#interesting what you said about falling into the same trap as louis in seeing him as bigger! i really do love that beat in 2.08

[pynkhues]

https://x.com/andaIasia/status/1785994775117680922

Yeah even with that blazer blocking the view, the circumference of his waist looks really narrow. It's funny, I feel like even I as a viewer kind of fell into the same thing Louis does of seeing Lestat as bigger -- I just rewatched 1.2 and when he takes his shirt off as they're walking through the house I was like, wow, he is REALLY slender. Yes he's got the shoulders and he's muscular, so he doesn't read as slim in the same way Louis does, but...he's really really slender

(x)

I actually don't even think it's just his waist in that particular video, it's his chest and lower body too, which I think is what surprised me? I'm used to him having a tiny waist, haha, but someting about that video (and second anon, you could be right in the sense that the outfit's just more fitted than what he normally wears for press) really seems to emphasise how slim he is in general.

[alex51324]

OK, so I'm now caught up on Interview With the Vampire (TV). I have some observations:

Wow, was that trial ever a master-class in poor-little-meow-meowification! I was legit getting flashbacks from the (season 1-hiatus) Izzy Trenches, with the whole, "Pointing out that he doesn't have to put up with my behavior, and he wouldn't recommend anyone else do so either, is--due to Meow-Meow's personal circumstances--an act of such exquisite cruelty that it excuses pretty much anything he does while he's upset about it," and "sure, yeah, this thing Meow-Meow did sounds bad to you normies, but because we're pirates vampires it's barely anything; a slight loss of temper for which he should be forgiven completely because the other dude said something mean", thing, plus the side of "Oh, but that threatening to leave is the most brutal form of abuse thing applies only to Meow-Meow, and in only one direction; it's fine for decide to part ways with anyone else at any time for any reason, and nobody else has any right to find that at all upsetting."

(To be clear, I genuinely liked this in IWTV; it was interesting seeing an audience falling eagerly into this trap, when the audience is also fictional, and the show itself is winking and nodding to us about it.)

(I do wonder if the show is going to grapple with this at all next season--the reunion suggests that Louis had also fallen into this trap. I'm unconvinced by the fan-theories suggesting that Lestat was an unwilling participant in the trial; there might have been some use of vampire mind-powers to keep him on-script during the proceedings, but I think he genuinely didn't realize he gave a shit about Claudia until it was too late.)

2. The aging-up of Claudia's character (she was a little little girl in the books) puts her at right about the same age as The Vampire Currently Known As Armand was when he was originally sex trafficked as a human, and I wonder about that stirring up some long-buried feelings. Does the grotesque parody of innocence inherent in Baby LuLu have some parallel in his experience as a sexually exploited child? What happened to Arun--or to Amadeo, even--if he failed to play his part with a reasonable facsimile of enthusiasm?*

On the one hand, I'm interested in these potential parallels; on the other hand (glancing back up at point 1), it's a tricky needle to thread, to see these parallels as contextualizing Armand's actions, but not excusing them. I do not entirely trust fandom not to turn this into, "Well, she reminded him of His Worst Trauma, so everything he did to her was basically self-harm, and he pretty much had to kill her in order to achieve closure on that period of his life**."

(*Some of this may be addressed in the books? The Vampire Armand came out on the waning edge of my Anne Rice phase; I'm pretty sure I read it, but I don't remember much about it, and I don't have a copy. The parallels with Claudia wouldn't be, though, because in the books she was 5.)

(**Izzy Trenches flashbacks again.)

3. As someone who read the books back in the day, I appreciated the brief mention in S1 that Louis's grandfather had owned a plantation, worked by men who "shared his complexion but not his circumstances." To me, that line opened up the possibility of reimagining Book!Louis as also being Black.

(To be clear, he canonically could not have been; beyond that fact that It Would Have Come Up, in the first few pages--which I just re-read--he is described as being bone-white. Even if he was mixed and white-passing, it doesn't quite work.

However, Anne Rice did write a book, Feast of All Saints, about a mixed-race protagonist, who was the son of a slave owner and a woman he enslaved. I remember almost nothing about it, except that the white father had promised to free him and send him abroad to be educated, but broke that promise. Porting some of that over onto a book-canon-era Black Louis could be very interesting.

I'd have to re-read both books--and probably TVL, too--to be able to even think about writing it, which is...unlikely, but I put that idea out into the universe.)

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi! I finally get the chance to read ch 8! Took me long enough 😆 All of Loustat interactions are so sweet!! Really hope the show would give us more interactions like yours in the show! I don’t know if you have address this yet, but can I ask again your opinion on ‘baby trap’ ? Is more that Louis want Claudia to make him feel less lonely when their relationship is falling apart? Or the baby of the family would come even if the relationship is not falling apart? Can you tell me all your thoughts again? And with Rose and Victor?

Hey nonny!

Awwww thank you for the feedback, so glad you liked the interactions! More to come ☺️

I... and I'm aware that this may be an unpopular opinion, but I don't think their relationship is falling apart there just yet. It's at an impasse. Their marriage is not as Louis has probably imagined it. His professional life is in shambles. His family support is gone. The vampiric life is not as freeing as he thought.

Louis triggers the Storyville catastrophe (there is much more to this, and it must have been brewing for a while, but for the sake of brevity lets shorten it to this), and tries to blame it on Lestat when he calls him out on deluding himself - and then he deliberately wounds Lestat and rushes out. (Now, this is not to take blame for that little clusterfuck discussion away from Lestat (the anniversary comment... seriously, honey, did you s/o look like he would feel the same...), but the fact remains.) And I think Louis backed himself into a corner with it. And he also has mentioned that he wants a family... and more than implied that it is not a family for him (yet) with only Lestat.

Despite being a vampire, with powers, he cannot help those in need in Storyville. And he wants to. He wants to do something, change something. And he finds her.

And... despite the fact that he could turn her himself, or that he could take her to a hospital... he rushes back with her to Rue Royale, to Lestat. I'm not sure whether he knew what he was doing there, tbh. I think it was more instinct than anything else, and the rather pure wish to save her. (Louis turns two vampires in his life, both for Claudia (when all is said and done)... but he actually never wants to. I think this unwillingness applies here, too, and is one reason why he takes her to Lestat.)

It's an offer.

He spells it out, and you can see the shift in Lestat as he does it, the awareness that comes with it. I find the expression on Lestat's face then hugely interesting, it's between a snarl and a smile, but in an extremely wounded way.

Louis wants a family, and asks him to give it a try (once more), despite everything.

And Lestat, despite all of Marius' warnings, and against his (spoken out loud) better judgement, agrees.

Now, Claudia ends tragically. However they'll spin it, I'm pretty sure it will stay that way. A child, saved from the flames, ending in ash.

And then... later, much later, there's Rose.

A child, saved by Lestat. Put up with a host family instead of turning her, but kept track of, by Lestat and Louis, who obviously have learned from their mistakes. It is really a shame that we do not get more background info on how this caring for her might have come to pass, but Louis then coming to her rescue (and avenging her, too) is strangely fitting.

A child, saved from the flames, that lives.

Eternally even, since she is later turned, after falling in love with Viktor, Lestat's... errr.... (clone-slash-mini-me-made-by-Fareed) son. (I would pay so much money just to see Sam play an "innocent Lestat", seriously. Lestat without trauma, without the mean streak. Like... I want to see it?!!!)

When I first read Rose's and Viktor's story I did not care about it much. In fact it irritated me^^. Who was this woman again? Who fell head over heels for Viktor (and why the hell did that have to happen?!), and why was Louis coming to the rescue and taking her to Trinity Gate amidst all that was happening??? Like.... why....??? :)

Rereading I get it now, I think.

And...

The show added the parallel with the fire for Claudia. I think, that if we really get to the Prince Lestat arcs (and I hope we do!) that we get to see the parallel with Rose.

And what she means, for both Louis and Lestat.

The girl they saved who died.

And the girl they saved who lived.

[quercusfloreal]

Le 3e Gédéon

I was hesitating to talk about it but here we go. May I introduce you to the manga "Le 3e Gédéon".

Warning long post

What it's about ?

Manga in 8 volumes, it tells the story of Gédéon Aymé who dreams of becoming a deputy to the Estates General to save the people from misery. George, the Duke of Loire and his former comrade, also seeks to change the system, but instead use violence to achieve his goal. This is going to be a story where the two characters will fight each other, one wanting peace and peaceful change, the other a radical and violent change.

What did I think of it ?

I found the story good. It manages to mix fiction and French revolution. It's full of inconsistencies but somehow it works. However I wouldn’t advise this manga to everyone. There is psychological and physical torture, gore and nudity. The images can sometimes be very crude.

What about historians characters ?

Well, we have the most badass portrayal of Louis I've ever seen in my life, he’s able to detect the slightest lie. Marie Antoinette may seem shallow, but she knows perfectly well how to play her charms to turn the tables in her favor. Their couple is interesting because each of them can't really love the other completely. Madame Roland is an ambitious woman who we learn had a daughter with Gédéon. Saint-Just is the slightly confused teenager who will eventually grow up and assert himself. Charles Philippe, the sociopathic Count of Artois, wants his brother's place and Elisabeth, the king's sister, wants Marie-Antoinette's place.

But what about Robespierre ?

I said in an old conversation that Maxime had daddy issues. Let me explain. One of the main themes of this manga is family and father figures. We learn that Gideon's father is the duke and he has exchanged his son's place with George so that Gédéon can be closer to the people. George has a real grudge against the duke because when Gédéon will be older, he should have become a servant again. But by trapping Gideon he kept his place.

Maxime has a real grudge against his father and George will use this information to manipulate him.

The first time we hear about Robespierre is in the first chapter. George is looking for easily manipulated men who can help him destroy the old system. Saint-Just, recruited by George, tells him that Max would be a potential candidate. Maxime is invited to George's house and has to save a former peasant, now a bandit, from the death penalty because he attacked George. Of course Maxime succeeds but it was a test. Of course, George can’t deny Maxime's skills but I believe it’s hearing the conversation between Maxime and Gédéon about Gédéon’s daughter that made him decide :

Robespierre : Shouldn’t you start trying to be a good family man ? You should leave the Assembly to single people like me !

We see Robespierre again later in a rather amusing scene with Gédéon. Gédéon, drunk, says Saint-Just's erotic writings told the boy is a virgin and is amused. And who is the virgin in the same bar as Gédéon? Boom Maxime !

Their following conversation will confirm that Louis XVI is the father of the kingdom.

Yeah, but when does George act ? Well, Gédéon sees Maxime again when the Estates General stagnate and there is a talk about creating a new assembly. Since Gideon is now part of the King's police force, Maxime asks him if he can meet the King discreetly to solve the problem. But without clearly knowing it, George is already starting to manipulate Maxime.

Keep in mind the puppet representation. It will be important for the next step. Because it’s present when Maxime's words contradict a part of his thoughs and when this thoughs takes controls.

After Gédeon refuses to join Saint-Just, Maxime explains to him, if Gédéon continues to hang out with the royal family, there will be repercussions. And if Gédéon tries to find his lost daughter and make politics at the same time, he will lose both. Because for Maxime, children are burden to their parents. Maxime explains his childhood, his dead mother and his father who left. He is resentful of himself because he believes it was his behavior as a child that made his father disappear, that he was a burden to him. This is why he doesn’t want children.

But underneath this justification, even if he pretends the opposite, he has hatred towards this father who abandoned him.

Gédéon : You have the right to hate your father.

Robespierre : In this case, I have the right to kill him, right ?

On the day of the meeting with the king, on the way to the palace, Maxime admits to Gédéon that his father sends him letters. In this letters, his father talks about his new family. Of course he knows that this is probably a trap, but we feel that it’s a sensitive subject for him.

Robespierre : Over my shoulder, I saw myself when I was ten years old.

Then comes one of my favorite scenes, a scene of tension between Louis XVI and Robespierre. Louis explains there are three locks on the table, if he thinks Maxime is lying, he will break one of them.

Robespierre : Since that time, I have always respected you as a father.

Louis XVI : One...You were warned, lies don't work. Either you don't respect us, or you don't respect the concept of a father.

After two, Maxime admits being one of the instigators of the problems at the Estates General and to make it stop, Necker must be dismissed because he makes promises that the nobility will never accept. Louis accept to think about it.

And here comes the chapter where I most wanted seeing George to lose and die painfully because his plan is totally twisted. Maxime receives a letter from his father who tells him that Henriette might not have died if he had been there, implying that it is Maxime's fault that he left. Then Maxime sees in front of his house a woman abused by a man. He threatens to take him to court but the guy explains that Maxime has nothing to say about the correction of a husband to his wife, named is Henriette...Oh boy !

The next day, Maxime proposes her to leave her husband, that he can help her by offering her a place in the convent of Arras. There, she would be safe. But she refuses because her husband will find her and she is unworthy of his help. Maxime feels unable to do anything. He remembers his dying sister. In the evening, another intermission, but this time Maxime decides to act. He intervenes until the girl confesses her father married her.

At this words, Maxime becomes mad and releases all the hatred he has accumulated towards his father. George's plan to make him forget any peaceful method succeeded

Robespierre now lets his hate guide him. If Louis is the father of the kingdom and the father of his subjects, then he must pay too. He goes to see Necker, tells him to accept his resignation to become a martyr and harangues the assembly to join the people and take up arms. He explains the first attack will be at the Invalides, then the people need to take care of the Bastille afterwards, because it is a royal symbol.

Camille : Maxime notice me !

Gédéon doesn’t agree with Robespierre, he thinks it’s necessary to think of a more peaceful method because it risks having deaths. He no longer recognizes his friend

Robespierre : I assure you Gédéon, I haven’t changed. Gentlemen ! Listen up ! We've been trying to find a resolution through dialogue for a long time! Alas, all our efforts have been in vain...a pure waste of time...and why !?

Robespierre : You too, Gédéon, I bet you've seen abused children love their fathers so much that they fall apart. Gédéon: Yes...

We see him again only after the march of the women on Versailles. Gédéon tells him that George is the one who sent him the letters and played on his dislike for his father to kill the king. He wants to find the wise and peaceful Robespierre.

Gédéon : And this other one love his father.

But Maxime does not believe him. His hatred is still too strong. When another lawyer asks Maxime to save a man, Maxime takes time to think, because the man looks like his father. It’s the words of Saint-Just that convince him to give up this man because he had previously seen the damage caused by the Duke of Loire on his sons George and Gédéon.

Robespierre : He’s a complete stranger, there is no doubt about it !! Saint-Just : Wouldn't it be better if he were really your father? If he were condemned to death, you would be delivered from him.

Saint-Just : Destroying everything to build a new order, that's what I think revolution is !

Finally, Maxime is released when the king died. Gédéon has found the death certificate of his father, confirming Maxime has sent an innocent man to death. Maxime seems to be happy on the day of the king's death but when he saw George and reconised him as the girl he tried to save, everything gets destroyed. He cries because after all he has done, he cannot go back.

Saint-Just embraces Maxime who he’s crying : I will always remain at your side, until death separates us.

The last time we see him is when marie-Antoinette curses him and other revolutionaries at her execution;

I reconize Saint-Just, Robespierre, Desmoulins, Marat ? (right middle), Danton, Hébert, Mme Roland, Augustin ? (bottom right)

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Antimatter | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 2486

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR 13X15, general Criminal Minds things (mentions of violence, shootings, robberies, death, etc)

This is part of my Galaxy Universe (MASTERLIST). You don’t need to read anything prior to this to understand this fic, though it may help! 

You thought your little found family had finally found some reprieve after a long year of difficulties. Spencer was reinstated, Mr. Scratch was dead, Matt Simmons joined the team, and everything seemed like it was returning to your normal crime fighting routine.

As it turns out, you were wrong.

You didn’t think twice about following Spencer out of the round table room. You were loyal to your team, and Assistant Director Linda Barnes was not going to snuff the mojo out of these people that you loved so much.

You caught up to Spencer in the bullpen, where he was shoving books into his bag. He didn’t look up when you slid onto his desk.

You waited a minute before speaking, “what’s our plan?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” you were quick to follow him to the elevator.

“We need to come up with a plan before you leave, Spence,” you knew what he had just done was risky but it was the right move and you stood by your decision to follow him. You also knew that the problem wasn’t going to be solved without some other course of action, however.

“I can’t go back there. I’m not working with her scrutinizing our every move.”

“So don’t. Stay here and figure out how we’re going to get her out of our hair. Emily might know something that we don’t, she just had a bunch of meetings with Barnes, right?” You didn’t like how tense this conversation was becoming. You were currently on the same page as Spencer, that much you knew, but he could read 20,000 words per minute and it was going to take a lot for you to keep up with the pace his brain was working.

“Emily’s suspended,” you could tell he was thinking hard about what steps to take next.

“Go to her place and let her know what’s happening. Distancing yourself from Barnes is the best move before you get yourself fired.”

“What about you?” The elevator dinged to signal it’s arrival. Spencer stepped inside, holding the doors open.

“I’m going to go with the team. We need boots on the ground to figure out exactly what her plan in action looks like. I’ll be a centralized point for info about how she’s targeting everyone and get you it as quickly as I can.”

“Good luck,” he gave you a sad excuse for a smile.

“Go get Emily, I’ll be ok.” You watched the doors close, then walked back towards the round table room. You straightened your posture before opening the door and positioning yourself next to JJ. The rest of the team gave you some very strange looks that you tried to ignore.

“Will you be joining us, Agent (y/l/n)?” Barnes asked, almost as if she expected you to say no.

“I will, thanks,” you showed no weakness, making direct eye contact with her. She didn’t push further, instead confirming JJ’s ‘Wheel’s Up’ and leaving the room.

You spent the entire trip to St. Louis avoiding questions from the rest of the team about what had happened when you and Spencer left the briefing.

In a moment of quiet on the jet, JJ approached you while you were getting coffee.

“Were you able to talk to Spence before he left?” She asked in a hushed whisper, back to the rest of the plane.

“Yeah,” you said slowly, eyes flickering to where Barnes was staring the two of you down, “I’ll tell you about it later, it’s best that you don’t know for now. Trust us on this?”

JJ nodded, “let me know what you need, I’ll make sure it happens.”

You arrived in St. Louis and watched as Barnes demeaned the local PD, undermined the procedural profiling, and intentionally paired herself off with each member on your team. It was only a matter of time before she got to you.

You had been purposely avoiding her, instead collecting tidbits of information from your coworkers about their conversations with her that were unrelated to the case at hand. You intentionally stayed behind to work victimology when she finally cornered you in the conference room.

“You’re loyal to a fault, Agent (y/l/n),” she wasted no time addressing you.

“Excuse me?” You chose to not look up from the crime scene photos.

“Following Agent Reid out of the office this morning was a bold choice,” she tried to assert herself into your space, something you weren’t about to allow.

“I don’t see how my loyalty is a fault. I could see that Doctor Reid was unwell and I wanted to make sure he was ok.”

“You were suspended while he was in prison last year, were you not?” Clearly she had done her homework, although you didn’t like the way she twisted the situation inaccurately.

“I was on medical leave from field work, I still assisted remotely from Quantico and retained all other privileges.”

“Caused by Agent Reid’s arrest?”

“Caused by pre-existing mental health conditions that I’ve been treating since before I joined the BAU. My leave was temporary to help get it under control after the stress of Doctor Reid’s false arrest.”

She was quiet for a minute as you shuffled to the next file. You hoped that she would start asking about the case before you lost your temper, your secret mission would be compromised if you couldn’t keep your head down about it. Her next statement didn’t surprise you, though it came from left field.

“You do know that interpersonal relationships within a Unit are against Bureau policy.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re implying,” you put down the file to finally square up to Barnes. She had seen your file, you knew that much, but you were now doubting how much she had actually read into it.

“Are you and Agent Reid romantically involved?”

“Doctor Reid is my best friend. Last time I checked there was nothing in Bureau policy that didn’t allow that. I don’t appreciate you speculating about my personal relationships when they’re clearly not relevant to this case.”

Questioning your loyalty to the team was one thing, but attacking the most pure thing in your life was going too far.

“What is relevant to this case then, Agent? Your skills must be more useful elsewhere than sitting in a conference room looking at photos. Perhaps a transfer to a tactical unit would be more beneficial to the Bureau?” She finally pushed in a direction you were expecting.

“I would think that the Bureau would be more interested in well rounded agents instead of one trick ponies. I’m building my skillset here, rather than getting stuck in a rut doing tactical work.” It wasn’t completely the truth, just last year you had talked with Spencer about the possibility of you transferring to the Hostage Rescue Team. A tactical position would make sense, considering your strengths, but you had found such an unlikely home at the BAU that leaving was out of the question.  

“You’ve been building your skills here for almost a decade. Why do you think Agent Prentiss was promoted to Unit Chief over you?”

“She was the right choice. She has seniority, as well as a more rounded viewpoint from her other assignments. I trust Emily Prentiss wholeheartedly.”

Just like Matt had predicted, Barnes was trying to pit you against your team, “what about Agent Jareau? You’ve been a profiler longer than she has, do you know why I promoted her above you?”

It was her mistake, honestly. Of all the people who she could try to turn against the BAU, you weren’t a good choice. Instead of falling into her trap, you doubled down, “she’s been with the team longer than I have. Knowing how the team works is just as important as knowing how to profile if you want to do this job right. I fully support JJ as Unit Chief, but that’s not why you picked her, is it?”

“It is not.” You waited for her to elaborate, but instead she left the conference room to talk to Matt. As soon as she left your phone was at your ear calling Spencer.

“She had the nerve to ask me if I was romantically involved with you,” you hissed as soon as he answered. You heard Emily laugh on the other end of the line.

“What’s happening with the rest of the team?” Spencer spoke up.

“She’s trying to push us all out, but keeps denying it. We’re closing in on this case, but she’s stepping on our toes all over the place. She wants to make this a quick close but honestly she’s only making it harder for us to profile this guy. How’s it going on your end?”

There was a pause, which you assumed was caused by Spencer taking you off of speaker and stepping out of the room.

“She’s trying to leave. She said someone had to take the fall for what happened with the Truthers-“

“You’re not letting her, right? Nobody needs to take the fall for what happened, where did she get that idea?”

“Barnes, I guess. I’ll keep working here, keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Ok, good luck.”

Doing what you were doing proved harder than you thought. Barnes stepped completely out of line during the validation strategy, getting the unsub killed when Tara and Luke were completely capable of talking him down. You were fuming but knew you needed to keep your head down as to not blow your cover with Spencer, so instead you tacked yourself to Luke’s side with the knowledge that he would tell you if you were about to do something stupid.

It was the right call, because JJ tore into Barnes on the jet and you knew you didn’t have the authority to add on to it. It felt like a small victory, until Barnes met you all in the office right before you were about to head over to O’Keefe’s.

“Agents Prentiss, your suspension is lifted. You will be reassigned within the Bureau, your new post has yet to be determined. Agent Lewis, you will also be reassigned. Agent (y/l/n), you are being reassigned to lead a SWAT team in the city, congratulations on the promotion. Agent Reid, you will be a full time professor with our exchange program. Agent Rossi, the FBI deeply appreciates your service and the Director wishes you nothing but the best in your retirement. Agent Simmons, Agent Alvez, you will remain here at the BAU. Garcia, your loyalty to the team is appreciated but it feels like a fresh start in a different department would be best.”

She made it seem like your reassignment was a good thing, but that was far from the truth.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer answered his door faster than you thought he would, eyes narrowing behind his glasses when he saw your disheveled state a few weeks later.

“I’m losing it. I’m going to get my whole team killed. I can’t keep doing this,” you spilled before you were even able to step into Spencer’s apartment.

“Here,” Spencer led you to his couch and pressed a hot cup of tea into your hands, “take a deep breath, you’re here with me. Did you just get off of a case?”

“Yeah, a bank robbery downtown. We locked it down but the whole time I was thinking about how it could have gone wrong.”

Spencer didn’t say anything, instead letting you sip tea and breathe for a minute.

“When Barnes reassigned me I thought her goal was to give me a promotion so I wouldn’t want to come back to the BAU.”

“It was, she knows you’re an incredible agent. Any unit is lucky to have you.”

“What if it was to break me though? She’s read my file, she knows my episodes have been more frequent since you were arrested in Mexico. Did you hear about the school shooting that happened last week?”

Spencer nodded.

“I was there, Spence. I was there. And the whole time I was leading the team through the hallways getting kids out I kept thinking about Jack, and Henry, Michael, and Hank. How they could be in that school, how there were already kids in that school that I hadn’t saved. I couldn’t save them.

“When I first started out at the Academy my peers all told me I would head up SWAT one day. I thought it was what I wanted until I joined the BAU. You even said I’d do well on a tactical team a year ago, so I trusted the process and that we’d get back at Barnes but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep having panic attacks after every case. It’s not fair to my team, someone’s going to get killed and it’s going to be my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s Barnes’. Why don’t you take a couple of days off and sit in on my lectures? You can even guest speak if you want, I scheduled an extra day in the syllabus in case I needed to go over any material again but I don’t need to use it.”

“You’re too good at this, Spence. Where’s your mom?” You looked around his small apartment, already starting to feel better.

“She’s in the bedroom resting. She’s liked having me home so much, although she asks me almost every day when you’re coming to visit,” he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m at work now more than when we were in the BAU. I have a newfound respect for every time I’ve called in SWAT in the past nine years,” you joked.

The comfortable silence that fell between you as you finished the drink in your hand was cut short by Spencer’s phone ringing.

“Doctor Reid,” he answered, “Hi Luke, what’s up?”

Your eyebrows smashed together, listening closely to the half of the conversation you were able to hear.

“Don’t bother, they’re with me. We’ll meet you there. Bye,” he hung up and turned to you with a slight frown.

“They have a case that they want us to look at. Barnes won’t approve it, we’re meeting at Emily’s.”

“A secret team meeting?” you stood up excitedly, unable to stop the grin spreading on your face, “let’s go.”

“Hey Spence?” you asked as he got into your car, a small detail of your conversation occurring to you.

“Hmm?” he clicked his seatbelt.

“You didn’t know I was coming over. The tea that you gave me… you made it for yourself, didn’t you?”

Spencer smiled bashfully, “you needed it more than I did.”

“The world doesn’t deserve you, Spencer Reid,” you sighed, putting the car in drive.

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[mrs-nate-humphrey]

you’ve talked a little bit about this wrt dan, but i’m curious: what are your favorite seasons/arcs for the main gg characters? (serena, blair, dan, nate, jenny, vanessa) cause everyone’s personalities tended to uh, shift a bit from season to season and storyline to storyline, and i’m wondering which eras of those characters were your favorite?

oh, so i sat on this question for a very long time, and spent a ton of time thinking over it. here we go! 

i loved the way serena was written in s1 and s2. she was so full of joy despite all the difficult things she’d endured, so bubbly and warm and... lively is ALWAYS the adjective that comes to mind for serena, despite how it’s a terrible pun. but yeah! she had an energy to her that was very childlike & genuine, and i loved that about her - despite the things she’d endured, she was so full of light (?? how do i describe this.) i know that serena’s arc gets notably more tragic s3 onwards, but i feel like the way she was written lost a bit of depth s3 onwards as well. she had a sharp wit, and a good sense of humour, she was playful and... most notably, she had this little giggle? that she literally NEVER does in the later seasons, which makes me sad?? she stopped laughing like a child at the age of, what, 19?? idk. in s1 & s2 serena had so many layers, and i feel like as the seasons went on they tried to, uh. keep only the surface layers? they didn’t really do justice to the character they started out with.

my answer for vanessa is actually the exact same, with slight modifications. vanessa’s energy in s1 and s2 was unparalleled. literally the best. i loved her and the way she was critical of everything and YET so ready to learn. compared to all these rich, privileged, white people... her presence was just SO good and so important to me, because the way she was so critical of the uber rich was something nobody else really was, and i think that perspective WAS valuable and should’ve remained, haha. idk what it was about s3, but i feel like they didn’t keep the crux of who vanessa was? it wasn’t a BAD vanessa season as much as an incomplete one. i felt they could’ve done so much more with a character like vanessa.... she’s so vibrant and full of life! and the way s3 was for her was very surface. and then in s4 they just demolished her character entirely. i’ve said it before, i’ll say it again: what jenny, juliet and vanessa did in 4x09 was TOTALLY out of character for vanessa. she would never, ever do that. and by the time s4 came around... someone else said this, i don’t remember who. but they said that vanessa was basically being used as a plot device more than as a character. notice how she’s always in the right place at the right time to overhear the right thing? it’s a travesty, because vanessa was just..... so significant to me. like her being there added so much value & even changed the tone of the show imo.

my blair feelings are very complicated. i think she’s fascinating, and i love leighton & her performance. i love book blair so much more than show blair, and idk why or how to explain it. i mentioned this in that post where i ranked the characters, but while watching blair in high school specifically i can’t EVER forget that she would probably hatecrime me, and even when she’s out of school she is still supremely racist at times. i actually liked blair best in s5 - and i know she was going thru ~tragic~ stuff (i think they dialled the tragedy too high actually, like, blair had TOO MUCH on her plate and from a storytelling point of view it was... ambitious, to say the least, to hope to bring all out of that out on tv) but like, keeping her tragedy aside. her capacity for kindness and care really shone thru while she was with dan, and i liked how the d/b relationship took her out of her comfort zone and her “but im a Waldorf!” bubble and let her, idk, be a person. i liked her in s4, too. i feel like blair is a really good, nuanced, fleshed out character as blair, and the way she clung to being a waldorf combined with her rich-white-girl privilege got kind of boring after a while because like. she’s not like louis? her character has so much depth. her character doesn’t need to be reduced to a title, because she’s SO much more than that.

i feel like i need to do a lot more rewatching when it comes to dan because i CANNOT be objective about him. he reminds me far too much of myself!!! down to his flaws and his mistakes and his issues –  i was a precocious little shit in high school at times in very similar ways to dan, i like to think i’ve grown out of that (& am perpetually making an effort TO grow out of falling into those patterns) & that’s what i want for dan, too. dan’s arc feels real to me, because a lot of it is my arc, too. feeling lonely, out of place & unaccepted in high school --> being a popular kid in college… that hits really close to home. s1 & s2 are important seasons to me because i’m extremely protective of awkward, trying-his-best high school dan (he can be awful at times, but he can be earnest and sincere, too!) i feel like s4 is actually the best dan season – took me a while to get here, but halfway thru my s2 rewatch that’s how i’m leaning. but dan’s arc was very interesting to me, and i wish they’d kept his heart. trying to retcon him as evil fell absolutely flat to me, like. who are you convincing! one of my friends and i were joking about how georgie blackmailed dan into pretending to be gossip girl (she obviously has dirt on him that nobody else does.) anyway. dan’s arc felt pretty true until the end of s4. i wasn’t a big fan of how he was written in s5, i felt like something had been taken away from his character, but i don’t know how to say it better. you’re right though, i have gone over this a lot! so i’m not going to break my head over it, ‘cause we’re already a thousand words in and i still have nate and jenny to go.

speaking of jenny, though: i think dan’s storylines REALLY needed more of a big brother arc. the way he was characterised, especially in s1, was very “i would kill a man for my baby sister” and i have NO idea where that went or why they got rid of it. (actually, i do have some idea. fucking chip wiskers apologism & elevation of chair over literally anything else. sigh)

okay, now speaking of jenny in terms of jenny. i liked her s1 arc, like, her trying to make friends with these people & trying to keep her morals and realising she can’t do both was interesting. i think that should’ve been that with her clashes with girls in constance, though. and afterwards, either nothing happens, or she transfers out of constance, etc. jenny’s s2 arc makes me sad – she was exploited and treated like dirt in so many ways :( the jenny/agnes was interesting in s2, though, and there’s no way to interpret it that ISN’T lesbian. i’ve always felt like jenny’s feelings for nate in s2 are very comphet. jenny’s s3 arc made me even sadder than her s2 arc- she was alienating all her friends one by one, making everyone hate her, and just…… spiralling. she really needed a better support system. her s4 arc made no sense. like. why did she come back in the city to fuck with serena like that? it didn’t feel right.

yeah, all that said… i feel like there are many super intriguing elements of jenny’s storylines and arcs, like, even within canon events if things had been executed differently, it could’ve been actually good/empowering. but the writers hated jenny. and this show was never a feminist show.

ah, so… nate. he started out as a flake in s1 & s2. that’s his whole thing. he doesn’t know who he wants to be / how to get what he wants / how to get where he wants. he takes people for granted. he isn’t dependable or reliable, he lets people down (most notably, blair & vanessa.) and he means well, sure! but his life is like amber and he’s trapped in it. he doesn’t follow his heart, he’s too busy trying to please the wrong people, etc etc. in s3 he’s suddenly so ready for commitment, which always breaks my heart because vanessa!!! but anyway. s3 has a shift in his character, possibly him getting dumped at prom and realising that high school is over and one thing that tethered him to his family (being a kid, being a high schooler, being a minor, whatever) –  one big thing that held him there is gone. so it makes sense that he starts trying to be his own person. i like s3 nate, and s4 nate. we see nate sort of gradually try and be a moral compass, and it’s interesting to me. when i write d/n fic something i really focus on is dan finding nate dependable, and i think that’s a value that builds in nate over time. nate of season 1 is not dependable, nope, no way. but nate of s4 seems like a decent friend to have. in s5 and s6 they more or less threw his entire arc to the wind and gave him so many shitty storylines (sage spence, wtf? nate would not do this. he’s been on the opposite end of this before, he would not carry the pattern forward, ffs.)

idk. this almost hit 1.7k, LMAO. i hope it made some amount of sense!

[tcm]

Noel Coward: Renaissance Man of Stage and Screen By Susan King

Noel Coward was known simply in England as “The Master.” And for good reason. Coward (1899-1973) was a true Renaissance man. He was an actor, playwright, composer, songwriter, producer and director. (Lin-Manuel Miranda is our contemporary version of Coward.) He even headlined the Desert Inn in Las Vegas in 1955. He knew he was a genius. Coward once described himself as an “enormously talented man, and there’s no use pretending that I’m not.”

He wrote such classic plays as Private Lives, Design for Living, Blithe Spirit, Cavalcade, The Vortex and Present Laughter. And, he took the stiff-upper lip of his characters. His comedies were filled with extravagant characters firing off delicious bon mots. His dialogue was spare and contemporary. Kenneth Tynan once said, “Coward was the Turkish bath in which English comedy slimmed.”

Needless to say, acting styles changed with Coward and he ushered in a new style of theater. Performers were no longer trapped in the 19th-century style of more declamatory acting. As a composer, the flamboyant Coward wrote such beloved songs as “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” and “I’ll See You Again.” Hollywood soon took notice of Coward the playwright. One of Coward’s biggest West End hits was 1931’s Cavalcade, a sweeping dramatic epic spanning 30 years in an upper-class family. The cast featured a staggering 200 actors, 22 sets including revolving stages and hydraulic platforms. Brad Rosenstein of the Museum of Performance & Design in San Francisco told the L.A Times in 2010 about the stage production: “In the earlier sections, it’s very realistic, almost like a movie, but as the story moves further and further into the 20th century, it becomes more and more surreal.”

Fox bought the film rights, shooting the stage production to use as a blueprint for its lavish 1933 film production starring Diana Wyngard and Clive Brook. “Designer William Cameron Menzies translated his stage montages into movie terms and that became the language of movie montages for the next 30 years,” said Rosenstein. CAVALCADE earned three Oscars including best film and director for Frank Lloyd. But truth be told, the film just hasn’t held up as well as other best film Oscar winners from that era. It’s handsome and well-acted but is a bit of a slog that screams prestige.

MGM’s “Boy Wonder” producer Irving Thalberg, who happened to be married to the studio’s top star Norma Shearer, bought the film rights to Private Lives for his wife. Rounding out the film adaptation’s cast was Robert Montgomery, Reginald Denny and Una Merkel. The farce, released in 1931, whirls around Amanda (Shearer) and Elyot (Montgomery), divorcees who reunite on their honeymoon with their new spouses and run off together.

Coward initially wasn’t thrilled that Shearer, who was best known for her heavily dramatic roles, was cast as Amanda. He didn’t think she was up to the comedic task. Shearer was unruffled: “I don’t care what he thinks.” Reviews were strong and so was the audience response. But truth be told, in the #MeToo climate, it’s hard to watch a film in which the leads scream, yell and throw things at each other and state that certain women should be struck regularly like gongs. Eleven years later, Shearer returned to Coward’s world in WE WERE DANCING (‘42) based on two short plays from the Master’s 1936 play Tonight at 8:30 She hadn’t made a film since 1940, so there was hope this comedy would revive her career. It didn’t.

Movie audiences finally got to see Coward the actor on screen in 1935. Not in a film based on one of his plays but an extraordinary morality piece, THE SCOUNDREL penned and directed by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur. Coward is remarkable as the title character, a New York publisher surrounded by sycophants and ruthless and callous in his treatment of people especially a lovely young poet (Julie Haydon). Coward’s Anthony Mallare destroys everything he touches including the poet and her lover (Stanley Ridges). When she learns that Mallare is taking a flight, she tells him that not only does she hope the plane crashes, she desires that as he dies, he knows no one will shed a tear for him. And when the plane crashes, he returns to the earthly world for a month to find someone who will mourn for him.

Mordaunt Hall wrote in his New York Times review: “As a suavely mannered portrait of decadence, The Scoundrel is a remarkably interesting motion picture. Mr. Coward is so perfectly attuned to the part we cannot help suspecting that he contributed to the dialogue. He is a master at delivering the barbed epithet. You have to hear him reciting a line like ‘It reeks with morality-stressing the r’s so as to make it exquisitely funny-to know how good he can be.”

Hecht and MacArthur won an Oscar for their story. Coward won his own special Oscar in 1943 for his stirring World War II drama IN WHICH WE SERVE (‘42) for “outstanding production achievement.” IN WHICH WE SERVE is far more than a propaganda piece to keep British morale up and the home fires burning. The film was inspired by Coward’s friend Lord Louis Mountbatten, who in 1941, lost his ship when it was sunk in the Battle of Crete. Coward stars, produced, penned the music and co-directed with a former editor by the name of David Lean. The story is generally told in flashback about the survivors of a Royal Navy ship that had been destroyed by German torpedoes. While recalling moments in their lives, they hang on to a small lifeboat waiting to be rescued.

Besides Coward, the film also stars Celia Johnson, John Mills and Richard Attenborough, who though uncredited in his film debut, is a stand-out as a sailor. A young Daniel Massey, who was the child of Raymond Massey, plays Coward’s son. Daniel was also Coward’s godson, and 26 years after the release of IN WHICH WE SERVE, he earned a supporting actor Oscar nomination as Coward in the Gertrude Lawrence bio-pic STAR! (‘68). IN WHICH WE SERVE was also nominated for the best film and screenplay Oscars. 

Coward and Lean next collaborated in 1944 with the moving THIS HAPPY BREED, another sweeping epic. Based on Coward’s hit play of the same name, THIS HAPPY BREED revolves around a middle-class family who move into a rented house in 1919 and it follows their lives until the declaration of World War II in 1939. Lean directed this classic solo and he gets fabulous performances from the cast which includes Celia Johnson, Robert Newton, Stanley Holloway and John Mills. Ronald Neame provided the stunning Technicolor cinematography. It’s funny, moving and poignant and you’ll find yourself shedding a few tears along the way. 

The year 1945 was a prolific one for producer Coward and director Lean. The duo went the Technicolor route with gorgeous results for the hit film version of Coward’s popular comedy-fantasy BLITHE SPIRIT. Rex Harrison portrays a writer who finds his world is turned upside-down when an eccentric medium (a perfect Margaret Rutherford) accidentally conjures up his dead first wife (Kay Hammond) who is jealous of his current spouse (Constance Cummings). The film lacks the spark of the stage play, but it’s still fun and the then cutting-edge special effects won the Oscar. 

And what can one say about BRIEF ENCOUNTER (‘45)? One of the most romantic films of all time and stars the delicate Johnson and the handsome Trevor Howard as married people who meet at a small railway station café and fall in love. Everything comes together perfectly in this masterpiece that was released in the U.S. in 1946. Based on Coward’s play Still Life, BRIEF ENCOUNTER is beautifully directed by Lean who really came into his own with this film. The performances of Johnson and Howard are pitch perfect and poignant; Robert Krasker supplied the atmospheric black-and-white cinematography and the use of Rachminoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 just adds to the romance. 

Lean won the grand prize for his direction at the Cannes Film Festival in 1946 and earned his first Oscar nomination for Best Director in addition to sharing a screenplay nomination with Anthony Havelock-Allan and Neame. Johnson was nominated for best actress which she lost to Olivia de Havilland for TO EACH HIS OWN (’46), but Johnson did win the New York Film Critics honor.

[throwawaythinking]

ERYS

“People love to just talk about me by name and say, "Oh, Jaden Smith this, Jaden Smith that." It’s time for a new awakening and a new consciousness.” - Jaden on his album SYRE, Complex Magazine November 2017

Jaden Christopher Syre Smith was the boy born into the shadow of his father’s fame. However he took his birth into the public eye as an opportunity, not a blessing. Jaden uses music to make a name for himself, fighting to bring his own identity out of the shadows of his famous father. Smith’s second album, ERYS, details Erys emerging from the death of his opposingly naive and Icarus-like self, Syre. Jaden depicts the rise, fall, and conflict of his autobiographical character Erys in four tracks; ‘i-drip-or-is’, ‘Again’, ‘Got It’, and ‘Fire Dept’; these four songs are the centrefold of the entire album, where Erys becomes Syre and Syre becomes Erys. Through Erys’ aggressive and angry flaunting of his perceived power, Jaden explores the recklessness of an overinflated ego. Erys becomes a successful drug dealer for the drug ‘Vision’ in Los Angeles, however the money and power eat away at him as he overestimates his ability to control ‘Vision’. This is assisted by the internal conflict between Erys and Syre, as Syre’s gentle and lost voice wanders throughout the tracks urging Erys to understand that his reckless behaviour won’t fix their problems. The introduction of internal conflict within ERYS expresses the integrity of Jaden’s inner conflicts during the process of finding his true identity, how his polar opposite identities had to converge at a point to create a completed state of being. This conflict is also used to address the taboo of adolescence in relation to drug culture. Jaden’s “strict, hard rap album” is a force to be reckoned with; “every song, back to back, high tempo, a lot of bass like just crazy.”

Without context, Jaden’s music is the amalgamation of the typical hip-hop genre; autotune, models, drugs, cars, power, fame. By manipulating these features, Jaden uses hip-hop to his advantage in creating an egotistical Erys. ‘i-drip-or-is’ boasts;

“LV head to toe, MSFTS necklace on

They be stressin' 'cause I'm reckless and I'm flexin' hard

Flexin' super hard, she a superstar

With the stupid car, and it's supercharged

Rolex, he went to Luther, got my jeweler far”,

luxury brand names flying throughout the first verse, the picture is set. Interestingly, Erys has already acknowledged his tendency to be reckless in the second line, yet the context provides evidence that he believes this to be a good quality. Erys’ ego continues on in the next track, ‘Again’, where Erys talks about his fame, money and power;

“Now the gang got no shit to do, they just a chatterbox

Now I wear a muzzle to the bank, because I laugh a lot

Now I tell the paparazzi "Turn the fucking cameras off"”

gangs are out of the drug business as a result of Erys’ ‘Vision’ drug, he laughs so loud at the bank that they muzzle him, and he is being plastered all over the press. Thanks to Erys’ drug dealing business, he has achieved all facets considered for an individual to be successful. As a result, Erys believes he has solved his problem with his love interest as depicted in ‘Got It’;

“She want that brand new designer, that Louis bandana

I told her I got it

She want that wrist with the water and Virgil the wallet

I told her I got it

She said her ex n**** wildin' and giving her problems

I told her I got it.”

But this is not the end of the story. As Erys parties on top of the world, ‘Vision’ gets the better of him, and we see his collapse in the fastest song on the album, ‘Fire Dept’. Erys’ monotonous voice screams through the electric guitar and banging drums;

“Go fire department, call my mom

Said, "Your son dancin' on fire, it's all night long"

I think I just decided, need a ride home

95 percent, I go hard, still killing the vibe though”,

as he realises he needs urgent help. The last line pierces through the ears. Erys is acknowledging that he is losing energy coming down from 100 percent to 95, yet refusing to believe his power is dying, claiming to be “still killing the vibe”. Ego has trapped him in a state of denial. As the song progresses, Erys’ drug-induced screeches become more aggressive and the tempo increases, confessing “I think I lost my car/I can't see straight, I'm fucked” pokes out through the madness of his nonsensical rambling about his surroundings. Erys has lost control.

Erys’ rise to the top pushed him to his limits, and he has fallen as fast as he has risen. This short lived spark of incomprehensible power perfectly demonstrates the double edged sword of the human ego. Erys’ ego pushed him to reach incredible milestones of not only material success, but likely impossible spiritual experiences created by his drug ‘Vision’. However ego becomes an external force with no intention to cooperate with human ability, and pushes Erys to OD on ‘Vision’, resulting in his reckless regression. Jaden has become a master swordsmith with his storytelling genius, with ego being his deadliest double edged sword sticking out of ERYS as a forever-imminent threat. The concept of ego courses like blood through the body of four explosive tracks. Ego is a perilous feat of humanity, and Erys is being destroyed by his.

If one listened intently to the tracks, they would notice a solitary voice wafting through ‘Again’ and ‘Fire Dept’. This is Syre, trapped in the dark by the emergence of Erys. Audibly, Syre is juxtaposed against Erys by tenderly singing instead of belligerently rapping. Additionally, Erys’s voice has been manipulated by autotune of various degrees, which distinguishes Jaden’s natural voice for Syre. Syre’s presence in Erys’ rise is the most pertinent feat of ERYS because this is what makes Erys human. Syre may have died, however the true parts of his soul remain, his real thoughts and feelings. In ‘Again’, the music fades and echoes. Syre emerges singing of the girl he loves and how he has become adrift; “Girl, we can paint such a pretty life…I admit I'm lost, can I hitch a ride?/Something bout your voice, like a lullaby.” Yet Erys interrupts Syre’s digression with frustration;

“Who the fuck turned this shit on, n****

I told you don't play no motherfucking wack shit

Big drip only”.

It is tacit Erys is fighting to silence his inner self, believing that his new behaviour is the only way to overcome his hardship as it has worked on his external image. This also explains why Erys feels the need to always drop big luxury brands in his lyrics (particularly in ‘i-drip-or-is’ and ‘Again’), because the clothing he wears on his body is a conspicuous external composition of his ability to succeed. As Syre mentioned their love interest, Erys comes back with ‘Got It’, as described earlier, being an entire song about how he can now provide for the girl that they once couldn’t help. This feeds into the psyche of Erys believing that he is better off living the life that he has now, because on paper it all makes sense. Syre makes another appearance after Erys goes off the deep end at the end of ‘Fire Dept’ and continues his digression about his love interest;

“Think about

Your life

Too much

I'm losin' light

I'm cruising on

I think a lot

I think about

You a lot

Too much

Do too much

I should be movin' on

(For sure).”

This time, Erys cannot fight Syre’s appearance, and the song ends without interruption.

The conflict between Syre and Erys is a trademark of adolescent growth. Jaden uses this conflict to show how he had suppressed his true emotions by using drugs and money as a bandaid on his emotional and spiritual wounds. This is a common trend in adolescence, to believe that material wealth or a chemical alteration of the brain is the only solution to fixing hard problems. Syre and Erys’ conflict cries at our unforgiving society for help, for the aid that adolescents so desperately need to deal with their struggles. It seems that the youth do not have the resources they need to navigate a life that is expected of them, and thus they cope with what is available - drug culture. Just as Erys learnt to push ‘Vision’ across the city of Los Angeles, young people dealing with problems beyond their control resort to drug taking or dealing to handle their problems, and it destroys them just as Erys has been destroyed - even if they know deep down that drugs won’t fix their problems.

Syre and Erys also represent Jaden’s state of being. The conflict between the two characters is a metaphorical picture of Jaden’s internal fight against himself in his journey to finding his true identity. It is no question that Jaden Smith would’ve lived perfectly fine under the care of his father, yet he chooses to make his own name. This makes him a striking individual due to the immense care he takes in creating his true identity. By creating conflict between his two characters, Jaden immortalizes his story in his own words. He immortalizes the importance of finding one’s true identity, and inspires the youth of his generation to do the same. Syre and Erys eventually go on to merge into one person; Jaden. The existence of this resolution is an integral part of urging young people to become their real selves, because it shows that having a true identity is real, and achievable.

Jaden’s second album ERYS supersedes expectations of a boy born into fame and privilege. Following the completion of the SYRE and ERYS projects, Jaden is showing the world that he is more than his family name. Often teenagers want the world to understand they are their own person with their own dreams, feelings, desires and struggles. Jaden, in my opinion, expressed this best.

[thebluenoteblog]

A First For Everything

Summary: Colton met your parents for the first time and it didn’t go as well as either of you had hoped. So naturally, you let him take out his frustrations on you.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Smut

“This… this has never happened before,” Colton said as he closed his front door behind you. He’d been completely silent the entire ride home from your parent’s house, simply staring out the windshield of his truck at the patch of road illuminated by his headlights. You were honestly relieved that he’d finally spoken, you were beginning to worry.

You followed him into the living room and placed your purse on the couch, dropping your coat beside it as you responded, “Colt, babe, it wasn’t that bad.”

His eyes widened, “Not that bad? (Y/N), they hated me!”

“Okay, so it could have gone better,” You said, staring at the floor and fiddling with a blanket still thrown over the back of the couch from when you’d watched a movie the day before.

He huffed and turned, stalking into the kitchen, “In twenty-six years I have never had a parent not like me. Never.” He said as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, “There’s an actual human baby named after me because his parents thought I would be a good role model. But of all the parents to decide to hate me, it’s yours.”

“They’ll come around,” you said, eyes following him as he grabbed a bottle opener from a drawer on the other side of the kitchen. “They don’t have a problem with you as a person, they have a problem with the logistics of the relationship.”

He opened the beer, took a drink and then set it down on the counter, “Do you want anything?” He asked. “I bought more of that wine you like.”

“Yeah, I could use some,” you responded, and he moved to grab a wine glass.

“I get it, okay? They’re trying to protect you.” He said, “But I don’t have to like the fact that they think they need to protect you from me.”

He placed the glass on the island in front of you and you lifted it, taking a sip. After swallowing you said, “It’s not that they’re just trying to protect me. Think about this from their perspective.”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t tell from the look on his face whether he was actually going to take what you said to heart or continue to be indignant over your parents’ clear distaste for the relationship. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“My family doesn’t know what to root for in this relationship. Either way they lose. Suppose this doesn’t work out. I get my heart broken and they have to pick up the pieces. Suppose this does work out. What happens if you get traded? What happens when you retire? Do you stay here or go back to Canada? My whole family is here. Would I just walk away?”

Colton took another drink of his beer. “They hate me on principal.”

“They don’t really hate you,” You respond. “But yes, something like that,”

He threw his hand in the air, the one that wasn’t holding his beer, and asked, “So what am I supposed to do to get them to like me?”

You smiled sadly, “I don’t know babe… become a St. Louis native and give up hockey? I don’t think there is anything you can do. Just keep being yourself and eventually they’ll come around.”

He grumbled under his breath and stared down at the island, leaning against the granite countertop but didn’t respond directly to your statement.

“Do you want to know something though?” You asked him before taking another sip of your wine.

He looked up from the countertop and focused his gaze on you, still looking very put out by the whole situation. “What?”

“This whole…” you waved a hand in his general direction, “whatever this is, is really doing it for me.”

His frown slowly turned into a smile. There was no way this conversation was over, but for now, you’d definitely managed to get his mind off your parents. He pushed up off the countertop and started around the island toward you, walking slowly and dragging his hand along the granite.

You took a couple of steps back. He was some interesting mix of sexy and intimidating that made you ache. Of course, your two steps back equaled one of his steps forward and he caught up to you with no difficultly.

Colton backed you up against the counter, trapping you between his arms and pressed his body against yours, “If you want me to help you with that, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

You nodded up at him, finding your voice after a moment and saying, “Why do you think you need to ask? You can just take me whenever you want. I’m always ready for you.”

His hands left the counter and gripped your hips, lifting you onto the island. He pushed your knees apart and stepped between them. “Is that right?” He asked, leaning his head down, his lips hovering just over yours, “Do you want me to just bend you over and fuck you whenever I want?”

You swallowed but didn’t answer him. You blinked your eyes open to meet his and he must have seen the sincere, yes please, written on your face because he hissed out a, “Fuck,” and pressed his lips to yours. This kiss was rough and demanding. His hand pressed to the back of your neck to hold you against him. His tongue slid between your lips and entered your mouth.

He wrapped his free arm around your hips and pulled you forward until you were pressed fully against him. Your hands were trapped against his chest and you wiggled them free, so you could touch him. You threaded your fingers through his hair and splayed a hand over his shoulder. He gripped your lip between his teeth and tugged as he pulled away from you and you gave him a small sound of approval.

His hands gripped the hem of your shirt and before you had even registered what was happening he was pushing it up over your breasts. You lifted your arms and he pulled it over your head. He reached a hand behind your back and unclasped your bra and it joined your shirt on the floor a second later.

He dropped his head to your breast and pulled a nipple into your mouth. He swirled his tongue around the peak as he took your other breast into his hand and teased your nipple with his thumb. You held his head against your chest as quiet sounds left your mouth, spurring him on. He moved off of your nipple to the skin just above and sucked a large mark then pulled back and ran the pad of his thumb over it as he watched it darken.

He ducked his head to your other breast and repeated the same process, swirling his tongue around your nipple and then abandoning it. This time he moved between your breast and sucked a mark. Again, he pulled back and ran his thumb over it as he stared.

He looked up at you to find you already staring intently at him. “What?” He asked, voice rough.

You shook your head, “Just wondering when you’re going to fuck me.”

“Fuck, baby girl.” He said, pushing himself against your throbbing core and you could feel just how hard he was. “You have no idea how badly I want to.”

“So, do it,” you said, though it came out as more of a whine. You pressed your naked chest against his fully clothed form and reached your hands up, tugging at his hair and he chuckled, wrapping his hands around your wrists and pulling your hands out of his hair. He chuckled.

“I always take care of you first,” he said quietly in your ear, “I’m not going to stop now.”

You whimpered and pushed yourself against him, wanting something, anything. He pushed you away and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, “Colton,” you said, “please-,”

“Lay down,” he said as he pushed you back. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough for you to get the point that you needed to shut up and listen. You wiggled your hips against the counter to straighten yourself out and then laid flat against the cool surface. The cold granite contrasting perfectly with your heated skin.

He placed his hand over your throat, then trailed it over your breast and down your hips until he arrived at the waistband of your jeans. He had them off of you and on the floor a moment later. “No panties?” He asked as he got down on his knees, kissing the inside of your knee and you clenched. Whether it was his words or anticipation, you didn’t know. “We go to eat dinner with your parents and you don’t wear panties?”

You said some nonsense and felt him smile as he moved his lips closer to you. He nibbled your inner thigh and then pressed his tongue over the area. When he finally reached where you needed him to be, he paused, let his breath wash over you for a second, then two, then he moved to the inside of your other knee.

“Colton,” You groaned, annoyed and frustrated.

He chuckled, “See, I knew you wanted this.”

You pushed yourself toward him and he brought a large hand up to rest on your waist, holding you in place. You groaned, “I’m sorry. Please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.”

He grinned against the inside of your thigh and you lifted your head up off the counter to look at him when he glanced up at you, “See,” he asked, “All you had to do was ask.”

He moved his mouth to where you wanted him and though you wanted to keep watching him, you couldn’t hold your head up. You managed to set it back on the island without injuring yourself.

He licked from your entrance to your clit, then dropped back down and shoved his tongue inside of you, groaning and gripping your thighs with both hands. He trailed his tongue back up to your clit and swirled it, sucking and flicking as you pushed against his face. Finally, he brought an arm back across your hips and pinned you to the counter.

You moaned loudly, trapped under his arm, he was fully in control. Something you both enjoyed from time to time. You were so close that it was a struggle for him to hold you still and still focus on what he was doing, but he was enjoying every second of it. He slid two fingers from his free hand inside of you and picked up the pace with his tongue.

It took two strokes of your g-spot for you to fall over the edge. You came hard, searching for something to grab on to in order to ground yourself. You settled on his hair and he groaned as he stroked and licked you through your orgasm.

As soon as you were finished, he stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. You could see his face, wet and smeared with you. That was all you were focused on as he stepped out of his pants and grabbed your hips, pulling you forward just a little more on the island.

“You ready for me to fuck you now?” He asked, his hand tightening on your hip like he was struggling to wait for your answer.

You smiled softly at the ceiling. Colton. Sweet Colton. Who forced you to let him eat you out while you were begging for his cock because he wanted to know that you were satisfied but still felt the need to ask before he would fuck you after. “Why do you always think that you have to ask?” You asked him again.

Seeming to remember the conversation from earlier, his eyes locked on your face, then dropped to your pussy and he was pushing himself inside you. He pushed all the way in and then paused while he gripped your leg and put it on his shoulder. He pressed the other flat against the countertop.

You always felt a little breathless when Colton first entered you, and it didn’t get any better the longer he was inside. He started to move, his thrusts began slow, but quickly picked up speed. You couldn’t reach anything to grip onto and the countertop didn’t make a conductive surface for that, so you dug the heels of your hands into your eyes and gripped your hair.

“No,” Colton said, “No, don’t do that,” he grunted, releasing his firm grip on your legs and pulling your hands away from your face. He locked his fingers with yours and held them down by your sides. “I want to see all those pretty faces you make.”

You made a strangled sound and clenched around him, nearing your second high. He released one of your hands and reached between you, pressing his fingers to your clit. “Come on baby. Cum for me.”

Your mouth fell open and you squeezed your eyes shut as you fell over the edge for the second time that night. He watched every expression intently as you squeezed his cock. When you were done, and you had relaxed back against the counter, eyes falling back open to look up at him all fucked out, he sped up his thrust. With one hand, he reached up to cup your breast with the other he left your fingers threaded.

Eventually, you felt his thrusts lose rhythm, his breath grow shallow, and his grip on you subconsciously tighten. Then he was filling you. He let out one quiet moan and his face flushed. When he was done, he sighed and moved his hand from your breast. He pulled out of you and placed an arm under your knees, slid you towards him then placed a hand under your back and lifted you off the counter.

You laid a sleepy head on his chest. “Where are we going?” You asked.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “The shower.”

You hummed, “That’s fine, but can I spoil you later?”

He chuckled, “No guarantees I’ll keep my mouth off of you, but you can try.”

[justauthoring]

I Might’ve Misjudged... [L.T.]

Request: Hii, can I ask for a Louis’ fuck boy imagine where the reader is Harry’s twin and has a crush on Louis but he doesn’t see her like that because he’s know her since she was like 15 until something changes his mind, I’ll let your creativity run so it’s a surprise for me as well 😊 Thank you, I love your writing 💖

Pairing: Louis Tomlinson x Reader Word Count: 1,349 Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Notes: There is not enough Louis imagines. I’ve said it once. I’ll say it again. I’ll say it for eternity because it is TRUE.

Louis was sure his opinion of you would never change.

You were Harry’s younger sister. You were cute, he’d admit to that. He’d be blind if he didn’t see that you were certainly attractive. But having been Harry’s friend for years now and Louis being three years older then you, Louis’ known you since you were like ten.

Ten. 

And he couldn’t just forget that. 

Yeah, you were fun to talk to. And honestly, Louis sometimes preferred your company over his douche of a best friend.  You were easy to talk to too, and he could hold a conversation without it feeling awkward or strained; but Louis was sure that was just because he’s known you for so long. 

When Harry, with some reluctance mind you, had told him that his sister had a crush on him, Louis wasn’t really sure what to do. He’d refused to go over to Harry’s house for a while, knowing you’d be there and not knowing how to face you now knowing your secret and the fact that he most certainly did not reciprocate your feelings. If anything, he thought of you as a younger sister and when Harry told him, he just wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore.

But then Harry had berated him on being an idiot and Louis realized that yes, he in fact was being an idiot. 

It was awkward, even if you never left your room.

However, Louis felt guilty. The whole situation was one big awkward mess, and it was all because of the prick sitting next to him. Before, you’d usually come and hang with him and Harry if they were doing anything that interested you; like watching a movie or something like that. But, because of all this, you were locked securely in your room, hidden from embarrassment and Louis felt bad.

Not to mention, you had the best choice in movies, and because you weren’t there, Harry got to choose. Louis hated when Harry chose the movies.

Glancing over his shoulder one last time, in the direction of the staircase and thus, your bedroom, Louis makes his decision. “Oi,” he calls to Harry, lightly tapping him on the shoulder. “I’m just gonna run to the loo.”

Harry hums, not really listening to Louis as he’s far too engrossed in whatever romantic-comedy he’d chosen that time. Louis will never understand why his friend enjoys them so much.

He races up the stairs before he loses the nerve to face you and runs past the bathroom door, over to your bedroom door without a moments of hesitation. However, he comes to a sharp stop in front of your door, his breath halting. He pauses a moment, unsure. What was he even going to say? Did you even know he knew?

You must; why else would you have locked yourself up in your bedroom?

He’d just be casual. Tell you, yeah, he might not like you like that but you were still cool and he needed you to save him from whatever terrible movie Harry was forcing him to watch and...

and yeah. That worked. That sounded... solid.

Louis raises his hand to knock, but hesitates when he hears a soft whimper. It causes his brows to furrow and his chest tightens in worry, forgoing knocking and simply pushing your door open.

He’s never regretted knocking so much before in his life.

“Louis!”

“Jesus! Oh, fuck!” 

He stumbles back, instantly moving to cover his eyes and ends up bumping into the edge of the door. It knocks it close by force of it and Louis suddenly feels trapped, turning his back to you as you scramble to cover yourself, pulling your sheets up to your hips as your face burns, absolute mortified.

“I’m... I’m so sorry,” Louis stammers, his own cheeks warming as he stumbles on his feet, not sure what to do.

“What the hell!” You call out, voice shrieking.

“Shh!” Louis insists, still not turning to face you. “Your brother could hear!”

“At least he knocks!”

“I...” Louis’ face falls. How did he not register that whimper as that type of moan? He’s surely heard it enough times to know. And it could’ve saved him a whole lot of embarrassment. “I’m sorry...”

There’s a moment of pause and Louis faintly hears you shifting on your bed, before you cough awkwardly and call out; “it’s... it’s fine, you know. You can look.”

Louis does, with some reluctance, but God, does he wish he hadn’t.

You... somehow, he’s not sure, just seem to appear to him entirely differently. It’s as if you have a completely different glow to you. Louis can’t help but trace his eyes along your figure, at least what he can see of it. From your slightly messed hair that somehow still looks good, to the faint, warm red tint to your cheeks, to the baggy t-shirt that Louis had let you borrow a few months back when...

Wait, his t-shirt?

Louis’ eyes widen. “Were... Were you thinking of me?”

Your eyes widen, shoulders turning sharp as your face turns beet red once more. Your eyes glance down, to your lap and you’re careful not to look up at Louis. 

You don’t respond.

Louis’ eyes once again trail, noticing the way his shirt, much too big for you, hangs off your right shoulder slightly. Your legs are covered by your sheets but Louis knows you’ve got nothing but panties on underneath and suddenly, Louis realized what the hell had he been thinking?

Sister? How had he ever thought he considered you as a sister?

There was just... no way. No way in hell he thought that and Louis realizes, as if it’s an epiphany, that he’d only convinced himself of the fact to save himself from the awkward situation that would follow him by admitting that he liked his best mates younger sister. But Louis couldn’t ignore it anymore, and certainly not when you looked like that.

He takes a step forward, before his mind even properly registers that he is. Then, he takes another and another until he’s crawling onto your bed to hover over you. You glance up at him nervously through your eyelashes, lost as you whisper shakily; “Louis?”

His hand rises, slowly, carefully, delicately tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before letting his fingers softly trail across the skin of your cheek. He notices the way your shiver in response to touch and it makes him smile faintly. 

“Were you thinking of me?”

He repeats the same question, but this time, you answer. It’s faint, and if he hadn’t been so close, Louis definitely wouldn’t have heard you. But, he does, and he mentally curses himself for waiting this long to do anything as you whisper out a; “yes.”

His eyes fall shut as he hums in contentment. And then, he’s leaning forward, eyes still fluttered shut as your own widen and you jerk your head back in surprise when his lips near your own.

“Louis?”

“Shh,” he soothes gently, moving his hand to your waist and caressing it gently. He continues to lean forward, and this time you don’t pull back, letting his lips meet your own.

It’s everything you’d imagined it to be.

And it’s everything he’s ever earned for, and Louis hates himself for ignoring his feelings for so long when it felt this good to kiss you.

However the moment doesn’t last long.

“Louis?” Harry’s voice filters into your room, causing Louis to pull back as you stare up at him with wide, panicked eyes. “Did you die on the toilet or something, mate?”

Your hand reaches for his instinctively, nervous, but Louis just grins down at you. “Come on,” he coaxes lightly, moving off the bed with your hand in his. 

“B-But, my brother--”

“We’ll have to tell him eventually, yeah?”

Your brows furrow; “tell him... what, exactly?”

“Tell him about us,” he shrugs.

His words are simple, yeah. But, they mean the world to you in that moment. Because they’re everything you’ve been waiting for so long to hear

-

Let me know what you thought?

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

When Did You Fall Out Of Love?

It was crowded.

The train was crowded and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. People coming from different places and going to different directions. The continuous stops that make the small train seem less crowded, until more people get on and it’s the same as before or maybe even more.

Regardless, I couldn’t breathe.

As more people went and go, I felt a presence staring at me. And that presence was right across from me.

He was wearing sunglasses, even though it was gloomy outside in this London weather, and a baker boy hat, that I have to admit, looks adorable. Perhaps I shall get one myself.

I’m not a shy person. Some may say I’m overly confident, but I don’t agree. I am confident, but I’m not stuck up or in love with myself. I’ve learned to accept my flaws and accept that I can’t change them. I’ve learned to love those flaws and realize that it’s a part of me that will never change. And that’s what makes me, me.

I don’t avoid confrontation. I know how to not make things awkward when confronting someone, and I make sure to have my facts right. Without confrontation, people don’t solve problems. It’s all part of life and I love solving problems. Some people find me rude for some reason.

So, I say something to the man who’s staring at me creepily.

“May I ask what caught your attention that has you staring at me like crazy?” I ask firmly.

The man seems shocked that I actually said something. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he closes it.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just that, uhm,” he stutters, and I raise my eyebrows for him to continue. He takes off his sunglasses, “it’s just that I think you’re very pretty.”

Scratch that. I’m shy when it comes from gorgeous men that compliment me.

“O-oh, thank you,” I blush. He smiles and nods.

The rest of the train ride was getting to know each other. Luckily I couldn’t stop the conversation in the middle since my stop was practically the last stop of the day.

I’ve come to find out that the man staring at me is named Harry Edward Styles. He’s from Holmes Chapel in Cheshire (which isn’t that far from where I’m from, Doncaster).

“My best mate is from Doncaster!” He said excitedly.

“Really? What’s his name? I might know him.”

“Louis Tomlinson.”

“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

His eyes widen a bit and I found that weird.

He also used to work in a bakery before his job right now.

“So you know how to bake?” I question.

“I can make a thing or two,” he smugs.

“Interesting. Might have to take you up on that.”

His mum is named Anne and his sister is named Gemma.

“Yeah, they’re the best. I grew up with just them two around and they’re the best influence I could possibly have in my life.”

His eyes light up as he talks about the most important women in his life. It’s admirable, the way he talks about them.

He was in a band in high school.

“The White Eskimos?”

“That’s the one.”

“Might have to listen to your tape.”

“I’ll be sure to send one out to you.”

I learned that he also moved to London when he was sixteen because of his job.

“What kind of job are you doing that even made you move to London at sixteen?!” I was completely shocked, there was no way my mother would let me move out that young.

Harry chuckled, “well, I sing and perform.” I felt like there was more to it so I stayed silent, hopefully encouraging him to say more. But it seemed like he was waiting for me to say something. “I-I’m in a band, we’re called One Direction.”

Harry seemed like he was completely shocked that I didn’t know who he was or who they were.

“Wow, that must be crazy. Do you perform at little venues? Or bars? I would love to go to one.”

He chuckles nervously, “erm, not really. I wouldn’t say little venues per say. Perhaps bigger places.”

“I’m sorry, but I probably seem so stupid right now as I don’t know who you are. But how big are we talking about?”

He cleared his throat, he seemed nervous.

“Wembley Stadium, a couple times.”

I almost choked, “are you fucking joking?” He shakes his head. “That’s insane!

You must be a pretty big person then!”

He smiles a little, “to each their own.”

“I’d have a listen when I get home because that’s just-“

“This is the last stop of the day, please exit the train and have a lovely day.” The overhead intercom through the speaker is loud and that means that our conversation was over.

We both exit the train quietly and make it out of the tunnel and onto the street.

“Well, I’m this way.” I point behind me.

“I’m this way,” he points behind him, the opposite way of me.

“It was really great talking to you, Harry.” I give him a small smile.

“You as well, love,” he smiles back.

I’m not sure what to do. Do I just walk away now? Say goodbye one more time? I step forward and open my arms, reaching in for a hug. Harry seemed to get the memo and quickly leans in, reciprocating the hug.

The hug was everything I wanted. He’s a very good hugger. Just enough squeeze and not lazy. He runs his hand up and down my back, and I feel like my knees can lock in and I can just melt. There’s nothing else that can top this hug, and I hope he feels the same way.

We eventually let go and pull away, sadly.

“I hope to see you very soon,” he says.

“I hope so too.”

He gives me one last smile and starts backing up and turning around to walk away. I do the same and walk home to my flat.

You think back to the memory that happened nearly four years ago. You smile back to when you and Harry first met and the memory will forever be burned into your head, as it was one of the best days of your life.

After that day, it was four months before you saw each other again. He saw you at a record store and he completely stood still, shocked to see you after what seemed like an eternity.

Again, you felt a presence staring at you, so you turned your head and saw him. It was him. The same guy who was looking at you four months ago and the same guy who was still looking at you four months later.

You slowly walk over to him and he meets you in the middle.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You’re smiling like crazy, thinking that you weren’t going to see him ever again, but here you are.

“I have to admit, the week after I met you, I went back to the train station, got on at the same station that I did, and waited for you to show up until the very last stop, but you didn’t show.”

Your heart was bursting, to say the least.

“I actually went back to Doncaster for around three months after that day. I decided I needed to see family and friends, so I stayed there and just kind of took that time to reflect.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re back now.”

“I’m back,” you smile at him.

Its been hard. Its been hard waking up every morning to an empty bed. Every morning seemed to get harder and harder. You miss the conversations you had together. The conversations that’ll keep you both up at night and wake you both up first thing in the morning. The mornings that distracted you both from doing stuff outside the bedroom. Those were you favorite mornings.

Now, you just wake up to an empty bed, and it seemed like the bed is getting bigger and bigger, making it seem like your loneliness is expanding. But you won’t tell him that.

You were confident. Until a year ago. Harry’s schedule got busier and more hectic. With filming and promo for Dunkirk, his first solo album, and touring, his life kept going up and his dreams started to come true. But yours seemed like it was falling apart.

You wanted him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay. Because when he would say it, everything would actually be fine and things would work out perfectly. But he’s barely home for him to hold you and kiss you.

Every time you talked to him on the phone, you wanted to tell him everything that’s been going on in your mind. Everything that you bottled up, you wanted to unleash it. But you couldn’t. You didn’t want him worrying about you. He’s getting everything he wanted in his life, and you felt as if your problems would ruin his mood. Because all you want is for him to continuously be happy with that gorgeous smile on his face.

You struggled with your emotions and you were never like this before. Your mind is like a bottle. Each thought is so trapped inside that you feel as if your mind is about to combust because of the pressure. You want to talk…but you can’t.

It’s been hard.

Harry is suppose to be home for a bit, so he said on the phone. He has a week off before he flies to the U.S, so he should be home by the afternoon. You’re excited to see him. A bit nervous, but more excited. You talk to him on the phone about twice a week for about thirty minutes or an hour or until he has to hang up. But it’s usually never more than an hour. He’ll send some texts here and there throughout the week, but it’s the basic ‘goodmorning’, ‘goodnight’, or ‘what are you up to?’ and you feel like he’s doing it for the sake of conversation and the fact that it doesn’t make him seem like a bad boyfriend.

Yes, you feel him being distant towards you and you want to figure out why. You haven’t asked him because you’re nervous to, but it may be the fact that he’s touring (obviously, with time zones, it fucks everything up) and he genuinely doesn’t have time to talk. And you get it, he’s tired after the shows or he’d rather celebrate another successful show in a foreign city. But a call more than thirty minutes would be great.

You decide to clean the whole house, light up a candle, and cook a full meal for when he comes home.

You have music on as you sauté up a stir fry, one of Harry’s favorites. You sway your hips a little as your stir up the food vegetables that are sizzling on the stove, until you hear your phone buzz a bunch of times.

You see that it’s from your friend, attached with the massages are screenshots from various articles.

Have you seen these? Isn’t he suppose to be home today? Attachment: 2 images

You feel your heart already dropping as your hands shake to click on the article. Harry Styles out and about in London with stunning actress and looking good doing it! Singer and actor took some time off to go home before he starts the American leg of his 2018 World Tour. Harry was seen with actress getting lunch at Nando’s. Sources have said that Harry and recent girlfriend have split up since she was no where to be seen during his tour. Stick around for more updates to come!

Below the article were pictures of Harry and some beautiful woman at the restaurant. His arms on the table as he watches and listens to her talk. His smile all the way up to his ears and you can’t help but admire his million dollar smile.

But it hurt. It definitely killed you.

You haven’t seen him smile like that in what seems like forever. His calls and text don’t seem enthusiastic or excited to talk to you. And that hurt. Some other woman made him smile like that. She gets to see him smile for her like that. And that hurt.

And you decided not to go on tour with him because of school. You’re getting your masters degree in literature and that contained many essays and reading. You couldn’t drop everything you achieved to watch him on stage, no matter how many times you considered doing so. But he understood, he encouraged you to finish all the way through and you appreciated his understanding.

You feel a few tears stream down your face and you lift your hand up to wipe them. You put your phone down and turn off the stove. You put the food in a container and clean up. You couldn’t think about this anymore.

Harry was the one who said himself to not believe any of the articles that were written about him. And you didn’t. You didn’t believe them for four years and that saved the trouble and energy of arguing. Each article that was written about him with women, you didn’t believe any of them. You didn’t jump into conclusions and you didn’t make a fuss about them, because you trusted him. You trust him so much that no matter how much the pictures and words that correlated to Harry and a new girl hurts you, you didn’t make a big deal out of it. He was the first to say that you shouldn’t trust the media. So you didn’t.

But it still hurts.

A lot.

At 2 o’clock, you decide to pick up your phone and text him.

Hi, what time are you coming home?

You put your phone down and wait for it to buzz. So you decide to pull out your laptop and textbooks. Might as well study while waiting for him. A few hours passed and he still hasn’t shown up. You pick up your phone and check the times of the messages you sent.

Me: Hi, know what time you’ll be home? 3:05 p.m

Me: Are you on your way home? 4:00 p.m

Me: I made dinner, hope you haven’t eaten yet.          6:00 p.m

Me: Are you coming home?                                              7:00 p.m

Me: I’m heading to bed, wake me up when you come home. Would love to see you  11:00 p.m          

You were tired. You waited eight hours for him to come home and the studying definitely put your mind to ease.

You lay in your extremely large bed, tossing and turning. You glance at the clock and see the red numbers reading that it’s 2:23 a.m and there was no sign of Harry next to you. You sigh, until you hear the front door open. Your heart beating fast as you think it may be an intruder, but you hear Harry’s boots click against the flooring.

You decide if you should run out downstairs to see him, but you hear him walking up already and opening the bedroom door. You stay in your position: on your side with the covers up to your neck. Harry can’t see that you’re still awake. You don’t know why you aren’t moving to get up and attack him with kisses, perhaps your nervous for some reason.

Harry makes his way into the bathroom and you decide to sit up and wait for him.

You contemplate what to say to him. You’re not sure why it’s different this time round, but obviously something has changed, way before the recent article that was released.

Once the bathroom door swings open, Harry was about to walk out, but stop immediately, surprised you’re awake.

“Oh, why are you up?”

‘Hi, I missed you’, to you too.

“You told me you were coming home today. I texted you,” you said softly.

“Yeah, I was suppose to, but some of the lads wanted to go out for drinks and my phone was off,” he says as he goes into the walk in closet.

“The lads as in?”

“Lads from the band and tour crew.” You’re completely shocked.

“Harry, I haven’t seen you in at least three months and you see them every single day. Why do you need to hang out with them even more when you said you would be home?”

“Because I fucking wanted to? They’re my friends and I wanted to go out for a drink with them.”

“Yeah, but the purpose of taking a week off was to be at home and not think about anything else.”

“Would you back the fuck off? If I want to go out, then I’ll go out. I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just trying to understand your logic.” He doesn’t say anything, but scoff. Tears begin to well up in my eyes as he gets in the covers on the bed. He laid on his side, his back facing me.

“I-I just missed you, is all.” You didn’t hear him say anything, but sigh deeply.

“Missed you too,” he mumbled into the pillow. You took a deep breath and laid back down.

“I love you,” you said softly, but you know he heard you loud and clear. But he doesn’t say anything back and your heart starts to break.

You’re waken by your right arm cramping up from laying on it the entire night. You glance at the clock, reading that it’s 7:00 a.m. You’re also waken by Harry rummaging through his things.

“Harry? What are you doing? Get back in bed,” you said tiredly as you prop your elbow to lean on it.

He ignores you and continues going inside the closet and back out. You adjust your eyes and sit up fully, seeing that he’s packing. Not unpacking, but packing. He’s putting more clothes in his suitcase, if not all. And that’s what fully awakes you. It’s like all the tiredness from the previous night and early morning vanished.

“W-Why are you packing? What are you doing?” You’re panicking as he doesn’t say anything to you. You get out of bed and look inside the closet, most of his clothes are off the hangers and in the suitcase.

“W-Wait, stop. Just stop. Hold on. Why are you packing?” He hears the shakiness in your voice and he feels bad, so he stops for a second to turn around and look at you.

Your eyes are glossy, “what’s going on?”

He sighs deeply before he says, “I’m leaving.”

“What? Why? Where are you going? You have a whole week!” You feel tears at the corner of your eye, threatening to fall down.

“I just need to get out of here. I can’t stay here any longer.”

“But you just got home! Why are you leaving already?!” Tears are now streaming down your face and there’s no way that you can stop it.

“I told you I can’t stay here any longer,” he repeats.

“Is it me? That’s why you’re leaving? I didn’t mean to nag when you got home, I just missed you so much,” you approach him, putting your hands on his shoulders.

“Please, why are you leaving me?” Harry isn’t looking at you. He looks straight ahead as you put your hands on his cheeks, trying to pull them down so he can look at you and you could kiss him, but he wouldn’t bug.

He’s about to say something, but his ringtone is loud on his dresser. He makes a move to get it, but you beat him to it. You don’t want to and you never were one of those girlfriends who looked at their boyfriend’s phone, but you couldn’t help it. The caller id was a woman’s name. One that you recognized from one of the articles.

He watches you as you glance down and looks up at him with sad eyes. “Here,” you say as you hand his phone to him.

You watch him as he looks down at it, realizing who’s calling, and answers it, “hello? Yeah… I know… I’m almost done… just-just wait for me. Bye.” ‘So he is leaving me.’ You think.

You don’t say anything as he hangs up and just looks at you. You can tell he wants you to say something, but what’s there to say?

“I gotta go.”

“So I heard.”

“Look-“

“Are you cheating on me?” You had to ask.

“What?” He questions, not sure if he heard you right.

“You heard me.”

“I-I can’t believe you would think that I would cheat on you,” he says, “but if you need to know, no, I did not cheat on you and I never had.”

You don’t say anything as you watch him zip up his suitcase. He heads for the door before he turns arounds to get a look at you.

“Tell me when,” you say.

“What?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“Tell me, when did you fall out of love with me?” Your eyes are practically a waterfall.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say when or how or why. He doesn’t even say that he never fell out of love. He just stayed quiet.

“You know, it hurts. Yeah, cheating is horrible and wrong, but knowing that you fell out of love with me and I couldn’t do anything about it? That hurts. A lot. And the fact you’re not even denying it, hurts even more.” You pause. “And if you walk out that door, we’re done.”

He still stays silent as he looks down with guilt. You both hear a honk outside of the door that he is about to walk through. He is about to leave the one place that made you feel safe when he was with you. And he is about to walk out of your life.

The day you met him, you couldn’t breathe. There were so many people on that train, stepping in and out. And you couldn’t breathe. It was crowded. It was so crowded you thought about walking home from five stops away, but you didn’t. You didn’t and it was possibly the best decision you made because you met Harry. And once you started taking to him, it was like the world around you disappeared, and you slowly caught your breath. Being with him for four years, you felt like you were in the wilderness that had crisp air. The one that was so fresh and satisfying.

But now you couldn’t breath again.

You walk towards the stairs, not bearing to see him step on your heart and leave it hopelessly.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

Part two

let me know if you want a part 2 and if you want to be tagged!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

pillows and thunderstorms

Summary: A horrible thunderstorm is a perfect opportunity for another date, but Clementine had expected candlelight, or maybe some soft music, but this... is neither of those things. She’s definitely not complaining, though. 

I had a really bad day so here’s a short little clouis thing that I wrote on my lunch break to calm myself down.

Read on AO3 

---

The inky sky lit in a quick flash, breaking the blanket of darkness thrown over the school and surrounding woods mere moments before a mutter of thunder vibrates through the earth. The wind carries with it heavy, cold droplets and torn leaves from the trees, all beating down over the roof and echoing through the halls.

They knew this storm would come. The tempestuous clouds daunting above them at dinner time, the sudden increase of the whistling wind, and that distinct scent of cool, metallic earth were more than enough signs to get them moving; closing the windows, moving the tables under shelter, covering the woodpile, securing the gates.

This storm, so booming and chaotic, left a damper on the morale among the group that evening, each dispersing throughout the school.

Clementine, staring out the front windows at the thick, gray curtain of rain with a somber frown, breathes out a low, heavy sigh. Her breath fogs over the glass where she absently draws a little smiley face.

Thunderstorm or not, the day itself hadn’t been great.

In fact, she’d dare say it’d been shitty.

Real shitty.

“Hey.”

Louis’ warm hands grip her upper arms as he leans to peer over her shoulder. She presses back into him, letting out another sigh at the comfort his presence always provided.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

Clementine can feel his stare but keeps her eyes peered forward, forcing interest in the patterns and crossed paths of the droplets slipping over the glass.

“Yeah.”

Louis reaches over and adds a tongue to the smiley face she previously traced, saying, “AJ’s having a sleepover with Tenn and Willy tonight.”

She turns to glance up at him, brows raised.

Ever since they first came to Ericson’s, she and AJ always slept in the same room no matter what, especially in the beginning and right after they took down the delta. Some nights he’d go out on patrol, but AJ still came back to flop down on his bed to sleep.  

The thought of him wanting to sleep somewhere else never occurred to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he, uh-” Louis frowns, “-Tenn doesn’t do too good with storms that’re bad like this. AJ thought he and Willy could help distract him from it, y’know?”

Clementine’s expression softens into a small grin.

Louis lets her go, moving to lean himself against the window pane with a mischievous grin adorning his full lips. She eyes him, brow perked curiously at the way he tugs on the flaps of his jacket and cocks his head at her.

“What?”

“Since the child’s out for the night, I planned a little surprise for you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep! Think of it like-” his smirk softens, becoming almost timid, “-a date, if you will.”

“A date, huh?” she smiles. “Haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“I think we’re due.”

She nods, reaching out to grab his hand, running her thumb over a scab on his knuckles, a small injury he acquired from hunting.

“A date does sound really nice.”

“I’ll see you up there, then?”

“Of course. I’ll be up in a minute.”

---

She had expected romantic candlelight, or perhaps ever a slow song from the gramophone to play for them to dance to.

But, this… is neither of those things.

Off-white sheets spread across from on bunk bed to the other, draping over the high stacks of pillows and covering more than half of the room. A soft glow repressed through the sheets reveals Louis’ silhouette within the extravagant pillow fort.

His fingers slip through the opening of the sheets as he peeks out at her with a grin.  

“What have you done to our room?”

“Proving that we can, in fact, keep my entire collection in here.”

She laughs at that, approaching the pillow fort with crossed arms. “Is that right? Not very practical.”

“Maybe so, but you’ll change your mind once you’re inside.” He pushes the sheet open further, letting the yellow of the flashlight bleed out onto the wooden floors. “Won’t you join me?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I have pretzels,” he offers in a tempting, sing-song voice, reaching behind to shake the wrinkly bag.

“Are they stale?”

“Oh, yeah. They taste like chunks of cardboard.”

Clementine smirks, shrugging off her jacket and taking off her hat, tossing them by the closet doors to join his coat. 

“Just how I like ‘em.”

The pillows are soft and clean, and for a split second, she wonders where he found the time to bring all those pillowcases to the river to wash. They get comfortable, sitting close enough for their knees to touch with the flashlight pointing up between them.

A particularly hard roar of thunder vibrates through the earth, but instead of bringing any feeling of dread, it’s almost like a lull within the safety of the sheets and stacks of pillows.

“Pretty nice, huh?”

“Alright, I admit it,” Clementine reaches over to lace their fingers together, “this is cozy.”

“Cozy enough to keep it like this?”

“Let’s not get crazy.”

“Why not?” he asks. “It’s good to be a little crazy every once and a while! You can think of it as waking up every morning in your own little pillow castle.” Then, he nudges her, emphasizing, “Queen Clem.”

She rolls her eyes, giggling at the silly nickname. “Only if you’ll be my court jester, Belouga.”

Louis winks, saying, “Anything for the queen.”

They’re both laughing now as Clementine leans into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He shifts, the laughter slowing as he leans back, bringing her to lie down beside him. She allows herself to relax against the fluffy materials beneath them, sighing contently at the soothing thunderstorm still shaking the earth outside.

Louis pulls a blanket over them, careful to avoid knocking over the flashlight. The warmth envelops them.

They’re comfortably quiet, blinking up at the ceiling of the pillow fort and enjoying each other’s company. The exhaustion of the day hits her, and just as her eyes begin to droop, weariness beginning to take over.

“What a shitty day,” she murmurs with a sigh.

Louis’ hand squeezes hers, bringing them up to rest against his chest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t say anything, turning herself completely onto her side to snuggle closer into his shoulder.

“Violet’ll come around.”

She shakes her head. “So you say.”

“She will,” he insists. “Eventually.”

“I should’ve just stayed out of it.”

“You were worried about her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Worried was a little of an understatement.

When Violet walked back through the gates with Aasim by her side and a bloodied arm, Clementine was the first one there with panic in her wide eyes.

Thankfully, it hadn’t been a bite. One of the traps malfunctioned and sliced Violet’s arm. When Clementine asked her if she was alright, all she got in return was a harsh glare. Then, when Clementine reached out- her first mistake- Violet took her good arm and shoved her to the ground.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Violet!”

Louis stepped in between them, turning a fuming Violet around and guiding her towards Ruby. Aasim helped her up as he explained what happened, but Clementine’s focus was solely on Violet as Ruby hurried her inside before Mitch came out to see what happened.

The fall hadn’t hurt nearly as much as the sting those harsh, furious words or the contempt still lingering in those eyes.

Damn near a year later, and still… Violet still looked at her like that.

“How’s her arm?” she asks.

“Ruby said it wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, so an easy fix. I’ll go check on her in the morning and-” he pauses, squeezing her hand again, ”I could try talking to her-”

“No,” she cuts him off. “Not after what happened last time.”

“That was different. More time has passed now. She might listen to me.”

“You can’t force her to be friends with me again, Lou.”

“...I know,” he sighs. “I just hate seeing you both like that. I... I know how much you miss her.”

She doesn’t respond.

The silence falls over them again, only interrupted with the frequent rumbling from outside. She tries to push those thoughts of Violet out of her mind, rather wanting to focus on the comfort of the boy beside her, on this fingers absently running along her back. She pulls the blanket up closer, allowing her eyes to drift shut. When it feels as though sleep might take her, Louis’ voice brings her back. 

“Clementine?”

The use of her full name, the way it rolls off his tongue so smooth and natural, so soft, spreads a strange shot of warmth through her stomach.

Louis turns on his side, chin resting in his palm as he gazes down at her, chewing on his lip with hesitation in his eyes. Almost as if contemplating.

“I've decided something,” he finally says slowly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What have you decided?”

He tilts his head, studying her thoughtfully. His eyes fall to her lips.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

She blinks up at him, fully awake now, eyes widening at such a blunt statement. The pulse beating in her neck quickens with the fluttering of her belly and spreading heat through her face and down her neck. 

She waits, expecting him to lean over, grip the back of her head and bring their lips together. 

However, he does nothing. 

She breathes out, “Well?”

“Oh, not right now,” he smiles. “But I will before our date’s over, so don’t fall asleep on me, yeah?”

She could smack him. She truly could. All she’d need to do is grab one of the many pillows surrounding them and give him a good wack for making her heart flutter like that.

When Louis begins to chuckle at her expression, her slightly agitated pout, Clementine moves to try and kiss him herself. However, even though the idea went smoothly in her head, the execution didn’t work so well. While trying to crawl over him, her leg knocks into the flashlight when it becomes tangled with another blanket, causing the fort to fall dark.

“Shit-”

“Ow!”

Clementine sits up, patting around for the fallen light within the blankets.

“Where’d it go?”

“Um, that’s my foot!”

“Are you sure?”

“Clem, I’m pretty sure I know the difference between a flashlight and my own foot, thank you.”

Louis moves beside her, helping in the search of the fallen light while chuckling lightly to himself.

She jerks the blanket up, hearing the light crash down against the bare wooden floors. The glow stutters, flashing twice before being covered again when a stack of pillows knocks over, caving in part of the fort.

“Oops.”

“Clementine, are you destroying my- hey hey hey!”

The sheets fall on top of them, bringing down the rest of the fort to crash around them in a fairly silent avalanche of pillows. They’re both stuck in a tangled mess of sheets, pillows, and blankets, trying to find an opening of escape. 

Louis pulls the sheet off of her, exposing her to the fresh air of the room where they both burst out laughing. He managed to find the flashlight, beating it against his palm before it shines again, uncovering the disaster they sit in. 

“What a mess.”

“I blame you.”

Clementine laughs, carefully bringing herself to her feet and offering him a hand. “C’mon, we gotta pick this up.”

“Says who? I say we leave it, sleep among the destruction, and rebuild tomorrow.”

“Nope,” she shakes her head. “Queen’s orders. These all go back to the jester’s quarters.”

“You’re a strict ruler, your majesty. Very commanding. I like that.”

She smiles.

With the light set on AJ’s desk to help illuminate the room, Clementine begins folding up the sheets into nice, smooth squares, setting them on the bed. She glances back at Louis’ reluctant frown at the mess.

“Can’t say this is where I thought our date would go. Any idea where the pretzels went- Oh-” there’s crunching beneath his foot, ���-nevermind.”

She moves over to their bed with a grin still pulling at her lips as she reaches down to grab the blanket.

Something hits her shoulders and back.

Though it didn’t hurt, the suddenness of it causes an embarrassing noise to escape her throat as she whips around. A pillow rests at her feet, the obvious culprit for what struck her.

Her narrow gaze darts up at Louis, whose back is to her. Cheerfully humming to himself, he stacks his pillows into a neat pile oh so innocently.

“Did you just throw that at me?”

“Hm?”

Louis peers over his shoulder, brow raised with a small, knowing smirk pressing to his mouth.

“Louis.”

“What?”

“You hit me!”

“What?” he repeats, pressing a hand over his chest and producing a faux innocence in his expression. “Clem, I would never.”

She kicks the pillow at him. “Then, what’s this?”

“...A pillow from the pillow fort you elegantly destroyed?”

Her head leans back as she rolls her eyes. She turns, but before she can finish bending down to grab the blanket she dropped, Clementine’s hit again, this time against her bottom.

“Louis!”

He laughs, throwing the pillow at her, this time harder as he admits, “Okay, I lied.”

Clementine catches it against her chest, pausing to playfully glare at his challenging expression before darting forward. Louis blocks her attack, shielding himself with his arms as he grabs more pillows, swinging them at her.

Pillows fly everywhere, being thrown and swung around as the two continue to laugh and fight for several minutes, the room buzzing with delightful laughter and soft thuds knocking around.

Clementine manages to knock him down against the cushioned ground where he lays sprawled, chuckling breathlessly as his chest heaves. 

Triumphant with hands on her hips, she towers over him, saying, “I win.”

“Oh, no,” he huffs, pointing up at her, “you don’t.”

Louis weakly throws another pillow at her, which she catches and tosses back at him. He lets it fall over his face, muffling his laughter. Maneuvering herself onto the floor to crawl above him, she yanks the pillow off and secures both his wrists beside his head with a victorious smirk.

He barely struggles, allowing her to overpower him with a slight pout on his lips.

“Say ‘Uncle!’”

“No!”

“Say it!”

“Never!”

Clementine’s in a fit of giggles, barely able to get out, “You’ve already lost, so just give up!”

“Oh-ho!” Louis gives a challenging grin. “But, my darling, I’ve got one last trick up my sleeve.”

“And what-”

He’s quick, forcing himself up to break his wrists free of her grasp, hands moving behind her head to bring her into a firm liplock. A soft noise vibrates in her throat at the sudden contact, but the shock is fleeting. Eyes flutter shut as her hands run over his shoulders and to his neck. She kisses him back, moving her lips with his in the soft, ardent way they always do. 

Too focused on him, his lips and his hands, that she barely notices when her back presses against the comfortable mess of pillows. He tries to pull away, to end the kiss, but she brings him back to her lips. He grins, giving in and kissing her again. 

Clementine lets him move away this time, both lightly panting and gazing at each other through loving, lidded eyes. 

Louis smiles down at her.

“I win.”

[twinsky]

I’ve been working on this for so long... i just wanted to write Noé being in denial of his feelings... take it. enjoy it. please.

-

Title: I bare my heart to thee (but don’t you dare turn to see)

Wordcount: 6.9k

Chapters: 1 of 2

Summary: I have absolutely no interest in the sort of person who would fall for me.”

Noé remembers those words quite clearly, remembers that quiet and somber expression he had worn as he had said it; and so Noé doesn’t love Vanitas. No, not at all. The pounding that sometimes resounds in his chest when he sees the other, the warmth that fills him when the other regards him with one of his smiles –none of that means anything.

None of that means anything because acknowledging what those feelings mean isn’t worth the consequence of what facing them would cause. 

(ao3)

 He realises it before he consciously acknowledges it, but his first opinion when he meets Vanitas is undeniably one of annoyance and displeasure. There is something about the other that Noé would never be able to explain but sometimes makes him want to grab him and shake until he makes sense.

And therein, perhaps, lies the problem. Vanitas is annoying and loud and boisterous and that in of itself is not a problem. Louis could be more than frustrating, and Teacher was nothing if not eccentric so at first, he's not sure what it is about him that irks him so.

At first, he's certain it's the way he carries himself, a haughty kind of confidence as if the world owes him something. A presence that says look at me, I am here. Like his existence is a statement all on its own. It reminds Noé of some of the nobility back home, the type Domi would always steer him away from. The kind who would always look down at him with a sneer. But even that is not right... Vanitas’ confidence does not seem arrogant. If anything sometimes it feels as ephemeral as he does.

Or maybe the way Vanitas seemed to make light of everything, as if there was anything funny about the situations they found themselves in. Falling from an airship, nearly taken out by a borreau, or how he nearly disappeared just crossing through the border without care. All of it met with laughter that drove Noé mad.

Noé was sure that was why he found the other so irritating, except all of that seemed to be so fundamentally untrue.

It feels untrue because the more Noé learns about him the more all of that seems not untrue but... False. An act, a shield, a warning. Noé thinks of Vanitas’ face a top at that chandelier, as he told him vampires and humans are the same in their horridness, of everything that happened with Morreau. 

He thinks of Vanitas pushing him away at every turn.  After the party when Ruthven had given them stay, his agitation and frustration when they went underground.

He thinks of Vanitas leaning against him and telling him he's tired. Of Vanitas saving him again and again, at the party from those curse bearers, from Roland, even when he was trapped within Jean-Jacques memories.

Vanitas carries himself like the world owes him something and from the bits of pieces Noé has seen maybe it does. Vanitas throws himself into his convictions like they're the only thing that keep him going -and hauntingly enough Noé thinks that may be true.

Vanitas shouts of saving others but more and more Noé finds himself thinking that maybe it's him that needs saving. Lately, Noé finds himself thinking more and more about Vanitas, and, wonders if he could be the one to do it.

Noé doesn't hate Vanitas. Of that he's sure, but what he does think of the other is something he doesn't know either. That's fine, he's content with where they are right now, and he has all the time they have yet to spend together to figure it out.

And with how enigmatic Vanitas likes to be, he'd probably be thrilled by how much his very existence seems to send Noé into a bewildered tizzy.

The thought makes him smile, though he’s not sure why.

 -

 (And he would not truly understand the meaning of the stirring in his heart until much later.)

 -

 Noé wakes up one day in a manner he’s slowly growing rather accustomed too. It is not every day, but on days when his sleep runs on too long and Vanitas’ patience too short, he wakes to Vanitas overhead telling him with an irate expression to get up already, that they have places to be and curse-bearers to cure.

It’s a sight he should be used to, so he cannot explain why this time he can’t help but notice the way Vanitas’ eyes glitter in his frustrated tirade. The way the sun filters through the window and causes his usually dark hair to glow the same bright shade of blue that colours his eyes. Can’t help but notice the way that at times like these Vanitas seems so beautifully and undeniably alive.

“You know,” He says, still half-asleep and unable to control himself, “despite your terrible personality you really are quite beautiful.”

Still, even half-asleep his eyes catch the way Vanitas freezes for a moment, before his face turns that terrible blank, lips thinning. He blinks, awareness coming at him all at once, as he shoots up in bed an apology already on his lips for some reason he can’t explain.

But Vanitas has already turned away, halfway through the window. “If you’re awake enough to speak nonsense,” he says, pausing as he leaves, “then you’re awake enough to get out here already. Hurry it up will you?”

He sits there; staring at the window Vanitas has just left through, and wonders why the other’s dismissal sends a painful pang through his chest. 

 -

 He chalks up his weird behaviour that morning to sickness. He tells Vanitas as much and the other blinks, the odd mood that had been hanging over him beforehand dissipating as if it was never there as he laughs.

“You, sick? And here I thought idiots couldn’t catch colds.”

“I’m no idiot,” he replies, the slightest bit confused, “Teacher made sure that I was knowledgeable in many fields, though as of late I’ve come to realise perhaps more specific knowledge on certain subjects rather than a general knowledge might have been better.”

Vanitas laughs even harder, shoulders shaking as he keels over.

Noé feels something warm swell in his chest, and some distant part of him thinks that the sound is pleasing, like bells chiming in the wind.

He shakes his head at the thought, maybe he should ask Domi about this, he’s not sure he’s ever experienced sickness like this before.

 -

 He forgets to ask her, the feelings so momentary and fleeting that for awhile he forgets. The odd thoughts and feelings don’t go away, but Noé’s always been one to roll with the punches. So he thinks Vanitas’ smile is nice, thinks the cadence of his voice is pleasing to the ear, and his blood still smells so very, very delectable. That’s just how it is, it’s simply facts, the same way that him being a vampire, and Vanitas being so very irritating are facts.

It’s not like it means anything.

Still, it becomes frequent enough that he writes her a letter about it, he promised to keep her updated on his life while he was away after all.

 -

 Coincidentally, Domi shows up just a few days later, ruining his precious sleep. Today is one of the rare few days they have nothing to do, no information from Dante or whispers in the street to guide their way.

He thinks that Vanitas still goes out and looks, still searches and searches until long after Noé has gone to bed. If he does, he's never mentioned it, and Noé likes to believe he doesn't because the thought of the other out and alone makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Even so, he thinks of Vanitas’ face as he spits the words “Whether or not you want me to I will save you without fail”.  Words he's heard not once but twice, words said like they're all the other has left. The feeling worsens and a groan slips from his lips.

“Noé!” A voice, Domi's voice, snaps from above him and he realises that he got so lost in his thoughts he forgot all about her.

“Domi,” he replies cheerily, “what brings you here so early? I just sent you a letter, it must've missed you though if you're visiting though.”

“No I received it just fine.” She replies, face twisting into a grimace.

“Oh?” He says, unable to hide the confusion, “is something the matter?” He asks, worry overcoming him. It's not that Domi ever gives much notice, if notice at all, before her visits but the fact she is somehow here before him so soon after receiving his letter. It should have arrived a day or two ago at best, why else would she be so rushed to see him after his update letter unless something has happened back home.

He had mentioned the odd feelings he had assumed to be sickness, but it is nothing so major to cause a rush.

Domi simply huffs however, as if she had never heard a question more boorish. “Come, get ready, I'm treating you to breakfast.”

“Okay…?” He replies after a pause and she nods, briskly turning away, her hair floating like a cape around her as she shuts the door behind her.

He frowns at the closed door, she had seemed troubled, and Noé never likes to see someone so dear to him look anything but happy.

He hopes he can help clear away her bad mood during their breakfast.

 -

 “Are you... Alright, Domi?” He asks warily from behind his cup of tea as he watches Dominque stab at her scrambled eggs until they're more mush than they already were.

She had seemed a bit more settled when Noé had finally dragged himself down the stairs, chatting idly with one of the maids. Yet her good mood had all but vanished as they made to leave. 

Vanitas had been, in one of his rare moments, actually entering through the front door and Dominique has actually turned to almost hiss at him. And while Dominique could be somewhat... protective, when it came to him that was still surprising, if not uncalled for... Vanitas had predictably laughed and headed upstairs without so much as a hello, but she had still been fuming the whole walk there.

“Domi?” He tries again and this time she stabs the plate with enough force that he thinks he hears something crack. The world around them continues without care so at least nobody else heard.

“Noé,” she says tone lacking in the warmth Noé has grown so accustomed to hearing.

“Did something happen back home?” He asks immediately, jumping on the branch she has offered however small. “It feels like you rushed to get here.”

That seems to snap her out of it, her gaze turning sharply at him, eyes furrowed in confusion. “No everything is fine, why would you-” she pauses, expression clearing. “Why do you think I'm here?”

“I mean, I suppose I don't really know but I was frankly worried that something had happened with how promptly you had arrived after my letter.”

“Everything is fine back home,” she replies after a pause, shoulders slumping, “I came so rushed because of the contents of the letter.”

His eyebrows raise, and he thinks back on what he wrote that could have caused such alarm. “Ah! Is it about the sickness, I'm fine really, as you can see, it comes and goes really.”

She groans at that, running a hand through her hair before coming to rest her chin on it.

“You really think your sick?”

“Well, I might be, I don't know what else it could be.” He tilts his head, pondering over his symptoms.

Dominique breathes out heavily, a deep purposeful sound as she lowers her forehead into her hand.

“Domi?”

“Noé,” she begins, not looking up at him, “sometimes I very much do wonder how you've grown up so naive.”

“I -what?”

“Do you remember that time, back in Atlus, when you chased after Jeanne and him?”

He blinks, the question making him straighten in its oddity. “Yes, it wasn't that long ago.” Just a couple weeks ago if he's remembering right.

“And do you remember how you felt?” She asks, taping an irritated rhythm a top the table.

“Yes I was quite chagrined that Jeanne had managed to have a taste of his blood and...” He trails off, remembering Vanitas’ words and feels something cold settle in his stomach, he probably never would either.

“And that's all you felt? Truly?”

“Should I have?”

Dominique sighs, and mutters something that his ears still catch as “I can't believe I'm the one explaining this.” She sighs again, posture slumping with it before straightening up in her chair, hands laced together in front of her. “Noé, picture the two of them alone together, perhaps they are embracing, either way it is quite the loving atmosphere. Mayhap Jeanne tilts her head just so she may partake of his blood. Now tell me, how do you feel?”

He tries imagining it, he imagines that perhaps Vanitas would reach over and brush a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. He thinks that Vanitas would probably give her a small, happy, smile. The image falters there, because Noé cannot picture such a soft expression on the others face. Jeanne probably can, has probably already seen it, has probably--

His stomach twists. It feels like something hot and cloying has curdled in it as his heart thumps a beat that feels strangely hollow.

He feels, he feels - “I feel sick.” Not any illness he can name, but symptoms like this are certainly found in no healthy man.

Dominique would look almost amused if her lips were not curled down into a grimace. “I suppose this could be considered a sickness in a sense.”

“What? So am I-"

Dominique puts a hand out, stopping his reply, "Despite everything, I simply do not have it in me to carry this conversation much further. Noé my dear I will tell you that the relations we have with others are each unique, some are similar but still not the same. And some, some are special, so very special."

"You're special to me Domi." He says, and she smiles fondly at him but it does not quite reach her eyes and ever so faintly he can smell a hint of pain and something he cannot describe on her.

"This is a different kind of special, one you need to understand on your own, because knowing you, even if I spell it out for you, you're still not going to get it." 

"Dominque," he not quite whines and she laughs.

"I think I'm quite done here, I'm heading home." She says and holds her hand out when he makes to join her. "I can find my leave quite fine without you, stay, you've barely touched your food."

"But you just got here."

"And now I'm done! I'm a busy lady my dear, I know you understand." He friend and she smiles benignly at him. "Think about what we talked about, and if what you feel towards that man is truly just friendship."

"I don't get what that has to do with my sickness." He says and Dominique sighs before leaning over and kissing him in the forehead.

"Goodbye Noé." And then she's gone.

 -

 Noé sits there for awhile trying to make sense of her words, and when his thoughts find no answer decides to just go back to the apartment. He is not stupid, he knows people have friends, they have family, they have lovers. But he doesn’t know what it is she wants from him here, Vanitas is a friend, an annoying, concerning friend, but a friend.

He'd like to think they are by now anyways.

 -

 He spots Vanitas on the roof of the building as he approaches and curious goes up to join him, he had thought he would find the other asleep or gone by the time he returned.

“Did Dominique stop by?” He asks when the other does not react to his approach. Vanitas may be human but he has always been eerily aware of his surroundings, “She left our breakfast in quite the rush.”

Still facing away Vanitas inclines his head, “Yes your guard dog did stop by and impart some very annoying warnings.”

He tilts his head, confused, but does not push the topic, something tells him Vanitas would not give him a direct answer. “She said some rather odd things to me too, but Domi is wont to speak her mind without a nary a concern for the people listening, whether it’s understanding them or angering them.”

Vanitas shoulders slump with the statement and he tilts his head back, staring up at him. “Is that so? Not surprising really.” He says, standing up and dusting himself off. “Enough about that, pack your things, Dante turned up some interesting information about a town off to the east.”

“A curse-bearer?”

“Perhaps, it warrants further investigation at the very least. The next train leaves in a few hours, meet me at the station then or I’ll leave you behind.” And then, with that odd speed he occasionally displays, is gone.

“He didn’t even tell me the information Dante gave him.”

 -

 Vanitas takes one look at him as he arrives at the station and sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Congrats on not getting lost -” and Noé decides that perhaps he doesn’t need to know that he had intended to arrive early but had gotten distracted by a passing showman - “now come on let’s board, I’ll explain the case on the way.”

 “So people have been falling into wakeless sleep?” He asks and Vanitas nods, taping the frame of the window as he stares out at the passing scenery.

“From what Dante could find there are currently 13 cases of people in town simply going to bed one night and refusing to wake, they’re not dead, but nothing the doctors have tried rouse them, the longest of them had been just over a month.”

He purses his lips thinking the statement over “But if no ones dying, is it really a curse-bearer?”

“Not necessarily, I’d have to see the victims myself, but that isn’t the only reason we’re going. Last week the second victim was found dead in her room, heart gouged from her chest, and then the following morning two more townspeople would not wake.”

“So that’s 14 people? The 13 ongoing cases, and the one dead?” He clarifies, the only part of the explanation he really has a grasp on.

Vanitas shakes his head, turning to look at him, “15 actually, the first victim has been the only one to wake up, and will be the first person we speak to when we arrive.”

“Oh, they agreed to speak to us?” 

Vanitas smiles, “Not exactly, but Dante did find her address, so she’ll be speaking to us whether she wants to or not.”

 -

 Noé would think in a town where people are dropping into eternal sleep, and where one of its residents was recently gruesomely murdered, they would be more hesitant, more wary. But no, the people continue to move about without pause, and no one gives either of them the time of day. As such they arrive at their destination without trouble and Vanitas wastes no time knocking on the door.

There is silence before Noé hears hesitant footsteps approach.

“Who is it?” A voice floats through the door, soft but firm.

“My name is Vanitas, and I’m a doctor,” Vanitas replies, and then looks over at Noé, “... and my assistant Noé. I’m trying to find a cure to the illness that plagues your town, I thought that perhaps you my lady might have some information.”

A quiet sigh and then the distinctive sound of a door unlocking. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, you aren’t the first to come by here, but I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

“Thank you,” Noé says, taking in her paler than normal skin and sunken eyes. If Vanitas is right she’s been awake for well over a month, why does she still look so fragile.

“Sit, I’ll put on some tea.” She says, disappearing into a different room.

“She’s experienced severe blood loss.” Vanitas says the moment she’s out of bloodshot, eyes roaming around the room.

“You think so too?” Noé says, staring down the hall in concern.

“It’s the only explanation for her current state, she’s fine now but her body is still in recovery from whatever happened.”

“That’s a sign towards it being a curse-bearer though right?”

“Sure seems like it,” Vanitas says, then clicks his teeth, “It doesn’t make sense that none of these victims are dying. And the one that did -”

“Am I interrupting?”

“No! Not at all, please come sit you look fatigued.” He says, standing up and motioning to take the tray away from her.

She laughs, setting it down on the table and brushing back a stray lock of hair as she sits. “No I’m quite fine, I may still be a bit weak but I’m fine enough for household chores.” She sets a cup in front of each of them, pouring the tea carefully before setting it down and straightening herself. “I apologize for the late introduction, my name is Violet, what can I do to help?”

“Any information at all, from before or after your sickness, even during.”

Violet stills, then shakes her head. “There’s nothing interesting about before, I went to bed and then woke up a week later so weak I could not lift my finger. I felt as if everything inside me had been sucked dry and I’m certain if I had just a little bit more blood I would not be here now.” She smiles bitterly, “It took me a week to find the strength to simply sit up, but it’s been much faster since. Standing and movement is bit tiring after a while, but my neighbour has been checking in often.”

“And during?” Vanitas prompts when she grows quiet.

“It’s funny, but no one ever asked that, I suppose who cares about my dreams. But it was... wonderful. The details are blurry now but it was like living my perfect life, I cannot remember a time I had felt so happy but. But I do remember at night in that world  it would grow so very dark, so very quiet, and my heart would pound so fast -and then it would be morning. The last time it was so... so terrible like my heart would simply stop I remember screaming, and then I was awake.”

Violet takes a breath, a shaky hand lifting her teacup to take a sip, as Noé looks at her, unsure of what to say.

“And do you know of the other victims?” Vanitas asks when she seems to have collected herself.

“Of them? Yes, I was the first and only I am told, but after I awoke three more fell the following day. Personally? Not really, Henry ran the bakery in town but he...”

“The one who died?” Noé asks when she trails off and she startles, eyes snapping over to him.

“The second, actually. It was just last night, the towns in a buzz that someone else will fall asleep to take his place to night.”

“A second victim,” Vanitas mumbles, before standing abruptly. “Miss Violet I must thank you for your aid, with any luck we’ll have this matter solved within a few days.”

“Such confidence,” she says, eyes wide, “You are not the first to make this claim, but I must say you are the most sure.” She smiles warm, standing as well. “I place my faith in you Monsieur Vanitas and Noé, I do not wish to see more of my townspeople dead in such a manner, or asleep eternally even if their dreams are as peaceful as mine.”

“We will,” Noé confirms, “I promise.” he continues, ignoring Vanitas’ glare at the words.

“I’ll hold you to it.” She laughs as she waves them goodbye.

 -

 "So what now?" He asks as they make their way down the street. This town is smaller than Paris. The roads are well paved and the houses of good make, but the trees still surround the city the air here smells cleaner. It's amazing in a completely different way than Paris entrances him.

"I want to look over the other victims, but I forgot to ask Violet who they were."

"Dante didn't tell you?"

"No he just have me her, thought she'd be the only one with useful information. I suppose we'll just have to ask someone else."

No sooner do the words leave his lips than a woman all but barrels into them, grasping at Vanitas hands and clinging.

"You. You I saw you two leave Violet's house, but you're different right? You know what's really going on here?"

Vanitas stands frozen mouth curled down in distaste to where she is clinging so hard her hands are shaking. "Mademoiselle, what are you talking about?"

She snaps her head over to him, her ponytail swishing across Vanitas' face as she does so. "You're a vampire, please, I beg of you, help my daughter."

 -

 She leads them to a house near the edge of town, where the cobblestoned streets give way to sort and grass. There's a field of what looks to be vegetables off in the distance.

Her pace as fast but not quite frantic and the townspeople they pass by give them pitying looks. She welcomes them in as she calls out to someone out of view.

"Jean come down I think I finally found someone who can help Marie.” There is a moment of silence before Noé hears a loud thud and the sound of footsteps gaining traction approaching them right after.

“Myriel, my dear, you’re not making fun are you?” Comes a man’s voice as it rounds a corner, face tired and drawn behind a heavy pair of glasses, black shaggy hair loosely hanging around his face.

“I would not joke about this!” She says fiercely, and then lowers her voice, “I found a vampire, they have to be able to do something.”

From beside him Vanitas tsks and he knows that his patience has run out. “Myriel was it? You have dragged us half across this town and I allowed it because your words seemed important to this case, but if you don’t start speaking sense soon I will leave and find my information some other way.”

“No!” The two of them shout, hands grasping each others.

“Please,” Says the man, Jean, “you have to understand we hadn’t known what to do, you’re the first ray of hope we’ve had since this whole ordeal started.”

“Is your daughter one of the victims?” Noé asks and Myriel closes her eyes, hand clenching tighter around Jean’s.

“We think she’s the cause.” She says after a beat and he doesn’t have to look to know that Vanitas has straightened, attention peaked.

“You two are human.” Vanitas says, states, and she nods her head. “But your daughter?”

“She’s... Marie is a vampire, we found her in the forest when she was still young, barely able to walk. Her clothes bloodstained and her eyes glowing red it wasn't hard to know what she was, what had happened to her family.”

“And you kept her?” Vanitas asks, incredulous, and her gaze hardens, swiping over to Noé before settling back on Vanitas.

“She was a child, was I meant to abandon her? Given the company you keep I don’t see what room you have to judge us.”

Her gaze is firm, unflinching, and after a pause Vanitas kicks him lightly on the shin. He blinks, “I was raised by humans as well, they were very kind to me, please know we aren’t judging you. But what do you mean you think your daughter is the cause?”

She shares a look with her husband who nods. “Living in town we did not want to hide her, she’s so bright and adorable it seemed like a shame just because of what she is. So we did our best to teach her about what she is, and what she could and couldn’t do. We let her drink our blood every once in awhile, we thought it might give her some control to know what it tastes like, to have a source, so perhaps if something happened when we weren’t there she might have some control. We aren’t experts of course but we did what we thought was right, and its worked for over a decade, Marie is 13 and has never gotten into any trouble. But one day…” She trails off there and Jean speaks instead.

“It was almost two months ago, Myriel hadn’t been feeling well that week but it was around the time of month we let Marie have some blood and she was excited for it.”

“I should’ve waited for you to come home.” She interrupts, sounding near tears and Jean pauses, and murmurs something softly too her before placing a kiss on her forehead.

“I had been out on work and Myriel saw no harm in allowing her, and it should have been fine. But with her illness the small amount of blood Marie took was enough to leave her faint and she passed out. When I arrived back home Marie had moved her to her bed and was crying inconsolably beside her. Myriel had been fine of course but Marie was… different after. She shied away from us, spoke less, and sometimes just looked simply afraid. This went on for almost two weeks before she told us she was off to see a friend, it had been the first time she had wanted to leave the house since then, except. Except she didn’t come home that day, and two days later the first person fell into their wakeless sleep.”

“And you think Marie is behind it?” Vanitas asks

“We don’t want to, but the timing is too perfect, and you met with Violet no? It had been like she was drained dry.” Jean replies.

“But that death, that murder, it couldn’t have been Marie!” Myriel interrupts.

“Oh? And why not?” And Noé wishes he could hit him over the head for speaking to her like that.

“Marie is no murderer, she let Violet wake up before she died, she’s taken more townspeople to slow down whatever it is she’s doing to them. I don’t understand this, but I understand my daughter, she’s just scared, she’s alone and I need you to find her so I can bring her home and let her know she’s done nothing wrong.”

“You truly care about her,” Vanitas says, voice strangely blank when Noé can hear the genuine sentiment in it. “Well you’re in luck, then I, Vanitas, as a Vampire Doctor, one sworn to save all of their kind, I will find your daughter and cure her.”

“Really, you mean it? Whatever we can do to help, just let us know.” Myriel says, taking one step forward to Vanitas’ one step back.

“Stay here, I don’t need your help, and neither does my companion here.” He says, taking another step back. “Now good day, thank you for your help.”

“Hey, wait I don’t –” Jean tries, but Vanitas has already turned, halfway out he door.

“Ah, I apologize for him, but we will save your daughter, and find out exactly what’s going on here.”

 -

 “Do you think you know what’s going on here?”

“Malnomen, Mara; that which steals in dreams. If they are to be believed then this is the most likely affliction that affects their daughter. It also means we are most definitely dealing with two curse-bearers.”

“Mara?”

“It is thought to be by some a being which causes nightmares, giving the wakeless sleep the victims are in, it’s about right.”

“How do you find someone like that, it don’t sound very threatening.”

“It’s not, in terms of malnomen’s its fairly benign when they take so many victims. The curse-bearer themselves is asleep as well, it’s the finding them that’s hard.”

“Really?”

“The bearer creates a kind of barrier around them, it makes them near impossible to spot for humans, and difficult for vampires as well. But, we’ve lucked out.”

“How so?” He asks, and Vanitas smiles.

“Our little Marie has already been found by another curse-bearer, one using her victims for easy prey. We find them, we find her.”

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

“With you, mon ami, I doubt that curse-bearer bothered to cover their tracks given the method. Hopefully you can pick up some kind of trail that’ll lead us back to her. Now come along, we have vampires to save!”

Noé looks back down the path, down back to where Jean and Myriel live, and hopes they solve this soon for both their sakes.

  -

  Noé tracks the other curse-bearer down into the forest but the closer they get the harder it gets, more difficult to pinpoint the exact location.

“Vanitas, I think we go le –” He turs, but the other is gone, “Vanitas? Did he get lost?”

He frowns before moving further into the forest, well, they’ll meet up again eventually.

“Monsieur, Monsieur wait up please!”

“Myriel? What are you doi – are you holding a rifle?”

Myriel slows a to a stop beside him, taking a breath before holding herself up straight, looking up at him with a gaze so firm her green eyes seem glowing. “We couldn’t just stay at home while you searched for our daughter. The rifle is for if something happens, don’t worry! I know how to use one well.”

“It’s not safe Myriel.” He tries to placate.

“You do dangerous things for the people you love Monsieur.”

“My name is Noé.” He replies, unsure of how to respond to that and Myriel gives him an odd stare before the silence is interrupted with a yell.

“That was Jean.” Myriel says, head shooting towards the sound.

The curse-bearer, he thinks giving her a weak smile. “Stay here, please, it’s not safe.”

“Wait! Stop leaving!”

 -

 He tracks the scream down to find both Jean and Vanitas pinned down by two large and gnarled claws, the skin around it pale and drawn. The rest of them is the same, a paleness to it that makes them shine a sickly white.

While its attention seems focused on it’s two captures Vanitas gaze snaps to him near immediately, an expression to it Noé recognises instantly. He wants him to stay out of it, to put himself in danger for Vanitas’ benefit without his say so.

An expression Noé recognises as easily as he ignores it, but it still gives him pause long enough for it to drive it’s claws deeper into them and Jean cries out yet again. The cry jerks him out of his shock, and he moves to end it just as he hears Myriel’s yell from behind him.

“Away from my husband you monster!” And then she shoots, a clean shot to its shoulder that makes it rear back in pain, enough time for the two of them to move away from under it. “And give me back my daughter!” She finishes, another shot that misses its mark, but calls Noé’s attention to the fact that there is indeed a girl floating cradled just behind it, far too long hair that glows wrapped all around her like a cocoon, some of the strand then reaching out from her towards the town.

“Enough of this!” Vanitas says, pulling open his book, but the curse-bearer recovered from its earlier wound strikes, knocking Vanitas back and pinning him down with one clawed hand, the other reaching up to strike and this time Noé doesn’t hesitate reaching out to strike, pushing it away from Vanitas before its claw can reach its mark. “Quick, before it gathers itself back together again.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Vanitas shouts, opening the Book of Vanitas, the same blue that overtakes it shining around the curse-bearer beneath him slowly shrinking them back down to a boy of Noé’s age, sandy blonde hair brushing over a peaceful freckled face in sleep.

“Malnomen; Nachzehrer, he who eats the dead.” Vanitas murmurs under his breath before whipping around to face Jean and Myriel, who is kneeled on the ground tending to Jean’s wounds. “You two, are you mad coming here, that curse-bearer could have very well killed you, and just!” Vanitas looks up, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “I am going to heal your daughter, the townspeople should wake up shortly after, figure out what to do with this boy because I no longer care.”

He opens his book again and catches Marie when the hair around her. unfurls and shortens down a short brown bob as she descends. He then dumps her unceremoniously in Noé’s arms and waves himself off.

“Meet me at the station when you’re done, but, make it soon or I’ll leave with or without you.”

“Vanitas!” Noé hisses, but Myriel laughs.

“Thank you, Monsieur Vanitas, we could never thank you enough for your aid.” She calls out as he walks off.

Noé frowns, moving over to the two of them, carrying Marie carefully through the clearing. “I apologize for him, but really this was dangerous what would Marie if something had happened to the two of you?!”

“I told you Noé, you do dangerous things for the people you love, and there is nothing I would not do to keep these two safe.”

“The same to you my dear.” Jean says and Myriel grows a bright red.

“Oh hush, you.”

“Still, how could you –”

“Monsieur Noé you speak as if you do not understand but I am not blind you know. I see the looks, the way you reacted when he was in danger. Love comes in many forms, I’m glad you’ve found yours.”

“Myriel,” Jean chides, sitting up and taking Marie from Noé’s currently limp hands and Myriel leans over to place tearful kisses all over her face.

“Ah, I’ve spoken out of place haven’t I? Go, go, pay us no mind we’ll deal with this mess, let our daughter she’s fine, that boy’s the bakers apprentice, we’ll have a talk with him as well.”

“But…”

“Yes, that reminds me!” She says pulling a card out of her pocket. “Our address is on it, send a missive when you arrive back home, we really must send prepare you something for your efforts. I thought we’d never get Marie back.”

“Myriel, Jean, there really is no need what me and Vanitas do is reward enough on it’s own.”

“You better mail us, it’s a promise! Now I’m serious, go, don’t keep your friend waiting, and remember what I said!”

“I am not in lo –” He stops short and pales, “I… goodbye you two, it was nice to meet you.”

 -

 “Vanitas did you buy the tickets?” Noé asks as he spots him leaning outside the stations entry.

“Hm? Well there’s a train in 15 minutes but you still weren’t here so.”

“Well, well I’m here now, so please buy them.” Vanitas pushes himself off the wall, looking over a t him suspiciously.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, “I just want to get home. The four of them are fine.”

Vanitas gives him one last incredulous look before turning into the station. “Whatever you say then, lets go.”

 -

 They spend the ride back in silence, his thoughts turning around what Dominique had said to him, how he feels when he’s around Vanitas, what he had witnessed today, what Myriel had said to him. And he finds… he finds. No.

“I have absolutely no interest in the sort of person who would fall for me.”

Noé remembers those words quite clearly, remembers that quiet and somber expression he had worn as he had said it; and so Noé doesn’t love Vanitas. No, not at all. The pounding that sometimes resounds in his chest when he sees the other, the warmth that fills him when the other regards him with one of his smiles –none of that means anything.

None of that means anything because acknowledging what those feelings mean isn’t worth the consequence of what facing them would cause. 

 -

 “You’ve been weird lately.” Vanitas remarks one day over lunch. “Weirder than usual anyways.”

“Really?” He asks and is glad Vanitas doesn’t have the hearing to hear the way his heart stutters over the remark.

“Yeah” Vanitas says, punctuating the word with a wave of his fork. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about but get it together. And if you want to talk then… never mind. I have to leave now but, work on whatever’s bothering you, it’s annoying.” He says, slapping some coins on the table and waltzing out of the café.

“I’m trying, not that you’d know.” He says to the empty seat before him.

 -

 Feelings are, awkward, and worse when they’re for someone who could never reciprocate them. Even worse when they could possibly hate them for it. So Noé will put a lid on this feeling, he’ll bury it so deep he won’t even remember about it, because that’s what’s for the best right now.

That’s what will let him stay by Vanitas’ side until this reaches its end. And maybe then, maybe then he’ll be able to share it. Maybe then, Vanitas will be open to that, accept the hand Noé reaches out to him.

(And he’ll keep reaching out, because one day, whether Vanitas wants it or not, he’ll save him from the destruction he seems to be so carelessly running towards.) 

But until then they have their mission, and that will be enough.

He’ll make it enough.

[donttellstiles]

Heart Monitor

HEART MONITOR

CH.7

unedited

♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦

masterlist

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(gif credit to owner)

''Come in!'' I called out to my front bedroom door when someone knocked. I took of my ear phones and stopped what I was doing momentarily once I saw Aunt Kate walk in. I instantly smile up at her from where I was sitting Indian style on my bed.

''Hey kiddo, what's up?'' She asks with a smile.

''Ugh nothing, I have this report to hand in tomorrow and it's kinda killing me'' You closed you laptop and rose off of your bed, placing it down on your desk.

''Do you know what Allison's doing?'' I asked, wondering why she came to talk to me instead of her. I get let off with a warning while Allison got grounded.

''Pining, but I think she's secretly meeting with Scott'' Kate was honest. I looked up at her and smirked, knowing my sister would do something like that.

''And they say I'm the rebellious one'' I joked, Kate laughed a little as well.

''What are you working on, can I help?'' Kate asks, moving towards my desk. I smile and nod, popping open my laptop and reopening the word document and internet tab.

''History project, I have to find something to do with my history and write about it, any ideas?'' I was stumped, my family history was boring. Apart from moving a lot and having family practically all over the country there really wasn't anything to write about.

''Specific to your family?'' Kate leans over me as I sit down in my desk chair.

''Yeah'' I responded.

''Type this in... la bête du gévaudan'' I typed it in word for word then hit enter. I scrolled down a little and read a few sentences.

''Woah, what is this?'' I was instantly curious.

''It's the french legend that might have something to do with your family...'' She trailed off, obviously wanting me to read out a line or two.

''In 1776 in a province of Auvergne, La bete killed over 100 people...'' My eyes squinted to read more.

''Mysterious animal attacks just like a certain town called Beacon Hills...'' She trailed off herself, looking at me and computer screen.

''So, what was it... the animal?'' I asked, not liking the eerie vibe I was receiving from reading this.

''Nobody knows for sure but I can tell you one thing, it definitely wasn't a mountain lion'' I placed my hand on the side of my neck as I tilted my head, staring at the photo that was attached to the site.

''What's it look like to you?'' Kate asks, almost provoking me into finishing her sentences or questions.

''It looks like...'' My mind flashed back to the other day, being in the animal clinic with Stiles and Derek. I shivered at thought, trailing my hand over the goosebumps that rose on my skin.

''A wolf''

~*~*~*~*

Scott could practically smell the anger and irritation rolling off of Stiles when he walking in the classroom. He knew his dad was almost ran over but he wasn't, only Avery. He was mad with himself that she even got hit in the first place but there was nothing he could have done. He was just glad she wasn't badly hurt.

''Still not talking to me?'' Scott asked, already knowing the answer. Stiles bit his lip and rolled his pen in his hand, letting out an angry sigh.

''Can you at least tell me why you're mad?'' Scott had no clue, Avery was practically mean to everyone, including him at times. Scott didn't mind her but hated her attitude.

''Is this about Avery?'' Stiles stiffened at the mention of her name. Stiles wasn't quite sure why he was mad at Scott about Avery. She was a total bitch to him 90 percent of the time. Maybe it was about the other day where he saw a different side to her, maybe it had something to do with the fact that she wasn't all mean, underneath laid a very hurt and possibly broken girl just trying to put up a mask. Stiles sighed again.

''You know I feel, really bad about it, right?'' Scott asked, genuinely meaning it. He never meant for anyone to get hurt.

''Okay... what if I told you that I'm trying to figure this whole thing out...'' Scott speaks, crossing his arms over in thought. He really was, he was still no where near in control of his wolf.

''I went to Derek for help'' Stiles groaned and rolled his eyes.

''If I was talking to you I would say that you're an idiot for trusting him... But obviously I'm not talking to you'' Stiles finally spoke, still facing the front of the room.

The bell rang signalling the start of class. Scott lent down to grab his things from his bags as a few students strolled in. Stiles clicked his tongue a few times in annoyance, knowing his curiosity was going to get the best of him. He spun around in his chair quickly.

''What did he say?'' Scott smiled.

~*~*~*~*

''The what of who?'' Lydia asks beyond confused, twirling her fork in the air absentmindedly. I rolled my eyes but went back to my back, biting into my apple. My jacket was hanging off the back of the chair, allowing some warmth to radiate onto my back.

''The beast of gévaudan.. listen.. a quadruped like monster, prowling the Auvergne over in south daidone, areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La bête killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that the Kind Louis XV sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it'' Allison reads out. I pop my book down slightly, listening in to their conversation. Why was she doing the same thing? Had Kate talked to her too?

I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist, admiring the wolf pendant on it. My eyes widen in realization.

This was what she wanted us to find out.

''Boring'' Lydia stated, flicking her fork around not really caring.

''Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan'' Allison continued, finding it very intriguing herself. However, Lydia hummed to herself in thought.

''Hmm, still boring'' I stayed quite, wanting to know just how far Allison was going to dig.

''Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a sub-species of wolf predator, possibly mesonychid''

''Slipping into a coma bored'' Lydia rolled her eyes, finally eating what was on her fork.

''While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape-shift into a man-eating monster'' I tried to hide myself behind my book, really not liking where this was going.

''Avery, does this have anything to do with your family?'' Lydia tried to include me in but all I did was stare back at her, not really wanting to answer.

''This, it is believed that La bête was finally trapped and killed by a renowned hunter, who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature. His name was Argent'' Allison stated, glancing up from the book with a look of pride.

''Your ancestors killed a big wolf, so what?'' Lydia asks, still not entirely interested. I didn't blame her, it did sound like an old wives tale.

''Not just a big wolf, take a look at this picture'' Allison moved the book in front of Lydia, showing her the picture of the 'wolf'.

''What does it look like to you?'' Allison asks, resting her chin on top of the opened book. Lydia takes a long glance, her eyes not even blinking. I glanced up at her, watching as a fleck of fear wash across her eyes but soon disappeared.

''It looks like a. Big. Wolf, see you in history'' She snaps back to herself and collects her things, walking away. Allison just slumps back and sighs, not even noticing the look on her friends face. Allison folded the book and placed it down, turning to face me.

''Do you think it looks like a wolf?'' She asks me. I glance up and shake my head.

''I think it's just a wolf'' She furrowed her eyebrows at me, not getting my answer but didn't push the subject further. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, finishing off her lunch. I looked over my shoulder and saw Scott and Stiles, Scott failing to hide behind a massive textbook.

Stiles glances towards Avery and Allison, watching as Lydia walks away. His eyes trail her for a moment before glancing back to the table, eyes meeting Avery's. He turns back around, frowning once again when his friends pops the textbook back up over his face.

''I think the books making it more obvious'' Stiles grabs the book and tilts it down so he could see Scott's face as he spoke.

''Besides they're reading anyway'' Stiles says, glancing over his shoulder one more time to make sure they actually were. He turned back around and continued writing down in his book.

''So, did you come up with a plan?'' Scott asks, moving the book slightly to the side.

''I think so'' Stiles responds, biting into his apple.

''Does that mean you don't hate me now?'' Scott asked hopefully.

''No, but you're crap is infiltrating my life, so, now I have to do something about it'' Stiles complains, finishing the rest of his apple quickly.

''Plus I'm definitely a better Yoda than Derek''

''Okay, yeah you teach me'' Scott agrees, not really wanting to speak to Derek at all.

''Okay I'll be your Yoda'' Stiles agrees, glancing down to his book.

''Yeah, you be my Yoda''

''Your Yoda I will be'' Scott just glanced at him. Stiles smiled a goofy grin, liking the impersonation he did of Yoda.

''I said it backwards-''

''Yeah, I know'' Scott cut him off, knowing that Stiles would go on an elaborate tangent otherwise.

''Alright, you know what, I definitely still hate you. Uh aha! Oh yeah'' Stiles swiftly gathered his things and rose from the table. He started walking away causing Scott to panic.

''Stiles!'' He shouted out a little too loudly. Allison and Avery both glanced up from what they were reading and stared.

''Scott?'' Allison asks, watching as he runs out of the cafeteria.

''Scott wait!' Allison calls out again, gathering her own things to follow him. I, however, took a another bite from my lunch, enjoying the peace and solitude without the worry and struggles of relationships.

~*~*~*~*

''I just had the weirdest conversation with Jackson...'' My ears perked up at this. Allison turned her head towards me as we continued down the hallway towards economics. I was friends with Jackson myself but I knew he was a jerk, a grade-A jerk so I was beyond confused why Allison would even want to be around him.

''Why we're you even talking to him?'' I asked her. She sighed and lulled her head back.

''He talked to me, wanting to apologize and stuff'' She muttered, glancing around us as if she was telling me some huge dark secret. I furrowed my eyebrows, not believing this.

''Jackson never apologizes, not even to Lydia'' I stated, hugging the economics book to my chest. We walked in the doorway and over towards our row of seats.

''I know'' Was the last thing she said before turning around to face Scott.

''Let's go! Sit, sit, sit, sit we have a lot to cover today'' Mr Finstock went on and on, getting us to hurry up as the second bell went signally that start of the lesson. I froze in my place realizing the last seat was next to Stiles. I had been trying to avoid him since yesterday, since my outburst at his house occurred. He looked up and just smiled, not even feeling the awkwardness radiating off of me.

''Hey'' Stiles says as I took my seat, plopping my bag and book down.

''Hey'' I responded, turning towards the front to hopefully stop the conversation. I hated that it was awkward, I didn't want to feel awkward around him, I wanted to dislike him as much as possible.

''Ahh I heard what happened last-''

''Please don't talk to me'' I didn't mean for it to be harsh, just blunt. I twiddled with pen in between my fingers, biting my lip as I faced forward. Stiles recoiled at her response, shrinking back into his chair. He had thought that maybe you'd be nicer but he was wrong. He was even upset with himself for even caring about your well being. He couldn't understand you and honestly, he wasn't sure if he wanted too.

''So I'm guessing things are going back to normal, you being a total bitch and-''

''Yep'' Stiles just nodded to himself and lent back in his chair, not bothering to add anything else. He didn't want to admit to himself that deep down, he was disappointed.

''Let's start with a quick summary of last's nights reading'' Mr Finstock states, his eyes scanning the classroom. A few people popped their hands up.

''Greenburg put your hand down, I know you did the reading'' Mr Finstock said with annoyance, looking to pick someone else.

''How about... ahhh... McCall?'' Mr Finstock made his was over around his desk and towards us, crossing his arms over. He lent against the edge of his desk and smirked towards Scott.

''The reading...'' He trailed on, waiting for Scott to continue.

''Last night's reading?'' Scott asks, hoping to get out of this.

''Ah, how about the reading of the Gettysburg Address?'' He asks sarcastically, a couple of students laughing. Scott looks around in confusion.

''What?''

''That's sarcasm, are you familiar with the term sarcasm?'' Scott turns his head towards Stiles, rolling his eyes.

''Very'' Stiles smiles to himself proudly. I turn to Stiles myself and shake my head, letting out a small smile.

''Did you do the reading or not?'' Mr Finstock asks, crossing his arms even more, getting serious.

''Uhhh.. I think I forgot'' Scott admits shamefully.

''Nice work, McCall. It's not like you're averaging a D in this class'' Mr Finstock leans down to Scott to whisper to him as a few classmates chuckle. I bit my lip nervously, not liking the way he was giving Scott a hard time.

''How about you summarise... uhh... the previous nights reading?'' The teacher asks, eyeing Scott. I hear a beeping from beside so I turn my head to face Stiles, noticing him glancing down towards his phone. I lent forward trying to get a closer look.

''How about the uhh... night before that?'' I could hear the Mr Finstock but tried to see the phone screen for myself. Why was Stiles on his phone right now? The teacher was giving his best friend a hard time.

''How about summarizing anything you've ever read, in your entire life!'' He raised his voice. A few classmates snickered, enjoying this. I wanted to roll my eyes at each of them. Unfortunately I lent a little too far and felt my chair stumble, my body moving forward. I placed my hand on Stiles desk and chair to stop myself, only creating a subtle thud. I glanced up to the teacher to see if he had noticed, he didn't, still eyeing down McCall. However, once I turned my head Stiles had whipped around, phone in front of him and his face mere inches from mine.

I gulped. Curiosity is going to be the death of me.

''Sorry'' I quickly lent away, sitting back in my seat in embarrassment.

''No? A book? How about.. uhh.. a back of a cereal box?'' Mr Finstock kept going on. Stiles sighed to himself, knowing this was going to be a bad idea but did it anyway. He nudged my shoulder, gaining my attention. He bought his phone closer so we could both see. While I watched the screen in confusion, seeing the number go up Stiles panicked, gripping his hair.

''What's wrong?'' I whispered, hoping not to gain the angry teachers attention. Stiles just let out an aggravated sigh but watched the screen instead, watching the number reach 160.

''Wait, is that a heart rate monitor?'' I asked, finally realizing what it was. I placed my hand on the phone and took it from Stiles grasp. The almost silent beeping going off like crazy as the numbers kept growing. Stiles glanced up at the back of his best friend, praying to god he wasn't going to wolf out. It was Stiles turn to lean over to Avery, not really giving it a thought that she had taken the phone from him.

''It's going down'' I whispered, knowing Stiles was literally right next to me. Stiles lent back in is chair and glanced around, wondering how he did it. He looked down and noticed Allison's hand in his, running a thumb over. Stiles eyes widen in realization.

However I looked at the phone flabbergasted. Why the hell was Stiles recording someone's heart rate. His own? Doesn't make sense, at this rate he would have almost had a heart attack.

''No way...'' Stiles muttered to himself, not realizing I had heard. I turn to him confused, handing his phone back.

''I have so many questions... but I don't know if I want to know the answers...'' I muttered, growing more and more confused by the second with these two.

''Trust me, you don't''

~*~*~*~*

''It's her'' Stiles says as soon as him and Scott leave the classroom. Stiles had even made sure to peep over his shoulder to make sure Avery wasn't nearby.

''What do you mean?'' Scott noticing Stiles looking around, so naturally he did too.

''It's Allison. Remember what you told me the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her, right? About protecting her'' Scott nodded his head, glancing down.

''Okay''

''Remember the night of the first Lacrosse game? You said you could hear a voice from the field'' Stiles asked, hoping Scott was already figuring it out.

''Yeah, I did''

''So that's what brought you back so you could score, and then after the game in the locker room, you didn't kill anyone, at least not like how you were trying to kill me'' Stiles concluded, using his hands as gestures.

''She brings you back, is what I'm saying'' Stiles adds on once he sees the look of confusion on his best friends face.

''I don't know, it's not always true because literally every time I'm kissing her or touching her-''

''No that's, that's not the same, when you're doing that you'e just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex, you know?'' Stiles mentions, trying to make it clearer. He stops talking once he sees the goofy grin crossing Scott's lips.

''You're thinking about sex right now, aren't you'' Stiles had wanted to slap him upside.

''Yeah'' Scott admits bashfully. Stiles rolls his eyes but continues to talk anyway.

''Look, back in the classroom, after Avery went all weird on me, when Allison was holding your hand, that was different, okay? I don't think she actually makes you weak, I think she actually gives you control, she's kinda like an anchor'' Scott stops Stiles once it clicks.

''You mean because I love her'' Scott doesn't realize what he's said but Stiles does.

''Exactly'' Scott does a double take.

''Did I just say that?'' Stiles had really wanted to slap him now.

''Yes, you did'' It was like pointing out the obvious.

''I love her'' Scott says louder, a huge smile coating his features.

''That's great, now before you go off to write a sonnet can we please-''

''No really, I think I'm totally in love with her'' Scott says, still not getting over the fact. He could feel his heart beginning to beat faster, the warmth in his cheeks spreading.

''Now that's beautiful, but moving on-''

''Do you love Avery?'' This took Stiles by surprise. He knew his friend was basically on cloud 9 right now and probably had no idea what he was saying.

''Do I... what?'' He wanted to make sure he heard him right. Scott just nudged Stiles shoulder still with a smile.

''Do you like her?'' He asks. Stiles stops and stares at Scott like he had grown two heads.

''No, I do not like or love Avery, she's... weirdly complicated and hugely annoying'' Stiles states, feeling a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was weird talking about this, he wanted it to stop.

''Now please, can we focus on the control thing'' Scott seemed to shake out his daze.

''Yeah, yeah sorry, what do I do?'' Stiles sighed with relief to himself, glad to have that conversation over and done with.

''I have an idea''

~*~*~*~*

I pulled my car up into the driveway and turned off the ignition. I hoped out and grabbed my backpack, fiddling with the keys in my hand as I unlocked the front door. I closed it shut behind me and removed my jacket, placing it on the stand next to the door.

''How was school?'' Dad asked, walking past.

''School was school'' I responded with a tired smile. He smiled back and continues on towards the kitchen. I raced up the stairs and over into my bedroom, chucking my bag down on the floor and flopping onto the bed. I let out a comfortable sigh once my head hit the fluffy cushions.

I couldn't help but to let my mind race over the events that happened today. It was a hell of a weird one that was for sure. I bit my lip, thinking about how weird both Scott and Stiles had been acting towards Allison and I. I still didn't get a chance to talk to Scott about the whole Derek thing. Like Stiles said, I was pretty sure I didn't want to know. I rolled over and sighed one again, just wishing I could turn off my brain.

My eyes glanced down to my bracelet, the wolf charm being a constant reminder. I played with it for a little while, letting my mind go elsewhere. It wasn't until I heard footsteps walk past my door that I snapped out of it. They were sneaky footsteps so I knew exactly what they met. I ran up to my door and opened it, noticing Allison with her jacket and boots on.

''Where are you going?'' I asked, knowing Mum and Dad were downstairs probably in the study working.

''Just to the front, I'm waiting for Scott'' My eyebrows furrowed.

''His coming over? I thought-''

''Yeah, Mum said it was fine seeing as we are supposed to be studying for our biology test'' I just nodded my head, not entirely believing her.

''It's freezing outside'' I stated, my eyes glancing out the window to notice the fog on the glass due to the cold.

''I'll be fine Ave'' Allison laughed, walking down the stairs.

''How late is he?'' I sighed, knowing this was possibly the only reason Allison would happily stand outside in the cold.

''Only... 25 minutes...'' She stopped and mumbled. I rolled my eyes and followed her down the stairs.

''You don't have to...''

''Yes I do, if he's stood you up then I am going to kill him'' I stated half serious causing her to smile. We both made it down the stairs and towards the front door, I grabbed the jacket that was hanging on the stand and closed the door behind me. The cold air instantly hitting me as soon as we both stood outside.

''I'm older than you yet you're the protective one'' Ally says with a small chuckle. I laugh as well and lean into her side, wrapping an arm around her for body warmth.

''What are younger siblings for?'' We both laughed and talked about nothing and everything till we saw car lights drive up the driveway. A Porsche was right in front of us.

The only person who drove one of those at school was...

''Jackson, what are you doing here?''

♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦

word count: 4050 edited; not yet

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[rainbows-fanfics]

My New Reason (Chapter 12)

Chapter 1 |   Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Summary:  Louis is falling for someone he really shouldn’t be, and the same is happening to Clementine.  Lousentine/Clouis

Clementine's P.O.V. "I'll be back, okay? I promise I won't fuck around, so we won't take too long." Those would be horrible last words. For some reason, sending Louis off to scavenge outside of the safe zone was harder than I anticipated. I had frequent suspicions that something would go wrong whenever he left. But this morning, when I was wishing him luck and giving him my usual words of advice, something tightened in my chest. I could feel the recurring goosebumps on my neck; the ones that came before a storm. I recalled him catching this, recognizing my hesitancy while holding my hand. He gave me a firm squeeze and said those very words to me, with a look so soft that he reminded me of a small kitten. I had to swallow down my worries, the anxiety of what could happen, and let go of his hand. He kissed my forehead. It was a long, meaningful one - the silent message, to me, that he'd be careful. Then, he left. The last thing I saw was his figure disappearing into the woods. And the last thing I remember is feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders, accompanied by a cold swelling that encapsulated my heart. I was dealing with these thoughts, these suspicions - the growing concern that my boyfriend would not come back. That he would be bitten, injured, or abandoned. Like the people I've known in the past. I tried to get my mind off of it by practicing my archery and checking on the walls, but even that couldn't distract me from my fear. I was sitting beside A.J., watching him and Tennessee draw. I figured spending some time with my boy would ease my mind; get me to stop overthinking about my boyfriend's trip. It worked a little bit, but every time I saw A.J. smile, it reminded me of Louis. I tapped my knuckles on the wood, watching attentively as he worked on a drawing. This was another one of me and him, except now he was working on another figure in the picture. I was trying to see who it was, but his hand was blocking my view. I tapped my foot underneath the table in hopes that it would calm me down. Tenn noticed my fidgeting and laid down his pencil. "Hey, um, if you're worried them - th-they'll come back." "How do you know?" I asked. "Because they're smart. They always come back." "They're taking awhile. That's what worries me."

"Maybe it means the traps are full, and we'll be eating dinner tonight." He grabbed his pencil with a shrug. My eyes passed by his sketchbook. He was drawing a group of rabbits. Probably what he was hoping to see when they came back. I felt a tap on my arm and turned to the side, where I found A.J. holding his piece of paper up. I didn't hesitate to take it and look at what he had drawn. "This is great, kiddo." I looked at the trees and the tire swing. "You're getting better." "Yeah, but did you see who I added?" He pointed to the right to show the new addition. "It's Louis!" As my golden eyes traveled over the stick-like figure, I could see the similarities. Mostly by the hair and the trench coat. I couldn't fight the smile growing on my lips as I looked at the three of us. A.J. was holding my hand along with Louis. We were all smiling, and above us was the word (written the best he could manage): Family. My whole body tingled just reading it. "Wow, that's...that's really good. But why did you draw Louis?" "Well, he says we're 'Team Fun', but I like to think we're family. Like you said. So, I drew him with us." Tenn glanced over and showed his approval. "I think it looks great, A.J." "Not as good as yours." "Do you want to learn how to draw rabbits? I can show you." "Yeah, cool!" I noticed the two were started to do their own thing and decided to take my leave, bringing A.J.'s drawing with me. I made my way into the dorms and entered our room. I placed his drawing among the collection we made on the wall. This one I made sure was centered among them all. I took a step back once it was hung and looked at it in pride. I'll have to make sure Louis sees this when he gets back... Louis. The perturbed feeling came back to me as I thought of him. My thoughts went wild again, now wondering if he would even get to see what A.J. created. If he'd ever know that A.J. considered him family. Before my mind got depressive, I removed myself from the rooms and felt a mixture of fear and doubt swell in my body. I tried to conceal it the best I could while I passed by the others, but the moment I was alone, I clutched the sides of my head. "Get it together, Clementine." I muttered angrily to myself. "Nothing's going to happen. Just...calm down." I collapsed on the ground in defeat. I noticed I was sitting nearby a tree and grabbed my knife, angrily cutting into the bark before I could register my actions. I wasn't paying attention while I cut into the tree, but when I removed the blade, I realized I made something unintentionally. A heart. I looked back at my knife. Had I really made that unconsciously? In the midst of fear? Slowly, I went forward to carve into the lines some more. By this point it was legible on the tree. I decided to complete it, cutting my initial and Louis' inside the heart. When that was done, I stopped to look at my work. It was sloppy, but I was proud of it, nonetheless. "Wow. I should be an artist." Somehow, drawing that heart calmed me. And it was what probably beckoned me to make more. I went around finding trees around the school so I could carve hearts on them, with the initials and everything. I found that I was getting better drawing them by the time I finished. When I ran out of trees, I went to the tables outside and carved them on there, too. I don't know why I did all of this. It was somehow relaxing to keep my hands working. My mind just blanked when I made them, and I really needed that at a time like this. My impulsiveness was ahead of me because by this point I had drawn about 15 hearts. I stopped myself from dulling my blade altogether and returned it to its rightful spot. When I came around the corner of one building, I was stopped by someone nearly running into me. I realized right away that it was Louis. I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around him, squeezing tighter than I intended. I knew I was smiling, but I was oblivious to the tears running down my cheeks. "Fuck, you're back!" I didn't realize how excited I sound. It was almost like I haven't seen him for months. I felt his hand come around my back, where he leaned down to lay a kiss on my forehead again. The relief washed over me as he laughed. The sound made my heart skip a beat. "You sound disappointed," He teased. "I'm anything but." I squeezed him one more time before letting go. "What the hell took you guys so long?" "There's this rabbit family Aasim has been checking on. They're all grown-up now. Or, at least they were. We've got a full meal tonight." "Did anything happen? Any raiders? Psychos? Is everyone alright?" "We're all back in one piece." He tsked. "It was actually kind of boring. A few walkers came, but that was it. I didn't fuck around, as promised." I sighed. Thank God. "Well, thank you for being careful. I...was starting to get worried, actually." "Clementine? Worried about ME?" He felt my forehead. "Did you get sick while I was gone?" I swatted his hand away. "Come on, don't make me not miss you." "Why would you? I'm back." He grinned. "I was looking for you, actually. A.J. came to me, but you weren't there. I was a little worried." "I'm fine. Just decided to take a walk." I lied. "Well, let's take a walk back. So you can see our catch. Shit, you should see the size of the mom! Looks like she could feed two people." He turned to leave, but I grabbed his sleeve before he could. He turned back to me and I struggled finding the right words. Instead, I removed my hand to sit down on the grass and rest my back against the wall. I patted the spot beside me. "Let's spend some time together first." I insisted. "You were gone for hours, you know." I fluttered my eyelashes. He shook his head. "I can't say no to a face like that." He sat down next to me and rested Chairles on his side. I didn't realize he was holding it this whole time until now. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, moving my hand so it was on his chest. I missed him. I had no idea why, either. Maybe it was because I thought he wasn't going to come back at all. "So, anything interesting happen while I was gone?" He asked. "A.J. drew something for you. It's back in the room." "Shit, that's awesome! What is it?" "You're going to have to see for yourself." I heard him mutter a 'damn' and tried not to giggle. I held his hand with mine and used the other to feel around him. I eventually came to the wooden handle of Chairles, and swiped it without even thinking. I felt Louis stir, but he made no movement of protest. I turned to get a better look at the weapon, wondering if I should really go through with what I was thinking. Yeah. I totally should. I examined each side of Chairles as I twirled it around in my hand. After finding a spot to my satisfaction, I unsheathed my knife and cut into its surface. I heard Louis gasp and gag from beside me, but didn't stop. I could even see his hands hovering around me as I continued with my work. "Hey, excuse me, I'm technically as Chairles' father, and as such I am NOT permitting my child a tattoo! Not until he's 18!" "Well, that's just too bad, I guess." I had to suck in the laughter as I handed him back his weapon and my knife. "Go ahead and finish it." "Finish wha- Oh." He saw what I had carved on the side. It was a heart with my initial carved inside it, the spot next to it purposely left blank so he could fill in his own. I watched observantly as his eyes glossed over it before they darted over to mine. He hesitated by fidgeting with the handle of the knife, gripping Chairles tighter in his hand. Carefully, Louis took the edge of the blade and cut his initial into the wood. After that was done, he handed me back my knife and I returned it to its rightful place. I caught him inspecting his handiwork and took a hold of it myself. Our initials looked no different than the ones that were on the piano, or the ones I had carved on the trees and the tables, but this one held just as much significance to me. "Our potato looks great." I stated proudly. He sighed. "You're never going to let that die, are you?" "Nope." He shook his head and glanced back at the chair leg. He fingered the indents with his thumb and smiled softly. I wanted to tease him about getting splinters, but I found my own hand on top of the initials before I could. Then my fingers crossed over his, and we entwined them without even thinking. Our hands rested over the heart. His head lowered on top of mine where he rested his chin on top of my hat. I could hear him murmuring from above me. "I saw what you did, with the trees." He brought up. "That was...really cool." "You did?" "Well, yeah. I saw you carve our initials everywhere. That's actually how I found you - I was following the hearts." I flushed. I didn't know what I was expecting - I was practically marking them for the whole school to see. Everyone else has probably seen them by this point. I could just imagine Ruby swearing, Mitch writing over them, or Aasim rolling his eyes and writing about it in his diary. They all probably thought Louis made them, which made it even more hilarious. "Yeah. I got a little carried away." I admitted. "I kind of missed you while you were gone, so that was how I kept myself busy." "You know, I was worried about you. You were acting off when I left. But now I know you just missed me." He grinned cheekily. I huffed."-As much as I hate to admit it...you're right." "Naturally." "But I was worried about you getting hurt, or bitten, or dying. Or, anything, I really." I looked away from him. "I had that feeling again, and I thought it was going to be right. But it wasn't." "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I tripped on a rock and ran into a tree." "No, it doesn't." I moved so I was in front of him, resting my head on the side of his neck. "But I'm glad you're okay." We remained like that for awhile, my arms wrapped around him and my head in the crook of his shoulder. I laid a trail of kisses on his neck that led to his jaw. It felt nice to be touching him again, hearing his voice. Even if he was saying stupid stuff. "Should I start kissing you before I leave?" He teased. "So you're not worrying that I'm going to die a horrible death when I'm not here?" I blushed. "Don't ruin this moment, okay?" "Gotcha'." "...It would be nice, though..." He moved my head from his shoulder and tipped it so my eyes met with his. We went closer to each other without even thinking, and our lips locked naturally. Kissing him happened so often now that it was like a new instinct of mine. As my lips brushed against his, I let out a moan in relief - relief that I could be kissing him again, alive, and in one piece. His hand came to my neck and pulled me closer so our bodies were touching. I was still melting from that kiss, holding the sides of his shoulders with a smile. The stress and fear was gone. Now I was happy again. While I could be, at least. He tugged gently at my pigtails, sending pleasant goosebumps down my body. "Oh, and that drawing A.J. made..." I brought up. "It's of the three of us. He said he drew his family." "Wait, I'm in there?" He asked. "Yeah. He drew us holding his hands." I grabbed his for good measure. "We all look pretty happy." "...Shit..." He sounded surprised. "I- he really....Clem?" "Yeah?" "I love you. And--And A.J." He used both of his arms to hold me closer. "So much..." I lowered my eyes, brushing his dreads to the side so I could kiss his forehead. "We love you, too."

[devotedlydeepeststrawberry]

What I think happened to Wally?(or 'What I wish for, but it will not happen.')

I want for Wally West from YJ and Wally West from JL/JLU(cartoon) to be the same person.

WARNING: This will be rather long and I don't know how to add 'keep reading' on the app...SOMEBODY HELP! Also ignore the fact JL came before YJ.

First, why I want that?

Wally would be still alive and an even better(and he would be faster) hero than before + at least that's how I undertood it, the new season of YJ is about dimension travel, so they can get trapped in the JLU dimension and have a reunion.

Second, what I think happened?

The tornado(or whatever it was they needed to stop) could have been created with techology the Light stole from another dimension, which so happened to be the JL/JLU dimension. When Wally 'ceased to exist' in Endgame, what Scarab really felt was Wally's power getting draind and transported(to a different time in the JL dimension). However, while they where trasporting Wally's DNA changed to match the weird tornado and he got deaged(so he was about 10 to 12 years old). When he got to the JL world his whole body hurt, he was confused and his memories where messed up. He used the last bit of his energy to run to where Barry's house was in their dimensiom to ask for help. But it wasn't Barry who opened. When the person asked Wally who he was, against his better judgment Wally answered with his 'real' name 'Wally West' and then he lost conciousness. The person called the police and ambulance because there was a freaking 12 year old in yellow spandex laying on his porch. Before the ambulance arived Wally's body changed. His new powers (making stuff explode when vibrating and other stuff that he could do in JL/JLU) were too strong for his body and mind. They were slowly killing him. So to save him the powers deactivated themself. That affected Wally's brain. His memories were erased, leaving only a few fragments of memories of his past life, like his adoration for his uncle, the forensic and hero(reason why he became both of it as well), however they weren't enough for Wally to find out who he really was. When he woke up from his coma, nobody could identify him, so he was send to an orphanage in Central City. There was an investigation but it was dropped quickly since Wally had no memories and there were zero clues. Wally ended up living a relative normal life, finishing high school and university and getting a job as a forensic in Central. Then he got hit by lightning(as shown in JL s1 ep12) and his powers got activated again, but he still didn't have his memories until 'Divided we fall' where when he disappeard he actually almost went back home. He got all of his memories back and saw how his world turned out in the years he wasn't there. And even tough he wanted to go back, the moment Shareya and rest called out him, he realized his world doesn't need him, it already had 2 speedsters. So with a broken heart he decided to stay in the JL/JLU dimension. For now.

And finally, why I think it would hold up?(from nit-picky to a little more believable.)

Kid Flash suit and Jay Garrick's helmet were shown in the Flash museum even tough there was never a Kid Flash or another Flash. Wally might have recreated those items to remember where he came from and the people there. Something like souvenir.

The fact that JL Wally doesn't seem to have a family. He does mention 'grammy Flash' and his uncle and mom. But we never see them. Not even when he said that they are coming to see him on Flash day, not even for a second, we even didn't see somebody who could resamble him. And he really wanted that atleast Batman comes Central to see him. Plus, it seems that he spends a lot of his time at an orphanage. Even in the Christmas episodes he, was at the orphanage or trying to get them a present. He didn't call anyone nor gave anybody else a present.

His flirting decreased after Divided we fall.(This can also be charater development) In previous episodes, even in the one ep he was in Superman: TAS he was flirting(even with Louis Lane) without shame. However after 'Divided' he was nervous to talk to Fire and he almost completly ignored Linda, and both of them were clearly flirting and interested in him. This can be because he remembered Artemis and he feels like he is cheating on her or he didn't get over her.

His job. In the comics, Wally has never shown interest in chemistry or science. But in JL he is a forensic and in YJ he recreated the experiment wich gave Barry his powers. In his garage. From Barry's notes he saw for a few minutes. Both YJ and JL Wally are good at chemistry, wich is weird because besides them there is not a single version of Wally interested nor a version who cares about science.

What he said in 'Divided we fall'.

"Shayera, it's so beautiful here. There is a force, a Speedforce. It's calling me home. I have to go now."

And

"I can never go that fast again. If I do, I don't think I'm coming back."

He said it like he was tired, or he can also be sad. Besides that, this doesn't really make sense in context of the show or any other media. What can be so beautiful in the Speedforce? What home is Wally talking about? And the fact that he said 'I don't think I'm coming back' instead of 'I don't think I will be able to come back.' It seems like it is Wally's decision to stay there.

That's it. Thank you for reading.