felt like a billion texts on how she promised the Christmas Con organizers that I was going to send them an e-mail to get a press pass that day and that she was going to pray that I get one because it was my destiny because it was fifteen minutes away and I run a made-for-TV Christmas movie blog. Do you want to fight destiny, Kace? Do you?

I guess I did not. So I e-mailed in my request, was somehow approved for a media pass, and subsequently lied to a billion people about what my plans for the weekend of November 8th were because nobody I worked with needed to know I was going to Christmas Con.

But that’s where I was going. As Kerri told me, “you’re a Christmas movie expert! That’s where you are supposed to be!”

--

FRIDAY

4:08 PM - According to the last minute e-mail I received from the Christmas Con organizers, the convention is supposed to open to the media at 4:30 PM. However, one of my two talents is getting hopelessly lost going anywhere, so I leave my apartment at around 3:40 PM and arrive at the convention around 4:00 PM. The parking lot looks deserted when I arrive and I briefly wonder if I am  at the right location, but then I spot some ladies seemingly tailgating the event in winter wear. This spectacle gives me the inkling that I am probably close to where I am supposed to be.

I figure that I might as well enter the con sign-in area a little earlier because I have a vague worry that the media line might be messy; however, the process of checking in is generally quick and painless. It probably helps that there was absolutely no line whatsoever. Even though I am terrified that someone to tell me that they made a mistake and it is ludicrous that a tumblr blog is getting a press pass to anything, I am actually given a media badge and waved into the hall.

I check my phone. It is only 4:08 PM. Immediately, I am frightened at the prospect that some security guard is going to yell at me for being in the convention area early, but after taking a deep breath I just decided to roll with it. It’s Christmas Con! We are all supposed to love each other! That’s the Hallmark way!

As I walk into the convention center, “Sleigh Ride” begins to blast on the sound system. Since “Sleigh Ride” is my least favorite Christmas song, my guard is immediately raised. Hopefully, the music choice is not a harbinger of bad things to come at Christmas Con.

4:25 PM -  I decide to mill about in the empty autograph area to get an idea of what Hallmark “celebrities” are going to be signing at the event. While attempting to get a picture of an Erin Krakow banner, I hear a door burst open and someone shouting “Lace! Lace! Lace!” from behind me.

Immediately, I become paranoid, scared that some con organizer is yelling “Kace! Kace! Kace!” because they know I am not supposed to be in the autograph area before the place opens. Maybe they also read my blog, and realized that maybe they do not want someone who doesn’t fully buy into Hallmark’s conservative message roaming around their event.

After ten excruciating seconds, my brain clicks back into place and I turn around to realize that it is just Jonathan Bennett having a dramatic Mean Girls reunion with Lacey Chabert before the event starts. Sometimes sneaking into areas you shouldn’t be in is worth it, even if it does spike your anxiety. That’s how you get exclusive content.

4:31 PM - As the clock hits 4:30 PM and the VIP pass holders storm in, I become a little more comfortable at the notion of hanging around Christmas Con and start to roam around the hall. The vendor area is a lot smaller than I expected and I did not expect it to be all that big in the first place. In total, there are about  20 booths set up, and a solid chunk of them aren’t even selling anything. The items that are being sold in the hall are not exactly what I expected either. One vendor is selling what seems to be a bunch of top hats. Another is selling cooking sauces. Surprisingly, there are only a couple of vendors actually selling Christmas decorations. Earlier in the week I had withdrawn cash from the bank with the idea that I might be able to buy something while I was at Christmas Con, but *spoiler alert* my cash balance stays the same throughout the entire three days of the event.

The centerpiece of the vendor area is a photobooth set up by Hallmark where you can take various kitschy pictures (in a snowglobe! by a fireplace!) while muted advertisements for their upcoming original movie slate and streaming service play in the background. It also is an area where you can look at a hilarious collection of framed screenshots and promotional photos of Hallmark’s crop of “celebrities”, which is my personal favorite part of the experience. Nothing says Christmas like a framed photo of Candace Cameron Bure peeking around a door!

4:43 PM -  As the convention starts to warm up, a lot of the “celebrities” are just walking around the vendor area . Nikki DeLoach jumps into a snowglobe picture with some random fans. Holly Robinson Peete films the Hallmark booth on her phone, while Rachel Boston tries to take a picture of the giant Christmas Con banner hanging over the autograph area. I am sure that this is the part of the experience is supposed to make the VIP experience worth it. You pay a lot of money to come in a half hour early, and maybe a Hallmark “celebrity” will walk by you as you take a picture holding a “I Love Hallmark Movies!” pillow.

5:12 PM -  The crowd starts to pour into the vendor hall as Christmas Con officially opens to the public and I instantly become a little scared. The Christmas Con crowd is not my crowd. I watch made-for-TV Christmas movies for the snark. They watch made-for-TV Christmas movies for the sentiment. I was genuinely dismayed when my mom bought me a Hallmark movie sweatshirt. They were theirs with pride. I get hives at the idea of paying money to take a selfie with anyone. They are all here to wait in line to take pictures with Lacey Chabert. Their idea of Hallmark-based small talk is discussing with each other how glad they are that Alicia Witt is here because they loved A Very Merry Mix-Up. My idea of of Hallmark-based small talk is ranting about how It: Chapter 2 could air on Hallmark if you really wanted it to. The plotlines are similar!

No, seriously! A woman in her early 40s, successful in her career but with the Wrong Guy, returns to her hometown after a tragic event to settle unfinished business. There she meets a friend from her childhood (played by a blandly attractive CW actor) who has been in love with her all along, and whose entire character is based around this love. He works with his hands and can build things! There are some missteps but eventually they kiss once and live happily ever after. On the sidelines,t here is a black friend mainly there to provide exposition and a gay friend who the writers aren’t really explicit about being gay. You put in some snow in the background and you can air it on Hallmark on Christmas Eve! It is uncanny!

Nobody at Christmas Con would care though, so I figure that this would be the time to check out the empty panel area. Right in front of the panel stage are a bunch of entries for a gingerbread house decorating contest that was being held on Sunday.

Yeah, the Christmas Con people are not my crowd.

5:30 PM - “Sleigh Ride” plays for the second time and I begin to think that maybe Christmas Con is against me.

5:51 PM - A lady sits down next to me in the panel area, which is still basically deserted. “Did you expect there to be more?” she asks me.

I flash my media badge at her. “Honestly, I didn’t pay for this so I can’t be disappointed.”

“I’m just happy I didn’t fly in from North Carolina for this because that would feel like a real waste.”

I just hum noncommittally in response.

5:57 PM - “There’s no bad Hallmark movie!” I overhear a woman telling a reporter. 

Well, that person isn’t reading my blog.

6:07 PM - Christmas Con is supposed to officially start with a tree lighting ceremony. The crowd gathers around in tree in the autograph area to see the event, but for the most part all you can see is people trying to take pictures.

Santa comes out with little fanfare and no announcement. It is a stark difference to Jonathan Bennett, who comes in with a huge announcement that includes a list of all of his credentials (there aren’t many, he’s only been in one Hallmark movie). According to the Christmas Con materials, he is hosting the event. I am not exactly sure what that means but apparently it involves him leading the crowd in a call-and-response version of “Deck the Halls”. 

“It’s what this is all about!” he tells the crowd after they oblige him. 

After that bit of hyping, Bennett decides to introduce the true star of the convention and so-called “Queen of Christmas”, Lacey Chabert. They do not waste any time after she is brought out and they light the tree. It’s hard to feel magical about all of this because it is impossible to see.

Bennett’s hosting tells me that we’re having a good time though. “Hey Santa,” he asks, “Did you know New Jersey could be so much fun??”

6:51 PM - After the tree lighting ceremony, I go back to the panel area to finish my soda before bouncing. My escape plans are dashed by a staff worker promises me that they are going to start the trivia game soon. I did not ask her if it was, but I feel obligated to stay now so to not disappoint her.

7:01 PM - Before the trivia game starts I glance at the stage and realize that one of the podcasters is livestreaming the room to their Instagram feeds.

“Oh fuck,” I mutter to myself, “Are they taking a picture of us?” 

“Yes, they want to see how bored we are,” the lady sitting next to me responds.

7:06 PM - The trivia game starts about fifteen minutes after the staffer promised me it would. It promises to be full of talent from “smash hit Hallmark podcasts”, a concept that sounds fake to me but is real enough to Christmas Con.

I make it about fifteen minutes in before I realize that watching other people answer “True or False” questions about Christmas isn’t incredibly fun when you don’t care all that much about the Christmas holiday itself. So I decide to duck out, hoping I don’t look like a complete jackass for doing so.

7:30 PM - Before I leave for the night, I take a lap around the autograph area to see how its going. It is going incredibly well for Lacey Chabert who has a line so long that the convention organizers announce that she will be staying 45 minutes after the event closes for the night. Only Lacey Chabert is making that courtesy though, which seems fair because nobody else is commanding much of a line.

In terms of bang for your buck, meeting up with “celebrity” who is not Lacey Chabert seems like the smart choice. The other guests seem to be having somewhat long conversations with the one or two people waiting in line for them, and if conventions like these are feeling like you are close to celebrities, isn’t that the experience you want?

A part of me feels guilty that these “celebrities” are just sitting around not doing much of anything, and it almost made me want to spend money on meeting them just so they would have something to do. Then I think about it for three seconds, and remember that 1) I hate meeting “celebrities” and 2) I do not make enough to justify spending money on lifting the self-esteem of “celebrity” strangers. So I leave that idea behind and leave the building for the night.

—

SATURDAY

11:30 AM - My Saturday morning class lets out early, so I make it to the convention center about an hour earlier than expected. It is much more crowded today. I’m assuming it’s because there is going to be more to do aside from watching a crowd watch a tree light up. My plan is to just park myself in the panel room all day.

I ask a staffer where media is supposed to line-up for panels. She tells me she has no idea, but she will ask and let me know shortly. She leaves and I watch her talk to people for a couple of minutes. She doesn’t turn around. I keep waiting and waiting before I realize that she is never coming back. I wasn’t getting answers, but I settle for buying a $6.00 cappuccino instead. I’ll figure it out.

11:42 AM - The first panel of the day is billed as a reunion of former All My Children stars Melissa Claire Egan and Cameron Mathison. I find myself sitting next to a family who are very excited at this prospect.

“We are going to be breathing the same air Cameron Mathison is,” the teen girl cries in excitement to a woman I would assume is her mother.

 “In a way, we already are,” the possible mother excitedly whispers back.

As they continue to vibrate in excitement, “Sleigh Ride” plays in the convention center for the third time and I groan to myself. At least someone’s happy.

11:56 AM - Cameron Mathison has been spotted by the family and excitement abounds, but not for his shirt. 

“Shouldn’t he be festive?” the possible mother asks about his all black ensemble.

“Well, he has to take a lot of pictures.” the teen notes back.

12:05 PM - All of the panels are hosted by the co-hosts of Bubbly Sesh, Hallmark’s official podcast. They bounce on to the stage before telling the crowd how excited they are to be there.

“We are with our tribe. Our team. A room full of Hallmark fans!” they say to a crowd of cheers.

I also cheer. Mainly, because I finally got the Wi-Fi to work on my laptop after a half hour of fruitless efforts to maintain a connection. But they don’t need to know that.

12:07 PM - I learn a lot about Cameron Mathison during the first few minutes of his panel. Apparently, he is the new host of Hallmark’s Home & Family talk show. He also was diagnosed with cancer in the past year, but is now in remission. And he is the apparent “king” of Hallmark Christmas movies, according to the BubblySesh podcast hosts, but that last fact seems debatable to me.

Mathison also claims during the panel that starring in The Christmas Club, an upcoming Hallmark holiday movie, is what made him realize that he needed to push his doctor for a cancer diagnosis. So Hallmark can apparently save lives. 

12:14 PM - Before the Q&A starts, the BubblySesh podcast hosts tell the audience to keep the questions free of the “nitty gritty”. The want everyone to stick to Christmas and  careers! It’s a real bummer because it means I have to scrap my plans to ask everyone what would happen if you got stabbed in the cheek, as that would probably be too gritty.

The Q&A stays relatively tame throughout. The most exciting it gets is when an audience member brings up the idea of doing a Hallmark All-Stars movie. The lady sitting next to me is excited about that concept! I wonder if Hallmark would have the budget to pull off a Love, Actually. I doubt it.

Every panel wraps up with the BubblySesh announcing that “it’s time for the BubblySesh Pop Culture Quiz!!!”. This quiz is less of a quiz and more just general Christmas based questions with a grating announcement beforehand. This announcement would become more grating every time I heard it (and it was at nearly every panel). At the time though, I wasn’t aware how haunted I would be by this “game”. It was still early in the day.

1:07 PM - Next up on the day’s schedule is a scarcely attended panel about Christmas podcasts, a podcast genre that is apparently more bustling than I would have ever expected. All the panelists (of which there are way too many) are enthusiastic about how well their podcasts are doing and give the crowd advice on how to start their own because, as they say,  you can never have too many Christmas podcasts. 

I never expected to get a motivational speech about how I could start a Christmas podcast if only I believed in myself, but then again I never expected to be at Christmas Con.

2:10 PM - The marquee panel of Christmas Con is up next, which is a Mean Girls reunion featuring Lacey Chabert and Jonathan Bennet. This panel is less of a Hallmark panel and more of a Mean Girls panel, and it takes all of five seconds for “so fetch” to be referenced.

The most Mean Girls detail of the panel though is how Jonathan Bennett latches on to Lacey Chabert. He spends the entire panel looking for every opportunity to compliment “Lacey Chabert”, and he always uses her full name. 

“Everyone on the Mean Girls set was constantly cracking up because Lacey Chabert was so funny.” 

“Lacey Chabert cooked everyone a Thanksgiving meal while we were shooting Mean Girls, and she is a great cook!”

“Lacey Chabert is the sweetest.”  

I half wait for him to announce how one time Lacey Chabert punched him in the face, and it was awesome. I have no idea why he thinks this hypeman routine is necessary, since Lacey Chabert has been commanding the longest autograph lines by a sizable margin and the hardest question she gets from the audience is “Why are you so nice?” I do wish I had a Jonathan Bennett in my life though. It must feel nice to be constantly complimented. I guess that’s why people aim to be the Queen Bee though, isn’t it?

2:32 PM - In what is clearly supposed to be Christmas Con’s buzziest moment, Daniel Franzese, who played Damian in Mean Girls comes up on stage to start delivering candygrams to surprise of the audience and the panel. Lacey Chabert starts to cry, while Jonathan Bennett screams.

After a couple more questions, Bennett tells everyone to take out their phones and begins to perform the opening of the “Jingle Bell Rock” dance to the room. Another potentially buzzy moment from a convention that desperately needs some. 

3:08 PM - Up next is an odd assortment of a panel featuring Nikki DeLoach, Alicia Witt, Holly Robinson Peete and Chad Michael Murray’s southern drawl. The last one confused me because I was pretty sure Chad Michael Murray had not spoken with a pronounced southern drawl before. I text my younger sister, Tara, a noted One Tree Hill fan if he had a drawl on the show and she tells me he did not. So why is he suddenly Southern? He also seems to have a hatred for chairs, and spends a majority of the panel trying to desperately slide off his.

3:23 PM - During the routine question about Christmas traditions, Nikki DeLoach gives an emotional answer about her young son requiring multiple heart surgeries and that her experience in the hospital taught her the importance of charity and giving back to the community during the holiday season.

Somewhat hilariously after that, everyone else on the panel announces that of course they are going to be doing more charity work this holiday season. Are they being genuine? Who can say. But you certainly can’t give a rote answer about how your favorite tradition is decorating the tree after a fellow panelist tears up about her experience giving toilet paper to the less fortunate and how it impacted her life. Nobody wants to look like a jerk.

4:07 PM - The last panel of the day features Jackee and Melissa Joan Hart, and the room is barely empty. As someone would inform me the following day, “it’s because they are more Lifetime than Hallmark Christmas movie stars”.

Lack of Hallmark “celebrities” aside, it is a great capper to the day. Hart provides a decent amount of insight on the made-for-TV movie making process, and Jackee is just a fun personality to watch.

The panel concludes with someone asking what’s a fun fact that someone wouldn’t know about them. Jackee answers that she is still having sex.

Good for her. It is a solid note to end the day on, as I decide to skip out on the upcoming Ugly Sweater Contest to go back home. Six hours of Christmas Con is enough Christmas Con for the day.

—

SUNDAY

8:31 AM - Early in the morning, there is a press line available for the media to attend if they have any questions for the Hallmark “celebrities”. I decide to skip that because the only question I need answers to is what happens when you get stabbed in the cheek (my older sister still has not gotten back to me on that), and I don’t think anyone who stars in a Christmas movie is going to have a satisfactory answer.

As I lay in bed, I briefly consider not going back to Christmas Con at all, but then I finally get a response from the super about the cockroach I found in my bedroom the night before. Turns out they are bugbombing the place, and I need to be out of the apartment for five hours. 

So back to Christmas Con I go.

10:30 AM - Christmas Con Day 3 is a weird place. Lacey Chabert is no longer the celebrity commanding the longest line, because former General Hospital star Ryan Paevey is there and his line is an hour and a half long. I am informed it is because he is hot. 

Even stranger is the fact that there is a twenty minute line to get a picture with a snowman balloon. I know there’s not much to do at Christmas Con but that seemed to be pushing the bounds of reason to me. But I suppose these are the new rules of Christmas Con.

10:52 AM - The people in the VIP line for the Danica McKellar and Rachel Boston panel are give me a rundown of how the autograph queue works. 

“You have to have your priorities in order!” they tell me before explaining that they got to the con at 9 AM to make sure to get their photo with Ryan Paevey. “He’s so handsome!!!”

They also explain that they find their VIP passes useful in snagging all the autographs their hearts desire. I say that that’s good because the VIP access the media badge allows me to have just seems useless for panels, which have never reached capacity. 

“Yes, they have!” a lady tells me, “There are always people hanging out back past the barrier trying to look in!”

I don’t have the heart to inform her that those people are just in line waiting for food and that as someone who has attended every single panel, I have always noticed empty seats. 

Later on in the conversation, I try to express concern that some of the panels have been too random a selection of “celebrities” who have no chemistry with each other and make for an awkward time. The group disagrees with my assessment. 

“Actually, they are all great friends. Did you not hear Jonathan Bennett call it Christmas Camp earlier? Do you follow him on Instagram? He’s been playing pranks on Lacey Chabert! It’s hilarious!”

Have I said that Christmas Con is not my crowd?

11:02 AM - Before the panels for the day start, “Sleigh Ride” plays for the fourth time. Apparently, no Christmas Con day can start without it.

11:16 AM - The panel line-up for the day starts with a panel with Danica McKellar and Rachel Boston. Someone informs them that they always have chemistry with their leading men, a fact which is news to me, a person who watched both McKellar act through one of the worst on screen kisses of all time in one of her June Wedding movies and Boston *mwah* her way through Ice Sculpture Christmas. 

“We have kissed most of the men here,” Boston noted in response before listing the con guests she’s done movies with throughout her time on Hallmark. There’s one person she realizes that she and McKellar have yet to kiss though. “Not Ryan Paevey.” 

“He’s next!” McKellar decides. That gets a decent response from the crowd, because he’s good looking!

11:48 AM -  “Sleigh Ride” starts up again as the panel closes. It has now played five times, which is five times too many in my opinion.

11:59 AM - The people sitting behind me at the writer’s panel are already preparing for next year’s Christmas Con. It goes to show you that not everyone hates being here. It’s a mixed response!

The writer’s panel is probably one of the more interesting ones because it’s one of the few about the process of creating made-for-TV Christmas movies. Of course, it means that barely anybody is there.

The few of us who manage to attend the panel have the chance to snag a “I Love Hallmark Christmas Movies” wristband from one of the writers. She gives me two. 

1:49 PM - After the writer’s panel is supposed to be the gingerbread contest judging, which I figure is a good enough time to take one last lap around the vendor hall. 

Ryan Paevey is still commanding an hour and a half line for autographs, but thankfully people are no longer waiting to take a picture with a balloon snowman. The booth selling Christmas romance novels has gone out of stock, but they give me their last advertising card. The outside world has discovered that nobody is monitoring the screen that displays #ChristmasCon2019 tweets so I spend a few minutes watching the spam tweets they are sending it’s way. It’s beginning to look a lot like Jeffrey Epstein was murdered here on the Christmas Con big screen!

One booth is trying to sell one of the “I Love Hallmark Christmas Movies!” wristbands for two dollars each, which is a total scam because other booths are giving them away for free. So I step in and give one of the ones I got at the writer’s panel to the elderly woman who is about to buy one. Those vendors probably do not like me, but I did not come to Christmas Con to make friends. I came to escape my bugbombed apartment. 

Speaking of, I am desperate to go home but a phone call informs me that I can’t go home until 4:00 PM. Two more hours of Christmas Con for me it is.

2:06 PM - After the gingerbread contest, but before the start of the When Calls the Heart panel a bell choir, who is not on the schedule, randomly performs. As I sit there wishing my apartment was bugfree so I could sleep in it, I hear loud and raucous cheers start up. I turn to the person next to me and ask if they know where the noise is coming from, and they tell me that there is a wine glass convention happening next door.

As the party at the wine glass convention seems to rage on,  I wonder if that’s where I should be instead. It would certainly keep me awake, and well, I broke some of my wine glasses during my move. It could be helpful!

2:18 PM - The When Calls the Heart panel is incredibly confusing to sit through for many reasons. First of all, I don’t watch the show, so every plot point mentioned just leaves me nodding as I try to pretend I am an avid viewer who cares. Second of all, I keep zoning out and zoning back in to the panel and every time I do it, something weird seems to be happening. Sometimes Paul Greene is trying to lead a sing-a-long of “White Christmas”. Sometimes Jack Wagner is wondering what the plot of When Calls the Heart actually is.

The most confusing aspect of the panel though is Greene’s button situation. Apparently, he thought that Christmas Con was the place to forget to button up. Maybe he’s trying to keep up with Ryan Paevey. Did you hear that he’s hot?

3:07 PM - The final panel of the event is the alleged “Hunks of Hallmark” panel. However, it is announced that Ryan Paevey is too hunky to be there, because he has a seemingly endless autograph queue and that’s where the real convention money is anyway. So we have to settle for Jesse Metcalfe and Andrew Walker, who has just arrived from JuiceCon. This fact delights the Q&Aers, and in what is supposed to be a hilarious bit we are all in on, everyone brings up the fact that Andrew Walker has a juice business when they come to the microphone.

At this juncture, I feel like a kid sitting in their final class of the day waiting for the bell to ring. Sure, we might be having fun bringing up juice all the time, but also it’s time to go home. And after one final joint scream of “It’s time for the BubblySesh Pop Culture Quiz!!!”, we are free to leave.

3:52 PM -  The panel closes and immediately “Sleigh Ride” queues up for the sixth time of the convention. If ever there was a sign for me to go home, it is that.

3:59 PM - As I drive the fifteen minutes back to my apartment, I call my mother. She asks me if I had fun at Christmas Con, and I genuinely don’t know how to answer.

“It was a thing that I did,” I ramble. “It was an experience. I think I would have been mad if I paid for any part of it or if I had to travel further than fifteen minutes. But I didn’t. And even the parking was free, so all I lost is time, which doesn’t account for much really, I guess.. And well, it’s a story. Plus, it’s my brand.”

And who am I to deny a universe that wants me to live up to my brand in new weird, free-to-me ways? If Christmas Con was good for anything, I guess it was that.

[ddaengsopemin]

Auto-Pilot

Ch-1

Pairing - Taehyung x Reader

Word Count - 4.5k

Genre- Fluff? - Mainly backstory/epilogueish.

Summary - You were young, happy, and healthy. You lived a good life. Up until the world flipped, and became stuck in their own lives and routines. You thought you were the only one left who had individual thoughts until you came across Taehyung.

A/N - This is hella unedited...I apologize. I will edit it at some point ^^; I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

The Christmas holiday had come and gone, your family carrying out their usual traditions of gathering the entire family around the Christmas tree with re-runs of Christmas movies playing in the background. Laughing as you each opened your presents. You opened one package to find a pair of socks, shooting a side eye at your parents. Who on earth wants socks for Christmas? All you wanted was a new toy, or a few new toys, to throw in your toy box and forget after a couple months of use. The next couple presents that you and your brother opened were exactly what you had wished for. A teddy bear that was taller than you, and the newest gaming console for him. The rest of the evening was filled with spending time with your family and playing with your newest belongings.

Days had passed, and the new year was upon you. You were excited to light sparklers and twirl them around your brother, as your father popped off fireworks in the middle of the street. You had always loved the bright colors of the fireworks, but hated the loud noises that came with them. The clock struck midnight as all of your family hooped and hollered in the streets, hugs and kisses were passed around and the adults took sips of their champainge. This is the last, and one of the only, memory that would stick to the forefront of your mind.

The rub of your tired eyes signaled your parents that it was time to put you to bed. They kissed you goodnight and turned off the lights as they walked out of the room. Leaving the door cracked open just enough for light from the hallway to pass through. Everything seemed fine until you woke up the next morning.

You pulled yourself out of bed, the small pink clock on your bedside table reading 7:05am. The smell of pancakes and eggs filling your senses as you padded into the kitchen and took your usual spot at the kitchen table.

“Morning Mommy.” You said as your mom scooped some eggs onto a plate. “Good morning, dear.”

Nothing registered as off in your small mind until she sat down across from you, scooping her own food into her mouth. You were chattering along about what you wanted to do for that day and did not earn a single response from her. You waved your hands in front of her face, but to no avail. Looking around your table, you noticed your father and brother wore the same expressions on their faces as your mother did. Their eyes looking slightly glossed over as they ate, no conversations other than the usual morning greetings that you all exchanged every morning.

“If you guys are playing a trick on me, you can stop now.” You pouted. Still, no response.

You pulled yourself away from the table and stomped off to your room.

Why are they ignoring me...I didn’t do anything… You idly wondered as you pulled a coloring book off of your bookshelf.

The rest of the day went in the same fashion. Your parents asking you questions, and telling you to do various activities just as they had done every other day. The only thing missing was the connection from the words to their emotions. Everything was robotic, calculated. The rest of the days following were exactly the same. Your parents and brother going about their daily routines, not saying or doing anything that was different from the previous.

You tried your hardest to comprehend what was happening. Everyone at your elementary school was acting the same way, all except for you. Friends, teachers, faculty, neighbors, people you passed by on the street. All of them had the same, glossed over look in their eyes. No conversations, no changes. All you could do was give up, and live your day to day life the best that you could.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Before you knew it you were graduating high school and moving onto university. You tried your best to live as normally as you could, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the laughter and conversations of your family and peers. You needed a change, you needed to get away from the same boring life you lived everyday, and that is exactly what brought you to Seoul University.

Moving to Seoul gave you the breath of fresh air you so desperately needed ever since the day your world was flipped upside down. A tiny part of you held hope that moving to a big city would hold change, hoping that it was only your tiny town that was affected by this weird phenomenon you took to calling autopilot. You had felt so desperately alone from the time you woke up, to the time you had finally cried yourself to sleep. You took your seat on the bus, excitedly looking at everyone around you only to be met with glossy eyes, and stoic faces.

Keep yourself together, Y/N. You thought. You’re not even out of the town yet. You can’t expect change this fast... You sat back, popped in your earphones and waited for your bus to start the long trek to Seoul.

Your eyes fluttered open as you began to enter the city. You scrambled towards your window to watch the city lights fly past you. The butterflies felt like they were swarming in your stomach as you approached the bus stop. As your bus pulled to a stop, you began collecting your belongings. Everyone filed out of the bus seat by seat, the rest of the passengers taking off towards their destinations almost immediately.

The bus driver handed you your suitcase from the storage bin under the bus, giving you an almost inaudible thank you as you returned the gesture and grabbed your bag. Even though no one spoke to you or acknowledged your existence outside of what would be assumed as a normal routine, you still treated everyone as the human beings they are. It made you feel grounded, even though you could essentially do whatever you pleased, you stuck to the rules and did what you were supposed to do.

Looking at your phone, you mapped out the route to the closest coffee shop. Luckily there was one a two minute walk from your current location. You slowly walked in the direction of the shop, taking in your surroundings as you did.

You made it to your destination faster than you expected. As you stood outside the small coffee shop you immediately felt calmed at the warm scent of coffee wafting out from the open doors. The shop was on a quiet corner, soft music filling your ears as you made your way to the register.

“Uh..I’ll take a medium black coffee, please.” You rattled off to the barista looking at you from behind the counter. “That will be $4.50” She said as you handed her your card.

You collected your things and walked to one of the many tables littered around the shop. The walls of the shop were a mixture of different variants of brown. Some tables had tall barstools, some tables were lower with bean bags surrounding them. There were a couple couches in the corner that had college students huddling their laptops, completely engrossed in whichever subject they were studying. The walls had various paintings on them, none of which had a certain focal point. More so colors that wrapped from corner to corner, leaving their interpretation solely up to whomever was looking at them.

“Medium black coffee.” You heard the same barista call out as you left your table to pick up your coffee. You went to the small table near the counter and added some cream and vanilla flavoring into your cup. Sitting back down at your table, you clicked your tongue and began searching your backpack for your laptop. Once you retrieved the device, you opened a new tab and typed “Apartments for rent” into the search bar. You spent the rest of your morning lining up apartment tours, hoping to find a place to live as you only had enough money for the deposit and a hotel room for the week.

After hours and hours of walking through apartments and finding something wrong with each one, you stumbled upon a ‘For Rent’ sign, ironically right across the street from the coffee shop you went to this morning. You were on your way back to pick up your luggage when you spotted the sign. Checking your watch you noticed you still had about an hour before the leasing office closed. You shrugged your shoulders and made your way up the stairs and into the office.

The office was small but cozy. There was an older woman sitting behind the desk. You smiled to yourself as you noticed her glasses sitting halfway down her nose as she buried herself into the book she was reading. You knocked on the frame of the door, alerting her of your presence. “Hello...I came in because I noticed the for rent sign on the window?” You told her as you made your way to sit in front of her.

“Of course, dear.” She smiled a wide, toothy grin at you. “Let me get the keys and we can head right up.”

You watched as she checked each of her pockets, before locating the keys in the center drawer of her desk. “Follow me.” She said politely.

You followed her closely as she lead you to the elevator and pushed the button for the 4th floor.

“The apartment that we have for rent is a two bedroom. It is not very big, but the layout is nice and offers a little bit of privacy.” She informed you. “Plus, you are on the top floor so it has a nice view of the streets below. The best part, in my opinion, is being on the top floor, you have easy access to the rooftop garden.”

You smiled and nodded in her direction as you heard the small ding from the elevator, alerting you of your arrival. You followed the landlord out into a small hallway, the walls painted white. The large windows on the other side of the stairwell leading up to the elevator doors blasting light through the hallways. There were 6 apartment buildings on each floor, 3 to the right wing and 3 to the left. The older woman led you to the last door to your left. As she unlocked the door you began rattling off questions, which she easily replied to. Such as the rent, how much of a deposit you were going to have to put down if animals were allowed or not.

“Ah, here we go.” She murmured as she finally located the key to the vacant apartment. She opened the door and pushed it open, letting you enter first. As you stood in the doorway, you quickly slipped off your shoes and began looking around the living room area.

“I will be waiting right out in the hallway if you need me.” She called out. You thanked her and began walking around. Silently glad that she offered you some privacy as having the landlord at you heels always made you anxious when you eventually told them you were not interested in the apartment.

You were immediately in love with the apartment. It was indeed small, and it had an extra bedroom that you did not need but it was well kept and was in the part of town you were already somewhat familiar with. The living room was as any other normal living room, but what made it stand out was the three large floor to ceiling windows that stood next to the door to the balcony to your right. Just as they did in the hallways, an amazing amount of sunlight was let into the apartment. Making it feel bigger than it actually was. You could already picture yourself sitting next to the window with a cup of coffee in your hand, nose in a book that you had finally had time to read. Oh, and when it rains… You thought. Imagining opening the blinds and watching the rain puddle onto the quiet streets below.

You moved into the kitchen next, it was slender but had everything you needed. Stackable washer and dryer behind a sliding door at the end of the kitchen. “Perfect, I won’t have to leave to do laundry…”

You turned around and walked past the dining area, down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Both bedrooms were around the same size, four walls, and a closet. There was a bathroom set in between both bedrooms with access by a door to your right in the first room, and the left in the second. The bathroom was rather large compared to the other rooms in the apartment. There were a stand-up shower and a bathtub to the left of the shower. On the right side of the bathroom was a large, two sink vanity with plenty of drawers and storage. You turned off the light and made your way back to the doorway, peaking around the corner to find the older woman sitting crisscrossed on the floor, her nose in the same book as before.

You cleared your throat to grab her attention, “So, I really loved the apartment. How is it that an apartment like this, comes at a price like that?” You asked. “Not that I’m complaining!” You threw your hands up in the air.

“Because, dear.” She smiled at you and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she stood in front of you. “Not everyone is out for money...If I can make enough to upkeep this place and feed myself while helping out people who may need it,” She said pointing a look at you. It must have been obvious to her that you were new to the area… “I will do what I can to help out. There are a wide variety of people who live in these apartments. Each one’s situation differing from the next. Some of them move along when they get back on their feet and comfortable; others stay because we are like a family, and this is their home.” She had turned her back towards you as she spoke, making her way to a door on the other side of the hallway. “This,” she pointed to the door. “Is the door to the rooftop. You are free to use it whenever you’d like.”

“Oh! Oh goodness. Listen to me. I am already babbling as if you have said you wanted the apartment. My apologies if I seemed a little too pushy there…” She giggled as she covered her face.

You could not fathom what she could have said to be perceived as pushy. You erased the shocked look that had etched itself on your face at her outburst and shook both of your hands in the air. “No, no. That was not pushy at all.  I am very interested in renting this apartment from you. It is the nicest, most well kept and updated one I have seen all day.”

“Great!” She cheered. “Let us go draw up a contract then...After you.” She guided you towards the elevator and you entered when the doors opened.

The thing that made you feel a little less alone in this world was salespeople. Usually, society would try to get as far away from someone trying to sell them something as they possibly could unless needed. To you, it was someone you could have a conversation with, no matter the length, with only fragments of their robotic chains leaking through. Once you were done with the conversation though, they switched back into those confines, forgetting your name and any sustenance the conversation may have had. You knew as soon as you left this office, you would just be another face handing her the rent money. The thought made you sad, but you resolved to enjoy the small speck of life within her while it lasted.

After about two hours, the contract was said and done. She said you could move in immediately as she slid the apartment key across the table and into your awaiting palms. You shook her hand and thanked her over and over as you backed towards the door to her office and out the front door of the building.

You turned towards the building and looked up towards the sky. Alright, Y/N. You thought as you gave yourself a pat on the back. You did it. Admittedly, you were surprised you were able to find a place to live in a 10 hour period...You thought it would take days or even weeks to find a place you felt safe and could afford. You shrugged your shoulders, chalking it up to luck as you skipped across the street to the coffee shop to retrieve your luggage.

You made your way to the hotel on the corner and got yourself a room for the night. Pulling your toiletries out of your suitcase and taking a quick shower once you were inside your room, tucking yourself into bed. You had a tiresome day today, and you were positive tomorrow would be even more so. As you closed your eyes, sleep pulled you under its blanket in no time.

Sunlight poured through the window, prompting your eyes to slowly open. Despite how badly you wanted to close them again, you knew you had to get up and begin your day. Stretching out your tired limbs you crawled out of bed. Brushing your teeth and throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you pulled out a pen and paper from the side table drawer and sat down at the table.

“Let’s see...what do I need…” you questioned and began making your list.

“Bed frame...mattress...dining table...couch…TV…” You thought of the big things that you needed to make your apartment feel like home, hoping that you could scrunch the smaller things into your budget as you went along.

After you finished your list you shoved it into your purse and made your way out of the hotel room. Checking out of the hotel, you made your way down to the coffee shop. Popping in your headphones as you walked down the sidewalk, the beat of the song putting a small pep to your step.

You sat down at the same table you had the previous day, throwing your things down before getting into line. You began singing and dancing as you waited in line, knowing that no one would think anything of your behavior or horrendous singing. You gave your order to the barista and headed back to your table, waiting for your name to be called.

It was then that you felt a pair of eyes on you. A feeling that you hadn’t felt since you were very young. Your eyes snapped up and began looking around the room. As usual, everyone was engrossed in their everyday routine to look in your direction. Everyone except one person. You spotted him sitting in the opposite corner of the coffee shop, the straw of his iced coffee stuck in his mouth as he stared at you. You thought for a moment that you had disturbed him with your singing, but his stare wasn’t one of anger or a glare. It was more childlike, and inquisitive. He had a small smile as he sipped on his coffee. You thought he was rather cute with the beanie pulled over his head, causing his blonde hair to lay flat across his forehead and slightly into his eyes. He was wearing round glasses and an oversized hoodie. He looked away from you suddenly, and back down at his laptop. It was then that you realized how long you had been staring at the stranger, and you felt almost as if a spell had been broken. Like the energy surging between the two of you was suddenly cut the second he looked away.

Shrugging your shoulders you knelt down to drag your laptop out of your bag. Preparing for your full day of shopping online for furniture and household appliances. You had gotten two jobs the second you were of legal age to obtain one, and saved every penny for this day. You had a couple thousand saved, and you had carefully calculated exactly how much you could spend in each area of your apartment. After buying everything you needed, you had exactly one month to find a job before you would be in trouble.

You were too engrossed with giggling to yourself that you hadn’t even noticed the boy walk up to your table and take a seat. A look of shock crossed his features when you looked up at him from above your laptop and tilted your head. He quickly regained his composure, and smiled in your direction.

His smile was probably the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. It was boxy and charming, as his cheeks reached his eyes. You cleared your throat and asked, “H-Have we met before?”

He shook his head, and he very much reminded you of a small puppy. “Wait...You’re responding to me...In a normal conversation...That we’ve never had before…” Your eyes were wide with disbelief as he nodded in the affirmative, his huge smile never leaving his face.

“So...Can you talk? Or are you just going to nod your head at everything I have to say?” You questioned, looking at him with your eyes slightly narrowed.

He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “Taehyung.” He introduced. You wrapped your hand around his, immediately comforted by the heat he radiated. His hand completely engulfing yours, you heard him giggle and looked up only to realize you had been blatantly staring at your hands wrapped around each other without saying anything. “Y/N.” You said sheepishly as you pulled your hand away from his.

“So...You’re not trapped in this warped robotic fantasy land that everyone else in the universe is trapped in?” You asked. Watching his face pull into a thoughtful expression as he trapped his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Nope. I don’t really remember much from the day everything changed, but all I know is I did not change with it.” He said. “It is obvious that you are not like them either. Wow. I moved to this city for a change of pace from my normal dull life, but I never in a million years would have considered the fact that there was someone else like me out there…”

“Yeah...I don’t remember much either.” You nodded. “And...I moved here for the same reason and thought the same thing...This is weird, huh?”

“Weird, but comforting.” He said and that stupid, blinding grin returned to his face.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him and giggle as you heard your name being called to retrieve your coffee. You returned back to your seat and fell into a comfortable conversation with Taehyung as if you had known him your whole life. It was strange, you had always thought that if you ever did get to have a real conversation with someone again that it would but awkward and strained. But not with Taehyung.

“How long ago did you move here?” He asked.

“Actually...I just moved here yesterday. I was shopping for furniture for my apartment before you walked up.” He nodded and looked down at his hands that were folded in his lap. “How about you?” You replied.

“I uh…I just moved here...Today.” He stuttered. You raised your eyes at him.

“Oh! Well, then we are both newbies.” You laughed. “Have you found a place to stay yet?”

“No.” He sighed sadly. “I’ve been looking all day, but there is just nothing in my price range. I saved up some money, but not THAT much money. I guess these things take time though...I shouldn’t be impatient.” He looked up from his hands and back at you. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I found a place yesterday, actually.” You chuckled as you rubbed the back of your neck. Not wanting to rub it in Taehyung’s face that you had already found a place.

“What?! Really?!” Taehyung yelled, causing you to slightly jump in your seat.

“I mean...I walked around all day looking for a place, and I kinda just stumbled upon it really.” You rushed.

“Wow. What awesome luck.” He said as he threw his arm over the back of his chair. He wasn’t mad at you, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t jealous.

The thought popped into your head. Maybe...he could stay with me until he finds a place. The company would be nice...and you haven’t genuinely hung out with anyone since that day… You shook your head and hit yourself. Get yourself together Y/N...You haven’t even known the guy for more than a couple hours...How do you know he’s not a creep or a murderer?!

Taehyung’s laugh pulled you out of your internal argument, and you blushed at his stare on you. “I know what you’re thinking.” He said quietly.

“You don’t have to feel bad or push yourself to invite me to live with you or anything like that. Although, I would like to keep in contact...If that is okay. It is a little lonely in this world, you know?” He looked at you and you could tell he was being sincere with his words.

You nodded. “Actually, I was thinking that the company might not be so bad…” You looked anywhere but his face. Not wanting him to catch you struggling with the fact that you are inviting a stranger to live with you. “We...We could split the rent and utilities...I have an extra room...So it’s not like it would be an inconvenience…” You began, rushing the words out awkwardly.

“Y/N..” You heard Taehyung call, and you immediately halted your tirade. “I would like that. Can I see the apartment first? I gotta make sure I’m not agreeing to live with a creep or anything…” He winked at you and laughed.

“Y-Yeah. Let’s go. It’s across the street.” You said, standing up to collect your belongings and made your way out of the coffee shop and across the street. Taehyung quietly following a few feet behind you.

Oh Y/N...What are you getting yourself into...

[mamgt]

There’s No Way

PeterMJ Fanfic 

Synopsis: The story takes place after Spider-man: Homecoming. What started out as Peter reaching out to Liz after the events that happened with her dad transforms into a long distance relationship. This lasts until college where Ned, Peter, and MJ go to NYU. They all have different courses but take an elective on Robotics that sends them to a convention all the way in Prague.

Note: UH. I don’t know if this will be more than a one-shot mainly because I have school and I’m already writing for my fiction writing class so I don’t know when I’ll be updating this. BUT I do have my story in bullet points so hopefully I don’t leave y’all hanging. 

“Honestly, I knew this was coming… I just… I don’t know. I’m usually smarter than this…” the line crackled, the phone heating up in Peter’s palm. Liz continued, “I thought…I don’t know what I was thinking…” she took a big sigh. “I just thought maybe things would change…”

“I’m sorry” Peter mumbled, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. He had no right to cry. He was the one breaking it off with Liz. So why did he feel his eyes burning?

Liz sniffled at the end of the line. Her tears far more justified than his. “But can I tell you something?”

“Of course! Anything!” as if his enthusiasm would soften the blow. Liz was probably spilling out tears a million miles away and he couldn’t even hold her.

“I wish you had done it sooner.”

“I’m sorry” he said again.

“Not for me, Pete. For her.”

Peter didn’t answer. He just clutched the phone tighter, mimicking his own heart squeezing, making it difficult for him to breath.

“Things like this… She’s without a doubt the smartest girl I know but Pete, things like this, you have to tell her. You have to tell Michelle or else she won’t get it.”

“I know” he really didn’t or else he wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Now you can’t…Don’t ruin this for her. If Harry really means something to her…if she really cares about him, Pete… One broken heart is enough,” Liz’ voice shook, it trembled with every word she pronounced and Peter kicked himself a little harder every time.

Liz knew all along and he felt stupider than he was five seconds ago. Their conversation continued to escalate in a downwards spiral and now, more than ever, he wished he had done this in person. It was the least she deserved. No. Liz deserved so much more than this. How long had she known that the man she loved didn’t feel the same way? But Peter liked her for a time. He’s sure that there a moment of utmost genuine love between them.

“How long…how did you know? About…Michelle?” Peter’s voice cracked like this was the first time he had spoken in years. It felt unnatural.

“I just…I assumed.” She sniffled it again and he could hear her exhale a long breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I see you…look at her and…” she sighed, like every word was painful and it probably was. “…I wished that you…I thought you would someday…look at me that way too.”

The silence stretched out. There were no words that Peter could say to alleviate the situation. There was no amount of apologies to offer at her feet that could suffice the pain he caused her. Still, Peter had to try.

“For what it’s worth, Liz, I did love you.”

“I know,” he could her smile a little, it was a sad smile, “you just loved her more.”

Peter couldn’t remember if their conversation had ended that way or if he still attempted to comfort her. But you don’t heal from the things that hurt you. You don’t pick-up the same knife that cut you, you let it go and find a bandage.

His head throbbed, sandwiched between his pillows. His face was damp from tears he didn’t even notice roll down his cheeks. The sun started filtering through his curtains. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. It was as if he simply lay there with time relentless ongoing, merciless to his circumstance.

He had lost two of his best friends in a span of a week and he felt the void swallow him whole. Well, he didn’t really lose Michelle. He just lost her to Harry but he could always call her up. But how much time before he fades into the background?

He really lost Liz but he never really deserved her. He was never hers fully. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating himself a little more with every click of the clock. He wanted to envelope Liz in his arms, run to her all the way in San Francisco, beg her to take him back but he knew that would only hurt them both. He was pathetic in the fullest sense and yet she loved him.

Distance and time, that’s what he could give her.

How was it possible that Liz had always known how he felt when it had only been ten days ago that he realized he was in love with Michelle? A feeling beyond just attraction but a wanting…to hold her hand, to lay his head on her shoulder, to have her lips…on his...

They had done a Before Sunrise and jumped on a train to Prague for the day. Their applied chemistry class in NYU was attending a convention for aspiring innovators but that day they decided to play hooky. MJ had waited for him while the rest of the class went ahead to the venue. He had not slept that night and was coming back from spying around in London, tracking down the newest villain that threatened his people. She was in the lobby slouching in one of the chairs reading Great Expectations.

“Hey! Ned said you were waiting for me,” Peter strolled towards her. She stood up and slumped her backpack on one shoulder, their height differences apparent.

“Yeah. You owe me.”

“Oh. Well, you could’ve just gone ahead, MJ…It’s—“

“But I didn’t,” she said nonchalantly.

“Oh okay.” He followed her out through the doors and into the train station. They were seated in one of those chairs with a table in the middle and Michelle just kept reading her book. Peter was thinking of strategies he could use for tonight in order to further investigate the recent crimes. He was doing calculations in his head and mapping out routes when Michelle announced, “Come on, loser. Let’s go.”

“What? But this isn’t our stop yet!”

“Do you have money with you?”

“Yeah, I mean…what’s going on?”

“You’re repaying me now” she pulled at his sleeve and he followed without too much opposition. Once they were out unto the platform, Peter asked, “What now?”

“We explore, idiot.”

They were in old town Prague with its building bursting with stories to tell and histories that have passed. They ran through small stores and kiosks trying on different products and touching things from keychains to bags of all sorts of colors. The Old Town Square was lively and romantic with the the Church of Our Lady in front of Tyn, The Old Town City Hall and the Baroque church St. Nicolas surrounding them. Peter pulled out his camera and started taking photos, indulging everything he was seeing. MJ brought out her sketchpad and starting drawing the Old Town City Hall. Peter peered over her shoulder, amazed by her skill.

“That’s really good.”

“Thanks” she smiled softly before returning to her sketch. He took a snapshot of her then, her hair falling effortlessly down her back, her brows furrowed head tilted, biting her bottom lip as she silently looked over the building. His heart made a little somersault that he swears was just his spider-senses going off. He pressed it down to his stomach but it kept coming up, making his heart beat a little faster.

“What?” Michelle turned to him.

Stunned, Peter didn’t answer immediately. Michelle simply shook her head. “You better not have taken an ugly photo of me, Parker.”

They spent two hours just going around, laughing at each other, pushing each other to take a photo in certain areas like true tourists. They talked to the locals and got to know some of their stories, how some of them were immigrants from a war-torn country. Michelle listened attentively, her heart pouring out to them and every second he watched Peter felt like he was melting. Wave after wave of unrecognizable emotion came over him. He had fallen more quiet as they went along their trip. While his camera was filled more and more with MJ’s face than the beautiful sceneries.

“I like having a guy friend.”

“We’re friends?”

Michelle nudged Peter, they were back on the train going to the convention, hoping no one noticed their absence. “Shut up,” Michelle replied. Peter chuckled liking that her shoulder had not left his as they sat beside each other in the cramped train.

“It’s just that… see… we can do this, go off randomly for a day without planning. Girls…well not all of them but the girls we came with on this trip? They have to know where they’re going, have to know what to wear.” MJ rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been out doing this shit if one of them would just come along. You? I take you anywhere and you just do.”

Peter felt warm and he panicked that his cheeks might have been red at the point but thank god Michelle was looking outside the window while she was talking. He wanted to say something back but he feared that he would falter and he might say something stupid. He didn’t even know what these feelings were that he felt right now as he sat beside her, watching her hands, the hands the drew perfect lines, wanting to hold it in his. These were all new to him, new thoughts that have never occurred or they have but he had feared them.

“I like having a girl friend too” was all he managed to say.

“Thanks,” she showed him that same sweet smile, her cheeks round like apples.

“Yeah…Liz is the best,” he joked. Michelle nudged his gut with her elbow and he folded downwards but at least he would have a better excuse with the blushing.

When they met up with the rest of the NYU students, Professor McCallaghan immediately asked where they had been for the past four hours.

“Peter had to take a dump and you told me to wait for him.”

“For four hours?!”

“He must’ve eaten something bad last night.”

Peter tried so hard to suppress his laughter especially when Professor McCallaghan looked at him with pure pity. He nodded holding his stomach. Ned was already chuckling behind the professor, squeezing his mouth with his hand.

Chapter 2

[leaiorganas]

writing meme

RULES: List the openings of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

tagged by my favourite @theputterer! Sorry this took so long and thank you! I love writing tags!!

last ten of my fourty stories (omg) on AO3

1. say you love me - rebelcaptain

Five Five minutes is all it takes for the course of her life to change. She’s sure of it.

Five minutes in which a man, once a stranger, had gathered together the first of her hope and had welcomed her home. She remembers that she had stood there, unsure and insecure. No one had ever breathed those words to her, no one had ever extended so much of themselves to her. She had been used to being alone, fighting to stay one step ahead of anyone who could hurt her.

And in the span of five minutes, she had a family. People she could call friends. A sense of purpose. For the first time in her life, she knows she can forge ahead with something more than just herself. The burden is heavy, the weight of it is crushing her and somewhere, she hears a clock ticking.

2. act like you love me - rebelcaptain

It’s been two months since Scarif and Jyn has been trying to figure out what her relationship with Cassian is, if anything at all. Oh, Cassian is always thoughtful, asking how she is and joining them at meals when he can. Sometimes, she believes that he feels the same about her that she does about him. She’ll catch averted glances, small smiles, and a gentle hand to the shoulder when he leaves for a meeting and it sends a spark coiling to her stomach.

But then there are the days that his manner is brusque and his face as impassive as the day she met him. She hates those days, when Cassian the spy emerges and he has even less to say than his usual quiet self. It’s not like they have deep and meaningful conversations, there isn’t much time, but Jyn knows she is getting closer to being brave enough to try.

The problem is, she is just not quite sure if Cassian feels anything at all for her beyond a camaraderie, a friendship and wonders how much she is risking by wanting more.

3. a little too much - rebelcaptain

The weeks and months after Scarif were a blur of injections, bacta treatments, and countless droids poking and prodding at her. The days were endless meetings, negotiations, and just the daily struggle to heal. She knows her injuries are minor, mainly battered and bruised from her fight on the catwalk, nothing that she could not recover from so her main priority, once she is released from med-bay is trying to discover what happened to the rest of the crew that had left for Scarif. She was heartbroken to discover that there were only eight survivors out of their original crew and weeps quietly the first night in her newly assigned quarters, mourning for those that were lost and yet deeply relieved that her small crew had made it out alive.

Barely.

4. all the rest of my life - rebelcaptain

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of complete silence. Two weeks of no calls, texts, messages, nothing.

It’s the strangest thing.

It’s like he has fallen off the face of the earth and no one knows where he is. She’s called everyone; Kes and Leia included. She finally broke down and reached out to Kay whose only response had simply been to let her know that Cassian was fine and would be in touch when he could.

So, Cassian is fine and doesn’t want to talk to her?

It’s strange.

5. here are your upturned hands - rebelcaptain

Cassian realizes just how much he wants Jyn on an ordinary Centaxday.

Maybe it is the long, dullness of the meeting, maybe it is the knowledge of Jyn next to him but he does remember that it started on a Centaxday.

He hadn’t woken up that morning intending to realize he was in love. He hadn’t woken up intent on anything other than trying to make it through another long day. He had some small hope that he was going to be able to finish his last mission brief that he had (uncharacteristically) push off to the side, maybe some time with Kay-Too on a droid they were both working on. Those were his only intentions.

And that worked until Draven’s late afternoon meeting.

Once he starts watching her, he can’t stop watching her.

6. it’s a thin, thin line - rebelcaptain

She learns early on that he is quiet and efficient, a product of his life spent drifting along with the shadows. He never says more than he should, never volunteers anything about himself. She finds that for him; every moment, every word is calculated to give as little as possible. There is an intensity about him that draws her in despite how little he says out loud. She sees that he spends most days listening and watching others and so, she watches him. She watches the way he furrows his brow when he is trying to puzzle something out. She watches the way he appears devoted to a conversation but can see the way his eyes never seem to stop moving or assessing.

7. someone good to come - rebelcaptain

There’s music playing in the background; something festive and merry and she still can’t get over how many candles Kay and Bodhi were able to hang from tree limbs. They are everywhere, casting a soft light as they turn and twinkle against the settling sun. There’s so much food and drink, there is no way she is going to ask Leia where it all came from.

Leia coordinated the whole thing, was maniacal down to the last detail. We deserve this, you both deserve this, after everything we have done and everything we have been through. It’s time, don’t you think?

She couldn’t agree with her more but there is a knot of tension settling in her stomach and she is not completely sure why.

8. you’ve got a hold of me - rebelcaptain

“What do think about the new guy?”

Cassian had been watching the makeshift cantina fill up from his corner of the room and shifts over when Jyn prods his knee. He turns slightly so he can slide out the other side quickly if he needs to. He hums thoughtfully but does not answer Jyn’s question. She sighs and turns towards Baze who has joined them at the table.

“Where’s Chirrut?”

Base simply shrugs, “He is talking with young Skywalker, they are on their way here.”

“What do you think about him?” Jyn turns the full force of her gaze on Baze. Cassian sighs quietly beside her, he thinks he knows where this conversation is going.

Again, Baze shrugs, “I don’t.”

9. i guess i’m going down, like this - rebelcaptain

Jyn once asked her father how he knew that Lyra was his soulmate and he laughed quietly.

“It was in her touch.”

It would be years before she understood that he meant it literally.

10.  Someone Like That - whouffaldi

Clara stood in front of her bedroom mirror, waffling between two dresses. She held up a black dress with a sweetheart neckline up to her chin and cocked her head. This?

“The black one for sure.” Amy, her flat mate, was sprawled on Clara’s bed reading a magazine. She hadn’t glanced up before announcing her decision.

“You don’t think it’s too revealing?” Clara pursed her lips before bringing a red sleeveless sheath up over the black dress.

“Nah, the lace on the sleeves makes it a bit more demure even with that bodice. I don’t get why you are so nervous. How many of these holiday parties have you been to anyway?”

Too many. But this year was different; this year the Doctor was going to be there and after trying to get to know him the last few months, Clara felt that this could very well be her last chance.

Any patterns? Hmm, do you guys see any? 

I rarely start with conversation

Looks like I try and set a mood with the first paragraph

I need to keep on writing

I tag these lovelies though any of you are welcome to do this (especially if you read through this whole post): @atthelamppost, @riderunlove, @timelordthirteen, @goingtothetardis, @sequencefairy, @longjackets, @gwendolynnby, @thestarbirdfromtheashes, @gloriouswhisperstyphoon, @ladytharen

[queen-loyal]

The Nightmare Chronicles

Prologue

  If you have only just opened the page and picked up the book. Put it down and turn away. This is not a fairy tale story for amusement, this is about my life. This is the first warning.

  My name is Narcissa Whitlock, I am 16 and on the run from the world. The story you are about to read is my life. I won’t go into detail for some things, mainly the gorey stuff that made even me squeamish. I will warn you, this story is not for the weak willed. If you want to continue you need to be strong. You have to be able to think things through and see it from every point of view. It will not be pretty and not easy. At first you won’t believe me, but everything is the truth.

  If you continue, you MUST be on guard until you finish this tale of woe. It is not an easy road I travel. Oh and last warning, I have three gay best friends so if you don’t want to continue, that is your choice.

 Each vision will get progressively worse and more gruesome as the tale goes on. So this is your last warning to turn around. Believe me it will be imperative you continue reading once you start reading.

 So join me if you dare on this tale of woe and misfortune. Join me, my best friend, Damien, and my godparents on a trip around the world to save my mother and destroy my normal life. At least as normal as it could be when I get visions of murders and kidnappings. Enjoy my tale and hope you make it through the night. Have fun, you poor unfortunate soul.

Chapter 1

   COLD, DEAD EYES STARED INTO mine. I struggled but after a while I realised it was futile. The ropes that bound me to the tree dug into my arms and I bit my lip withholding a wince of pain. My dark brown hair kept getting tangled in the bark of the oak tree that held me. The figure turned and walked away towards a small table a few feet away.

 They picked something up that shined in the moonlight and then set it back down. The figure picked up something else and then set it back down on the table. They repeated this process before they finally settled on something. As they turned again to face me I realised they were a male in mid-twenties to early thirties. I caught sight of what was in his hands I screamed. I kept hoping someone would hear and save me as he got closer. The last thing I saw was the sadistic smirk on his face.

 My eyes flew open and I released a panic filled scream. My hands flew across my body feeling for injuries. A sigh of relief slipped past my lips when I realised there were none.  I threw the covers off and scrambled out of bed over to my desk. I quickly pulled out a sheet of computer paper, my colored pencils and charcoal and set to work. I quickly sketched what I could remember of the man. His eyes, in an icy shade of light blue, were filled with anger, hatred and disdain.

 I finished sketching him and went to get ready for the day. I pulled my rainbow hair into a ponytail and I put on my favorite outfit. It was a black pleather skirt, a silver tank-top, a pair of black leggings and a black headband with cat ears on them. I grabbed my black high heeled boots and headed out my door. I was on about the 13th step from the bottom when I heard my mother sobbing.  I raced the rest of the way down.

  My mother sat sobbing on the couch while the news played on the television.

   “... The body of a young woman was found tied to a tree in Aliso Canyon Park. Her body badly mutilated and her eyes were missing along with a few chunks of hair. Not much is known on who she is, the police are still trying to figure out what the motives are, who the killer is, and who is our mystery woman? If you have any Information please call XXX-XXX-XXXX, and you will be anonymous and it will help,” the woman spoke. “This is Laura Jones reporting at Aliso Canyon Park. Back to you Tom.”

 I gritted my teeth in anger and slammed my fist into the power button causing my mother to jump. I plopped next to her and covered my eyes. We sat in silence for a few minutes, barely breathing.

   “Did you see it?” Mom finally asked.

  “Yeah, I just saw it a few minutes ago,” I replied.

  “Sketched?” She wondered.

  In response I stood up, pulled out my phone, and pulled up Steve’s number. I handed her my phone and headed upstairs to grab the sketch. I looked up at the feeling of being watched. I shook it off and headed downstairs. I never noticed the glint of metal and the same cold dead eyes I had seen in my dream/vision.  I could hear my mom talking with Steve as I walked down the stairs. He was sitting on the couch with a rather portly fellow who looked out of place on our small couch. Steve spotted me and stood up. He was like a second dad to me after my dad died and even before then. He hugged me tightly and we only separated when the portly officer coughed.

  “Ma’am we can arrest you for calling us here for no good reason besides a social visit,” The man sneered at me.

  “Enough, Jones, you have been nothing but rude since we entered that door,” Steve snapped.

  “Are we seriously trusting a 17 year old child to-”  Jones started.

  “Narcissa is the reason we have solved 48 cold cases in the past two years,” Steve snapped.

 “SHE IS A CHILD!” Jones thundered, face red.

 “Listen here, you fat fuck,” I snarled, my anger finally getting the best of me. “I have done more than you think I have. Now try me  you pudgy bastard.”

 Steve pulled me away and began muttering calming words to me while Mom tore into the other officer. When I was finally calm Steve told me to go get the sketch. I bolted up the stairs and grabbed the sketch. I turned around and felt shivers run up my spine. I whipped back around to look out the window and saw nothing. I shrugged it off, never knowing that that was a big mistake. I took the sketch downstairs and handed it over to Steve.

 I also told him about the feeling earlier. Steve took the sketch and left with his partner. I collapsed on the couch and closed my eyes. A few minutes later a cold can was pressed against my neck causing me to jump a few feet in the air. I took the can of Sprite from my mother with a small smile. I leaned against her and glanced at the clock. 12:08 PM. I groaned as I stood up and headed up to my room to get changed into my work clothes. I bounced down stairs once changed.

 I grabbed my keys, lightly jogged outside and headed to work. I won’t bore you with the details. After work I quickly changed and called up my best friend, Damien Blair.

 “HEEEEY!” Damien shrieked.

  “Ow, asshole,” I snapped.

  “Sorry, Cissy, outta work?” Damien laughed.

 “Yeah, meet me at the pool, dude?” I asked, trying to force the weird feeling creeping up my spine away.

 “Hell, yeah, I’ll be at there in two minutes,” Damien stated as I pulled into the pool’s driveway. Damien pulled in shortly afterwards. I always keep a swimsuit and towel in my Impala. I met Damien at the door and we headed in together. I paid to have the pool all to ourselves for the next hour. I quickly changed into my neon green zebra striped bikini and paused in front of the mirror. Two fingers ghosted over the jagged scar on my stomach and I sighed.  I had gotten it when a truck hit my Uncle’s jeep. I shook myself out of my reverie and headed to the pool. Damien had already hooked up his phone to a pair of speakers and started blaring Big Time Rush songs. I dove straight into the deep end, which is 12 feet deep, mind you.  I surfaced a few seconds later and locked eyes with Damien. He stood there in a pair of swim trunks, his hair cut.

 “You cut your hair? Without telling me?” I demanded, my eyes narrowed angrily.

 “You like it?” he asked, twisting side to side.

 I climbed out of the pool and sat on the edge next to Damien. He sighed and leaned against me, his tan fingers intertwined with mine.  I sighed and leaned against him.

 “So what have you been up to at work?” I asked softly,the sounds of country music in the background.

 “Flirting with the new guy, perks of being the manager,” Damien replied as he released my hand.

 We joked around and swam until an hour before the pool was scheduled to close. I pulled myself out of the pool and headed for my phone. Suddenly ice flooded my veins and the floor seemed to be rolling under my feet. My vision became tunneled and the noises echoed. I don’t know how long the attack lasted but when I came out of it Damien was standing next to me looking worried.

Let me know what you think. Be honest if you have ideas or an OC you want me to place in the story PM/DM or email. saveitengruber17@gmail.com. please dont steal my work I've worked really hard on this. Thank you!!!