#it looks like heavily managed two dog home might be a thing in our future cause aayla moght be 10-11 dealing with a 1-2 year old teenager.

[theadventurek9]

Screams in adult again

This time because it looks like moving in a few months might not happen and having to once again tell breeders 'not this litter' when you told them you thought you were going to be ready.

Sometimes I wish I was an unresponsible adult.

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 7]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Pussy Spanking, Thigh Fucking, Shallow Fucking, Creampie, There’s Only One Bed Scenario, Dark Themes

||Sugar and Spice Masterlist||

***

With how beautiful the sunset had been, and how romantic Kyōjurō had been acting, (Y/n) never expected that the night would take a turn for the worse. It was so bad that she was stressing out about it, even though she was completely taken care of at the Rengoku clan’s mountain villa.

She had a nice yukata to sleep in, and all the food that she could want in the kitchen, and people at her beck and call— if she even chose to ask for their help with anything.

The only problem was that she knew her mother was going to be furious once she got home.

Kyōjurō had taken the liberty to call her mother while (Y/n) was taking a shower— ‘to relax’ as the blond had said, before practically pushing her into the bathroom— to explain that he wouldn’t be able to bring her home, since it had begun to rain heavily. Heavy enough to pose as a hazard for driving down the dirt road.

If he wanted, he could have an off-roading vehicle sent to get them, but he wasn’t alone. He didn’t want to risk getting (Y/n) into an accident, when they could just wait things out until the morning.

That, and he figured that it would be nice to actually spend the night with her… and maybe give her a bit of pleasure, since they had been disturbed earlier.

Safe to say that (L/n) Akari wasn’t happy with how the situation had panned out, and had been about to lash out at Kyōjurō. Until, of course, he finally lost the polite and cheerful façade— after checking if (Y/n) was still in the bathroom.

Slowly, Kyōjurō sat down on the end of the bed in his room, before loosening his tie and stretching out his neck. He took his sweet time in making the older woman wait for his response to her threat of having (Y/n) fetched; especially when the venom in her voice suggested that a lecture was the least that she would give (Y/n).

He feared that Akari might even keep heaping on more political tasks on to (Y/n), all to keep her from seeing him. It wasn’t a secret that she didn’t like him for her daughter, after all.

“Don’t forget, (L/n)-san, I…” Kyōjurō began softly, with a sharp edge to his tone that warned his future mother-in-law to listen well to his words. “…can take away everything you love, if you break our agreement. It would be best if you remembered that the moment that my family put you where you are, you signed your life over to me.”

Silence reigned over the line for a couple of minutes, with Kyōjurō relishing in how he had managed to slowly protect (Y/n) from her own mother.

Of course, he knew just how horrible and selfish the woman was. It was why he wondered just how his cute future wife turned out so well. And maybe it was his own fault, but he had delved even further into the file he had on her, and couldn’t help but be completely enamored.

However, he was ill-prepared for the intensity of the real thing. She was so much more than he had thought she would be, especially after he had hung out with her a few times.

“I think it would be best if you cleared my wife’s schedule, and start letting her get to know her future husband better,” Kyōjurō continued after fully undoing his tie— letting it hang around his neck, as he finished up his conversation. “After all, she won’t be living under your roof in a few months.”

With that, he dropped the call and tossed his phone onto the bed. He then heaved a heavy sigh, letting the air fill his lungs, as he closed his eyes and exhaled all of his tension away.

He didn’t want (Y/n) to see that side of him; ever, if he could help it.

“Kyōjurō?” The aforementioned woman’s soft voice rang out from the bathroom and when he looked up, he had to immediately make an effort to not let his tongue hang out like a dog, as she looked so enticing in that red yukata that he’d had someone to get for her. “I’m done. You can take a bath now.”

And with that sweet smile she aimed right at him? Partnered with how cute she looked with her hair still a little damp? He really had to try to keep himself in check.

After all, he didn’t want her to think that he was a monster; in all senses of the word.

***

(Y/n) wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up the way she had, but it was too late to ask that question. Especially with Kyōjurō smelling so good behind her, while his right arm was wrapped around her middle— with his feet intertwined with hers.

She had tried to ask why they were sleeping in one bed, but all she had gotten from that was a simple ‘the other rooms are locked, and I already sent the head maid home’. It was a poor excuse, but she chose to just buy it— instead of fighting Kyōjurō and dampening the good day that they’d had together.

After all, it was all innocent cuddling… at least at first. As the minutes ticked by, Kyōjurō’s hand had begun caressing up and down her stomach, until it drifted lower to her pelvis.

She could feel his fingers toying with the seam of the yukata— slowly bunching up the material, until she could feel her pussy get even more exposed than it already was; what with her going commando beneath the garment.

“You’re not asleep. Are you, princess?” Kyōjurō whispered in her ear; the words making her feel warm down to her bones, even though the air held a biting chill that came with the rain pouring outside. “I want to make you feel… amazing.”

The way that Kyōjurō breathed out the last word had her clenching her thighs together— and the movement didn’t go unnoticed like she had wanted it to. So, she found herself paying for it with Kyōjurō leaning in even closer and teasingly nipping at her ear.

(Y/n) had it in her mind to say no at first, only to change her tune when the blond finally let his hand cup her pussy; dragging his middle finger up her slit and finding that she was already wet.

In her defense, it was because he smelled so good and felt so amazing against her— especially with his erection brushing against her ass every once in a while.

“Oh? Did I already make you this wet, baby?” Instead of answering, however, (Y/n) merely bit down on her tongue and closed her eyes— especially when Kyōjurō pressed two fingers to her clit, before beginning to circle them around the sensitive nub.

The action had (Y/n)’s hips bucking involuntarily, which brought a grin to Kyōjurō’s lips as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Come on, baby girl. Tell me that you want to feel good too.”

But when silence kept hanging in the air, the blond lifted his fingers from her cunt— all so he could bring them down on her sensitive flesh. The spank was weak, compared to what he could have done, but it elicited his desired reaction.

He wasn’t done though, and landed another light spank on his lover��s cunt. It had her hips bucking once more, while a quiet and breathless moan escaped her lips. And finally, a really enticing, “Please make me feel good, Kyōjurō.”

“Good girl.”

His dick could only get harder once he pressed it up against (Y/n)’s ass— relishing in the feel of her warmth beneath the yukata, as he bunched the hem of it up. And once it was already out of the way, Kyōjurō gently wedged his calf between her own calves— if only to lift her leg up the tiniest fraction for what he wanted to do.

Once that was all settled, the blond freed his cock from his own yukata; holding his length at the base and guiding the tip up to start rubbing it up and down her slit.

He smeared his precum all over her pussy, focusing on circling his head at her clit, and really drinking in the quiet and pleased moans that kept flowing from (Y/n)’s mouth— which only got louder when he pressed the top of his dick flush against her pussy to coat it with her wetness.

And, knowing that was barely enough lubrication, the blond lifted his right hand up to (Y/n)’s mouth. He then pressed the tips of three digits to her lips, prompting her to open her mouth— which she did. All the while, he kept rubbing his dick against her pussy, so tempted to just push into her pussy, but wanting to make her extra needy for him before he gave in to his own urges and fucked her.

“Get them nice and wet, princess.” He’d have tried to make her wetter by playing with her nipples, but he had slid his arm under her head earlier— for her to use as a pillow— so it was laying there, much to his regret.

When his fingers were already wet, he pulled them out of her spent mouth and pressed a kiss to her cheek once more. All while he brought his hand down and used his spit-laden fingers to get his cock even wetter.

The moment that he had managed to get his cock relatively wet, he removed his leg from between (Y/n)’s own pair— moaning aloud when her thighs clamped down tighter around his dick. “Oh, fuck, baby.”

Kyōjurō wasted no time then, placing his hand back on (Y/n)’s clit and playing with it— circling, rubbing, pinching, and gently tugging on the sensitive nub— while he moved his hips to start fucking her thighs. It was made hotter and easier with how her wet she kept getting for him— enough to coat his cock and her thighs entirely with her juices.

That wasn’t the best part, however; it was when Kyōjurō pulled back a little bit too far and had accidentally pushed the tip of his cock inside her pussy— out of reflex.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Kyōjurō cursed through breathless moans, deciding to torture himself even more and push just the head of his cock inside her tight pussy. And he begun to thrust shallowly in her, losing himself in ecstasy just from that.

And he almost lost control and pushed in to the hilt, until he felt (Y/n)’s legs beginning to quiver, while her moans steadily got shakier and shakier. “Please, Kyō! Please fuck me!”

He had half a mind to finally give in to his own needs, but he managed to sway himself from that decision at the last minute. Instead, he began to rub (Y/n)’s clit faster— which had her ultimately coming apart around the head of his cock.

Her entrance was clamping down on him so amazingly, and he could feel her walls fluttering around what part of him was inside her, which made it so hard to pull out and only thrust in only up to the end of the head of his cock.

Kyōjurō felt himself getting so close to his orgasm, losing himself so much in (Y/n)— that he had even leaned down to start sucking hickeys onto the spot behind her ear just to last a little bit longer.

However, the pleasure finally got the better of him and had him instinctively pushing his entire length inside (Y/n)’s sopping cunt. All sorts of curses ricocheted within his head at that, but he didn’t regret what had happened.

Especially when he came so hard and filled her up so well, with his dick buried in her to the hilt.

There went his plans of making her crazy for him but, oddly enough, he couldn’t shake the feeling that what had happened just felt right to him. If she got pregnant from it, then he was prepared to raise their child together— no other thoughts or trepidations swirling around in his mind, like they had before.

With (Y/n) next to him, he felt that he could conquer the world.

Besides, little did he know that she was well on her way to getting positively crazy for him. Addicted: heart, body, and soul.

Especially with the way that she had overheard him standing up for her against her mother.

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (9/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 19,386

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

IX: 1987

-

It wasn't Jamie at Thanksgiving.

Jamie bringing Mikey. Jamie being charming. Jamie seated at the table with the whole family as though she’d never left. It wasn’t the way Dani had sat two seats down from her, wishing she could be close enough that their legs pressed together beneath the table, and in turn resenting herself for desiring such a thing in the first place. Here. Where Dani was surrounded by her fiancé and her future in-laws. Burying her nose in her wine glass against her better judgement until by the end of the night she had felt off-kilter, until she had needed to retreat to the bathroom to splash her face with cold water and sit atop the toilet seat with her head buried in her hands just to be alone for two minutes.

It wasn't Eddie's announcement that he'd booked the botanical gardens as their wedding venue for the next year.

Eddie telling her proudly after work one evening. Eddie listing off all the ways the venue suited their requirements. Eddie expecting her to be relieved that he’d taken such initiative to lift this burden from her shoulders, to allow her to focus on things like flower arrangements, and bridesmaids, and card stock for invitations. Dani had taken the news in stride. Her smile had been broad enough to pull at the seams until she felt like she might split open. She had let him kiss her on the cheek and take her out to dinner. She had let him place his coat around her shoulders, let him place his hand at the small of her back, let him place his hand on her knee the whole ride home.

It wasn’t even her mother dragging her off to Davenport on the weekend to try on wedding dresses.

The long car ride. Her mother in the driver’s seat, while Dani had tried to avoid conversation by staring at scenery through the window. Karen picking at every detail of the dresses that Dani had lingered over – this was too long, this was too ivory, this revealed too much of her back. Dani had let Karen speak with the store attendant instead, walking along a row of sumptuous dresses – innumerable yards of lustrous silk and satin, of muslin, velvet and lace – and unable to imagine herself in a single one. And after lunch, Dani had walked along the riverbank, gazing out across the sun-glinted water, and had thought faintly to herself that this was as close as she’d ever been to the state border. Wondered if she tried to sprint across the bridge, if she would be flung back, pulled by some greater gravity.

It was her car dying. That was what finally did it.

She'd had to call a tow, and Roger Simmons had let her hop into the passenger's seat with a kind smile as he dragged her car behind his truck all the way to the shop. The mechanic spoke like a coroner, coldly addressing what had done the old girl in, while Dani listened, hearing only a high whine in her ears, rising in pitch. In the end, Eddie had to come and pick her up to drive her home. She went in a daze, Jamie's coat draped over her shoulders, a wad of bills clenched in her fist – cash exchanged for scrap metal — and the box of precious things tucked beneath her crossed elbows.

It was the sleepless nights that followed. 

It was waking up to sounds of drumming against the walls, a hollow noise, a hollow bang, as though from a fury with an iron glove. And it was waking up again with a jerk, a cold sweat, clutching at her throat and struggling to breathe through the fading nightmare of a rope coiled and snapping taut. Outside, a car in the predawn dark would pace the restless streets, headlamps like eyes lighting up the blue dimity curtains of their bedroom window in passing. 

And Eddie slept through it all. Shivering with cold, Dani would curl up against his broad back, wrap an arm around him and lie awake until her body slowly warmed against his, until the rising sun began to tint the world a pallid ghostly grey. By the next morning, she would remember nothing of the terror. Only the cold. The deep and gripping cold. 

“Not to be rude or anything,” said Jamie, “but you look like absolute dog shit.”

Now, standing in the doorway to Jamie’s house, Dani laughed. An honest slightly maddened laugh. It was Sunday morning, and Dani could not remember a time when she had felt more tired. She held a bag of food from Owen's that she barely recalled picking up earlier. There was the impression of wandering all that way, as though sleep walking, drifting down the familiar streets and hardly registering the fact that her feet were carrying her to a predetermined destination. As though an internal compass had an arm fixed firmly and pointing towards Jamie.

"Thanks," Dani said when she finally managed to stop laughing — just on this side of hysterics — wiping at the corners of her eyes and smiling weakly.

Jamie stepped aside to let her in and shut the door behind her. "Have you not been sleeping? And where's your car?"

Dani had to swallow back a tightness in her throat. "I sold it," she said, taking off her shoes and setting them to one side. "It died and I sold it."

"Sorry to hear that,” said Jamie and she sounded genuine. “But, hey. If you ever want advice buying a new one and don't know what to look for, I can help."

Dani didn't want a new car. She didn't want any car that wasn't purely her own and nobody else's. A car bought with a joint account. A car chosen on someone else's recommendation — no matter how sensible. None of it was sensible; she didn't want sensible. She wanted to go back to 1981 and purchase a car that let her feel — for the first time in too long a time — free.

There was a gentle touch at her elbow, and Dani tensed. She turned to find Jamie watching her with a kindly expression. "You want a cup of tea?" Jamie asked. "Only — it looks like you need one."

Dani's mouth opened, then shut again. She nodded, drawing in a deep breath. Her morning cup of coffee — Eddie had made it, insisting it was his turn — was a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. The only effect it seemed to have had was increasing her heart rate and leaving her bereft of the ability to sit still without feeling like she was going to self-destruct.

She followed Jamie into the kitchen, answering Jamie's questions with half-phrases and murmurs, distracted by the glance of light through the windows, by the way it seemed to cast Jamie all in bronze. A statue breathed into with life as though by an artist’s hands. Somewhere along the way, Dani had dropped her purse to the floor and sat at one of the bar stools, resting her cheek heavily in one hand.

Jamie set the kettle on a back coil and frowned over at her. "It's only nine, you know. You sure you don't want to have a quick nap before our usual torture via sci fi?"

Dani tried to imagine sleeping on the couch while Jamie puttered around the kitchen, and knew it would be impossible. She shook her head. "Thanks, but your couch is very sunny."

Indeed, the couch was sun-bathed and bright, just visible in the other room. The idea of sleeping there, waking up sweltering where anyone could walk by the house and see her, made her stomach turn. 

"Doesn't have to be the couch," Jamie said. "I've a perfectly good bed upstairs."

Dani’s head jerked back. She pointed towards the stairs and said, “You mean — yours?” 

"Yeah, unless you want the kid's room," Jamie opened up a cupboard and took out a tin full of tea bags. "Trust me. You don't."

“If - If that’s okay,” Dani said, voice rising in inflection like a question. 

Jamie set down the tin. “Said it was, didn’t I? C’mon. Up you get.” She started towards the stairs and gestured for Dani to follow her. 

For a moment Dani stayed seated at the counter. She could say no, and Jamie would let her. Jamie wouldn’t insist. Jamie would go back to making tea and small talk until Mikey wandered down for breakfast and television. 

Scraping back the stool, Dani stood and trailed after her. Jamie didn’t glance back as they climbed the stairs together. Dani kept a hand on the wood-painted railing all the way up as though the earth might pitch beneath her feet. When they reached the landing, Jamie held up a finger to her lips and pointed at Mikey’s shut door, the two of them slipping past, and then Jamie was pushing open the door to her room.

With a sense of unreality, Dani stepped inside. Her memories of Jamie’s personal space always involved mess, a sort of organized chaos. The years had dampened that only somewhat. A few of Jamie’s clothes were still strewn across the floor and clutter accumulated on the dresser, but the bed was made and the air had that recently vacuumed smell. The curtains were drawn, admitting only a faint sliver of light from the far wall so that the room was pleasantly warm and dark. 

Giving Jamie a furtive and apologetic shrug, Dani stepped towards the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jamie said from the doorway as Dani sat on the edge of the mattress, nearest the window. 

“Don’t,” said Dani, “let me sleep too long.”

Jamie smiled at her. “Go on. Get some kip,” she said, and pulled the door quietly shut behind her. 

Dani listened to Jamie’s footsteps retreating back down the hall. She didn’t realize she was gripping a corner of the sheets in a fist until she felt a dull ache in her hand. Clasping her hands together in her lap, she sat there and stared at the drawn curtains. 

This side of the bed had no side table. Then again, Jamie had always preferred the right side of the bed. Somehow that simple knowledge was like a thrilling secret. Dani glanced over at that side, at the half empty glass of water and the faded novel and the pocket knife. Sitting up slightly, Dani tugged out the sheets and slipped beneath them, not bothering to get undressed. 

Somehow this was worse than the couch. She was a voyeur in her own skin. Every motion seemed performed outside of herself, viewed by a camera lens through a keyhole. Dani sprawling across the mattress. Dani twisting up in the sheets. Dani pressing her face into the pillows and inhaling deeply. Dani pulling the covers up until her head was all but covered, until she was wrapped up in the familiar warmth and smell, until the sleepless nights came rushing over her, dragging her down, down into the vasty deep. 

She awoke to the sounds of voices, distant through the door and down the stairs. Blearily she blinked and squinted around the room. The first thing she registered was that the bed was oriented incorrectly; it should have been up against the other wall. And the voices weren’t quite right either. There was the distinct lack of a Scottish burr. 

Because it wasn’t 1978, and she wasn’t at the railway cottage, and Ruth Heron had been dead for over a decade.

Five more minutes, she thought muzzily to herself. Just five more minutes and she would wake up. 

Five minutes came and went. Head still buried in a pillow, Dani lifted her arm to check her wristwatch. Thirty-five minutes, in fact. She couldn’t remember falling asleep again. Only that she couldn’t think of a time when she wanted to wake up less. Only that Jamie’s bed was far more comfortable than her own, and that even after all these years she could with confidence say she much preferred it. 

Pushing herself upright, Dani fumbled with the skin-warm covers. She was swinging her legs over the side of the bed and running a hand through her sleep-mussed hair when she heard a gentle tap on the door.

“You decent?” Jamie’s voice asked from the other side. 

Dani’s fingers curled at the hem of her skirt. She said, “Come in.”

The doorknob turned slowly and Jamie poked her head in before the rest of her followed. “Feeling better?” she asked, shutting the door behind her.

Dani lifted her head slightly, remaining perched on the edge of the mattress, angled away from the door. “A little.”

Jamie’s footsteps padded closer and behind her Dani could feel the bed sink down slightly beneath a new weight. She stared down at her own bare ankles. A slit of light through the curtains lapped against the carpet, so that it seemed her feet were underwater. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A precarious lock of hair fell into Dani’s eyes, and she raked it back with both hands. Her fingers remained tangled there, slumping down so that her wrists rested against her shoulders and she held onto the back of her neck. 

“It wasn’t half mine,” she said finally after a long pause. “The car, I mean. It wasn’t half my car. It was just - just mine. Nobody had to lend it to me, or share it with me, or withhold it from me, or - It’s silly, I know. I’m being silly.” 

“You’re not.”

Hesitantly, Dani twisted round. Jamie had moved up the bed so that she was leaning easily against the headboard, propped against a pillow. One leg hung over the side of the mattress, and the other was bent at the knee. Ten years ago, Dani would have sank down beside her, would have rested her head in Jamie’s lap or on the perch of Jamie’s shoulder. Now the spread of sheets between them might as well have been the breadth of the Atlantic. 

“It’s not silly,” Jamie continued, “wanting something that’s just yours. Not at all.” 

“I have this.” 

The words spilled out of her before she could properly think over their implications, and Dani rushed to clarify. 

“Sundays,” Dani said. “I have - I have my Sundays back, I guess.”

“Not really just yours though, are they?”

“What do you mean?”

Jamie smiled softly and gestured to herself. “Well, I’m here. Taking up your precious Sunday time.”

Dani’s mouth felt dry. “Yeah,” she murmured. “But that’s -” 

She didn’t say: ‘different.’ She didn’t say: ‘what I want.’ She meant it, though, and the words hung unspoken between them. 

Dangerous, Dani thought. Being here — in Jamie’s bed, still tired, still muddled from sleep, the truth on the tip of her tongue — was dangerous. 

Jamie looked away and Dani found she could breathe properly again. She cleared her throat as Jamie moved to stand up without doing so. Gesturing to the bed, Jamie said, “You can keep sleeping, if you want. I can tell the kid to keep it down and do homework, and you can sleep.”

“No,” said Dani faintly, then with more strength, “No, I want to wake up.”

 --

It was far too early in the morning to be teaching children songs to a nativity play. Dani stood at the front of the otherwise empty auditorium with her class, clutching a cup of coffee that she had smuggled out of the teacher’s lounge. It was ten days until Christmas, and not a single one of these kids was ready to perform at the school play. Bless them.

Dani winced when the tune slid distinctly south of the intended key. With a fortifying sip of coffee on her tongue, she shook her head and raised one hand. “Okay, stop! Please! Let’s start from the top again, all right?”

She shot a plaintive look towards Ms. Reeves, who was by this time an institution in and of herself. Ms. Reeves was also the only competent pianist at the school and could sight-read sheet music. With a nod, Ms. Reeves pushed up her thick tortoise shell glasses and struck a chord to orient the kids back to the beginning of the song.

It did not go any better than last time. Not even with Dani slowing them all down and singing various sections by herself, so they could hear the difference. That didn’t seem to help much. If anything, the kids were adamant that she could keep singing so they could just listen and whittle down the clock until freedom. And she couldn’t blame them. She herself kept checking her wristwatch, wondering how many minutes until she was free from the purgatory of work so close to the holidays. 

“You know,” she told them once they’d finished, “I’m not the one that’s going to be singing in front of all your parents.”

“But you’re much better at singing, Miss Clayton.”

“Yeah, you should just do the performance for us. We’ll be back up dancers.”

Dani gave a snort of laughter and rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s very flattering, but ultimately unhelpful. And it’s definitely not happening. So, we’re going to practise again tomorrow. All right?”

A chorus of whines answered. Dani held up a hand and began shooing them off the stage, “I don’t want to hear it. This is your only homework this week. So, you’re welcome. Go. Go on.”

It did not take much urging. They went with talk amongst themselves, shared excitement and laughter at being let free. One or two of them gave her a wave in passing. 

“Bye, Miss Clayton.”

Dani smiled. “Bye, Mikey. See you later.”

Mikey trotted after a small group of his friends, shouldering his star-splashed backpack. At the piano, Ms. Reeves was shuffling together the sheet music and stashing it in the compartment hidden in the seat before she too shuffled towards the exit, trailing after the children.

Still on stage, Dani called out after her, “Thank you, Ms. Reeves! I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

No sooner had the door shut behind her however, than it opened again. Dani, who had begun cleaning up after the kids — the last thing the janitor needed was to sweep this whole place when it would just take a few minutes of her time to pick up the bits of litter that seemed to accumulate wherever a pack of children roamed — glanced up, expecting to see that perhaps one of her students had left something behind. Instead, Hannah walked into the auditorium, her heels clicking against the polished floors. 

“Oh, hi!” Dani greeted with an absentminded smile, even as she ducked down and tucked a few crumpled wrappers into her pocket for disposal later. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Just doing the rounds,” said Hannah. “Finished some paperwork early.”

“Lucky you,” Dani drawled. She dropped down to one knee and reached under a stand to fish out a piece of paper that had been left behind. Someone’s old homework, no doubt. “I still have to -” she pushed herself upright, careful not to spill what remained of her coffee “- enter last week’s tests into the system. Good grief, how do they always leave so much trash everywhere? They were only here for forty minutes.”

Hannah climbed the stairs to join her on stage, the two of them arrayed like actors before an absent audience. “So, how many ear plugs should I bring this year?” she asked.

“At least two pairs for you and me,” Dani answered, sharing a small smile with her.

“Nothing for your beau? I didn’t think you the type to let him suffer alone.”

Dani laughed. She folded up the page of old homework and slipped it into her pocket. “This isn’t one of the events he’ll want to come to. Trust me.”

Hannah cocked her head to one side. “And what of Miss Taylor?”

Taken aback, Dani blinked and fumbled for a response. “Jamie? Well, she’s not - I mean - We’re just friends.”

Hannah gave her an odd look. “Of course. I was only asking if she would be attending to see her brother.” 

“Right,” said Dani. “Yeah. Yeah, she’ll be here.” 

When Hannah simply watched her curiously, Dani tucked a lock of hair behind one ear and sipped at her near empty cup of coffee. It had gone completely cold and bitter, despite the copious amounts of sugar and creamer she had added earlier. 

“Have you worked out the catering yet?” Dani asked. Anything to fill the dead space, to divert Hannah’s too clever, too perceptive, too gentle gaze. 

The corner of Hannah’s mouth quirked in a knowing smile, but all she said was, “Yes. I thought I’d take your advice, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been in touch with the owner of that cafe in town,” Hannah said. “And Owen has gladly agreed to be the school’s supplier for the after show event.” 

“Owen , huh?” Dani repeated, grinning. “Not Mr. Sharma?” 

“Shall we play that game, Miss Clayton?” Hannah said, and though her tone was light the look she shot Dani was warning. 

Clearing her throat, Dani turned the empty cup between her hands and glanced away. “Point taken,” she said weakly.

For a moment she feared that Hannah would press. A shiver of utter dread wormed its way up Dani’s throat, locking her jaw in place like a coroner’s wire sewn through the gaps in her teeth. Hannah knew. If not the specifics, Hannah knew something. She had seen the flowers. She had seen Dani and Jamie interacting at school events and camping trips. She had seen Dani spiraling at the Halloween fair, had calmed her down in the shadow of the old brick building, and sat with her until Dani could gather the pieces of herself together again. It’s all right , she had said. It’s all right. 

And even though Hannah said nothing now, the words hung between them. They were alone in the school auditorium, on stage before an empty crowd, and Dani could not shake the feeling that if she looked up, there would be a bucket teetering in the rafters over her head. 

“Do you have any plans for the holidays, dear?”

The question was so casual it took Dani a moment to register that Hannah had once again allowed her to slip away, unscathed and unnoticed. 

“Just the usual,” Dani said. “Home with my mother and the future in-laws.”

“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

Dani smiled. Something. Yeah. It sure was. Another year at Judy’s house. The last year until she was another Mrs. O’Mara in a family full of Mrs. O’Maras. 

“And you?” Dani asked. 

With a sigh and a one-shouldered shrug, Hannah said, “The holidays are always quiet for me. I left my life back in England, when I came to America.” 

“Why not,” Dani gestured with the cup towards the auditorium at large, “go back? Don’t you ever travel anymore?” 

“Oh,” said Hannah, sounding surprised. “Not really, no. Apart from coming here. But that was a bit of a spur of the moment decision to follow -” she cleared her throat and whatever she had been about to say was replaced instead by, “Well, to follow a job opportunity, I suppose.”

“Do you miss it?” Dani asked. “Home, I mean?”

Hannah smiled gently. “Is it home, I wonder? I cannot say. I miss people. But — well. I have people here now, don’t I?” And she grasped Dani’s arm with a brief warm touch. 

Dani blinked in surprise. “Of course. Yeah. You know, you could - you could come over. If you wanted.”

“That’s very kind of you, but not this year, I think.”

“Hey,” said Dani softly, and she reached out as if to grasp Hannah by the elbow, to return the gesture, only to let her hand fall back to her side instead. “I know I call you ‘Mrs. Grose’ and all that, but that’s not — I think of you as a friend.”

“Does that mean I can expect to receive a wedding invitation?” Hannah asked slyly, avoiding Dani’s well-meaning American earnestness with all the finesse of an Englishwoman incapable of stomaching such bald sincerity. 

Dani laughed. “I’ll make sure to sign the invitation myself.” 

“Very good.”

“So,” Dani nudged Hannah’s foot with her own, “Next year? Christmas? You’ll come over?”

Hannah chuckled warmly. “Next year.”

 --

There was a blanket of snow across the ground and Dani had elected to wear heels. Simple navy dress shoes. Just enough to give her an extra two inches of height and match her outfit. The moment she opened the car door and was met with a bank of snow along the curb side, she scrunched up her nose and weighed up her chances at being able to step over it. Her skirt probably wouldn’t give her the range of movement.

She was still pushing at the quirks of her gloves, when Eddie said from the driver’s seat, “I got it.”

He stepped out of the car, door slamming behind him, and rounded the car so that he could kick a path through the snow for her. Then, holding out his hand, he grinned. “Think Mark will hire me as the new plough driver?”

“You missed your calling,” Dani replied. She took his hand, giving it a grateful squeeze and allowing herself to be pulled up and out of the car.

“Well, if this council role fails, at least I have that.”

He didn’t bother locking the car as they made their way up the street towards his parent’s house. Dani kept her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, shoulders hunched up and huddled beneath her jacket. The pavement had been salted and was bare of snow or ice. Great plumes of white feathered the night air with every breath. Dani shivered.

“God, I can’t wait for spring,” she muttered under her breath.

He chuckled, then took her hand and pressed it into his pocket, wrapped up in his hand for warmth. “You could’ve just worn boots, you know,” Eddie said. “I hear ski jumpsuits are very chic nowadays.”

“I think my mother would kill me.”

“We could write Dior across the back with a bedazzler. That way she couldn’t complain.”

Dani snorted with laughter before she could stop herself, biting back a wide grin. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “You’re almost as bad as Jamie.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

By some miracle, Dani didn’t slip even once on the short walk to the front door. She ran a quick hand across her hair to ensure it was still coiffed to perfection while Eddie knocked. They didn’t actually wait for anyone to answer. Knocking was more of a courtesy. The moment after Eddie knocked, he turned the handle and pushed the door inwards to admit them, calling out, “We made it!”

“Merry Christmas!” a few voices said in jumbled unison, while Judy called from the kitchen, “Come in! Come in!”

“Shut the door while you’re at it!” Tommy added. “You’re letting out the heat!”  

The two of them shuffled inside, shutting the door and pushing off their coats and gloves. Eddie held out his hand to take hers and she gave them to him with a grateful kiss on the cheek, which he ducked down to receive before striding away to hang up their things in a closet around the corner. The house was pleasantly warm and bright. A fire flickered and popped in the hearth. A few of Tommy and David’s kids were playing cards on the rug in front of it. Tommy and David themselves were seated on the couch, chatting with their dad and nursing beers. Their wives were sipping wine; the two had cordoned themselves off by the chairs near the Christmas tree, which was already piled high with presents for tomorrow. Taking off her heels and setting them by the front door, Dani gave the two other women – both sleek, polished, and brunette – a nervous little wave and a smile. They returned it, looking as plasticky as Dani felt.

Already Dani felt herself tense up with quiet dread at the thought of making small talk all night. The section of hard floor by the front door was slightly wet from the residue of snow left when people first stepped inside, and with a grimace she stepped further into the house and onto warm dry carpet. Before she could go any further however, there was another knock at the front door. And this time, it didn’t immediately open after.

Looking around, nobody else seemed to be moving. So, Dani walked back a few steps and opened the door to find her mother standing on the other side, a bottle of red wine under one arm.

“Oh,” said Dani, smiling weakly. “Hi, mom.”

Karen cast an appraising glance across Dani’s appearance – navy skirt, navy jacket, cream-colored blouse, bare-stockinged feet – and her eyebrow rose.

“What? Did you leave your snow boots at home?” Karen asked, moving inside so that Dani had to step out of the way.

Dani sighed. “Merry Christmas, mother.”

Normally that kind of tone would have earned her a sharp-tongued rebuke, but from the couch Mike said jovially, “Karen! Nice to see you!”

Her mother removed her shoes and strode towards the couch to talk. Tommy and David exchanged their pleasantries. Meanwhile, Dani caught Mike’s eye over her mother’s shoulder. He winked at her, but the action was so fast and subtle she might have imagined it.

Making her way past the living room, carefully not catching the attention of Tommy and David’s wives, Dani slipped into the kitchen. There, Carson and Judy were adding the finishing touches to a feast’s worth of food already spread out across the center island, while Eddie rummaged around in the fridge.

“Oh, honey, don’t you look nice,” Judy greeted her with a smile. She gestured Dani closer with a spatula so she could give her a brief one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek before returning to task.

“Hey,” Carson said, flicking a towel at his brother’s backside. “If you’re not going to help, get lost.”

Eddie straightened with a scowl, clutching a can of beer in one hand. “Knock it off, Carson.”

“Mom, tell him to get out of the kitchen.”

“Get out of the kitchen, Eddie,” said Judy in an absentminded tone, busy carving an enormous glazed ham and plating the slices. 

Eddie shut the fridge door and said, exasperated, “Why do you always side with him?”

“Because she likes me more than she likes you,” Carson whisper shouted, dodging out of the way when Eddie took a swipe at the back of his head. 

Which was, of course, exactly when Judy chose to look up from her carving, her face a fixed scowl of displeasure. “Edmund! On Christmas? Really?”

“Wha -?” Eddie pointed at Carson, but whatever excuse he’d been about to say died on the tip of his tongue as his mother returned to what she’d been doing. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.

Carson flapped the towel towards the exit to shoo his brother away, and Eddie went, sipping sullenly at his beer. “Not going to save me?” he asked Dani as he passed her in the doorway.

Dani shrugged apologetically but she was grinning when she replied. “Your mom’s house. Your mom’s rules.”

“Smart girl,” Judy murmured.

Eddie left, grumbling all the while. Carson waved cheerily after him and only stopped when Dani gave him a look.

“What?” Carson asked. 

“You know what.”

“He was being in the way,” said Carson as though that justified everything. “He’s always being in the way. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Even Judy shot her an amused glance at that. Dani crossed the room and snatched the dish towel from Carson so she could get started on the pile of pots and pans that had already accumulated in the sink before anyone had eaten a single bite. 

Of course she knew that. Better than anyone. Better than any of them could begin to understand. 

Instead, all Dani said was, “And we love him anyway. Because that’s what good siblings do. Especially during the holidays.” 

Carson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Fine.”

Running the tap to fill up the sink, Dani flicked him with water, and he ducked away from the splash with a whine of complaint. 

“Judy!” called out Mike’s voice from the living room. “Can you bring out a towel and some soap! We’ve had a spill!” 

With a sigh, Judy held out her hand for the towel, which Dani was already passing over to her along with a spare bar of soap from the windowsill over the sink. “Thanks, honey. Carson, can you take out the pie for me, please?”

Carson saluted sharply and moved towards the oven. “I’m on it, boss.” 

In a bustle, Judy went out into the living room, leaving Dani and Carson alone in the kitchen. From the open door, Dani could hear her say, “Already, Tommy? I told you to be careful.”

“Sorry, mom. Here. I can do it.”

“It was David’s fault, actually.”

“Hey, Ed? Buddy? You want to test the ‘no fight’ rule of Christmas?”

“Boys, please.” 

Dani hid a grin. She twisted off the tap and scrounged around in the cupboard beneath the sink for a pair of pink gloves to start the washing up. Beside her, Carson grabbed an oven mitt and a spare towel, and pulled out a pie, resting it atop the stove and switching off the remaining dials. 

“Smells great,” Dani said idly as she reached for a scrubbing brush and soap. “You two must’ve been working all afternoon.”

“It was mostly mom, to be honest. Though I was charged with some last minute grocery shopping. The store was a nightmare.”

Dani gave him a sympathetic grimace. With a smile, Carson set down the oven mitt and moved around her so that she could hand off a pan to him for drying. 

“Feel like we should leave this for Eddie and the twins to clean up,” said Carson. “Seems only fair.”

Dani shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re too nice.” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“What? Of being nice? No.”

“No?” 

She pushed another clean saucepan, still dripping with suds, into his hands and repeated, “No.” 

“Your loss,” he sighed dramatically. 

They fell into a companionable silence. From the other room they could still hear the goings on of the rest of the family. Dani listened fondly, while beside her Carson began humming a familiar tune under his breath. They worked in tandem, but as Dani placed the song — one of the many she’d heard at his concert in Des Moines — her movements slowed. His humming was but an echo of that night. Of bright neon lights, and a sweat-crowded underground bar, and thrumming noise vibrating the very floor beneath her feet. 

“You know I -” Dani started to say, then stopped, not knowing exactly how to continue. “I went looking for you that night. After the performance, I mean.” 

“Hmm?” Carson said, idle and wordless, setting aside one pan and reaching for a clean pot that Dani had just finished washing. 

The water was murky and soap-riddled in the sink. A few knives were barely visible at the bottom, and there was still more than one pan handle cresting up through the surface like a sunken bowsprit. Eyes glued to the water, Dani set down the scrubber and steadied herself, hands braced against the edge of the sink.

“I found you. I saw you with your - your friend,” she said softly, slowly, picking up pace when he stiffened at her side, realising the implication of her words. “And I know it’s not my business, but I just - I wanted to tell you -”

She glanced up at him. Carson was frozen and wide-eyed, his hands gripping the damp drying towel as though it were a life line, the only thing keeping him tethered. Dani slipped her hands free of the gloves and reached out to grasp his wrist with fingers that were clammy yet gentle. 

“I think you’re wonderful,” Dani breathed, her voice low and her gaze far more steady than her heart beat. She could feel Carson’s leaping like a skittish animal’s beneath her thumb. “And I wish I were half as brave.” 

He blinked at her, his brow furrowing slightly, and Dani felt her throat close up around her tongue. She could tell him. It could be their little secret. Something they shared, a flame shielded from the wind by two cupped hands, flickering red-hot against their palms. She could tell him that he wasn’t alone, that she understood, that he didn’t need to hide from her. She could tell him, but the words were strangled at the root, piling up against the roof of her mouth. She could tell him, but he would always be Eddie’s brother before he was hers. 

Footsteps behind them. Someone entering the kitchen. Dani snatched her hand away as though scalded, and both she and Carson stepped back from one another. Putting the pink gloves back on to finish the dishes, Dani cast a furtive look over her shoulder.

Karen had paused in the doorway, gripping the neck of the wine bottle in one hand. "I hope I'm not interrupting something," she said with a pointed flicker of her eyes between Dani and Carson. 

The idea was so ridiculous — her and Carson — that Dani couldn't help but laugh. That her mother cared to know her so little she could even think they were anything but friends. It was laughable. And so Dani laughed. Beside her, Carson’s expression was pinched, as though it took everything in his power to not join in. 

"Is something funny?" Karen asked coolly.

Stifling a giggle behind her teeth, Dani shook her head. "No," she managed. Then she cleared her throat and continued more seriously, "No. Nothing at all. What can I get for you, mom?"

“Well, unless the wine glasses and corkscrew have taken up a new residence, I can get what I need myself.”

Dani handed off one of the last knives to Carson for drying and frowned at where her mother had crossed the kitchen to open one of the drawers. "At least wait for dinner," Dani said, and tensed as though for an incoming blow when her mother sent her a warning glare.

"Not tonight, Danielle," Karen said. "You know how hard Christmas is for me."

Except it wasn't just Christmas. And it wasn't just tonight. It was every night and all the nights that had come before.

Mouth pursed, shoulders tense, Dani stripped off the gloves. Carson must have noticed the hard expression on her face, for he said suddenly, “Hey, Dani, can you go tell everyone that dinner’s ready and that they’ll need to come serve themselves? We’re doing it more buffet style this year, since there are so many of us.” 

Exasperated, Dani nodded. Carson nudged her lightly with his elbow and gave her a smile.

“Thanks,” Dani said under her breath. 

“Yeah, you too,” he murmured. Then, straightening, he said, “Mrs. Clayton, do you mind pouring me a glass as well?”

Karen reached for two glasses instead of just one, and Dani was able to slip from the kitchen without further incident. 

The hallway provided a brief reprieve, caught in between the living room where Christmas music played and the family chattered, the tree glowing with lights fading from one color to another and reflecting off hanging tinsel, and the kitchen where she could still feel the presence of her mother, a shadow at her back. Leaning against the wall beside the kitchen entrance, lingering there for a moment, she went stiff when her mother passed her by to retreat back into the living room. Expelling a slow breath, she startled slightly when the doorbell rang, and felt her shoulders slump with relief. 

“I’ll get it,” Dani called out, and made for the door, pulling it open and smiling at the sight of Jamie and Mikey wearing identical grins with curly hair dusted in a cluster of snow. “You’re late.”

“It was Jamie’s fault,” Mikey said, “She forgot to dig out the truck from the snow.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and gently shoved Mikey inside. “You’re one to talk,” she said, shutting the door behind her with her boot, arms laden with presents, “You’re the one who took bloody forever to wrap the rest of those presents.”

“Because you kept complaining it wasn’t neat enough,” Mikey countered with a scowl. 

“Are you two going to bicker all night, or are you going to give me your coats?” Dani asked, biting back a laugh when Mikey gave her a sheepish grin and Jamie snorted, setting aside the presents on a nearby side table. 

Dani waited patiently as they slipped off their boots to rest against the towel already damp from snow, but as they began to pull off their coats, Jamie wacked Mikey on the arm. “Oi, you forgetting something?”

“Oh,” Mikey said sheepishly, handing Dani his coat and scarf with a small grin, “Merry Christmas, Dani.”

“Merry Christmas, Mikey,” Dani said, chuckling, “Don’t worry. You can tell me again tomorrow morning. You two are coming, right?”

Jamie shrugged, handing over her own baggy coat and old scarf. “‘Course. Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, and jerked her chin towards Mikey with a smirk, “Think this one would have my head if we did.”

But Dani wasn’t particularly listening, her eyes flickering across Jamie’s outfit of black slacks, a slim fitting black button up, and brown suspenders. The top button of her shirt was open, exposing an expanse of pale skin and the long silver link chain that disappeared in the collar of her shirt. Dark-haired and gray-eyed, she looked unfairly attractive. 

Swallowing thickly, feeling slightly unmoored, Dani gestured towards the outfit in question. “How very monochromatic of you.”

“Well, I do have a reputation to upkeep,” Jamie said, the corner of her mouth curling into an roguish grin, “The ugly jumpers are for tomorrow, remember?”

“Yeah,” Dani said, chuckling faintly, “I remember.”

Sufficiently breathless over the bright glint in Jamie’s eyes, Dani ducked away around the corner to hang the pair's coats in the closet and settle her heart rate. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Judy’s voice rang through the hallway. “There you two are! Come here! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. O’Mara,” Jamie replied. 

Dani grinned fondly, shoving aside thick winter coats in the closet to make room for Jamie’s and Mikey’s, overhearing the warm welcomes around the corner, easily picturing Judy crushing Jamie and Mikey into affectionate hugs. 

“Oh, finally, ” came Eddie’s voice next in a teasing tone, “Thought I was gonna have to rally the troops to start dinner without you.”

“Would’ve rung your neck if you did,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Now, you two,” Judy admonished, “You remember my house rules, don’t you?”

Dani returned just in time to find Jamie shrugging with an impish grin, hands tucked into her pockets, and Eddie rolling his eyes. Judy in question had her arm wrapped around Mikey’s shoulders, and huffed out a soft laugh. 

“You two haven’t changed a bit,” she said, and lightly jostled Mikey’s shoulders, “Come on, handsome. Let’s leave these silly goons to sort themselves out and go greet the others, huh?”

“Okay,” Mikey said quietly, wearing a shy pleased smile, cheeks dusted pink under the attention, letting himself be guided towards the living room where Dani could hear Tommy and David’s kids exclaim excitedly over Mikey’s appearance. 

“Look at that, Ed. She called him handsome,” Jamie said with a smirk and some measure of pride, “Don’t recall her ever calling you handsome growing up.”

Eddie glowered, but Dani could see it lacked any real heat behind it. “Don’t recall her calling you pretty either.”

”That’s ‘cause I was the one she was calling handsome instead.”

When Eddie’s expression twisted in mild bewilderment, Dani breathed out a soft laugh and approached the pair. At her appearance, they both turned and grinned broadly at her. Dani blinked, feeling her breath catch in her chest lightly under the attention, her eyes darting between them. She quickly smothered the feeling, pulling her mouth into a small smile. 

“You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” Eddie said, pointing reproachfully at Jamie.

Dani chuckled and folded her arms. “I refuse to get into the middle of one of these again.”

“Never gonna take a side, huh?” Eddie said, a teasing glint in his eyes, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close, “I see how it is.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m secretly her favorite,” Jamie said, smirking. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at her. “Okay, I’m going to let that pass once , since you helped us.”

Dani’s brows knitted together. “Helped with what?”

“Jamie helped us get the venue at the gardens,” Eddie said in triumph. “Turns out there was a long waiting list for a fall wedding, but Jamie managed to convince them to get us a slot.”

Dani went still. Feeling her stomach coil uncomfortably and her shoulders going stiff, Dani looked to Jamie and said, “You did?”

“Sure did,” Jamie said, her smirk outright devilish, “Hard to say no to this prat when he came crawling on his hands and knees, begging me to get you lot a spot.”

“That’s - I didn’t do that,” he said to Dani, “I just think she secretly likes me.”

“You and I both know I didn’t do it for you,” Jamie said with a wink in Dani’s direction. 

Not knowing what else to say or do, feeling a swell of unease building between her ribs, Dani chuckled weakly and ducked her head. 

Eddie laughed softly. “That’s fair,” he said, his hand rubbing her shoulder, “Gonna have to get you a gift basket as thanks.”

Snorting derisively, Jamie said, “I’ll settle for an open bar tab at the reception, thank you very much. But for now, you can start with taking those presents under the tree for me.” 

Jamie gestured with an impish grin towards the small stack of presents that still sat on the side table beside them. Rolling his eyes and sighing exasperatedly, Eddie nodded and did as he was told, leaving them in the foyer with one last kiss to Dani’s head and a pointed look towards Jamie. Sending him off with a cheeky salute, Jamie turned back to Dani, her expression softening. 

“All right, Poppins?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Dani said, blinking, “Why?”

Jamie shrugged, sinking her hands back in her pockets. “Had that look about you, I suppose,” she said, watching her carefully, “The gardens are what you wanted, yeah? If it isn’t, I’m perfectly happy and willing to go ring his neck.”

“No - it’s fine. It’s perfect,” Dani said, taking a small step closer, “The gardens are perfect.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jamie slowly said, “But?”

Shaking her head lightly, willing away the tight cincture in her chest, Dani said, “No buts. I couldn’t have pictured a more perfect place, to be honest.”

It wasn’t a lie for the most part. In another life, the botanical gardens blooming under the care of Jamie’s hands would have been more than she could have hoped for. In another universe, she would have been happy, she would have been relieved. Autumnal blooms and golden trees and a hand in her own that was smaller but no less calloused. But this was here and now, and Jamie’s discerning eyes were flickering over her quietly, studying Dani as though she could see right through her, and just as Dani felt her pulse quicken, Jamie’s expression softened. 

“All right then,” Jamie said, “S’long as you're happy.”

Feeling her breath catch in her chest, her hands twitching to wrap around Jamie’s, one of the twins called out, “Danielle! Are you just gonna hog her yourself all night?”

Chuckling lightly, wrapping her arms loosely around her stomach, Dani felt her cheeks warm. Rolling her eyes, the corner of Jamie’s mouth curled into a smile and nudged her towards the living room. “Fair bit of warning, the kid has something for you,” Jamie murmured. 

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Wants to give it to you tonight instead of tomorrow,” Jamie said, “Been a wee bit shy about it.”

“You two didn’t have to get me anything.”

“He insisted.” Jamie shrugged. “Kid’s a bit mad about the holidays, you saw what he was like on Sunday.”

Dani would be hard pressed to forget. Arriving at the Taylor household that afternoon with hot chocolate and pastries in hand to a house strewn about in wrapping paper and decorations and a bare Christmas tree tucked into the corner waiting to be accessorized. The day had been spent helping the pair decorate the tree and living room with Christmas music to keep them company at Mikey’s insistence. And afterwards they had settled on the couch to watch White Christmas as the blinking tree lights illuminated the room while Dani desperately tried not to drown in the nostalgia with Jamie pressed beside her. By the end, Jamie and Mikey had ended up chasing each other around the house with wrapping paper rolls after a well aimed thwack to Jamie’s head while Dani watched with exasperated fondness while waiting for the tea kettle’s whistle. 

“I saw you, too,” Dani said with a teasing smirk, “I see you still have White Christmas memorized.”

Jamie shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Dunno what you mean.”

“I also happened to see that you and Mikey seem to be matching tonight,” Dani said, taking a peak in the living room where indeed Mikey was also wearing dark slacks, a button up shirt, and suspenders. The only minor difference happened to be that his shirt was dark green and he was wearing a black bow tie that he was currently anxiously pulling at as he sat on the couch between Judy and Mike. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. “Cute.”

Huffing out a soft laugh, Jamie shook her head. “Wasn’t my idea. He liked my suspenders and wanted one of his own,” she said, “Put my foot down on the bow tie though. Never would’ve heard the end of it.”

Letting her eyes stray briefly to the brown leather strung over Jamie’s shoulders and pressing into her torso, Dani swallowed thickly and said, “It’s sweet that you indulge him like that. With the outfits and just - all of Sunday.”

“Makes him happy," said Jamie simply.

Before Dani could say anything more, faintly aware that she was looking at Jamie with an expression that was too soft, too fond, there was another yell. 

“Hey! Don’t make us come over there!”

Twisting around to frown at the source of the sound, she was greeted with the twins looking at her and holding up their hands in an impatient ‘come on’ gesture. 

“Okay, why are you two baffoons yelling and why has no one come to get food yet?” Carson said, appearing from the kitchen with a towel slung over his shoulder and a look of exasperation that resembled Judy’s so much that Dani snickered.

At the sound, he turned towards the pair still lingering in the foyer and sighed, shaking his head. “I see what happened now.”

Jamie laughed and let Carson engulf her in a hug. “Not my fault I’m so irresistible,” Jamie said, shooting Dani another wink over Carson’s shoulder. Feeling her cheeks warm, Dani chuckled weakly as Jamie reached up to ruin Carson’s styled hair, but he was quick on his feet and batted her hand away. 

“Think your head is getting way too big to pull out your ass,” he grumbled, playfully shoving her away, and then addressed the living room, “Dinner’s ready!”

They were promptly surrounded by O’Mara’s, finally greeting Jamie with hugs and handshakes. Dani watched with a faint smile, her arms still loosely wrapped around her torso, on the cusp of too enamored. Something nudged her arm and she startled slightly, turning to find Carson grinning at her. 

“Some help you were,” he teased. 

Her heart in her throat, she fumbled for a response but Carson was already stepping away, helping Judy herd the family into the kitchen to get food. Dani lingered near the back, waiting until the kitchen cleared enough for her turn, letting Eddie sweep a hand over her back as he slipped by in a bid to beat his brothers on getting the best pieces of turkey and ham, and shared a commiserating smile and eye roll with Jamie at the bickering and laughter within the kitchen. 

At the dining table, by some miraculous chance, Dani managed to find a seat directly across from Jamie and Mikey, sandwiched between Eddie and Carson. With Christmas music still playing from the stereo and everyone digging into their dinner after a short prayer of thanks led by Judy, she fell back into patterns she’d like to think she’d mastered over the past month and a half. To smile at the right time and comment with the appropriate reply whenever addressed. To laugh under her breath at Carson’s murmured commentary and jokes. To drink her wine and eat her dinner, and not let her eyes linger on Jamie across from her. Jamie with strands of unruly dark hair raked across her bright eyes, Jamie with her infectious laugh, Jamie with those suspenders. 

Partway through dinner, Dani came to the realization she was failing miserably when beside her Carson downed a whole glass of wine on one go on a dare by Tommy. 

“Where on earth did you learn to drink like that?” Judy asked, eyes wide, slightly aghast but unable to hide her own amusement. 

“God,” Carson replied with a broad grin when the table laughed.

And like a gravitational pull, Dani’s eyes immediately darted to Jamie’s to find her already looking back. Feeling her stomach twist not unpleasantly at the amused glint in Jamie’s eyes, they shared slow furtive smirks and a fond roll of their eyes. And just like that, Dani had to twist her hands around the napkin in her lap to ground herself. 

In between conversations and bites of food, it was getting harder to not let her eyes stray back, to not linger at Jamie’s comfortable, slouched posture. To not watch Jamie laugh again from some comment by Carson gone unheard by Dani, feeling as though she were underwater, feeling something constrict in her chest. Her teeth clenched, Dani promptly drained the rest of her wine. 

Beside her, Eddie leaned close and said, “Do you want another?” When she blinked up at him in confusion, he pointed and added, “A glass of wine.”

“Oh, yes. Please,” she said. Eddie smiled and stood to retrieve another bottle of wine from the kitchen. 

Across from her, Jamie was pouring more gravy over her plate, and said with a teasing grin, "Looking to let loose tonight for once?”

Dani laughed breathlessly, feeling her cheeks warm. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, “I don’t plan on having a hangover on Christmas morning.”

“Shame,” Jamie said, still grinning at her, and without warning, before Dani could look away, Jamie brought up a finger between her lips to lick at a stray bit of gravy. Sucking in a quiet breath, Dani swallowed thickly and fixed her eyes down to her plate, shoveling in another forkful of food. 

When Eddie returned to the dining room with two new bottles of wine in tow, a few seats down on the other side of the table, her mother perked up and said, “Oh, I’ll have another one of those too, if you don’t mind.”

Dani paused, carefully watching as Eddie smiled weakly and popped open a bottle, filling her mother’s glass until Karen was happy with the amount. When her mother waved him off with a murmured comment Dani couldn’t hear from this distance, Eddie muttered something back with another weak smile as Karen took a long swig from her glass. Knuckles white around her fork, Dani only managed to blink her gaze away from her mother when Eddie returned to her side, filling her glass before setting the bottles on the table and returning to his seat without a word, clearing his throat. 

It took her longer than she hoped, to let her shoulders and the grip on her fork relax, to reach for her glass and take a long sip. It was a dark peppery red that settled heavily on her tongue. The kind her mother favored. She rested her glass back atop the table, all the while feeling a stare piercing straight into her. Her eyes darting up, Jamie was watching her with a carefully neutral expression. Slowly, Jamie’s eyebrow arched with a faint look of concern and quiet question. Feeling something unspool in her chest, Dani gave her a slow reassuring smile. Staring at her for a moment longer, Jamie’s eyes darted across her face as though searching for something, and then finally she shrugged before returning to her food. 

Dinner seemed to pass quicker after that, leading to conversation over empty plates and letting the kids run around the table, dodging teasing hands with bright laughter. Dani’s hands fidgeted under the table, pulling at her fingers and scratching at a hangnail. In an effort to burn off her restless energy and feel useful, she stood and began gathering the nearest plates to take into the kitchen, but as she reached for Carson’s plate, he batted her hands away. He took the plates from her and set them back down on the table. 

“No. Nope. Not happening.” 

“What do you -?” Dani started to say but she didn’t get far.

“Tommy. David. Eddie,” Carson pointed at his brothers in turn as he called their names. “You’re up.”

The three of them blinked at him in bemusement.

“I mean it!” Carson snapped. “You’re really gonna make Dani and mom do dishes? Or Ash and Liz? Come on. Don’t be assholes.”

“Why does he get to swear in the house?” Eddie asked his mom, when there was no rebuke forthcoming for language.

“Because I like his message,” Judy replied dryly. 

With an arm stretched over the back of Mikey’s chair, Jamie snickered and held up her glass of wine. “Cheers,” she said, and took a long swig. 

“Why aren’t you making Jamie help, then?” David grumbled, already standing to gather the dishes. 

“With all those elbows being thrown around?” Jamie said, “I’d rather not have a black eye for Christmas, thanks.”

“Never took you as a coward.”

“You wanna go there, mate?” Jamie said with a sharp grin. “I have plenty of arsenal to make you regret it.”

With his mouth thinned and eyes narrowed, David thwacked Tommy on the arm to get him to stand. The pair of them grumbled under their breath to the sound of the table chuckling. Eddie quickly followed suit with a roll of his eyes when Carson gave him a pointed glare. Dani watched with a fond grin and when her eyes met Jamie’s again, they shared a snort of laughter. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Carson said, “Wanna come help me choose the next tape to play?”

Fiddling anxiously again at his bowtie now that dinner was over, Mikey’s eyes brightened at the offer and he was nodding, already pushing out his seat before Carson could stand. And just like that, the table began to disperse back around the house with happy chatter and glasses of alcohol in hand. 

Dani took the opportunity to dart into the downstairs bathroom and draw in a deep, relieved breath with the door finally shut behind her. Her reflection was waiting for her in the mirror, wan and frazzled. Scowling, Dani reached up to fix her hair, to try and make herself feel more grounded at least superficially. In the time it took her to do her business and return to the chaos, Mike had already brought out his camcorder for the night, and The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album was blaring on the stereo. Casting her eyes around the house, not seeing Mikey or Jamie anywhere, Dani exhaled a slow, fortifying breath, and waded out for small talk. 

She managed for the most part, discussing work with Ash and Liz and trying her best to remember the plot of the last book she read. Smiling shyly with a small wave whenever Mike panned his camcorder in her direction. Letting Eddie wrap an arm around her shoulders when the boys were done cleaning in the kitchen. Sharing furtive eye rolls with Carson across the room where he stood by the stereo when the three eldest O'Mara boys smiled proudly, as though cleaning was their idea in the first place. Letting her eyes snap towards Jamie when she finally entered the room, following her closely as she made a beeline towards Carson with two bottles of beer in hand.

Suddenly, Eddie’s arm around her felt like an anvil, sinking her into the carpet floor. She felt too exposed under Mike’s camera, and her mother lingering nearby on the couch, flushed and glassy-eyed and far too familiar. 

Swallowing thickly, Dani said to Eddie, “I’ll be right back.”

Mid-conversation with Tommy and his wife Liz, Eddie nodded absently and let her slip away quietly. Delving back into the kitchen, she drained her wine and rested the empty glass on the counter. For a long moment, she stared into the glass, seeing her warped reflection, and with a tight jaw, she pulled open the fridge to retrieve a bottle to refill her glass. 

Wandering back out into the hallway, she found herself leaning against the wall once more, mustering up the courage to delve back into the living room. Taking a slow sip of her wine, feeling her cheeks warm from the alcohol, she didn’t notice Mikey wandering up to her from down the hallway until he was leaning beside her, scowling down at his bow tie as he pulled and fiddled with it. 

She tilted her head to the side and asked gently, “Having trouble?”

His eyes briefly met hers and he shrugged, ducking his head again. “It keeps getting worse,” he grumbled.

Dani chuckled and nudged him in the arm. “Maybe because you keep messing with it.”

With a huff he rolled his eyes and tugged at the fabric again. “Mr. O’Mara showed us how to do it, but it’s not working.”

When he tugged on it again roughly and sagged heavily against the wall, Dani bit back a laugh. “Okay, come on,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him back down the hall, “We’re going to fix this.”

His shoulders slumped, Mikey didn’t complain as she led him towards the bathroom, flickering the lights on and grinning fondly at the lines of frustration and disappointment in his face through his reflection, an uncanny mirror image to Jamie. 

“Now, I’m more practised in regular ties and doing it backwards, but we’re gonna give it a shot, okay?”

At his quiet nod, Dani squeezed his shoulders and gestured for him to undo his bow tie as she rested her glass on the counter. With his back to her, she reached over his shoulder to adjust the length of the fabric, and asked, “Is this okay?”

He nodded again. She smiled and began to slowly show him the steps with his back to her. Just as he was in class when challenged beyond his level, Mikey was eager to learn, watching the steps through their reflection. It was a little uneven when she was done, but with some adjusting and pulling, she was pleased with it. Leaning closer to get a better look, Mikey grinned broadly at their reflections. 

“Thanks, Dani,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she said, “Now it’s your turn.”

With a heavy sigh, Mikey acquiesced and undid his bow tie. She took it slow, murmuring encouragements in between her instructions as Mikey’s brow furrowed in concentration while following her directions. Just as they were mid-way through, Dani’s voice faltered when through the mirror, a familiar figure appeared and leaned against the open door frame. 

“Was wondering where you two went,” Jamie said. 

“Mikey was having trouble with his bow tie,” Dani explained. 

“I see that.” Jamie smirked at Mikey. “My services weren’t good enough for you, huh?”

Through his faint blush, Mikey scowled. “Not my fault your memory sucks.”

Jamie snorted. “Yet, you’re the one who thought I was cool enough to want to copy and match.”

If anything, Mikey’s cheeks went redder and he crossed his arms, his shoulders bunching. Dani gave Jamie a reproachful look through the mirror, and in response Jamie rolled her eyes with a good natured grin. 

“All right, all right,” Jamie said, flapping her hand towards them. “Carry on. I’m not even here.”

Shaking her head, Dani coaxed Mikey out from his hunched form to return to his bowtie, and in no time he was tugging it in place, squared up and neat. 

“There you go,” Dani said, patting his shoulder with a proud smile, “Now you look especially handsome.”

Ducking his head, Mikey murmured, “Thanks, Dani.” And then after a long moment, briefly darting his eyes between Dani and Jamie through the mirror, he said, “Can I go now?”

Huffing out a soft breath, Dani nodded. “Yes. Go on, I’m sure Mrs. O’Mara has snacks hidden for you somewhere.”

His eyes brightening, Mikey grinned and made to exit the bathroom, but was pulled to a stop by Jamie slinging an arm around his neck and pulling him close with a smile. “Aw, mate. She called you handsome.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Mikey grumbled, but made no real effort to pull out of her grasp. 

Laughing, Jamie lightly ruffled his hair, and said, “How about we do what we had planned first, and then you can go?”

Mikey’s look was dubious. “Now? Here?”

Jamie shrugged. “Why not? No one’s here to see. That was the point, remember?”

Hesitating briefly, his brow knitting where he remained pressed against Jamie’s side, he finally nodded. Dani watched with a patient, soft smile as Jamie let him go and pulled something unseen out of her pocket, hidden behind Mikey’s thin frame. Covertly passing the object in hand to Mikey, Jamie shot Dani a quick wink over his head with a crooked grin. 

Mikey’s cheeks were pink as he turned and held out a small navy box towards Dani, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. “Merry Christmas, Dani,” he murmured.

“Thank you, honey,” Dani said, charmed, taking the box. When she opened it, she smiled broadly to find that inside, nestled in foam padding was a Star Trek insignia silver pendant attached to a simple chain necklace. “Oh, it’s perfect,” she breathed. 

“I have one too,” Mikey said, visibly pleased over her reaction, “Mine’s a pin, but I left it at home.”

“You should’ve worn it,” Dani said, “Then we’d be matching.”

Mikey’s smile brightened, and he eagerly said, “I’ll wear it tomorrow.” 

“You better,” Dani said, pulling the necklace from it’s box, “We’re going to have to one-up Jamie somehow.”

Laughing, Mikey nodded and turned to Jamie, “Now can I go?”

It took Jamie a moment to answer, leaning against the doorframe with her hands in her pockets, expression soft as she watched them. She grinned and nodded, jerking her head towards the hallway. “Yeah, all right. Out of my sight.”

When Mikey disappeared down the hallway after one last pleased grin, Dani held up the necklace pinched between her fingers and said, “Help me?”

Without a word Jamie pushed herself upright and stepped closer. Heart a sudden claxon in her chest, Dani handed her the necklace and turned on the spot, pulling her hair to the side. Through the mirror, she watched as Jamie reached around and placed the chain around her neck, sucking in a quiet breath at the feeling of Jamie’s warm fingers grazing against her skin as she clasped the lock with an expression that was hard to read. An involuntary shiver traveled down Dani’s spine, her jaw aching from how hard she clenched her teeth. 

“There you are,” Jamie murmured, and stepped away, digging her hands back in her pockets. 

“Thank you,” Dani murmured, adjusting her hair back over her shoulders and setting the pendant straight so that it hung right over the dip of her clavicle. 

“No problem,” Jamie said, nodding towards her with her chin, “Won’t believe how popular their merch is. It’s bloody everywhere. Apparently some Captain Clark bloke is from Iowa.”

“Captain Kirk,” Dani corrected and laughed when Jamie shrugged dismissively. 

Then Jamie grinned and said, “Fancy keeping me company outside for a smoke? Came to find you to ask.”

“Yeah,” Dani said, nodding, “I’d love to.”

It was not until Jamie sneaked over their coats to the backdoor did Dani realize what she had agreed to. Carson was nowhere in sight to accompany them like she had expected, to act as a buffer to the nerves straining beneath Dani’s skin. But his boots were already set on a nearby mat, and Jamie was shoving them over towards her after handing Dani her coat.

“His boots are too big, I can’t - “ 

“Don’t think I didn’t see those heels of yours by the front door,” Jamie said, shrugging into her coat with an exasperated grin, “Honestly. You know how to color match, but you still haven’t learned your lesson on weather appropriate clothing?” A slow grin grew on Dani’s face. Seeing this, Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Raising a preteen really rubbed off on you, huh?”

Jamie stared at her for a moment, and then scowled, her cheeks pink. Dani snickered. “Just put the bloody boots on,” Jamie grumbled, and pulled open the back door, letting in a waft of freezing air.

Huffing at the cold air against her legs, she gave Jamie a mild glare who smirked in response. Without any more preamble, Dani shoved her feet in Carson’s oversized boots and slipped on her jacket and scarf before following Jamie outside on the porch. The temperature seemed to have dropped over the course of the night, the air still but bitingly cold. Dani shivered, wrapping her coat closer around herself as she followed Jamie to the railing, but instead of lingering in the overwashed porch light, Jamie grasped her hand and carefully guided her down the icy porch steps. 

“Where are we going?” Dani asked, the boots clunky and loose on her feet, but blissfully warm against the solid foot of snow as they trudged through the untouched expanse of white.

“Over here,” Jamie said, her breath a white mist, leading her towards the old shed near the back of the yard with furtive glances behind them to the backdoor, “Promised the kid I’d quit smoking for the New Year. He’s been on my ass about it. I’m going to have to milk the next few days for all they're worth.”

Dani snorted. “Quitting cold turkey, are you?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Gradually? Like a normal person?”

Pulling them around the corner of the shed, hidden away from view of the house where they could still hear the stereo blasting Christmas tunes at an unreasonable volume level through a crack of a window, Jamie leaned against the shed and grinned. 

“You know me,” Jamie said, releasing Dani’s hand to pull out a rumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket, “I’m an all or nothing kinda woman.”

Dani snorted, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”

“Good food and free booze, what’s not to love,” Jamie said with a shrug. 

“You mean besides hiding behind a shed in case Mikey sees you smoking?”

Rolling her eyes, Jamie didn’t deign to respond. She plucked out a cigarette and placed it between her lips, flicking a flame to life with a plastic lighter. Dani watched, entranced at the glow of orange illuminating her skin in the dark shadows encompassing them. Jamie’s eyes glinting in the light of flame and embers, cheeks sinking inward until she lifted the cigarette away to blow a thin stream of smoke above them with pursed lips. Dani’s heart was still pounding from the bathroom, crashing steadily against her ribs, the burn of Jamie’s hands lingering against the skin of her neck like an ink blot. She darted her eyes away in an effort to not look at Jamie’s lips when she took another drag. 

“You know,” Dani started slowly, “I still have your old lighter.” At Jamie’s questioning frown, she added, “The Zippo.” 

Jamie blinked at her for a moment, and huffed out a breath of laughter. “Figured you would’ve pawned that.” Jamie said with a shrug, taking another drag, the embers burning bright. 

Dani frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

“Because I missed you.”

Jamie stared at her, the air between them abruptly thick. Her stomach whorling uncomfortably, Dani cleared her throat and ducked her head, but then Jamie laughed softly. 

“Missed you too, Poppins,” Jamie murmured. When Dani dared to look up again, Jamie's expression was fond as she smiled at her. “Don’t think I told you that before, when you first said so.”

Easily, Dani could recall that day in the alley beside the pharmacy, when things had still felt so fragile between them like a house of cards stacked in her palms. And then the Sunday after that, and the Sunday after that. Smiling faintly, Dani murmured, “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, now you know at least,” Jamie said, taking another pull at the cigarette, and nodded towards Dani with her chin. “Don’t think I mentioned before either,” she continued through a plume of smoke she directed away from Dani, motioning her hands towards her, “Your outfit. Looks nice tonight.”

Dani’s cheeks warmed and she bit back a broad smile. “Thank you,” she said, and stumbled for a reply. “You - um. You look nice too.”

“Thanks.” Jamie slouched against the shed, her smile veering into a smirk as though she already knew this for a fact. “It’s the suspenders, yeah?”

“Um - “ Dani fumbled. “I suppose.”

“Gonna have to wear it more often, then.”

Dani nodded in lieu of a verbal reply, not trusting whatever she might say, praying that the shed shrouded them in enough darkness from porch light to not display the heat spreading across her cheeks. 

At that moment, the music from the house blared louder than before, Wham!’s Last Christmas booming through the open window. They both listened with amusement as complaints immediately followed.

“Carson, turn it down!” bellowed Eddie just as David complained, “I can’t hear myself think!”

“With what brain?” Carson rebuked. 

“Do you want us to break mom’s rule, because we will!”

“Suck it up!”

Dani met Jamie’s eyes and they both snickered with laughter. The volume in the end did not turn down, forgotten in the midst of continued bickering. Grinning broadly, Jamie lifted the cigarette to her mouth and Dani’s eyes drifted down to watch. When she expelled the smoke to the side, Dani held out her hand. 

Huffing lightly with a small shake of her head, Jamie gamely handed Dani the cigarette. “Y’know,” Jamie said as Dani eyed the red stained filter for a moment and took a slow, careful drag, “Could always just have one of your own.”

Coughing lightly, Dani blew out a plume of smoke. “Then that would make me a smoker.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, but when Dani made to hand it back, she shook her head. “Keep it,” she said, “Might be the last you ever have once I quit.”

“Feeling confident, huh?”

“When there’s a promise on the line, sure.”

Smiling warmly, Dani flicked off the ash into the snow, running a thumb over the filter. A thrill ran through her, a shiver coursing down her spine so that she huddled further into herself, feeling the cold bite at her ears and nose and exposed legs.

Chuckling lightly, Jamie said, “Christ, look at the state of you.” She pushed off the shed and held out a hand. “C’mere.”

Dani froze. “What?”

“Put that out and come here,” Jamie said, “You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

Jamie gave her a long dubious look. Clenching her jaw, Dani shifted her weight anxiously on her feet. “Are you sure?”

“Dani.”

“Okay,” Dani said, taking another long, fortifying pull of the cigarette before flicking it in the snow, expelling the smoke through her nose. 

Her stomach coiling with nerves, Dani took Jamie’s proffered hand and let herself be pulled closer until they were pressed together in a hug. “That’s better,” Jamie murmured, running her hand up and down Dani’s back, “Warm yourself up.”

Slowly wrapping her arms around Jamie’s waist as though any sudden movement might break the spell, Dani nodded, her heart feeling as though it threatened to burst through her sternum. It was no different than any of their hugs, no different than the long lingering embraces at Jamie’s front door. But the wine had her skin straining and her head buzzing, and worse, she was surrounded by the scent of sandalwood and smoke. Her breath a plume of white in a soft sigh, Dani’s eyes slowly slipped shut and she burrowed further in Jamie’s warmth, pressing her nose into her worn scarf and inadvertently grazed the skin of Jamie’s neck. 

Jamie’s arms stilled, her breath catching lightly. “Cold,” she murmured.

A thrill going down her spine at the heat of Jamie’s skin against her nose, Dani said, “Sorry.”

Jamie didn’t reply, unmoving as she held Dani. Frowning lightly, Dani opened her mouth to say something, to say anything, when a familiar jazzy tune drifted from the house. 

Huffing a soft laugh, Jamie murmured, “Figures.”

And before Dani could react, Jamie was rearranging their arms. Dani’s breath caught quietly as Jamie rested one of Dani’s hands on her shoulder and took the other to clasp their palms, and then slowly, as though waiting for Dani to stop her, to push her away, she slipped her hand around Dani’s waist. And with Ella Fitzergerald’s rendition of White Christmas accompanying them, Jamie began to sway with her on the spot. 

“There we go,” Jamie murmured, their temples pressed together, her breath a hot wisp against Dani’s ear and neck. 

Swallowing thickly, her heart threatening to burst through her chest, there was a feeling washing over Dani like a haze, as though the world had narrowed down to just them, in this dark corner in the snow with only the distant porch light and the moon to illuminate them. She pressed her eyes closed and drew in a soft breath, the air bitingly cold as she inhaled, feeling dizzy and enchanted all at once. 

“This is nice,” Dani murmured, broaching the long quiet as they swayed. 

Jamie hummed softly. “Yeah,” she said. “Was thinking. You could come over again before the New Years. Could watch White Christmas again and pretend we’ve never seen it before. Give Mikey a taste of his own medicine.”

Dani chuckled, and bit her lip at the near imperceptible feeling of Jamie pulling her closer by the waist. “I’d love to,” Dani said.

And before she knew what she was doing, Dani was pressing closer. Wrapping her hand further around Jamie’s shoulders, fingers tangling in strands of curly hair, grazing the back of Jamie’s neck. Ducking her head to bury into the crook of Jamie’s shoulder, nose and mouth pressed against the skin of her throat, making a small sound of contentment. 

Jamie sucked in a sharp breath, their swaying faltering for half a heartbeat, and she audibly swallowed hard. Dani’s eyes slowly drifted open, lost in the darkness of the crook of Jamie's neck, straining her ears, feeling Jamie’s hand on her waist dig into the fabric of her coat. They were swaying again, but with Jamie’s pulse a sudden rapid flutter beneath Dani’s nose and lips, she felt as though she was veering over a vast precipice, her stomach dropping at the sensation. Trying to remember how to breathe, Dani slowly lifted her head, smoothing her hand over Jamie’s rigid shoulders and back, gripping Jamie’s hand tight.

Dani opened her mouth to speak, to broach the lingering silence, but the air was still around them, particles of snow drifting so slowly they might as well be fixed motionless where they hovered, and with one word spoken, one wrong movement, the spell between them would be broken. The world moving again, expanding beyond the single point where they clung to each other, pushing them apart. 

Exhaling a soft trembling breath, Dani gradually pulled further back until she could finally see Jamie’s face. Gray eyes dark and stormy, expression carefully blank, Jamie met her gaze and the corner of her mouth lifted into a faint, barely there curve. Dani lingered on it, on the scar there painted red and outlined in faint light. It would be so easy to push back in, and press her lips there. To taste Jamie’s mouth of wine and cigarettes, and feel that scar beneath her own mouth and tongue. Dani bit her own lip and watched Jamie’s jaw go taut, the muscle leaping beneath her skin. 

Her eyes darted up and met Jamie’s, darker than before, unblinking as they were piercing, and then Dani sucked in a quiet breath when gray eyes slowly traced down over Dani to where they were pressed together before traveling back up, lingering on Dani’s mouth for a long moment before catching Dani’s gaze again.

Dani swallowed hard, her breath caught in her throat, not daring to believe, not daring to hope. A flash of something unreadable crossed over Jamie’s expression like a red flare in the dark, the scratch of a matchstick, a flicker in the strained lines of her face. And in a moment it was gone, in its wake something unreachable and blank. 

She couldn’t have been imagining it. The same heat that flared between her ribs and thighs reflected back at her through Jamie’s eyes. The same adoration she’d come to know like the back of her hand since they were children. 

The song was ending, transitioning easily to some other tune Dani couldn’t be bothered to name, when it was abruptly cut off to the immediate sound of muffled complaints and bickering. The silence that followed between them was suddenly and unbearably thick. 

“Jamie - “

“We should head inside,” Jamie murmured, “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

They still stood so close that Dani could see the shadow of her eyelashes and the flecks in her eyes. The music returned to a chorus of cheers, the volume at a more reasonable level. Slowly, Dani braved another smile and eased closer, knocking their foreheads together. “One more song?”

Stiffening for a moment, Jamie huffed and said. “You’ll be the death of yourself. Your hand is freezing.”

“I can handle it,” Dani said, keeping the ‘with you,’ locked away behind her teeth. 

Jamie seemed to have heard it anyway, for she sighed slowly and muttered, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Dance with me?”

Choking out a thin laugh, Jamie pulled away. “Not when you’re bloody shaking like a leaf,” she said, “C’mon. Back inside with you.”

Disappointment gripping at her chest, Dani felt her face fall as Jamie took a full step back that seemed to feel like a vast canyon for how close they were pressed together before. Dani missed the warmth of her arms immediately, but then Jamie was arching an eyebrow at her. 

“Unless you want Judy to come bursting out here wondering what we’re doing,” she said, a teasing curve tucked into the corner of her grin. “Or worse: Ed.”

Stones sunk in the pit of Dani’s stomach, and suddenly reality pressed on her eardrums like a rush of wind. “Right,” Dani choked out, smiling weakly. 

She followed Jamie back inside, breathing in relief in the warmth of the house, shedding her jacket and Carson’s boots. Beside her, Jamie exhaled softly and handed over her jacket when Dani held her hand out, a sharp line to her jaw, not meeting Dani’s eyes. 

“Just gonna head to the loo,” she muttered. She glanced towards Dani, who nodded, mildly bewildered at the sudden change in disposition. Jamie jerked her head in a short nod and spun on her heel out the kitchen.

A furrow to her brow, Dani followed a few paces behind through the hallway, the front door closet in the same direction, but when she turned the corner, she bumped directly into a broad frame. 

“Oh -!” 

She almost teetered off balance, but hands immediately grasped her waist to steady her and she looked up to find Eddie grinning broadly at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Suddenly behind her there was a cacophonous noise of cheering and laughter. Twisting around, her eyes went wide in surprise to find Mike’s camcorder pointed in their direction and half of the family watching them with enthusiasm from the living room.

“I cannot believe that worked,” said Tommy, laughing as he spoke. 

“Huh?” Dani said dumbly.

“Look up, honey,” Judy said, holding up a point-and-shoot camera at the ready, her eyes bright with fond amusement. Beside her, Carson chuckled, but couldn’t hide his wince of sympathy.

Dread pooling in her stomach, Dani slowly looked up as though awaiting some hungry creature to jump out from the shadows and bite her, but instead she found a mistletoe dangling from the light fixture above her. 

“Oh,” Dani said, a small anxious laugh bursting out of her. 

And before she could stop herself, she slowly turned and immediately met Jamie’s eyes, watching her with an eerily neutral expression, frozen as though mid step. Rooted to the floor, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani watched with bated breath as Jamie blinked, and then without a word, disappeared around the corner. 

Her throat feeling thick, her stomach churning, Dani turned back to meet Eddie’s grin with a weak one of her own. His hands affectionately squeezed her waist lightly, and all it once it felt utterly wrong. But there was goading and teasing coming from the living room, muffled as though Dani’s ears needed to be popped. With another awkward chuckle, feeling something crushing her chest, her throat thick, she stood on her toes and kissed Eddie’s bashful smile. She ignored the good-natured wolf whistles and cheering and the audible click and flash of a camera. 

“I want a copy of that,” Dani heard her mother say in a happy slur when she pulled back, ducking her head away to hide the guilt and indignation gnawing at her, hoping it’d come across as demure. Eddie laughed and hugged her. 

It felt increasingly harder to breathe, afterwards. Clutching at a fresh glass of wine after downing her last in one go after finally escaping the clamor to return hers and Jamie’s jackets in the closet. Struggling to push down the thought of how much she had wanted to bury her nose back into Jamie’s jacket, just to breathe her in one last time. Struggling to not grit her teeth at the Christmas music that was beginning to grate on her ears. Struggling to not let her eyes wander when Jamie finally returned to the festivities, her shirt sleeves folded up neatly, exposing the lean lines of her forearms. 

She had almost expected the world to settle back on its axis, since returning from outside. With the way Jamie didn’t approach her again throughout the rest of the night, with every corner Dani turned, Jamie would be five steps ahead as though she was just as unwilling as Dani to broach whatever had happened outside. Even still, Dani felt eyes on her. And as though sucked in by a gravity well, Dani kept glancing back, meeting gray eyes that seemed warm and dark in equal measure. And every time their eyes would meet, Jamie would hold her stare until Dani felt rooted to the spot, her feet melding to the floor like just another fixture. 

Dani was leaning against the wall, nursing her broad-bowled glass while in the middle of a group conversation with a small cluster of the family when it happened again. The dark form of Jamie slipping by to hover near Carson by the stereo, leaning against a bookcase with a beer in hand and catching her eyes once again. And instead of another faint grin or an arch of an eyebrow, Jamie’s eyes slowly scanned her up and down, lingering on the hem of her skirt before meeting her gaze again and turning away. 

Swallowing hard, Dani brought the lip of her glass to her mouth and drifted her eyes down again to those suspenders, lingering there for a long moment before settling back on Jamie’s forearms. She wondered faintly, what Jamie’s forearm would look like if her hand were to slip beneath Dani’s skirt and between her thighs, how the leather of her suspenders would feel in her hands if Dani were to grip them for leverage. Feeling an ache between her legs in response and her breath catching at just the thought alone, Dani clenched her teeth and stood upright to make her excuses to the bathroom when there was the sound of glass shattering from the kitchen. 

Dani started slightly, blinking in surprise. On the other side of the room, Carson groaned. “All right, which one of you idiots was it,” he said, but when he turned around to find all three of his older brothers in the living room, he paused. “Oh.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, Judy,” came Karen’s voice. 

“It’s all right, honey,” said Judy gently, “Watch your feet, there’s glass everywhere.”

The air in the living room abruptly went thick and quiet and suffocating. Feeling her stomach drop, Dani exhaled quietly and started towards the kitchen. She slowed when she was greeted with a pool of wine on the linoleum floor, red as blood, fresh-spilt, shattered pieces of glass everywhere. Jaw taut, Dani looked up to find her mother hunched over in one of the kitchen table chairs, rubbing at her forehead. Just as Dani felt another presence at her side, Judy looked up from where she was gathering the larger pieces of glass and offered Dani a reassuring grin.

“Just an accident, honey. Not our first spill of the night,” Judy said, and then added, “Boys, could you get the mop and broom, please?”

There was movement behind her, but Dani couldn’t be bothered to check, feeling a strain pressing at her shoulders. She slowly edged her way further into the kitchen, carefully skirting around the mess and Judy’s warnings. 

“Danielle, be careful.”

She nodded faintly, easing closer to her mom, her throat feeling thick. There was movement again behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Mike and Carson helping Judy with cleaning supplies in hand. Lingering by the entranceway, Dani found both Eddie and Jamie. Eddie with his hands tucked inside his pockets, an apprehensive hunch to his shoulders as he took in the scene. And Jamie with a concerned frown. Swallowing down the swell of acidic shame building in her throat, Dani turned away and moved closer to Karen.

Her eyes were closed, hidden beneath her hand, glasses abandoned on the table where she rested heavily on her elbow. “Mom?” Dani murmured, carefully reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Karen said sharply, “Just an accident.” She then looked up, her eyes glassy, her jaw clenched. “Judy, it’s fine. Let me help. I can fix it."

She made to stand, but Judy firmly shook her head. “You stay right there,” she said, emptying a dustpan full of glass in the garbage, and gestured where Carson and Mike were near finishing cleaning up, “See? We’re almost done. No harm, no foul.”

Karen exhaled and shook her head with a grimace. “I’m sorry. I - “

“Now, none of that,” Judy said sternly, “It’s Christmas. Accidents happen.”

Her expression darkening into a scowl, Karen shook her head again and mumbled something under her breath. Jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth, Dani gently squeezed her shoulder. “Let me walk you home.”

“I’m fine,” Karen repeated. 

Dani stared at her for a long moment, scanning over the exhausted and weary lines of her mothers face. The phases of her mother’s inebriation were as constant as the moon; Dani knew them all by heart. “You need some sleep,” Dani murmured, “Let me take you home.”

Karen scoffed, and said darkly, “Why? So you can lord it over me?” She shrugged off Dani’s hand. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you, Danielle.”

“Karen,” Judy said behind her.

The Christmas music was a ringing in Dani’s ears, the sound feeling utterly like one big joke as her head swam from her own indulgence of wine. Dani pushed it down — the indignation and resentment — pushed it all away and leaned closer to murmur, “I just want you to feel better. That’s all.” Her mother remained quiet, not meeting her eyes. A thick lump appeared in Dani’s throat. “Please let me take care of you?”

There was a long moment of quiet as her mother rubbed at her forehead, and finally sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Fine,” she breathed, exhausted. 

Dani nodded and made to help her mother stand, grasping her arm. Eddie finally stepped closer, eyes darting between them. “She can have my old room,” he started carefully, almost hesitant, “If she’d like.”

Shaking her head, Dani murmured, “It’s fine.”

“You sure?” Eddie said softly.

“Yes, can you just - “ She stopped short, irritation bleeding in her tone. She drew in a deep breath, and repeated more calmly, “It’s fine. I’ve got her.”

Eddie hesitated, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something more, but to Dani’s relief, he just nodded and stepped aside. 

Her mother clung to her arm in a painful grip as Dani led them towards the foyer. She tried not to wince, tried to ignore the various gazes of the O’Mara clan in the shape of concern and morbid curiosity, tried to duck her head enough to hide the red in her cheeks as her mother staggered beside her. But when she reached the foyer, she looked up and blinked in surprise to find Jamie there in her coat and boots with two jackets slung over her arms, that old scarf wrapped around her neck.

“What are you - ?”

Jamie shrugged. “Figured you’d need the help,” she said simply.

“Are you sure?” Eddie said from beside her. Dani tensed at the sound of his voice. “I’d be happy to come along.”

Quietly, Jamie looked at Dani with a questioning arched eyebrow and patiently waited. Swallowing hard past the thickness in her throat, Dani murmured, “I've got it, Eddie.”

With a thin, conceding smile, Eddie nodded. Though there was a thin veneer of relief in his expression, Eddie still gamely assisted with letting Karen grip his arm for balance while she slipped on her shoes after muttering darkly, “Get up from the floor, Danielle,” when Dani had crouched to assist her.

Head ducked, running a trembling hand through her hair, Dani slipped on her own heels, only vaguely paying attention to Eddie awkwardly holding her mother’s jacket out. “Uh - “ he started “ - is it okay, Mrs. Clayton, if I, uh -?”

Remarkably, Karen breathed out a quiet laugh that grated on Dani’s ears. “Always were a polite boy,” was all she said. 

When Dani looked up again, she found Jamie watching her with a shadow of worry in her expression. Without a word, Jamie held up Dani’s jacket. Forcing out a thin smile, Dani turned and let Jamie help her slip into it, pulling it close around her. 

“All good?” Jamie murmured quietly behind her. 

Dani nodded, exhaling slowly. Just as she was about to turn around, Carson approached them.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “Anything I can do to help?”

Pulling her lips between her teeth in careful consideration, Dani’s eyes darted over his shoulder towards the living room that was still marginally quieter than it had been all night. Following her gaze, Carson glanced in that direction and then gave her an understanding smile. 

“I got it,” he said, pulling her in his arms for a firm hug, “I’ll take care of it.”

Dani nodded, holding him tight and feeling him reciprocate until she could almost feel her bones creak and her throat grow thick. When she slowly pulled away, she felt him give her a warm kiss to her forehead. “Love you,” he murmured. 

“Love you too,” Dani said faintly, unable to meet his eyes. 

Desperate to leave, desperate to feel the cold against her cheeks again to fight off the humiliation and the burn in her eyes, luck was not in her favor, for Judy was the next to approach her with a look of quiet affection Dani wasn’t sure she deserved.

Dani said, “I’m-I’m sorry, Judy, I’m - “

Judy cupped her cheeks and gave her a look that brooked no room for argument. “You head on home, and get the both of you to bed, all right?” she said, “I want you both bright eyed and ready for another day.” At a loss for words, Dani nodded and let Judy pull her into a hug. “Goodnight, sweet heart.”

“Goodnight,” Dani murmured, her shoulders stiff under Judy’s arms. 

Dani was unable to meet her eyes when she was finally let go, turning on the spot where the others were waiting for her. “Let’s go,” Dani mumbled to Jamie, who jerked her head in a single nod, and swung open the door. Offering Eddie a frail smile when he handed her Karen’s glasses, she slipped it in her pocket and let him kiss her head before she wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders to guide her outside. “Come on, mom. Let’s go.”

The cold against Dani’s skin was welcomed, biting at her ears and nose in a distracting way. Jamie was already waiting by the porch steps, a hand held out in case Dani or Karen lost their balance. She remained close by as they carefully stepped down the walkway that was now covered in a thin layer of snow, but when they reached the sidewalk, Jamie trudged ahead, kicking at the snowbank separating them from the street to make a path. 

Her mother shivered and grumbled under her breath as they carefully stepped through. Dani absently rubbed at her mother’s shoulder to ward away the cold, keeping a close grip on her. When they finally made it across the street up the walkway towards her childhood house, Dani dug her free hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

“Get the door?” Dani said to Jamie. 

With a nod, Jamie took the keys but remained close until they reached the porch with a faint furrow to her brow. It was by some miracle that they hadn’t slipped once during the entire journey.  

As Jamie unlocked the front door, keys jingling, the lock clicking open, Karen huffed. “Is she coming inside?”

“Yes,” Dani said firmly, not bothering to check for Jamie’s reaction as she guided her mother through the doorway. 

With the door shut behind them, Dani sighed quietly in the darkness of the house and listened as Jamie shoved her boots off, already stumbling around to flick on the lights. The house was cold and quiet and void of any decorations to speak of. Lying in wait for the return of its ghosts. Not in the least bit surprised, Dani shed her coat and shoes, and kept a close hand on her mother as she did the same, swaying off balance as she did so. 

“Need help with the stairs?” Jamie asked softly, broaching the quiet. 

Karen scoffed wordlessly. Not meeting Jamie’s eyes, Dani shook her head. “No." 

Jamie didn’t reply, and Dani didn’t look to see her expression. Instead she took her mom’s waist and led her towards the stairs. It was tricky, as it always was. But Dani was an old hand by now, climbing the stairs, bearing most of her mother’s weight, her labored breath in Dani’s ears. But for the first time, Jamie was a constant presence at her back, and when they stumbled halfway up, Dani felt the press of a warm hand at her lower back, burning through her blouse and keeping her balanced upright. Just the feeling alone cast another shadow of shame over her, burning her cheeks. 

Her mother’s bedroom, as it always did, smelled of cigarettes and cheap floral perfume as though that would mask the smell. Karen let out a long sigh when they shuffled inside and pushed out of Dani’s grasp as soon as they neared the bed to sit heavily on the edge of it. The light from the bedside lamps, even as warm as they were, cast her mother’s face in an eerie glow. Her head tilted slightly, Dani could almost see wrinkles there that she had never seen before.

Behind her, Jamie softly cleared her throat. Startlingly slightly, Dani turned and blinked at her, finding her standing at the threshold of her mother’s room with her hands in the pockets of her bulky jacket, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“You need anything?” Jamie said with a faint frown towards Karen before meeting Dani’s eyes. 

It took Dani a moment to answer, but she finally cleared her throat and nodded. “Just um - ” she fumbled “ - uh.”

Smiling gently, a reassuring look that briefly unspooled something in Dani’s chest. “Don’t worry,” Jamie murmured, “Be right back.”

Disappearing down the hall, audibly retreating downstairs, Dani was left to the realization that she was now alone with her mother. The stone that had sunk to the pit of her stomach seemed to painfully twist and deform. 

Pushing it down and away, Dani set to work. Retrieving a damp washcloth for her mother to wipe the night’s grime from face. Setting up the bed behind her. Removing jewelry as though on autopilot. Gold rings. A fake pearl necklace. Small stud earrings. 

She was setting them away at her mother’s vanity when at that moment, Dani heard footsteps in the hall. Clearing her throat, she stood upright and started towards the door where Jamie met her, a tall glass of water and a small bottle of painkillers in her hands. Instead of handing it over to Dani, she seemed to freeze on the spot, her eyes darting over Dani’s face with a discerning frown. Desperately, Dani gave her a reassuring smile, feeling her cheeks strain. 

When Jamie merely arched an eyebrow, Dani murmured, “I’ve got it.”

She looked at her for another moment longer, and then finally exhaled, handing over the supplies. “I’ll wait outside,” Jamie said softly, and when Dani nodded, she grasped Dani’s free hand before she could step away.

Jamie’s hand was warm, as they always were. Her eyes were soft and understanding, her mouth curving into a faint smile. Dani slowly exhaled, allowing the comfort for only a moment, before squeezing Jamie’s hand and letting go. Throat bobbing, sending Karen one last cursory glance, Jamie nodded and retreated downstairs. 

“That man of yours,” Karen said behind her, and Dani's spine immediately went taut, “you have a good one, you know?”

A strain was starting to travel up the back of Dani’s neck, a throbbing twinge verging on a headache. She gritted her teeth and turned to attend to her mother who had remained hunched over on the bed. Dani handed her the water in a silent order to drink, setting the painkillers aside to return to work. And all the while, Karen mumbled in between sips.

“You don’t find those very often anymore. Your grandfather wasn’t one,” Karen said, chuckling darkly, a lost look in her eyes, “But your father. He was a good man. Better than I could have ever hoped for. He insisted - he insisted we marry. All because of you. And God I hated him for it.” 

Dani froze, feeling something cold wash over her, but she was quick to continue, biting against the tremble of her chin, the ache in her chest, as she pulled bobby pins from her mother’s hair, smoothing out the blonde waves with trembling fingers. 

Karen laughed again. “If I have one advice to give you, Danielle,” she started as Dani robotically took the empty glass to set aside and coaxed her mother under the covers, “Don’t hate him for loving you. Otherwise you’ll end up like me. Alone and with a daughter who can barely stand to look at you.”

“Okay, mom,” Dani choked out weakly, a crack in her voice, pulling the covers over her mother’s shoulder as she curled on her side with her eyes closed. 

And before she could move away, Karen reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her close to sit beside her. “You’re happy, aren’t you?” Karen asked, looking up at her through heavy-lidded eyes, both exhausted and piercing all at once. “Are you happy?”

Feeling a burning in her eyes, Dani sucked in a trembling breath and nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed, hastily wiping at her cheeks, “Yeah, mom. I’m happy.”

Her mother blinked up at her for another long moment, and then without another word, twisted away. An unbearable ache in her chest, Dani stood on wobbly legs and made a swift exit, her fists clenched at her side. She turned off the lights and shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood to press her hands to her eyes. Rubbing away the burning and the unfallen tears until she could see stars behind her eyelids, until she could breathe properly again. 

It took a long time to feel normal again. Splashing cold water against her cheeks to wash away the sting of her mother’s words. Downing a glass of water of her own in the kitchen, as if she could drown in it. A long time to feel like she could face Jamie again and pretend the last half hour never happened. Tucking it all away until all that was left was this shiny, hollow veneer. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed her feet into a pair of reasonable boots, and pulled open the front door. 

Outside Jamie was fiddling with the keys to her truck. They jangled with a metallic clatter. The scarf was hanging around her neck like a stole nearly down to her knees. Her cheeks were bright and pink with cold, as was the tip of her nose. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Dani said, shutting the door behind her so that they stood alone on the illuminated front stoop of her childhood house. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” Jamie shot her a grin, which quickly faded. “Your mum all right?” 

With a sigh, Dani raked her hair away from her face with one hand, the other tucked beneath her opposite arm in an attempt to ward off the chill. “Probably not,” she said. “But there’s nothing I can do about that.” 

“Not your responsibility.”

“Then whose is it?” 

“Don’t care. Fuck her.” 

Dani gave a huff of laughter. Less because it was funny, and more because it was surprising. Jamie’s crass candor never failed to hit its mark. Arms wrapped around herself and shivering slightly, Dani shook her head.

“Don’t shake your head like I’m wrong,” Jamie said. “Because I’m not. Fuck her. You deserve better. Always have.” 

It felt too much like a scene from ten years ago. Jamie, here. Jamie, looking at her like this. Jamie, fiddling with her keys for want of movement. Jamie, all square-jawed and imploring gray eyes. They might as well have been sixteen again.

Dani made an abortive motion, wanting to reach out, to grasp Jamie’s arm, to ground herself in the present, but she stopped before she could get halfway, clenching her fist back to her side and frowning down at their shoes angled in the snow. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head and laughing softly.

Jamie stared at her. “What for?”

“I don’t know. I don’t – Everything. I’m sorry that you had to help me drag her over here on Christmas. You have enough going on. You didn’t need to do this.”

“Well, if it wasn’t me,” said Jamie. “Then it would’ve been Ed.”

Dani did not reply.

“Right?” Jamie asked, incredulous. “Please, tell me he helps you with this shit.”

“He –“ Dani cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder as though afraid the door might have opened, as though afraid her mother had been faking the whole thing and would be standing there, listening. “He does. More often than I’d like, to be honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scuffing her heeled shoe against the snow on the front step, Dani said, “I don’t like letting her ruin everything. I don’t want her making things harder.”

“Harder than what?”

Dani shook her head, her arms tightening around her middle and her eyes squeezing shut. She couldn’t say that being with Eddie was an exercise in precarious balance, in the breathtaking knife’s edge upon which every aspect of her life was hung. She couldn’t say that every day she woke up awash in the fear that today would be the day it all fell apart, one thing too many, one little piece out of place. She couldn’t say that because saying it aloud would make it real, because saying it aloud would mean no going back, because all she had was forward. One step after another. Always forward.

Clink of the keys, and Jamie’s voice was a careful thing. “Way I see it,” she said. “Things can’t be any harder than they are. Only different.”

Dani laughed weakly and looked up. “If only that were true.”

Jamie was watching her with a steady gaze. “You can tell me, you know. Whatever it is. You can tell me. I won’t care.”

Dani’s mouth was dry. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and she whispered, “You will.”

Jamie’s eyes dropped to Dani’s mouth, following the movement, and Dani felt a warm tug low in her stomach. A thin thread of something unseen and electric tethered them in place, and then the rhythmic twirl of the keys around Jamie’s fingers went off kilter for just a moment, sending them spinning off over the railing and into the snow bank.

“Shit,” Jamie muttered. She turned and descended the few steps to trample around in the snow, calf-deep, looking for her keys.

Blinking away the coil of heat in her gut, Dani shook her head slightly and went to join her. “Did you see where they went?”

“No,” Jamie said, leaning on her knees and sweeping through the snow with her bare hands, half-crouched so that her scarf dangled and dragged across the bank. “Fuck. Do you have that spare set I gave you?”

“You only gave me a spare house key. Not one for your truck.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry. Eddie and I can drive you home, if it comes down to it.”

The snow melted and clung to the skin-toned nylon stockings against Dani’s legs. She scrunched up her nose and shivered, the two of them alternatively sweeping their ankles or wrists through the drift, hoping to hear the tell-tale clink of metal. After a minute or two of them being out of view of the front door, the outdoor light automatically switched off, plunging them into the shadow of the house, which leaned over them like a spectre through the night, blotting out the stars in a jagged silhouette. 

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jamie muttered. 

She was still crouched over. A length of silvery chain glinted as it slipped free from her shirt and a familiar necklace swung from her neck. Dani went very still, gaze fixed upon it. 

It was a silver half-dollar piece. Dani could remember piercing it in Judy’s garage, Mike guiding her hand around the drill bit. Except the chain was different now. Longer than she remembered, and a more expensive material than whatever she could have afforded at the age of twelve. 

As if watching herself in a dream, Dani reached out. Jamie froze as Dani’s fingers curled around the chain and gently tugged her upright. Jamie followed slowly, eyes unmoving from Dani. Rubbing the coin between thumb and forefinger, Dani traced the effaced imagery, faded as though from years of being worried in just this fashion.

“You kept this?” she asked, her voice sounding too loud in the quiet darkness of this moment, this brief chamber of the world.

Jamie nodded. Her eyes were dark and indistinguishable, her expression veiled, but there was no mistaking the catch of breath in her throat when Dani’s grip made the chain tug softly at the back of Jamie’s neck. Dani stared, afraid to exhale, afraid to blink, afraid to somehow break this scene, as though they were tethered together by a string of brittle moonlit glass caught in her fist. 

There was the gentle drift of snow through the air, grayed flecks falling from the night sky and catching in Jamie’s wild curls like a net of stars. Dani only meant to let the necklace go, but they stood so close together that the furl of her fingers brushed against the corner of Jamie’s collarbone through the unbuttoned gap in her shirt. Jamie’s mouth dropped open to suck in a sharp breath, but she said nothing. Swallowing thickly, Dani dared to let her fingertips trace the hollow of Jamie’s throat, slipping between warm skin and cold chain. The trembling ghost of a touch.

The pulse at Jamie’s throat leapt beneath her thumb. Dani wanted to replace her thumb with her mouth, test Jamie’s heartbeat with her tongue. She wanted to slide her hand to the back of Jamie’s neck and tug her back against the brick cladding, hidden from sight. She wanted — and wanted —

Dani let her hand splay out against Jamie’s sternum. She pushed gently, a steady pressure, maintaining contact, so that she could feel the thud of Jamie’s chest beneath her palm. 

“You should -” Dani rasped, “You should take Mikey home. It’s late.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed. Before Dani could drop her hand however, Jamie covered it with her own, holding it in place. The circle of silver warmed beneath Dani’s hand, and Jamie said, “Wait.”  

“What is it?” Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and Dani could just make out the curve of Jamie’s smile. 

“I still need to find my keys,” Jamie said. 

Dani blinked and then snorted with sudden laughter. Jamie squeezed her fingers, grinning, still keeping Dani’s hand against her chest in a loose grip. 

“Right,” Dani said. “Right. Yeah. I’ll get the light.”

Jamie hummed in agreement. Then she lifted Dani’s hand and bowed her head. Dani watched in abject fascination, not trusting herself to breathe, as Jamie pressed a warm chaste kiss to the peak of Dani’s knuckles before — finally — letting her go. 

Dani stumbled up the steps and through the front door. She had to pause in the open doorway leading into the ink-darkened house. There were the shadows of furniture throughout, vague shapes like owl-eyed creatures through the treeline. Dani leaned back against the wall just inside, holding the door slightly shut, trying to give herself space to breathe. Her hand was clenched into a fist. She swore she could still feel the press of Jamie’s mouth against her fingers. Or perhaps that was the shiver of the cold night air. 

Flexing her hand, Dani let her head tilt back against the wall. Then, straightening herself with a deep breath, she flicked on the outdoor light and — braced against the chill — stepped out into the cold once more. 

[miracleonice87]

I’ll Take Care of You

a Tyler Seguin one shot

a/n: I’m sorryyyy. obviously this is super sad but I kept thinking of Tyler taking care of his wife in this way when they’re going through a rough time and I couldn’t get this scenario out of my head. and who knows — there just might be a part 2 in the future with a much happier ending...

summary: Tyler and his wife are met with troubling news after learning only a couple of weeks ago that they’re expecting their first child.

warnings: loss of pregnancy/miscarriage.

_____

Wordlessly, we walked out of the automatic doors of the medical practice. The sun was shining, birds were singing all around us, and the Texas sky was unbelievably blue.

Normally, she would comment on that with a cheerful grin. “Beautiful day,” or maybe, “Look at the clouds, Ty.”

Not today.

Today, she pushed her thick black sunglasses onto her nose and stared down at her sneakers.

I couldn’t blame her. I reached for her shaking hand, which she allowed me to hold in mine after an awkward beat. We walked together to my car, lost in our own all-consuming thoughts.

Today was supposed to be joyful. Today was supposed to be the day we found out how far along Peyton was, when the baby was due. Instead, we’d been whisked into the doctor’s office by the ultrasound tech with apologetic eyes who closed the door behind her. Never a great sign.

The same ultrasound tech whose eyes had darkened when she began the sonogram, Peyton’s hold on my hand tightening as we both watched on in disbelief.

Peyton’s doctor had entered his private office after us, holding her charts in his hands. He sat down in front of us, resting his elbows on his desk, launching into a scientific explanation of what was happening right now inside my wife’s body.

We only really needed to hear four words of his dozens to understand the gravity of our situation.

No heartbeat... not viable.

Peyton visibly flinched as if someone had taken a swing at her. My breath hitched and rage coursed through my veins. I tried to calm myself by staring at her, which only made it worse. I was certain I could’ve left bruises by how tightly I was gripping her thigh. I watched helplessly as the most wonderful human being I had ever met wiped tears from her face with trembling fingers, listening carefully to what her doctor had to say. She began to nod, answering questions I barely heard due to the ringing in my ears.

It could’ve been seconds or hours later, but eventually, Peyton looked at me.

“You ready?” she asked, emotionless, gathering her purse from the floor by her chair. I nodded numbly, shaking the doctor’s hand without a word before pulling the door open for Peyton, who walked into the hallway briskly, wanting desperately to escape this nightmare.

But the nightmare only got more real once it was just the two of us, all alone in my car.

I drove us back to our home in silence, black ballcap pulled low over my eyes, hopefully covering how red and swollen they’d become from holding back tears. I clutched Peyton’s hand like a vice grip. She stared out the window, sniffling periodically. She didn’t return the glances I stole.

About a mile from our street, my hands-free system dinged with a group text message, which flashed onto the display.

“To: You, Wifey ❤️

From: Jamie

What’s the news on Jamie Jr., buds?”

Alarms sounded in my head as I flung my hand forward, pressing the “Hide” button as quickly as I could. It wasn’t quick enough.

Peyton’s head had finally turned forward, and I could tell by her soft whine that she had read the message, from one of a very small number of people we had told about her pregnancy.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” I choked out, tears finally slipping down my cheeks as I brought her hand to my lips. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head. We both knew I wasn’t just talking about the text message.

Eventually, we pulled to a stop in our garage. I hustled around to her side to help her out of the vehicle. She was already stepping onto the runner boards when she began crying harder. I tugged her to my chest protectively, squeezing her in my arms as tightly as I could.

Neither of us said anything as the sobs racked her body, my silent tears now flooding my face, dropping onto her head which she’d buried into my hoodie. She gripped the fabric covering my back for dear life, nearly screaming now as she finally let her emotions overcome her.

With my arms still wrapped around her, I managed to move her into the house, where I collapsed onto the mudroom floor and pulled her into my lap. The dogs, hearing their beloved mom’s echoing cries, barked louder than they ever did when it was only the two of us entering the house. When they spotted us on the floor, they began to whine, covering us in kisses for only a second before lying down nearby. Even the animals seemed to sense that we needed our space. They kept a close eye on us as I rocked Peyton in my arms slowly, her knees pulled in to her chest, resting her full weight against me. I dropped my face to her hair as we both mourned for the little life that we had created together that was now not to be. That never even was.

As our hot tears and breathless sobs finally slowed, a million thoughts rushed through my brain, things I might say to make her — to make us both — feel better.

We can try again.

It wasn’t supposed to happen right now.

Everything is going to be fine.

They all sounded like empty lies.

Instead, I decided to say the one thing that had been on my heart since the moment we received the news. The one thing I needed her to know.

“Peyton... this is not your fault,” I whispered, cradling her head, pressing kisses to her temple over and over and over again. “This is not your fault. This is not your fault.”

My repetition prompted her tears to start once more, though not as heavily this time, as she nuzzled her head against my shoulder. She had yet to say anything.

“Peyton? I need you to look at me, babe,” I urged as I grasped her jaw, angling her eyes to meet mine at last.

“This. Is not. Your fault,” I spoke firmly when she finally looked up at me. I watched sadness continue to pool in her eyes. She didn’t move.

“Peyton, honey,” I pushed. “I need you to tell me you know that, okay? That you know this is not your fault.” I kept my hold on her jaw, using my thumb to stroke it slowly.

Finally, Peyton nodded. And it broke me all over again.

I flung both my arms around her entire body, which seemed smaller than ever curled up in my lap here on our cold tile floor, and I held her for another several minutes before speaking again.

“Want some water?” I asked quietly, kissing the skin near her ear. She nodded again. I tapped her hip lightly, signaling her to stand, as I kept a grip on her waist. We both found our feet and greeted the dogs with silent head pats before making our way into the kitchen.

“Sit,” I insisted, pulling out a barstool for her and patting it. She did as I instructed. I tossed my hat onto the island, running a hand through my unruly hair before rubbing it down my face. I turned to pull two glasses from the cabinet beside the fridge when I heard her small voice.

“It’s not your fault, either, Ty.”

I stopped, my eyes falling closed for a moment. I drew a deep breath as I opened the cabinet door. As I turned back to her with the cups in my hand, I whispered, “Yeah.”

We both knew I didn’t believe it. But that was okay. Because she hadn’t really believed it when I told her the same thing only moments earlier. That much I knew, despite her nod.

We sipped from our water glasses quietly, the only sounds in the house being the dogs’ nails as they walked across the floor. From the corner of my eye, I caught Peyton mindlessly resting a hand on her lower belly, just as she had done so often during the last two weeks. There was no bump, and now there wouldn’t be, but the act had been Peyton’s simple way of connecting with our baby. As the realization hit her, her arms fell to her side as I saw grief wash over her once more.

Standing, I coaxed Peyton off the barstool gently.

“Come on,” I whispered, hand on her lower back. “Upstairs.” She slowly dragged herself through the kitchen, down the hall, and up the long staircase, all energy seeming to have completely left her body.

I pushed open our bedroom door, both of us sensing the weight of the last time we were here together. We’d woken up in the early hours of the morning, giddy and giggly about the prospect of hearing our baby’s heartbeat and catching a first glimpse of him or her. We dreamed aloud about what the baby would be like.

Would he have brown hair like his dad? Would she have blue eyes like her mom? Hockey or basketball? Maybe a musician, or a writer. Jamie would insist on being the godfather, not that either of us would argue that, and we agreed that Candace should be godmother; Cassidy could have dibs on the next one, we would promise her, along with Peyton’s brother. One thing was certain — we already loved that child with everything in us.

And then that dream was gone, like a vapor.

With a deep sigh, Peyton sunk onto the edge of our bed. I reached for her face, holding her head between my hands as I stared at her. I pressed a slow, soft kiss to her perfect lips and whispered against her mouth, “I love you.” When I pulled back, her voice faltered as she settled for mouthing, “I love you.”

I sifted my hand through her hair as she spoke up. “I feel disgusting. Being in that office... I just feel... disgusting,” she said, hugging herself.

I nodded. Even I felt tainted by that space somehow, despite not being the one undergoing the examination. I turned my palms upward in front of her, and Peyton glanced up at me before gingerly placing her hands in mine. I pulled her into our en suite, grabbing towels out of the linen closet and turning on the shower. I turned my attention to Peyton next.

“Can I undress you, love?” I inquired. She nodded, staring at our feet. She held herself steady by leaning against my shoulders as I pulled down her jeans and panties. When I stood to pull her blouse from her torso, her eyes flicked skyward, filling with tears, and I immediately realized why.

Her normally flat belly still held a hint of a swell, bloated with the promise of what had been to come. Tears pricked at my own eyelids, and I avoided touching the area. I pulled her shirt over her head, off of her arms, and pressed her bare body against mine, resting my lips against her hairline.

“I know, sweetheart,” I soothed, kissing her forehead. “I know.” I felt her form shivering in my embrace.

I quickly removed my own clothing before guiding her into the shower in front of me. I closed the glass door behind us and ushered her beneath the warm water, pushing her hair away from her face as her head fell back against my shoulder. I pressed chaste kisses to her neck and shoulder as I let the water flow over us, hugging her waist to mine.

We stood still for several minutes, the stream soothing our tense muscles, before I reached beside me for Peyton’s shampoo.

“Ty, you don’t have to—“ “Yes, I do,” I softly interrupted.

Peyton lifted her head from my chest, and I spun her around to face me. I squeezed the floral-scented gel from the bottle and lathered it into her hair, taking extra care to massage her scalp with my nails as I washed her long locks. She released a lengthy sigh and tilted her head to allow me better access as I scrubbed her head. When I was finished, I grasped her shoulders gently and tipped her further into the streaming water to rinse her hair, pulling my hands along its length as the suds traveled down her body and toward the drain.

Next, she allowed me to repeat the routine with her conditioner, then I reached for her pink loofah to finish cleansing her. I poured her favorite body wash onto the sponge and scrubbed small circles along her neck, shoulders, arms, and breasts. I couldn’t help my hesitation when I reached her stomach. I let out a choked gasp, hot tears blurring my vision. I heard a whimper escape Peyton’s lips as I leaned my forehead against hers, slowly sliding the loofah along her abdomen as she held tightly to my arm.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her ear as I finished cleaning her torso. She shook her head once more, looking up at me with eyes softer than they’d been since morning.

“I’m sorry, too,” she responded, reaching her hand to cup my cheek.

After kneeling to lather up her backside, legs, and feet, I stood upright again and guided Peyton to sit under the other showerhead on the opposite side, on the built-in bench. She obliged, stretching her neck and back slowly, trying to roll out the tightness, as I hurriedly washed my hair and then lathered up my skin with my own loofah. After rinsing, I shut off the water, extending my hand to Peyton as she stood slowly.

“Are you feeling any pain, Peyt?” I inquired as she stepped onto the plush bath mat. I was fearful of her answer. I reached to grab our towels, tucking one around my waist before covering her shoulders with another.

“No, nothing yet,” she murmured as I began to dry her off. “Which makes it even weirder.” I nodded.

On the drive home, I had vaguely recalled the doctor saying that Peyton’s body would likely take care of the failed pregnancy naturally, and that she should expect some moderate bleeding in the next few days. If nothing happened within that time frame, Peyton was to call the office to schedule a procedure to clean out her system.

I wasn’t sure which sounded more terrifying. I was pretty certain that Peyton wasn’t sure either. And right now, I just couldn’t bring myself to ask.

I toweled Peyton off gently from head to toe, then extended a fresh towel to her so that she could wrap her own hair as she liked to do after showering.

“I’ll go get clothes while you do that,” I said. She nodded. “Thanks, hon,” she replied. I gave her my best smile as I leaned into the doorpost, but even I felt it falter before heading out toward our dressers.

I threw on a pair of boxers, pushing my fingers through my damp hair. I then pulled an old long-sleeved Team Canada t-shirt from my drawer, one of Peyton’s favorite items to steal, despite the way it nearly swallowed up her small frame, the hem falling at the middle of her thighs. I grabbed a clean pair of her panties from the “comfy section” of her lingerie drawer, as she dubbed it, and stepped back into the bathroom.

A small, genuine smile stretched across my lips as I saw Peyton’s hair swept atop her head in the bath towel I’d given her, as she squeezed the excess moisture into the terry cloth. I was forever making fun of that part of her post-shower routine. Knowingly, she returned my smirk as I passed off her clothing. She took note of my selections.

“Thank you, love,” she said quietly, pulling the towel from her head and letting it fall to the floor. I picked it up before she could bend over herself, and she gave me a grateful look as she pulled on the shirt and underwear with a sigh. I hung the towel on the hooks beside us and approached her from behind, resting my hands on her biceps as I inhaled the fresh scent of her soft, blonde hair.

“Spray your stuff in your hair and I’ll brush it for you,” I suggested, nose still atop her head. She nodded slightly. I stepped away to allow her to spritz the conditioning oil she used daily through her damp mane. When she was finished, she handed me the brush from our bathroom counter, the two of us exchanging a tender look in the mirror.

When we first began dating, I constantly had my hands in Peyton’s hair — wet, dry, messy, curled, straight. It didn’t matter. I always asked to brush it and was forever pulling on it to tease her. She was constantly pushing my hands away and accusing me of messing up her carefully coiffed styles. I tried to reign myself in, and my obsession with her locks did lessen, but only slightly. It had been ages, though, since I’d taken the time to brush her hair, and it felt like the perfect gesture in this moment — a chance to take care of her, since I was unable to fully care for her in the ways I wanted to most.

I took the brush from her and began to pull it through her locks, watching as she closed her eyes while I repeated the brush strokes. I brushed her damp head for probably much longer than I needed to as she seemed to relax a bit under my touch. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me.

“I know I keep saying it, but... thank you, Ty. Thank you for taking such good care of me,” Peyton said in a low voice. I lowered the brush to the counter and moved to stand between her legs, with Peyton wrapping her arms around my hips, head resting against my stomach.

“This is what we meant when we said in sickness and in health,” I told her, my chin resting against the part in her hair. “This isn’t going to be pretty, but I swear to God, I won’t leave your side. Not now, not ever. I’ll be here taking care of you however I can, through it all.”

I heard sniffles from her as I stepped back from her, taking her hand as I said, “Let’s just lay down.” She nodded, swiping at a couple of fallen tears, as we exited the bathroom and made our way to the bed. I pulled back the duvet and climbed in first, Peyton crawling up next to me and curling into my side. I felt her sigh once more and my heart ached so deeply for her — for us.

“I love you, Peyton,” I whispered. “I swear, we’ll make it through this. Together.”

I felt her nod slightly. “Together. I love you, too.”

With her head on my chest, after an emotionally and mentally exhausting day, and a physically draining one for her, she soon found sleep, as I silently promised that I would never give up on our dream or having a child together someday.

[vickers-n-lickers]

Moonlit pt. 2

((Contains mentions of violence and gore. BradxOC and the rest of the gang))

Horrible moans were muffled against the glass, fingers dragging long dark streaks.

Even with the blinds drawn tight, the dead knew they were in there.

"You need to go, Brad. Please… don't. Don't argue. Just go. Run before they get you…"

"I'm not going to leave you."

"You have to. You can't let them get away with this. They killed our friends. Jenna."

Her life hanging by a thread was a storm cloud hovering over them.

Check tossed in her clutch, Joan looked over herself one more time in the mirror. Cap off her lipstick, she carefully painted on a clean line, then another.

Finally paid for performing at this over the top wedding, she might be able to get the water heater fixed and take a shower in her own apartment. Jack had been up her ass for a week, every time she showed up to grab a shower there was an argument.

She never told Brad. It wasn't his problem and he had enough on his mind with work.

He would have helped…

She frowned at her reflection. Depending on someone was always a bad idea in her book.

Even with that in mind, there were things in her that unfurled every time he swung by for 'just a minute'. Things that bloomed between cups of coffee and the way he swayed with her from behind while she made dinner; hands on her hips, chin on her shoulder, humming away to Steve Miller Band crackling through on the radio.

These little things strung themselves together into an idea.

A life. One that came to her mind as easy as breathing. White picket fences, BBQ grills, his corny jokes and a pack of kids chasing one another around an inground pool. An eternal summer where fireworks and lightning bugs shifted to strings of lights and Christmas mornings where they both were half asleep wrapped up in house coats in front of a massive tree he just had to have for them.

Tiny terrors racing around the house with new toys while basset hound puppy tried to keep up.

Dumping them all off at Forest's garage for a date night, half terrified of coming back to find the kids had burned the place down. Who was she kidding? Half of the time she swung by: Forest had set the place on fire himself.

Weddings always do this to me.

The wedding reception hall still looked grand as ever, even after guests had cut a rug for half of the night. It made her smile, thinking of her own future for a moment. Gift basket in tow, she bumped into someone on her way out of the Depot. "Oops! Sorry… David." Her eyes widened.

The man simply stared at her for a moment, hair as silver as ever. There was a time she teased him about going gray so early in life. There were other times she teased him that he should pick a codename that didn't belong in a steamy romance novel about spies. What sane person called themselves Hunk?

Now she was just trying to get to the door.

"We need to talk."

"Call me tomorrow and we will," She replied quickly.

"I want to see her before I leave. I have a right to see her," the man replied lowly.

That hit a nerve. The golden light of the outdoor lamps bathed half of her face. "Your rights? Hmm, what about my right to some help raising her? How about some health insurance or dental insurance covered? How about a gift for Christmas or a fucking call on her birthday?"

Everyone stopped and stared. 

"Everything alright?" Brad asked as he stepped outside. Confusion crossed his face as Joan offered up the gift basket and her clutch.

"Peachy." Her expression was torn between pain and rage.

Vickers took one look at the man, deducing just who would have managed to gain real ire from Joan. "I'll go start the car, babe." He paused when her hand snatched at his elbow, pulling him close enough to leave a lipstick mark on his cheek.

"I'm right behind you," She said, quick and anxious.

He couldn't see the argument that broke out as he stepped off the curb and out into the darkened parking lot, but the look on his three teammates faces told him to look back.

Joan's stance was hostile, even in an evening gown. Her hands were a flurry of gestures as she spoke in a heated fashion. A look fury on her face, her gaudy jewelry glittered in the dim light of the building's entrance. The man in front of her said nothing, toying idly with the toothpick set between his jaws.  He suddenly retreated. "There you go! Walk off, it's what you're good at," followed him back inside the building.

"Jerry, Jerry, Jerry…" Chris whispered, pumping a fist. Both Wesker and Jill gave him a sour look.

Brad could only look on, sighing heavily.

Miss Piper was trying to calm the fury as she marched up the sidewalk. A bright smile appeared as she saw Brad. "Hey Baby! Are we headin' out?"

"Do you still love him?"

"BRADLEY VICKERS!"

"She whipped out the whole name. Man…" Chris grumbled from the back seat. "Don't ask stupid questions while she's driving." He undid his tie with quick fingers. "He's just had too many, Joan. Don't listen."

Vickers shook his head, looking out the window. Part of him wished he had rode along with Captain Wesker and Jill.

Even though those two have been acting weird for weeks…

"I don't love David. That was a long time ago. He's an asshole."

"He seems like a deadbeat. I've never seen the guy before tonight," Chris added, sitting back.

"He doesn't even live in the States. We met when I worked for Umbrella. I did security for a lab that manufactured vaccines in a remote region. That's all."

"That's not all. You two literally have a kid."

"Stop it, man."

She signaled left at the stop sign, turning onto Jack Street. "You've been more of a dad to Jenna than he ever was. I know it's a lot to take in, but you try at least."

"He's still her real father."

"Brad, shut up!" Chris's last attempt to intervene was cut short by Joan pulling into a parking space and slamming on the brakes. "Now she's pissed…" He muttered.

Car put into park, she looked over at Vickers as she killed the engine. "Look, I am sympathetic to your jealousy. Everyone feels that, but this isn't going to work if you're going to act like this. My daughter will always come before me and I will always try to meet her needs. It's not about me, it's about her. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you'll understand why I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than ever take David back. I love you and I love Jenna. That's it. Everyone else doesn't matter. Whatever you're thinking: put it to rest or go home and sober up."

Brad visibly flinched when she slammed the door shut. Air blown out his nose, the brunette mopped a hand over his face, quiet for a moment. "…Goddammit."

Chris unbuckled his seatbelt in silence, leaning forward to clap Brad on the shoulder. "Write her a bad poem. Give it to her with some dandelions. That should smooth things over." Unlocking the rear door, he stepped out too. "C'mon Vickers, let's get you some coffee."

Joan was behind the bar by the time the two wandered in, despite still being dressed in the same attire she'd worn while entertaining at the wedding. "It's been a long time since I saw you last, Captain. What brings you by?" Her bright eyes followed Jill and Rebecca for a moment and lifted to him as she cracked open two long necks.

A single blond brow lifted. "Boredom and babysitting."

"Oh, well then… Johnny Walker. Right?" The brunette girl's award winning smile flashed briefly. Ice, glass, and liquor after; she slid the glass over to him with a sigh. "On the house, so long as you don't start frisking people."

A long sip taken from the glass, Wesker's lips briefly pursed. "What was happening in front of the Depot?"

"Oh, you saw that? David decided to make the mistake of speaking to me." Tongue rolling along the inside of her cheek, she frowned. "Spencer's dog." Rotating her own glass against the bar, she just shook her head. "I wish I had never joined up and taken the assignment on Rockfort."

"Oh, Joan. We all had fun. Well, you didn't. He liked picking on you quite a bit."

"You were only there for three months. I was there for two years and I regret ever getting tangled up with that man. Jenna doesn't need to know him." Another glass poured, she sipped it down like spring water.

"Vickers is probably a safer bet."

"Mmm… you'd think so, but he had the great idea to piss me off too tonight."

The blond blinked, eyes going wide behind his shades as he listened. Looking for an out immediately, he found it in Jill waving him over. "You can't kill him, Joan. I need him. I'm sure he'll figure out how to make it up to you."

"We shall see…" Her eyes lifted to Miss Chambers. "Beers are on the bar, Rebecca." Turning, she carried her glass to the sink at the other side and disappeared into the back. One heel after the other pulled off, she left them behind on the cooler before she made her way to the back stoop under a blanket of stars.

When she came back in from a needed break, a napkin of all things was rolled up in one of her heels. She snorted when she read the message left on it.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I'm a jerk,

Your hair looks nice.

Rolling her eyes, she pinned it to the board with the work schedule before heading back out.

Rebecca and Jill cheered when Wesker sank the 8 ball into a pocket on the other side of the room. "We win." Rebecca beamed. "I want my jeep waxed too."

"That's not fair; you had the captain make the shot." Ed was almost pouting.

"Oh, you had no issue with him doing it when you two thought he wasn't going to win it for us!"

"Yeah, but he doesn't suck at pool. We thought he might suck at it."

"Well it serves you right for judging him. Shame on both of you." Rebecca grinned.

Leaning against the bar, Joan listened while Chris dazzled a few of the group with another tale from the Airforce. Fingers lacing with Brad's idle ones, her lips twitched up at their edges when he squeezed. Forgiveness came as a kiss against his cheek when he turned to pick up his cup of coffee.

Most of the group had taken off when the clocktower chimed at midnight. The remaining parties had ties loosened, jackets off, heels dropped and hair down at long last. Jukebox set to play the full list, Joan settled on one of the couches next to Brad. "It's 'Never Have I Ever'. Rules are simple. You take a drink if you've done the thing the person says they've never done. Alright, I'll start." Joan sighed. "Never have I ever owned a dog."

Everyone else groaned, taking a drink.

Brad was next. "Never have I ever flown with an airline."

Everyone else took a drink.

Chris was next, peering at his drink for a moment. It was time to start getting creative. "Never have I ever had sex with Brad."

Joan rolled her eyes at the collective snickering, taking a drink.

His date, Morgan, followed. "Never have I ever had sex with a woman."

Every man and Joan took a drink. Brad nearly choked. "What?"

Joan just shrugged. “I dated her for three years too.”

Jill peered at her glass for a moment, elbows on her knees. "Never have I ever been out of the country."

Most of the group had to take a drink.

Wesker sighed a bit, peering towards the bar as he thought. "Never have I ever paid for sex."

Brad and Joan both took a drink. Both gave the other a sidelong look.

Chris about died laughing right then and there. "Joan, you need to open up more to us. We're clearly not getting the best stories during happy hour."

"I think we all want to hear this story." Wesker smirked a bit, arm stretching along the back of the couch both he and Jill occupied.

Glass on the squatting table, she laughed. "Alright, alright. Is it safe to assume that you were saying that you never paid a working girl for their time?"

"I suppose you could, yes."

"I paid a woman in Germany for her time because it was on my bucket list. We ended up going to a movie and eating at a Donor Kebab stand. Her name was Sindy with an 'S'. I loved her to pieces."

"That's not paying for sex, though." Chris replied, sighing deeply. "I thought we were going to hear one of these wild and crazy 'Joan Piper: Lady of the Night' stories."

"I bet she remembers Joan still, unlike any man that crawled on top of her and wheezed his way through two minutes of the best time of his life." Jill uttered.

Albert let out a snort, shaking his head.

Joan's pearl grin was visible even in the dim light. "Alright, my turn. Never have I ever learned how to speak German fluently."

Only Albert took a drink, a couple brows raised.

"Never have I ever given oral."

Everyone just stared.

"That's not something you want to say in this game, Brad." Chris snorted, covering his face with a palm as he began to laugh. Red faced, he wiped away a few tears. "Oh shit, I'd be lost without you in my life Vickers."

"This is rather educational." Wesker uttered, receiving a slap to the arm from the female to his left. "What?"

Breath relaxing, Chris leaned back next to Morgan. "I've never… Huh, gotta think for a bit. Oh, Never have I ever had a 'ménage a trois'."

Jill's eyes were the size of dinner plates as not only did Miss Piper take a drink but… "What, really?"

Albert merely lifted a single blonde brow after taking a sip from his drink. "What? It was a long time ago."

Brad's jaw about fell to the floor.

"Wait, we heard my paying for sex story. You have to tell us about the threesome."

A deep sigh and Wesker pitched his gaze toward the ceiling. "It was during college, the two ladies living across from me in the dormitories—…"

"Okay, I've heard enough." Jill refilled her glass. "Sounds like the opening of a porno."

"We are spending way too much time together when Captain Wesker is talking about having a three way." Brad mumbled.

Chris's face was in both of his hands as he laughed.

Stare shifted to Jill, Wesker shrugged. "I was eighteen. Nobody would have passed that opportunity up."

Across from them, Joan leaned in to speak quietly to Brad.

"They're fuckin'."

Brad just nodded.

"You really think those two are?" Sleeves rolled up, Brad dunked another glass in soapy water.

"Who?" Joan asked, hanging her dress from a knob to one of the cabinets. Dressed down in a sweater and jeans, she felt a million times better.

"You know who. Captain Perfect and his best gal pal?"

She grinned, wiping down the glossy top of the bar. "They are or they're going to. It was pretty obvious when she reacted like that." She looked over to Brad. "Nobody is perfect, though."

Glasses set on the rack, Brad swiped the bar towel from her to dry his hands. "That could have been us."

Arms stretching above her head, the woman sighed. "True. We would have been forced to sneak around, only able to see one another during graveyard shifts. Screwing in your aircraft. So romantic…"

Brad snorted. "I'll talk to her about it. It might save her some headache."

"I thought this was strip poker." Forest said, taking a look at his hand.

"Well, the only one here who would want to see something like that is Richard…" Ed muttered.

Richard let out a chuckle. "None of you are my type, thanks for thinking of me though, asshole." A pearly grin appeared across his face when everyone else at the table chuckled. "Callin' it… Oh what the fuck, Brad."

"That's like the fourth hand, dude!" Joseph groaned, cards dropped on the table. "He's cheatin'."

"I don't cheat," The brunette sounded hurt when he gathered up his chips.

"Yeah, Joe. He doesn't cheat. We'd know if he ever did. Joan would be on CNN screaming she'd toss him in the wood chipper again." Forest replied with a smirk, finishing off his beer. "How long have you two been together?"

Brad cut the deck, shrugging. "Little over two years now?" His brow furrowed at the expressions all around. "What? Why?"

"When are you going to ask her?" Kenneth reached down, picking up his lighter.

"Ask her what?"

Everyone sighed.

"Ask her to marry you, dumbass." Joseph tossed off his bandana, raking a hand through bright red hair. "Have you even looked at a ring?"

"He's got one…" Forest leaned in, squinting… leaning in more when Brad recoiled. "…He's carrying it right now."

"How the fuck do you do that, man?" Vickers couldn't even react before Joseph had snaked a hand into the pocket of his vest, fishing out a box.

"Jackpot, boys. Ahhhhh! Hey!" His hand jerked to avoid a swipe at it. "We get to see it before you give it to her."

"It might be a Ring Pop and that's not going to work, chief," Kenny replied, the ash from his cigar flicked into the tray on the table. His brows lifted when the box was offered over to him. "Mmm… that's pretty nice."

Forest wrinkled his nose when he looked at the ring tucked in white satin lining. He let the box go when it was snatched. "You couldn't afford this. Are you a drug lord now?"

"It was my great grandmother's. Lay off." Brad replied, tucking the box away. He went right back to shuffling the cards.

"It's a nice ring, Brad," Richard added, trying to lower the temperature of the room. "When do you think you'll ask?"

"I'm asking her at the jazz festival."

"That's not until September," Ken commented, confused.

Cracking open another bottle, Joseph snorted. "He's going to need until then to get up the courage."

Dealing out cards, Brad was fuming. "Joseph, when was the last time you went on a date?"

"I can't go on dates, Brad. You know your mom gets jealous." He and his chair suddenly went over when Brad put him in a headlock.

Forest's jaw dropped.

Ed cackled up a storm. "Get 'im Vickers!"

"Can you guys stop so we can play some fuckin' cards?" Richard asked, picking up his drink as the cards, chips, and table went toppling over. "…Nevermind."

The house was older but it had a new roof. The white picket fence needed some work, grass growing tall along it. One of the windows in the back had a crack in it. A new coat of paint needed to be slapped on the south side. It would need some love, but they had plenty to spare.

Sunliner in the driveway, Joan pulled another box out of the backseat. She left it in a room painted in a cozy rose color. It would be Jenna's room soon. She took her time walking to the back door, turning about to gaze around.

A house, a real house.

She was going to get everything she wanted after all. A glass of sun tea in tow, it took some jiggling to get the back door open. "I think that needs fixed too."

Brad looked up from the lawnmower turned on its side. "Same with this, thanks babe." He drained the glass in seconds. It was unusually hot for late spring. "I think I'm just going to call a landscaper. This isn't working."

"Jack said it worked last week. Who knows…" Sitting down next to him, she took a moment to admire the ring on her hand. It always brought a little smile to her lips. So did he. "I'm just happy I get to wake up every morning and kiss you while living on Kiss Street."

Brad's turn for an eyeroll. "Cheese ball." His attempt to get away was met with a firm grip on his shirt and lips stealing a kiss.

"Just think... we'll be married next October."

He smiled fondly. "I can't wait."

Red pooled between them.

"I love you, Brad. I… We had a good life together." She worked the ring off her finger, offering it up. He still had a chance. She wasn't going to let that memory die with her.

He hesitated, then tucked the ring into his vest. "I love you too…" There was no arguing with her at this point. Her hands in his, he kissed her knuckles one last time.

She was already gone.

He wept in the dark for her.

[imnotwolverine]

Ready, set, …

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: Set life has its quirks and challenges. A fluffy, smutty Henry fanfiction to get you through the week. Bedroom fun found at the end. Ps. I should start thinking of a name for this series, any good suggestions?

Word count: 5.832

Disclaimer: smut and fluff

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This is part 3 of the Tea for Two story. 

Find the masterlist here.

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< Back to part 2

An early alarm clock went. 5 am. I heard Henry groan as he rubbed his eyes. ‘Fuck.’ He moped softly, pushing himself off the bed and silencing the alarm. I looked at his naked, muscular, slightly hairy form, grasping for clothes. Kal got up yawning and stretching in turn. The morning ritual. I looked at Henry sleepily. ‘Early shoot?’ I whispered. He rumbled. ‘They changed lines. I forgot that meant an early day.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, wiping some hair from my face. ‘Hello princess.’ He said softly. ‘Well, you go do your Witchy things then. I’ll see you soon.’ I rumbled. He smiled, bending over to kiss me. ‘And we might need some new condoms at your place…just in case.’ He nodded at the dusty pack of condoms that lay discarded on the night stand. I chuckled as he kissed me more deeply. Tongues fighting. He moved on top of me, his weight pressing me down. ‘Mmpff.’ He huffed in frustration. ‘Alright.’ He sighed and nodded while unwillingly getting up. ‘Time to go. Come on Kal. See you dear.’ He blew a kiss and left. Moments later I heard the door closing behind him softly.

The first few days flew by. It was less erratic at work. Much more hectic personally. Somehow press really got air of something happening. We saw tele lenses sticking out of bushes, the odd journalist jumping us when we were drinking tea outside of the warehouses in a short break. ’Mr. Cavill. Who’s this? Are you dating?’ The loud shrieky voice sounded in my neck. I had difficulty not showing utter disgust when a camera was pushed in our faces. ‘Good sir,’ Henry said, getting up, placing his hand on the journalists chest. ‘This is private property. I must ask you to leave and request permission to shoot at the Chamber of MM Media.’ ‘But are you dating?! Mr Cavill?!’ The journalist continued, while one of the security men came strolling in, grasping the man by his shirt and pulling him away. ‘How do you stay so calm?’ I grinned, taking my last sip of tea, watching Henry sitting back down. People around us didn’t even seem very impressed, already having continued with their activities. ‘It gets easier.’ He gave me a sweet smile, which truly was creepy when he was in full costume. ‘What’s the planning for the rest of your week?’ He asked, fetching his phone from his pocket. It was Wednesday. ‘Free Friday afternoon, shopping materials for Poland on Saturday, which we’ll probably discuss on Sunday, then free again on Monday.’ He scrolled through his agenda. I took the hint and grabbed my phone as well, moving it around on the table so he could see my schedule. He grinned, looking up at me. ‘Let me get to the wardrobe department and see if we can get you off the hook on Sunday. I want to take you out for a trip.’ I raised my eyebrow. “CAST CALL, RUN THROUGH IN 5, HALL 2.4..” He looked up, then quickly returned my phone. ‘Would you like that?’ ‘Yea. Sure.’ I said, not quite sure what trip meant in this case. I shrugged as he gave me a quick peck on the lips and rushed off to hall 2.

It sure was magical, how quickly he could fix such things. Within the hour, my manager dropped by to tell me I could take the Sunday off - which usually was out of the question. I looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. ‘Orders from above.’ I squinted my eyes in disbelief. Above? But there we go. It soon was Saturday and I was in the minivan with the department, getting back from a successful shopping trip. Everyone made sure to quickly move all materials to the shipping boxes, ready to go to Poland, snipping off little bits to use for the mood-boards. After that I walked to the hall where they were shooting the last few scenes. I sat down in a director’s chair and sipped on some green tea, looking at the hustle and bustle.

Anya plopped down in the chair next to me. ‘His kisses are different now.’ She said abruptly. I looked up, raising my eyebrows. She smiled an endearing smile, then studied me for a bit. ‘Had a good shoot day?’ I asked. She shrugged. ’Twas okey. Yours?’ ‘Got some pretty materials for your future dresses actually’ ‘Mmm! Cool. Hey, but about those kisses. I think he really, really likes you. He seems different..’ He cocked her pretty head, pouting in thought. ‘Really…’ I smiled, then looked at my cup of tea. ‘So are you joining him to the premiere?’ She asked in girlish curiosity. ‘The premiere? Oh, no. I’ll let you have the honours. Don’t want to have fans going wild over some casual girl on his arm.’ She squinted at me. ‘They first thought I was the worst choice EVER for Yennefer. Now they make fan porn of me. Fans are so weird.’ She shrugged giddily. ‘I’ll let them have the illusion of Hollywood for a moment longer.’ I winked. She laid her hand over mine. ‘He accidentally grunted your name when we shot a make out scene.’ We both snickered. ‘This conversation is so weird.’ I said, laughing at her. She shrugged. ‘Actors life.’

Not much later the last scene was cut and a flurry of set members once again flew out. Anya plopped out her chair, wrapping her arms around a tall man with full sleeve arm tattoos. She kissed him with childish excitement. Without looking back they walked out together, in full conversation. ‘Ready?’ I shot up in shock from his voice. He had sneaked up behind me and was standing there with his coat flung over his shoulder. He had already changed into his regular attire. ‘Ooph.’ I laughed. ‘You are quiet as a mouse.’ I wiggled out of the chair and smiled at him. He pecked me on the lips before holding out his arm, inviting me to take it. We walked out to his car as it was just getting dark. 8.30 pm. ‘Now for our trip. I’m invited by my horse riding trainer to a farm, just squeezing in a few hours in the saddle before Poland. I figured it’d be a nice outing.’ I looked at him. ‘Horse riding?’ ‘Like all fair knights do!’ He grinned. ‘Alright. Fair prince.’ I slithered. ‘Let’s fetch stuff at our houses, walk Kal, then drive there.’ ‘This evening still?’ ‘Yep, might as well get the drive over with. Can you drive?’ ‘Yea, want to switch?’ ‘No no. Just. Curious. Shift?’ ‘Of course. European remember?’ He snickered. ‘Americans ARE lazy.’

We had some quick food, fetched our things, walked Kal, then jumped into the car to drive north. It was deep in the night when we arrived. About 1-ish. And there was nothing around except for this romantically lit farm house with some barns. We jumped out and walked up to the house, some dogs greeting us with loud barks, tails wagging. A man came out in his night shift. ‘Ey ey. Easy boys…. Mr Cavill!’ A gruff, smoke-heavy voice sounded. ‘Mr. Games!’ The men greeted with loud pats on each others backs. ‘And ye brought a sweet thing with you.’ Henry moved aside, smiling at me. ‘Lisa. And careful. She can be feisty.’ Mr Games rumbled a loud laugh and hugged me tight. ’Welcome dear. Ai that wonderful smell about you. Honeysuckle?’ I looked at him in disbelief. ‘Actually yes. I don’t like perfume’s sold on the market so I wear..honeysuckle.’ ‘Such fine smell.’ He folded his arm around my back and guided us to the main house. ‘I got ye a nice little bed made. And ye know where everythin’ is. Make yourself at home. Me wife already hit the hay, so I’ll  join ‘er if ye don’t mind.’ He chuckled with insinuating tone. ‘Of course.’ Henry said, winking. Mr Games prodded him playfully. ‘HA HA HA.’ He laughed a little too loudly, then nodded at me, before holding the door open for me. We walked inside. It was dimly lit. A wooden structured house with heavy beams, the smell of hay and horses protruding from its very core. The furniture was old english style. ‘Yer room is upstairs, hallway, far left. Bathroom right across. Sleep tight good folk.’ He whistled and his dogs eagerly followed him up the stairs, his short stubby legs making the stair steps creak heavily.

Henry yawned. ’Night cap?’ I looked at him. ‘Sure, why not. We’re off for 2 days, gods be blessed!’ I exclaimed. ‘Are you religious by the way? I’ve never asked.’ ‘Nope. You?’ ‘No, raised Christian, but not following.’ He pulled open some cabinets in the kitchen and pulled out two small brandy glasses and a bottle of strong liquor. ‘He makes his own, so, fair warning: it is strong.’ He put the filled glasses on the table. ‘Do you believe in a God?’ I asked. He sat down opposite of me, looking out at the dark fields outside. ‘I think it would be practical if there were a God. But never have I seen or heard him. So no, not a believer.’ We clinked our glasses. ‘And when did you learn to ride horses?’ ‘At my parents actually. We grew up on the Jersey Islands and our neighbours kept two ponies. Darling horses, but also so darn stubborn.’ He grinned. ‘Could you tell me about your sweetest memory of your youth, living there?’ I asked. He rolled around the drink in his glass, thinking. And so we talked for another hour or so. Eventually so tired, all we wanted to do was sleep.

It was around 10 when we woke up. And made love, as morning Henry so enjoys doing. I felt my innards burning from his pounding, laying on my back heaving heavily. ‘Goodness me.’ I laughed as he rolled over and supported his head, letting a finger travel over my body. He was panting slightly. I finally opened my eyes, seeing he was looking a bit pained. I reached out to him. ‘Hi.’ I said. ‘Hey.’ He returned, his eyes twitching between loving and regretful. I looked down at his glorious body, noticing something… missing. ‘C…ondom?’ His face broke in agony, his gaze looking at something on the bed table. ‘It broke.’ ‘Wow..you..’ I got up in shock, looking at rubber, then at him. ‘Do we need to get you a morning after pill?’ He said meekly. ‘Hopefully not, I am pretty steadfast with the pill.’ I looked at him in disbelief. He sighed, ashamed. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I let out a breath I was holding. ‘Oh I’m so glad I use the pill. Please tell me next time. Oh my..this could have gone wrong.’ He sat up, looking apologetically at me. ‘I’m so sorry.’ ‘It’s okey. I just..didn’t notice.’ I sighed, then looked at him lovingly. ‘It should be alright.’ I continued, cupping his cheek. He smiled weakly, then pulled me close. ‘Ohhh. I’m such a fool!’ He said melodramatically. I snickered as I pulled his heavy body on top of me, hugging intently.  

The day was filled with horses. Saddling horses, walking with horses, riding horses, combing horses, haying horses, moving horses from field to field. Henry clearly got the knack for it, gently and without force leading the horses around. ‘It’s all in the hips and eye contact.’ He said, leading a mare ahead, with a few horses following. It was just the two of us, as Mr. Games was drying off some horses at the stables. The day was running late and food smells were flowing out of the kitchen. ‘Mares love good hips huh?’ I joked, earning a cocky smile from him. ‘Well all joking aside, my hips are …sore.’ I said, somewhat surprised by that. He laughed at me sweetly. ‘Then let us rest.’ He said. ‘I thought you’d never say it.’ I grinned with a mocking tone. He raised an eyebrow at me, smirking.

The days flew by and before we knew it we were driving back to the Hollywood Hills. The return of bright lights, stressed out honking cars and general mess that was the city, I couldn’t help but sigh. I loved my work, my friends, the closeness of everything you need, but there sure were downsides to living in the city. He squeezed my leg while he drove south to drop me off at home. Our goodbye was sweet and relaxed. It had been good to be with each other for longer then just a few minutes. The eraticness was gone and had made place for trust and comfort. We kissed a long while in front of my door, Kal waiting impatiently to go in like he usually would. But this time we really said goodbye at the door. I stood and watched while Henry made his way down the stairs, Kal following with wagging tail. Down the stairs he turned around to look up, waving at me one last time before disappearing. We were getting better at it, I smiled, walking inside of my dark apartment. I didn’t even bother turning on lights, just dropping my stuff, brushing my teeth and heading for bed. It would be another busy week. And, the last week here in the US, which made shooting all the more crazy.

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I was exhausted by the time it was Saturday. I could sleep anywhere, anytime. And yet I had to pack my stuff for my flight tomorrow evening. It was only now I really started to miss Bib. Usually it would be a whole hustle to get my way too old cat in the plane, having to do all these health checks, her being completely paranoid for the rest of the day. No more of that. I plopped on my bed. It was 11.30pm. I opened my Whatsapp to check on any messages. No message from him yet. I sent him a kissing emoji, followed by a sleeping emoji. ‘Flying tomorrow. When do you get to Poland?’ I fell asleep and only woke up again when the alarm clock buzzed 8 hours later. I groaned. He had responded. ‘Sleep well dear. Probably arrive there on Wednesday evening if all goes well. Wish I could travel with you :) Safe travels and contact me when you arrived!’ Followed by a picture of all his stuff being packed. All the picture frames, dog toys, some workout gear, put into boxes. I snickered. I didn’t bring quite as much with me. Just clothes and a few books. I owned this home and kept all my valuables in a locked closet, then rented out the apartment to colleagues who worked here off and on as well. I had to miss my stuff for these months, but oh well.

We were flying. I was completely dazed, barely striking up conversation with colleagues flying with me. I was too darn tired and all I wanted was that day off after landing. If anything I realised full well I wouldn’t be able to keep up this lifestyle forever. It made good money, which I invested wisely just so in a few years I could settle down and pick a more quiet hobby-that-made-some-money and live off the earnings of my investments. Always better than what most colleagues were doing; blowing through the money like there was no tomorrow. Expensive cars, clothes, going out for dinner every single night and then complaining they couldn’t go to the dry cleaners multiple times a week. Silly folk. I watched a simple romcom, listened to some music, tried to sleep in the rather uncomfortable seat I was situated in (squeezed in between two sizeable ladies who were talking extremely loud and were sweating like whales). I couldn’t describe the happiness when the captain announced we were starting to land.

*Lapalice caste*

It was morning in Poland, the sky and buildings as grey as last we were here. The communist building style really didn’t do any good for this culture. Nevertheless, it was a relief when the crew’s bus arrived and we were transported to the countryside. We were starting the set build at a castle, an artistic 20th century interpretation, absolutely lovely. A small encampment had already been made with running water, hot showers and a large food area. This would do for the next month. Our manager immediately started with nudging us to come up with ideas for the brainstorming session tomorrow, but I, like everyone else, simply ignored her. ‘Tomorrow Lazz. Don’t want to have more of us burned out.’ One of the men said, tapping her on the shoulder. We were escorted to our quarters. Shamefully..it were small bunk beds. I rolled my eyes. Well, no privacy then. Trying to stay awake for a little while longer I walked around a bit and sent a selfie with the set in the background to Henry. ‘Smells medieval to me!’ I added. ‘Gonna switch to European SIM. Add my number: 316123456789.’ Also, being back in Europe, and having switched sim cards, I took the opportunity to give my mother a call. She answered after some waiting. Always a busy woman.

‘Dear! How are you? Oh such things I’ve heard! Are you sleeping well?’ She rattled in dutch. ‘Hi mom. I’m pretty good. Kind of jet-lagging. Just arrived in Poland. So, mostly trying to stay awake now haha. How are you guys?’ ‘So good! Oh, exciting news. We got permission to start rebuilding the back of the house. It’s gonna be so pretty. I’ll send you the drawings.’ ‘Cool! With the wooden porch?’ ‘Yes. Oh it’s going to be lovely. Hey but what did I hear..or read. Are you pregnant?’ ‘What? No mom. Who told you that?’ ‘Oh my sister, you know she loves following your work. She told me you were seen with this actor and he was touching your belly and all.’ ‘If I would be pregnant I’d surely not forget to tell you mom. No. No babies coming. But I am dating, yes.’ ‘Is he good to you? Or is it a she? That’s fine too.’ ‘It’s a guy. Actor yes. And he’s a darling.’ ‘Oh so maybe babies at some point then?’ ‘Mommm.’ ‘What?! I had babies by your age.’ ‘You’re insufferable at times mom. So how are grandma and pa?’ I diverted the conversation. ‘Not great, you should call them. They have moved to a senior house and they absolutely detest it. Poor folk.’ ‘Ay…’ We chatted for a while longer. It was good to speak to her again, her voice rattling happily through the phone. At times it’s hard to remember how important family is, until you reconnect.

I ended the call and saw some more messages coming in from Henry (seen as an unknown number, since I switched SIM card). A whole selfie diary of what he had been doing that day. Working out, walking the dog, some more firewood with a shrugging emoticon (definitely hinting at jerking off) and finally a selfie of him having lunch with some of the cast. I snickered. ‘Busy man! And miss you a lot :) Especially seeing the tiny, tiny bunkbeds they got us xD Goodbye privacy..’ I typed. He responded. ‘We’ll make up for that on Wednesday then.’ Wink. I smiled, then wondered if they had installed the trailers yet for the lead actors. I started strolling around the area, and sure enough the shiny aluminium trailers appeared at the far edge of the campsite.

The next few days was mostly just scouting the area for good shoot locations, collecting material and starting the build of the set for the first week. It was decidedly more relaxed then the previous weeks. To which I was glad. It also did wonders for the team spirit. Many nights we were huddled around campfires, drinking hot wine and making music. It sure felt like a small holiday. And I got to know my colleagues a whole lot better. We worked in a team of 15 for set design. 2 Of them were apparently going to get married in a month’s time, right after our crew was let off, 5 of them had gone to the same college, and most of them were utterly curious about my relationship with Henry. I kept it a bit under the wraps, but spoke honestly about how much fun we had. And how normal it felt. And yes, we were all official. ‘You are..so lucky. Urgh.. Why not me?’ One of my gay colleagues blurted out. We all snickered. ‘It’s the vagina I’d say..otherwise you surely would have had a shot.’ I winked. He warped his mouth in oo-ing shape. ‘Oh Hell! I’d let myself be rebuilt if that means I’d have a shot.’ We all belted out a loud laugh.

Wednesday came. The sun was starting to break through the grey clouds for the first time these days. How suitable, I thought, sipping my morning tea while looking over the hunting grounds that were being prepped for a scouting scene. More bushes, white biodegradable dye after which fake snow would be added. We were sitting around a large wooden board on two scaffolds, serving as huge meeting table. Materials for clothes were splayed out. I wasn’t really paying attention, since this part of the production would be running when I was already off-duty. ‘Hey, whatcha think, light or darker blue for him?’ One of the ladies woke me from my day dreaming. I stood up and looked at the scraps of fabric. ‘Darker. Besides the bias works better on this fabric.’ The lady smiled contently. ‘I told you.’ She said, looking at the other dressmaker who shrugged in slight annoyance. ‘Like she knows anything about cloth making.’ She shot me a dirty look. I shrugged in return, smiling. ‘Who knows!’ Which annoyed her even more. ‘It is indeed a better fabric to cut on bias though.’ The other woman retorted, nodding at me to acknowledge me. After they wrapped up their little meeting, the woman came up to me. ‘You sew?’ I looked up in confusion. ‘A bit. Made some costumes for fun before I got this job actually.’ ‘Good. And you helped buy they fabrics too right?’ ‘I was more a dumb force dragging along fabric rolls, if that counts as helping.’ She smirked. ‘Well silly questions maybe. But..Any chance we can borrow you for a few hours tomorrow and stand in for some fittings. Much better then that Polish girl they found. Can’t speak english, doesn’t understand fit..Urgh. And can’t have Ciri look like a mess.’ I raised my eyebrow, surprised by the request. ‘Uhmm..I’ll have to check my schedule. We’re doing a run-through around 12. And..and I’m not sure we share the same..build…Freya and I’ ‘That’ll be fine. Both small figure. We’ll do a further fit when she arrives - she got delayed…actresses…’ I shrugged, looking at my phone to check my schedule. ‘Alright.’

Not much later the main crew arrived in a large black bus. The first one getting out was Kal, who sprinted out like he hadn’t seen daylight in days. He sniffed and peed everywhere and greeted people with great excitement. The crew gladly petted him and started helping unpacking. Henry and Anya were in conversation when they got off the bus, joking around. Freya indeed wasn’t there. Hmm.. Then Henry noticed me and smiled an even broader smile. He walked up to me, carrying some of his luggage which he dropped to the muddy grass to give me a deep kiss. ‘Hi princess.’ ‘Hey you.’ I said with cheeky smile. He looked up to see what Kal was doing, now playing with one of the camera guys. He sniffled. ‘Good to be here. How are you?’ ‘Good actually. It’s been some lovely relaxed days, just building up, having campfires and the weather’s getting better too. How was your trip?’ ‘Decent. Some turbulence which got the ladies screaming.’ He rolled his eyes with amusement. I snickered. ‘But all went well…’ He fell quiet for a bit and looked at me. And I just returned his quiet stare, smiling. ‘Already found my trailer?’ ‘In the back, far right. A trailer with a view of the lake.’ I winked. ‘Best view in town.’ He smiled in return, folding an arm around me. The very weight making me have to shift my feet in the slippery grass. He stared out over the fields around him, looking at the crew walking around with set pieces, smiling proudly. I just took the moment to wrap my arm around his lower back, leaning into him.

‘Yea let’s get my stuff to the trailer and find something to eat. I’m starving.’ He said, his stomach rumbling. I snickered, diving away from underneath his arm and walking to the bus to grab some of the stuff I knew to be his. We walked up to his trailer, his PA already waiting there to hand him his key and schedule for the first week. ‘Argh..and back to dehydration nightmare again.’ He said, glancing over the schedule. We moved his stuff in, unpacked all his picture frames and put them on top of the floating kitchen cupboards and set up some dog food and water for Kal. He walked back to the door, pulling it closed. I could see his eyes darken with lust while he pinned me against the kitchen block. ‘No bunk bed here.’ He growled. ‘Mmm I have to do a run-through in 10. Later.’ I whispered in between his shower of kisses. ‘Mmpff.’ He cupped my jaw in his large hands. ‘I can’t wait.’ ‘I know.’ I snickered, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before moving to get back outside. He stopped me with one arm, grabbing me around the waist. He bit my neck playfully. ‘Rrr.’ He growled into my ear. I giggled, squirming in his arm. ‘Let me go!’ I puffed, pushing down his arm. He turned me around with great ease and looked at me, this time more sweetly, then smiled sheepishly. ‘Come look for me when you’re done.’ He said. I nodded, then pried myself out of his iron grip and made way for the set.

The camp fires were lit again and dinner was served. With the crew slowly growing in size it became more rowdy. I joined Henry and some stunt men around a fire, huddled against him while forking around in a plate of Chinese food. It was rather bland shamefully. The men were enthusiastically talking through some of the stunt work that had been planned. Burning building jumps, fighting with dogs, monster fights, the whole shebang. Henry was joining in with great excitement. He loved doing as much stunt work on his own as he could. A little boy’s dream of his. His arms flexed while he talked, his eyes gleaming. After dinner however, he soon lost out to his jet lag. He poked me out of my dreaming stare into the fire and whispered. ‘Join me?’ I nodded and smiled a tired smile. Without further ado we excused ourselves, I brushed my teeth and went to his trailer, Kal already sleeping on the floor, only his ears twirling up in curiosity.

Just moments after he turned the lock on the door I could feel his hands roam over my body. He pulled me flush against his chest, my back towards him as he sniffed my hair. ‘I missed this smell of you.’ He rumbled, lust trailing his voice. I sniffled, turning my head slightly so I could kiss him. ‘I’ve missed YOU.’ I whispered against his lips, a smile on my lips. His arms folded around me, squeezing me even closer as his head dipped down, his lips blazing a trail on my neck. ‘Very funny..Now..I would like to be patient, but…’ He swirled me around with a force I had not experienced of him yet. I barely had time to register what was happening when he swooped me up in his arms, needing just a few long strides to lay me on the bed at the back of the trailer. He quickly stripped off his clothes as I stared at him, my dazed head needing a good moment to take in what was happening while my gaze fell on his rushed striptease. I didn’t even think about undressing myself. He took my breath away as he had done a dozen times by now. That hair tumbling in unruly curls around his face, his flexing muscles, the slight smirk on his lips and that godly chest hair. By the time he looped his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers, he raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Undress.’ He simply commanded, his voice dark. I obliged gingerly, quickly wriggling myself out of my comfy outfit as I laughed at his impatience.

I was just about to unclasp my bra when he pushed me down on the bed, crawling on top of me. I gasped as one of his hands slipped around my throat (even though he was careful) and I immediately halted any further attempts to remove my underwear as his heavy body pushed me down, his lips meeting mine. Eager hands slipped down my panties, feeling how wet I already was for him. He rumbled a low chuckle as he reached his arm out towards a small drawer next to the bed, his eyes not leaving mine. I raised an eyebrow as he rumaged around in the drawer, finding what he was looking for: a condom. He kept his eyes trained on me as he ripped the packaging with his teeth, not looking away once. I felt myself get wetter by the second as I looked in his lust-laced eyes, hearing  his ragged breath. He pumped his erection a few times before putting the condom on, his eyes finally trailing away. He looked down at his erection, now eagerly pressing against my hip. And he sure liked what he saw, because when he looked back up there was that all-familiar question in his eyes. I took a shallow breath, which was apparently enough of an answer as he pressed his lips against me more feverishly.

He was..impatient..to say the least. His lips bruised mine deliciously, making me moan and groan in response while his right hand moved aside my panties. He guided his erection to my folds, rubbing it generously against my core - earning another longing moan from me. Then he got up a bit, making eye contact once more. DO IT - I thought, but he waited, just tilting his head slightly. And so I wrapped my legs around his hip, pulling him inside of me. We both gasped, savouring the feeling of becoming one. He slumped forward a bit, leaning heavily on his arms as his head dunked down to bite the soft skin of my neck. Without breaking contact, he slowly pumped out, before pushing all the way back in. I groaned. He was so big. And hard. I scratched at his back as he started to slowly up his pace. ‘That smell.’ He rumbled, lowering it to a tone that sounded more like Geralt then Henry. I groaned and moaned as he started a frantic speed. ‘Oh gods.’ I moaned as his lips attacked my neck, jawline, cheek, forehead, eyelids. He did not leave one bit of skin untouched.

I felt he was getting closer to his release and tried to pry one of my hands in between us, to stimulate myself. He groaned, realising he had neglected my needs. I opened my eyes, seeing he gave me a pleading look before he pulled my arm away, pushing me over on my belly before pulling my hip up. My head still pressed to the mattress and my butt in the air, I felt a bit vulnerable. I tried to turn my head to see him, but he pushed my shoulder down. ‘Like that.’ He said darkly, and before I could protest he pushed back inside of me again. I groaned. He could reach even deeper in this position, hitting my cervix in a way I wasn’t sure I was enjoying fully. I wanted to sit up, change the position, but his strong arm kept pushing me down. He started to push into me again, something I wasn’t so very much enjoying. ‘Babe..’ I gasped, my voice laced with pain. He folded over me, pausing his thrusting as he finally touched my bud. I could feel his lips on the skin of my naked back. ‘That better?’ He asked, a touch concerned. I immediately felt that all familiar electricity coil up inside. I gasped again. He bent over further, involuntarily moving inside of me. I squealed it out as he hit an unfamiliar place inside of me, an orgasm bursting through me making my whole body shake. Was that my g-spot? I thought after some seconds. I had even forgotten about Henry’s heavy body pushing into me, only realising he was asking me if I was okay when the haze lifted. ‘Baby? Hey?’ He was holding himself still, his lips next to me ear. I finally managed to turn my head towards his face, a smile on my lips. ‘That was..’ I started..but couldn’t finish. I burst out into laughter. He nuzzled my cheek, finally understanding. A husky laugh rumbled through his chest. ‘Are you okay?’ He finally asked, his face more serious now. I nodded, closing my eyes and wiggling my hips, immediately feeling his erection hard inside me.

Staying folded over me like he was shielding me from the world, he started pulling and pushing into me. Again and again..and again. And boy. Did it feel good this time. His hand once more circled my nub while he played around with the angles of his thrusts. The higher he moved up my body, the more frantic were my shivers. I wasn’t even sure if it was just one very long second orgasm bursting through, or several. Not that I could even care anymore. I groaned, moaned and shivered while he pushed into me, his orgasm finally taking him over the edge as well. He groaned as his seed spilled inside of me, releasing the hand from my nub to steady himself. He took a few deep breaths, stilling himself, before gently pulling out. I flopped down on my belly, still shivering, while he rolled on his side. Our eyes met, a smirk on his lips. ‘I’ll remember that.’ He finally said as his hand travelled over my slightly shivering body. I sniffled, moving closer to kiss him. ‘Hi.’ I smiled, still dazed from my orgasms. ‘Hi.’ He responded, smiling a broad smile, pulling me even closer, folding his arms protectively around me. He nuzzled me, taking a calm breath. ‘How I missed you.’ I nodded in agreement, too spent to talk and instead just enjoying laying there in his arms until sleep overtook me. I had missed this indeed.

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Part 4 >

[gonecrqzy]

The Dark Void

You wake up in a familiar bed, in a familiar room, but you have a sense of emptiness, a dark void. You’re not sure what this dark void is, but you feel its presence. Its been there for some time, and it seems to be getting deeper and darker every day.

The early morning sun is just beginning to peak through the curtain. Like a computer program, the brain activates. “Get up on time, don’t waste the day”, is your first comment to yourself. You need to eat, get dressed, shower and get out the door. You reach over to your charging phone beside the bed. Check the time, and inadvertently give yourself five minutes to brief yourself on news, social media, and any missed messages. Beside the reminder email that your dentist appointment is scheduled for tomorrow and your favourite jeans are on sale again, nothing in particular phases you. And then, as if an automatic switch flips, you are reminded to get up and get going; you don’t want to run behind.

As you take a minute to sip your coffee, you feel connected to life. The moment is brief, a nagging feeling quickly triggers urgency to get out the door. You quickly re-connect with your phone to reassure yourself you have all the information you need for now. With that out of mind, you quickly get ready.

Your ride to work is familiar, so it allows you to think about everything you want to accomplish. You dream of the day when you have enough time and money to do it. These thoughts bring you joy and hope. Right then and there you decide that enough is enough and you are going to make a change. Two minutes later the excitement and joy has evaporated as you remind yourself that you’ve tried before, and failed. You move past the negative thoughts and place the dreams in a safe spot for now.

Before you know it, you are parking at work. Your chest gets tight as you think to yourself how little you like working here. The people are ok, but you don’t really connect to them on a personal level. Your boss is fine, but always seems to upset you in some way. You remind yourself, that you need the paycheck and you’ll be done before you know it and be back home safely.

You find your desk and sit down heavily. Glancing at your empty desk, you have a moment of hope. “This may be a good day, it’s up to me”, you say. As you dive into the daily to-do list, that hope quickly fades and becomes clouded by an ugly and negative reality you’ve been fighting. You begin reminding yourself about your predetermined life limitations and work becomes nothing more than work. As the day drags on, you convince yourself that this is what you want right now. This is your purpose, or at least a means to a purpose. 

Throughout the day you continue to check in with our phone. After all, it’s the only thing you can really count on to be there and give you unnecessary but wanted information. In the back of your mind, you know it’s never worth it, but you also feel a need to pick it up anyway. It’s as if you’re driven by an unconscious addiction to seek an experience that will give you a dopamine hit, or just fill the dull moments with information that will trigger an emotional connection to life. 

Its five o’clock, you did it! Thank-fully the day went by quick. “Easy money”, you say to yourself.

You arrive home, tired because you worked a long day, but it’s ok, you have the weekend to look forward to. Your family is there, they give you a moment of joy as they look up from their phones and greet you with a smile. Your dog greets you with enthusiasm and you feel needed. 

As if you were driven by a motor, you quickly get through your early evening as if it was a chore. If you were to review the movements recorded, you would see yourself moving through routines robotically. Suddenly you find yourself on the couch alone. Everyone has gone to bed; the dishes are done, and the house is clean. The TV is showing a commercial you’ve already seen six minutes before. As the next commercial starts you question why you’re still sitting there. You pick up your phone and click on your favorite social media app and effortlessly find yourself looking at carefully curated photos of beautiful places and people. An advertisement catches your attention briefly, but you continue swiping and feel a brief sense of accomplishment for not making an unnecessary purchase.

The seemingly endless montage of commercials ends, and your show is back on. You can put your phone down now, its time to take a break. You’re not sure why, but you enjoy the reality show you’re watching. You look forward to the connected feeling it gives you to a “reality”. You are the audience, the commentator, the judge. As the people on the show struggle, it makes your reality feel more manageable. After all, you aren’t driving a semi truck on icy roads in Alaska.

Your show ends and you responsibly get ready for bed. Tomorrow is a big day; you have a dentist appointment. A short feeling of anxiety sets in until you re-assure yourself you gave notice to work that you will be away during the appointment. You reconfirm the appointment with your phone calendar and make sure there is a reminder set. You don’t want to miss it.

A quick snack before bed consists of some fresh nuts and a glass of water, which you eat as you stream a new show. You brush your teeth as you think about the day and what the future holds. You acknowledge you haven’t exercised this week; you feel guilty as you tell yourself to do better. Why does it seem that everyone else can manage their time and motivate themselves to keep healthy and active? The idea of the future gives you a bit of anxiety, the recent past brings unproductive guilt, but you don’t let those thoughts dominate and turn your focus to positive future ones. You move toward bed, quickly glancing at your phone during the short walk from the bathroom to the bedroom. No messages, although you know its unjustified, you feel slightly lonely and forgotten.

Your bed is comfortable, and the room makes you feel safe. Against your better judgement, you look once more at your phone glancing at your friends’ profile. They’ve posted a picture that makes you feel shallow and jealous. You quickly remind yourself that you don’t know the whole story behind the post and make yourself feel secure. You continue to fight off the uncomfortable feeling and move on to another media sharing app where you watch pointless silly videos of strangers seeking attention. You like a few videos and feel slightly better about yourself. When you see one that has a million views, it makes you feel insignificant and unaccomplished for a second, but you mange to shake the negativity - “your just not them, if you wanted the attention you could do it to”, you tell yourself.

You put your phone away for the night, close your eyes and do everything you can to turn the brain activity off. Its as if you’re a mind ninja fighting off the thoughts that want to keep you awake. One thought sneaks its way through. You jump up and grab your phone one last time and check to see if your alarm is set correctly. It is… OK now you can rest easy.

After a few minutes you drift off only to be greeted by dreams that make no sense at first, but you jump on for the ride. 

You only wake once, the bright light of your phone glows in the otherwise dark room. You remind yourself that you need to set some boundaries with your phone and quickly go back to sleep.

It’s 7:00am and the alarms gone off. Time to think about today…  

Today is cloudy and only a grey glow is coming through the edges of the closed curtain. You immediately feel disappointed, labeling the day as a bad day. As conditioned your brain notifies you the day starts now. “Get up on time, don’t waste the day” is your first comment to yourself again. You need to eat, get dressed, showered and out the door. You reach over to your charging phone beside your bed. Check the time, and inadvertently give yourself five minutes to brief yourself on news, social media and any missed messages. The news is particularly bleak today, but you only read the headlines. In your email there is reminder that your dentist appointment is scheduled today, and your favourite brand is having a shirt sale, but there also an email from your boss asking for an update on a project that’s past due. Suddenly you feel overwhelmed by life but it somehow pushes you to get out of bed.

You sit down on the couch, breath in deeply and realize you want a change, your not sure what that change is, but the prospect of change excites you and you all of a sudden feel better.

As you pick up the phone, you look at the time, you have to leave in twenty minutes to arrive on-time and maintain your perfect attendance record. You assure yourself that change is around the corner, you are going to stay committed to the effort, but now isn’t the time. With in a few minutes, as if on que, you begin to feel anxious and negative thoughts begin to dominate your emotions. It isn’t a good feeling as you question if your life will really ever get better. You calm yourself by thinking out lout “maybe my life isn’t that bad”. You question your decisions and put them back in the safe place for later thinking.

Your ride to work is again familiar, but this time you want to plan how you’re going to change life. Exciting thoughts bring you joy and hope, but these thoughts are quickly dismissed as dreams as you realize the amount of work that needs to be done and that you will likely fail, just like you did before and many have before you. You decide to calm down and pick up a coffee and doughnut from the drive thru; you deserve it.

Before you know it, you are parking. This time you do everything in your power to suppress the negative thoughts about your unenjoyably work because it might be this way for a long time. “The people are OK and your boss is fine, I’m just over thinking it”, you convince yourself. You remind yourself of the paycheck and the freedom it gives you the rest of the time and that settles the internal argument for now.

The day seems to be going slower than usual, even your phone doesn’t appear to offer much needed company and support, but you stay committed to finding something in it. Finally, its time to go to the dentist, a break at last.

Coming straight home after the dentist feels like a gift. You’re still tired, but you’re one day closer to the weekend. Your family is there, they give you a moment of joy as they look up from their phones and greet you with a smile and a hello. Your dog greets you with much needed enthusiasm and you feel needed again.

As if driven by a mortar, you quickly get through your evening again without even thinking about it. Again, you suddenly find yourself on the couch alone. Everyone has gone to bed; the dishes are done, and the house is clean. The TV is showing a commercial you’ve already seen six minutes before. As the next commercial starts you question why you’re still sitting there. As if by auto-pilot, you pickup your phone, and open your favorite social media app. You find yourself looking at carefully curated photos of beautiful places and people. An advertisement catches your attention. You remind yourself how last time you didn’t make an unnecessary purchase, so you kind of owe yourself.

An hour has gone by since your show has ended, and the TV is now showing the next scheduled show. You normally wouldn’t watch this show, but you’re more focused on the shirt you’ve chosen and that is now sitting in your virtual shopping cart. $49.00, but shipping is free, and you know you need a new shirt, and its been a while since your last purchase. As your finger hovers above the “complete purchase” button you are filled with mixed emotions, but as always you convince yourself you need and deserve it. You further remind yourself that you work hard at a job you don’t overly enjoy; you might as well enjoy spending the money. You push away any guilt easily and tell yourself its time for bed.

A quick snack before bed consists of a cookie and a glass of water. You brush your teeth as you think about the day and what the future holds. You acknowledge you still haven’t exercised this week; you feel guilty as you shame yourself to do better. You question if you will ever get life right. The idea of the future gives you a bit of anxiety, the past shirt purchase brings guilt, but you don’t let negative thoughts dominate as you force positive thoughts in. Although you believe these positive thoughts are artificial, you ensure they remain in focus for now.

You move toward bed, quickly glancing at your phone during the short walk from the bathroom to the bedroom. Still no message from your boss about your finished project submission. Your mind begins to wonder unintentionally as unanswerable and unwarranted questions start coming - you shut them down swiftly.

Once in the comfort of your bed, the room makes you feel safe again. As if driven against your will and better judgement, you look once more at your phone glancing this time at your own profile. You see a picture of yourself that makes you feel insecure. You quickly delete the photo and feel instantly better but remain unsettled and move on. Once again you find yourself watching, unproductive, silly videos of strangers. You like a few but unfortunately still don’t feel any better about yourself. As you’re reading comments on one particular video, you see a troll saying some hurtful things. Without hesitation, you make your opinion known only to delete it shortly after, as another person disagrees with you and attacks your integrity. You recognize the toxicity of social media and tell yourself that one day you will delete it and be happy. However, today you will just focus on turning the Do Not Disturb function on the phone so it doesn’t disturb your sleep tonight. Although it’s a bit risky that an important call might come in, you know it’s the right call for tonight.

You put your head down, close your eyes and do everything you can to turn the brain activity off. Your brain ninja seems to be weak today and random thoughts seem to take over, enticing anxiety, but you know to keep your eyes closed. Suddenly, like clock work, you jump up and grab your phone one last time and check to see if your alarm is set correctly. It is, you shake your head and put your head back down and start the process of falling asleep from the beginning.

After a few minutes you still haven’t been able to fall asleep. You feel yourself getting agitated at the fact and quickly find yourself self medicating with melatonin and calming down by listening to a sleep story on your phone. You don’t even feel yourself drift off as you fall asleep.

In the middle of the night you wake. Your unsure what caused it but you turn over and try to fall back asleep. Within a couple minutes you give up and grab your phone to check the time; it’s 5:20 am. You still have an hour of sleep to go. Without giving it much thought, you’ve checked your messages and noticed a missed text from your friend asking if you are still up. They sent it at 12:10 am, and you wonder what they wanted. You sent a “?” text back without anticipating a quick reply.

Now you are up, no sense trying to sleep now. Even with the exhaustion from the week, stress, and lack of sleep, your brain is too active to shut down. You quickly find yourself mesmerized by your phone while being bombarded by a sea of information you never thought to think about. Who knew you could plant your own avocado?

You stop looking at your phone for a moment and look up. You’ve come to a realization, the dark void you feel isn’t your life, its your addiction to technology and the emptiness it brings.

 The End

[dragon-kazansky]

A rose in London - Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 18 - Just the beginning

It had been weeks since the Blackwood incident. John was moving out. All his things were being taken from the flat and loaded into the carriage outside. John had come with Mary to collect the last of his things. John wanted to also make sure Sherlock and yourself were alright.

After the events that day, you moved in with Sherlock. He had told you everything about what happened on the bridge that day and confessed everything about Irene. It made it very clear who his feelings turned to after meeting you. He tried to deny John's claims about him fancying you back then, but he knew you knew. There was no use pretending.

Your life with Sherlock was just beginning.

There was a knock on the door. John and Mary came in. You heard Mary gasp as you looked up. You were sitting on a chair by the window, with a book in your hands.

Sherlock was hanging from the ceiling, a noose around his neck. You almost forgot the foolish experiment he was doing.

"It's quite alright, he's not actually dead." You tried to soothe them. You had grown quite used to his experiments since moving in. "Suicide is not in his repertoire."

"He's far too fond of himself for that." John added. "He also wouldn't leave Y/N like that. She's also far too calm for such a situation."

You smiled awkwardly at them.

John took his cane and poked Sherlock harshly in the back. Sherlock woke up with a start. You closed your book and stood up out of the chair you had been using.

"We have guests, dear." You grinned at him, moving over and turning him around to face John and Mary.

"Oh. Good Afternoon." He spoke as if nothing weird was going on. "I was trying to deduce the manner in which Blackwood survived his execution. Clearing your good name, as it were. But it had a surprisingly soporific effect... and I was carried off in the arms of Morpheus like a caterpillar in a cocoon." He spoke softly.

"Good afternoon, dear." He said to you as he slowly swung in a circle and faced you again. You grinned up at him.

"Get on with it, Holmes." John told him.

You walked over to Mary and offered her your seat. She took it gratefully. John came over too.

"Cleverly concealed in the hangman's knot was a hook." Sherlock explained. "Oh, dear, my legs have fallen asleep. I should come down."

"John, shouldn't we help him down?" Mary asked.

"No, no, no. I hate to  cut him off midstream." John smiled at her. "Carry on." He looked back at Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at you for help, but you gave a shrug, taking John's side.

"Traitor." He muttered softly at you. "Well, the executioner attached it to a harness... allowing the weight to be distributed around the waist... and the neck to remain intact." He gestured to his own neck. "My Lord, I can't feel my cheeks. Might we continue this at ground level?"

"How did you manage it, Holmes?" John asked, getting closer to the man.

"I managed it with braces, belts and a coat hook." He lifted his waistcoat to show his harness. Please, my tongue is going, I'll be of no use to you at all."

"Worse things could happen."

"John." Mary scolded lightly, smiling at him. You chuckled from beside her.

"Y/N is in no rush to help him either." John pointed out. Sherlock turned to you.

"I thought you loved me, it seems I was wrong."

"You're not wrong. John, cut him down." You couldn't contain your giggles. John picked up the chair below Sherlock and set it upright.

"Yet none of this explained Blackwood's lack of a pulse." John used his sword to cut the rope and Sherlock landed heavily on the ground.

"Right. Now, the medical mystery. We must restore your reputation, Watson. There is a toxin refined from the nectar of the rhododendron ponticum. It's quite infamous in the region of Turkey bordering the Black Sea... for it's ability to induce an appranetly mortal paralysis. Enough to mislead a medical mind even as well-trained as your own. It's known as-"

"What's wrong with Gladstone?" Mary asked, looking at the dog.

"-mad honey disease." Sherlock looked at the dog. "Oh, he's demonstrating the very effect I've just described. He doesn't mind."

Mary got up and knelt beside Gladstone.

"Mary, don't worry, he's seen far worse." John told her.

You walked over and sat beside Sherlock's feet, resting against his lap. Sherlock took to running a hand through your hair.

John took a look around the apartment.

"This feels more home like than it did before." John took note of the tidy desk on the opposite side of the room. There was an area over there that looked like a reading area. No doubt that was your doing.

"Y/N is did that. She likes having somewhere to read." Sherlock mused. "I rather like living with her."

"Oh, thank you. I like living with you too, Sherlock." You looked up at him. He chuckled.

"You two were made for each other." John grinned. "I regret not having you meet sooner."

"Yes. You should be ashamed of yourself." Sherlock glared at him softly. "All that time I could have spent in her company. What a waste."

You elbowed him in the leg, which startled him.

"Behave." You warned.

"Yes, dear."

"Mr. Holmes?" Clark's voice called from the hall. "Doctor. Miss Mary. Miss Y/N." He acknowledged you all. "Sir, Inspector Lestrade asks that you come with me right away."

"What is it this time, Clarky?" Sherlock asked.

"It's one of our sergeants, sir. He went missing the day you stopped Lord Blackwood. I'm afraid sewage workers found his body just this morning, sir. We believe the sergeant was our first man on the scene. Shot in the head."

"Was it a small calibre bullet?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes." Clark confirmed.

"Were there powder burns on his eyebrows?" He asked.

"Indeed, sir."

Sherlock stood up, causing to move and stand too.

"Point blank range?" John asked.

"Moriarty." Sherlock said. "Professor Moriarty."

"Oh, there's a good boy." Mary petted Gladstone as he got up finally. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Where is Blackwood's device now?" John asked, standing up.

"Secret service have it, sir. They've taken over the case."

"I'd wager there's a piece missing." Sherlock said, looking out the window.

"So Moriarty was after a piece from the machine... not the poison." John joined him in the window.

"There's nothing more elusive than an obvious fact. The wire-free invention was the game all along."

"And Adler was just the diversion." You said, coming up beside Sherlock.

"He knew I'd chase after her, leaving the machine accessible. A technology of that kind would be worth an untold fortune. Imagine being able to control any device simply by sending a command via radio waves. It's the future, Watson."

There was knocking at the door. You all turned around to see who it was.

"I've loaded the last of our boxes, sir." It was the man who was loading the carriage outside.

John and Sherlock looked at one another. This was it. Time for John to go.

"Well..."

"Well..."

You rubbed Sherlock's arm affectionately and smiled at John as he looked at you.

In the next instant Gladstone ran out of the room. He rushed right past Mary and out into the hall. He could probably hear the sounds of the street with the door being open downstairs.

"Gladstone." Mary called for him, but he didn't come back.

"Stop him before he gets to the front door." John said, turning away from the window. He hurried out after the dog.

"Clarky." Sherlock reached for his hat and put it on. "Case reopened."

Mary got up and hurried after John, you watched them all go. "We'll meet you at Scotland Yard, Clark." You told the officer. He nodded and hurried out.

Sherlock turned on his heel and faced you. He couldn't help but smile. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was living with him. She was all his.

"You didn't show them your ring."

"They're not even married yet." You looked at him. "We can have our moment when they've had theirs."

Sherlock walked over to you, reaching for you and pulling you close to him. He loved holding you like this.

"I wanted to show off." He looked at your lips.

"You can do that anyway." You chuckled.

Sherlock pulled you into a kiss.

"We must get to work." He muttered, looking at you lovingly.

"Yes. We must."

Within seconds you parted and both hurrying to grab your coats and hats. You grabbed your notebook and pencil, putting them into your purse and waited for your wonderful detective to grab his things. He tucked his gun in his trousers and adjusted the hat on his head.

"Let's go, dear."

"Right behind you."

The end!

The sequel will be out in the New Year!

Tags:

@awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum  @sigynbandraoi-blog  @procrastinatingmurder @madshelily @phantomofhogwarts @photography-to-all

[joemuggs]

DO YOU SUFFER FROM SPYMANIA?

It’s the 25th anniversary of the Spymania label, and to celebrate it they have released a record of unreleased tracks. It’s brilliant, you should buy it. In 2016 I wrote a history of the messy, messed-up, but brilliant Brighton scene that they found their feet in. Sadly it got lost in the archiving of the Red Bull Music Academy site, but I’ve still got the text, so here it is. And to prove I was there, here is me, in an inexplicably bad shirt, with the Spymania crew and friends:

Some Spymanians - far left is Hardy Spymania, next to him in blue t-shirt is Paddington Breaks, third from right leaning forward is MDK and that’s me in the bad shirt on the right.

25th Anniversary EP by SONGBIRD & WAFTA

From the town's 18th century genesis as a playground for aristocrats, Brighton has always been a space for outrageous hedonism. Being the closest point to London on the English south coast makes it an obvious place for escape and misbehaviour. With that has always come something grittier and grottier though. It's no coincidence that the best known fictional depictions of Brighton feature razor-carrying petty gangsters (Brighton Rock) and running street battles and hurried back-alley knee-tremblers (Quadrophenia). The novelist Keith Waterhouse famously said “Brighton always looks like a town helping police with their enquiries” – and it still does. Behind its facade of homeopaths, holidaymakers, students and media folk, it hides rampant corruption and organised crime, a heroin economy to match any British city, and sprawling estates that are among the country's poorest.

In the heat of the 1990s rave fervour when the world and its dog came down to Brighton to party their way through untold seven-day weekends, all of this ambiguity was expressed via a rather different electronic scene. While the superclubs along the seafront pumped to the sounds of handbag house, trance and big beat, hidden away in the nooks and crannies a techno style formed that became known on the European underground simply as “the Brighton sound” – and around it sprouted odd rave and electronica mutations that, though they might have seemed pisstakey or bloody-minded at the time, would alter the course of electronic music for a long time to come. All of this was surrounded by a dense web of art, theory, satire, in-jokes and meat-flinging cabaret, that could be perplexing, even off-putting, but has left a huge creative legacy from a tiny scene that punched way, way above its weight.

This scene of malcontents and squarepegs was by definition loose-knit – but if there was a centre to it, it was Cristian Vogel. Originally from the south Midlands, he and his friend Si Begg already had experience putting out cassette releases and primitive music software hacks (with the Cabbage Head Collective) before he came to Sussex University to study 20th Century Music in 1992. With a head full of Stockhausen and rave tapes, he was boshing out the techno, and by the end of 1994 had two releases on Dave Clarke's Magnetic North label and was resident at the Acid Box club nights in a little sticky-floored upstairs venue in Brighton's North Lanes.

This was the period when techno and hardcore were still part-fused, and along with headliners like Carl Cox and Luke Slater you could expect to hear Belgian hoover noises full-pelt gabber rolled into the more “intelligent” beats, all with nothing but relentless strobes and smoke to intensify the experience. It's a sign of how intense it was that the “chillout” in the backroom consisted of Richie Hawtin tunes playing and Tetsuo: Iron Man being shown on a couple of TVs, and felt genuinely laid back in comparison to the dancefloor. It could be shoulder-to-shoulder packed, or have ten people raving away, but it was pretty much always guaranteed to deliver mental obliteration. It's precisely this delirium you can hear in key early releases like Vogel's “Ninjah” or Tobias Schmidt's “Minus One”.

Si Begg and friends

Cristian, together with Si Begg founded Mosquito Records around this point, around which a motley crew of producers of monstrously banging but sonically razor sharp techno gathered. Neil Landstrumm, Tobias Schmidt (an ingenious pseudonym for one Toby Smith), Ibrahim Alfa and Russ Gabriel, as well as Begg and Vogel themselves, all released in the first couple of years. They were closely allied with the Scottish techno scene, notably through Landstrum but also the Sativae label run by Dave Tarrida and Steve Glenncross, and played to seething crowds north of the border, as well as absolutely huge ones in Germany, Poland and further afield. Yet even though the audiences were tiny back on the south coast, the local brand was inescapable: indeed Si Begg, who lived in London right through the nineties, recalls with some bafflement seeing untold German flyers with “BRIGHTON TECHNO” in big letters under his name.

All of this was great, but taken alone could simply have been another local flavour on the international techno scene. The four-to-the-floor certainly remained the heartbeat of the scene as The Acid Box became The Box, which became Defunkt, which became Freekin' The Frame, and the techno dons kept coming through: Blake Baxter, Shake Shakir, Claude Young, Beltram, Weatherall, Surgeon, Bandulu... but very quickly, things became about more than just that. There was a strongly disruptive element from the beginning in the form of a close alliance with the Brighton “clench” of the Church Of The SubGenius. If you don't know about the Church, that's a whole other rabbit hole to fall down, but for our purposes it's enough to know that the local bunch existed on the fringes of freeparty soundsystem culture and subverted its tendencies to crypto-mystical bollocks, and were big on collage and stencil graffiti, heavy punning streams of consciousness (“Bulldada” in the SubGenius parlance), mischief disguised as culture and vice versa.

Heavily influenced by this SubGenius mischief was Mat Consume, in-house designer, computer animator and frequent back-room DJ for the Vogel-related axis. His art, brain-bent ranting and noisily experimental sets became a vital part of the identity of the scene, helping coalesce obsessions with punk and Situationism and ambivalent embrace of digital progress among Vogel and compadres to the point where when they formed an umbrella organisation for their activities it was natural to call it No Future. Held loosely together by Vogel's partner and manager Emma Sola this acted as a booking agency for various acts, but just as much felt like a chaotic but fiercely independent joint art project between Vogel, Sola and Consume, throwing ideas and aesthetic forms out into the underground and forging alliances with equally bloody-minded creators.

Emma Sola

These included the likes of Canadian filmmaker and stencil artist Pablo Fiasco; animators and sound artists Ruth Jarman and Joe Gerhardt aka Semiconductor; non-techno eclecticist club collectives Mufflewuffle and Slack; the combative cabaret night That Stupid Club which would feature subcultural saboteurs like Stewart Home, Dennis Cooper and The Divine David; and another more rave-influenced cabaret night called Monkey's Lounge full of spoken word, off-colour comedy, offal-flinging and pints-of-piss-drinking, run and compered by... um... me (under the names Rimmington Snuffporn Esq and DJ Dead, with help from my music production and DJ partner Jeffrey Disastronaut). It was at a Monkey's Lounge session that Consume physically pushed Jamie Lidell – already widely known as a wildly innovative techno producer via the Subhead collective and their Growth parties – on stage with the house band Balzac, immediately kickstarting a long running residency as their singer and marking the beginning of a performing career that still continues.

Tom “Squarepusher” Jenkinson and Hardy Spymania

Possibly the most important alliance of all, though, was with the Spymania crew. Their social circle was a motley bunch of Londoners, Midlanders and most notably a large contingent from Chelmsford, Essex. Many of the latter had been to school with Tom Jenkinson, a musician known originally as Stereotype and then, when the Spymania label itself was formed by Paul Fowler and brighton-based Hardy Finn, as Squarepusher. Their ethos was preposterous in all ways, fuelled by unstable fusions of questing intellects and Essex swagger. As teenagers they first congregated around a Chelmsford club night called Club Trout, run by future scene mainstay Jane Mitchell (and later exported to Brighton as Smooth But Halibut); they smoked themselves sarcastic to early tapes made by their friends Cassetteboy; everything they did was shot through with skater-stoner-hardcore-raver pisstake attitude. Their rickety old website, which remains live today, still gives a hint of all this. http://www.spymania.com/pgs/hardcore.html

Yet these were musical connoisseurs too, assiduously collecting hip hop, acid, Detroit techno, British electronica, and especially in the case of Martin “MDK” Wood, death metal, gindcore and anarcho punk. This pile-up of musical expertise and sarky dicking about was there from the first release, Squarepusher's Conumber EP – which featured everything from a track that was nothing more than a timestretched Jenkinson asking “can anyone lend me a fiver” to the jungle-acid fusions that would literally redefine how electronica was made from the Aphex Twin on down for the rest of the 1990s. The Spymania records that followed touched on illbient mismatched time signatures, Drexciyan electro-funk, Deicide samples, eerily blissed out atmospherics, Cassetteboy's peurile genius (via offshoot label Barry's Bootlegs), and a dozen more awkward twists and turns besides, always brain-frying, always funny, never settling on any sound that offered the casual listener an easy handle on what was going on.

A standardly Dada Spymania cover

This added up to a refreshing antidote to the chin-fondling seriousness and purism of much of the electronica scene. And when Finn, Wood and friends went raving at the Acid Box, they naturally found a kindred spirit in Mat Consume who would design almost all the Spymania sleeves, their grainy photocopy style a counterpoint to the garish clashing computer images and animated dancing baby skeletons of his No Future work. They in turn helped inspire Consume, with the urbane Lynton Million (a university friend of Jamie Lidell's), to set up Trash Records.

Trash was a label that would take the horrible and confrontational side of the scene to extremes, with anger and ugliness from label mainstays including DJ Paedofile, Chuck Shite and Shit & Cheap (aka Consume & Landstrumm – sample track name: “SuckingCocksForFishheads”), as well as impossibly intricate turns from the likes of Liddell and another Chelmsfordian Squarepusher contemporary and Rephlex recording artist, Matt Yee-King. Si Begg, too, was close to the Spymania team, and launched the rather more good-natured but equally ridiculous Noodles family of labels, featuring a slew of collaborations and AKAs (including Hardy Spymania's pleasingly literal Barry Pseudonym) from the No Future and Spymania families.

It was a messy and disparate little scene. The bulk of the rave action took place in the big clubs of Germany and the rest of Europe, but the creative processes were at least as much about what happened in smoky shared flats and workshops in Brighton's tatty backstreets as they were about big dancefloors. Vogel once described his metier as “the drug pub rant”, and a lot of work sprung from precisely these. Continually, though, the bulk of Brighton club culture, from the seafront clubs to the free parties on the beaches and Downs, tended to look askance at the belligerence and deliberate obfuscations of the No Future axis, or more often simply ignore it all. Perhaps the glorious cresting of the first wave of activity, and probably this scene's peak visibility in Brighton full stop, was at the Brighton Dance Parade of 1997. This attempt to replicate Berlin's Love Parade was never to be repeated – hippie mismanagement and Brighton's endemic corruption saw to that – but for one day only the ravers had their literal day in the sun.

The Trash crew: top - Consume, Hunter & Million / middle - Million & Consume / bottom - Cristian Vogel & Million

There, among floats pumping out free party trance and funky house, the No Future bus – stencilled all over by Pablo Fiasco with pictures of dead rock stars, and with a stunningly crsip rig playing weaponised techno whose angles and curves were a thousand times sharper and more present than any other music on the day – stood out like a septic thumb. This was also the year that Vogel's musical partnership with Lidell began in earnest – with Lidell's furious remix of Vogel's “(Don't) Take More”, which remains a brain-damage anthem to this day in some quarters, and their first release as the mutant electronic funk duo Super_Collider, “Darn (Cold Way O Loving)”. The latter track, amazingly, emerged on a major label, thanks to it being signed by Skint parent label Loaded, in turn licensed through Sony. It was a year to wave the freak flag high.

Despite untold hard drugs, fights and the incestuous nature of a town as small as Brighton, the scene and the various record labels involved remained vigorous and continued to diversify right through the last years of the nineties and into the new millennium. Super_Collider released one album on Loaded, and another on Rise Robots Rise, the label created by Vogel and Sola for ever more varied output including Catalan girl-punk and German dancehall. Lidell's ultra-experimental first solo album, Muddlin Gear, came out as a joint venture between Spymania and WARP in 2000, accompanied by deranged artwork and live films by Pablo Fiasco. Bands increasingly became part of the mix: whispering neo-Krautrockers Fujiya & Miyagi (on Paul Spymania's Massive Advance imprint), the terrifying Wevie Stonder (who he managed) and space-pop group Chungking (which I was in for a couple of years, and whose multi-instrumentalist James Stephenson played bass for Super_Collider live, creating a Chelmsford rhythm section with Matt Yee-King on drums - both of these two had also been in the aforementioned Balzac too).

No Future’s logo, designed with typical aggression by Consume

There were prominent fans too. John Peel asked the Trash collective to open Meltdown Festival in 1998. Thom Yorke and Radiohead's resident artist Stanley Donwood designed t-shirts for No Future. Vogel is namechecked on the Sabres Of Paradise Haunted Dancehall album, and Andrew Weatherall would frequently call him up, dumbfounded at his latest sonic advances. One memorable 1999 awayday for the Freekin' The Frame club to The End in London saw Róisín Murphy jumping on stage after the live Super_Collider show to duet with Lidell on an impromptu version of “Once in a Lifetime”, a very young Kieran Hebden repping UK garage, Chicks On Speed shouting their hearts out, and Chris Cunningham playing long segments of white noise to puzzled ravers, as well as sets from various No Future / Spymania stalwarts.

Inevitably, like all but the very biggest musical scenes, the micro-one in Brighton dissipated as people grew up, fucked up, or moved on – but its echoes continue. Vogel and Landstrumm continue to be significant forces in electronic music, both as influences on the post-Blawan generation and as musicians in their own right. Si Begg is a respected sound designer and composer. Matt Yee-King runs the computer music course at Goldsmiths college, and is a big noise on the “Algorave” scene. Paul Spymania is an artist manager and agent, and along with Scuba, brought dubstep to Berlin in the legendary Sub:Stance sessions. Semiconductor became artists in residence for NASA, among many other extraordinary commissions. Jamie Lidell supported Elton John. Consume is in Bristol, currently working on a giant mural of DJ Derek. Lynton Million lives on a small island, selling whisky. Ibrahim Alfa took several sharp diversions that are an epic tale in their own right, and is only now picking up where he left off with a Workshop issue of his “lost” album Once Upon a Time in Brighton. And so it goes on...

Unlike some electronic scenes, the one in Brighton was never particularly chic (although it certainly had massive cultural cachet in a few countries if not at home), and its records don't necessarily fetch silly money on discogs (like that's a measure of value, right?). But out of a tiny techno club and its committed few regulars grew something that filled an entire decade with utterly extraordinary art, music, humour and ideas, and which still has relevance and resonance for smart creative minds many years on. Those messy, aggro, awkward bunch of ravers and jokers somehow managed to hold it together just enough to build a creative world entirely of their own, with its own rules and its own distinctive identity: what more can artists hope for?

This history is dedicated to James Phillips, a vital part of this scene and always 100% one of the good guys. RIP

Some tunes:

Cristian Vogel: Ninjah https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ydOFHo9JtI

Tobias Schmidt: Minus One https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YjozNVF7_I

MDK: Sound of Saturday https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV3KQHGxmcg

Subhead: Ruction (produced by Jamie Lidell) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5vNX_ylRQM

Squarepusher: Sarcacid https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IY6cvGnVCA

Cristian Vogel: Bite & Scratch (Blake Baxter Detroit Mix) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXIB7I3D7ss

DJ Paedofile: I was Rise in Clouds https://youtu.be/WcyrrAwqaQY

Buckfunk 3000 (Si Begg): Future Shock Planet Rock https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp4b6PE0FkY

Cristian Vogel: Sarcastically Tempered Powers http://youtu.be/Q2G3204pfkY

Yee King: Goodnight Toby https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbnZuv3xHog

Super_Collider: Darn https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh2kauFcGpw

No Future at Brighton Love Parade: https://vimeo.com/119001501

[starrybethany]

Mat Barzal: Part 5

Word count: 2012

For the past week I’ve been waking up an hour earlier than normal to avoid Daniel. I feel awful about it and know it’s affecting our relationship negatively, but every time I see him guilt fills my heart and the words “I found my soulmate” almost spew out of my mouth.

I’m dreading the future of my relationships with both Mat and Daniel so I want to avoid the conversation as long as I can.

I’m tying my Converse when the bedroom door creaks open. I curse silently as a groggy Daniel steps out, running a hand through his platinum locks.

“Babe, why have you been leaving so early this week?”

“I’m really behind on my work, Daniel,” I respond, not looking up from my dirty laces.

“Oh. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Unless you know how to do percentages and fast mental math, nope.” I tug the lace tighter, standing up to full height.

A small smile covers Daniel’s face and he tugs me in for a quick goodbye hug. “Have a good day at work, babe, I love you.”

Oh God, is that bile rising in my throat? My mind races and swirls as I hug my boyfriend back, pulling back fast enough to let the bile go back down my throat yet slow enough that I don’t raise suspicion.

As I ride in the car on the way to Barclays Center, I bite my lip in anxiety. I can’t believe we’re this far in the soulmate bond already. The soulmate bond is what’s causing me to get anxiety around my boyfriend and the nauseous feeling at his touch.

All my body yearns for is Mat’s touch.

I can feel the players looks and staff member’s stares as they walk past my office, curious to see the soulmate of star player Mat Barzal. I understand it, really I do.

But at the same time all of the attention is making me squirm.

My phone vibrating on the wooden desk next to my half-empty coffee mug snaps me out of the equation in my head.

I take a deep breath when I see that it’s Daniel, and avoiding the eyes watching me, I raise the phone to my ear and swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N. I forgot to tell you something before you left for work this morning,” Daniel starts, “One of my cases has been relocated back to the original crime scene in Helena.”

“What? Where is Helena?” I question.

“Montana.”

I pause. “So… what does that mean?”

“I have to go present the case to the court in Helena,” he explains awkwardly. “I’ll be gone for about a week.”

“Oh,” is all I say.

He knows how I feel about him having to travel for court cases, that’s why we agreed a year ago that he wouldn’t do it. And since that agreement, he’s traveled three times, now four with this Helena trip, for a court case.

The night that we came up with this agreement was after he left for a month long court case. And before that, he was gone for two weeks before being home for two days. He wasn’t home long enough for us to catch up and spend enough time with one another.

Sure, he’s cut down on the long distance court cases, but it’s still not what we agreed upon and that’s what matters the most.

“Don’t be like that,” he sighs in what seems like annoyance.

“Be like what? All I said was oh.”

“And I know what that ‘oh’ means…”

I stay silent.

“Look, I can’t help it if the location of my case changes, okay?” He tries to compromise.

“But why would you take a case if the original crime scene was all the way across the country? Wouldn’t it make more sense for a lawyer from Montana to deal with all of this?” I reply.

“The murderer was caught in New York!” Daniel defends.

“Whatever. What time are you leaving?”

“Now, actually. Our flight leaves in two hours.”

“Cool. Have a good flight,” I try to bite back the bitterness in my tone.

“Thanks. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I mumble back, hanging up my phone.

I sigh, turning back to my laptop with a document half-typed. At least I have more time to spend on work without getting distracted.

Suddenly there’s a sharp knock at my door before it opens, a familiar looking bald man peeking his head inside. His name, Scott Gomez, suddenly pops into my head. If I can remember correctly he’s an assistant coach.

“You’re Barzy’s soulmate, right?”

Oh great, so no one knows my name? They just know me based off of a relationship I have?

“Yeah,” I answer simply.

“Follow me.” He motions.

I roll my eyes to myself but get up, following the man to the rink. The sound of skates cutting ice, sticks slamming down, and pucks dinging against the crossbar greet me as I lean against the glass.

My eyes land on him almost instantly. If there’s one word to describe Mat Barzal in this moment, it’s rough. He’s drenched in sweat, it’s like he’s been hitting pucks since before the sun rose. His face is as red as the crossbar and his chest heaves heavily with each breath he takes. His dark hair is stuck to his forehead due to the sweat but the part that breaks my heart the most, though, is his puffy, red eyes.

Has he been crying or is it from a lack of sleep? Would he tell me if I asked?

“He’s been here since six o’clock.”

I glance at the clock. It’s noon now.

“He’s been playing hockey for six hours?” I manage to get out.

Scott just nods his head in response. He watches Mat with me for another minute before walking away, probably to get some work done.

My mind tosses an idea back and forth but I decide on doing something about this instead of just ignoring it. I open the gate to the home bench, stepping in and grabbing an extra one of Mat’s sticks.

I lean over the edge of the board and hit the stick loudly on the ice to get his attention.

He turns to me, expression blank as he skates towards me.

“Come get some lunch with me.”

He doesn’t say anything but follows me down the hallway, listening to my commands as I usher him into the locker room.

~

Mat sits across the table from me, devouring his hot dog. Well, I assume that six hours of nonstop working out does make you hungry.

Still, I can’t help but feel uncomfortable.

My soulmate is legit three feet away from me while I slept with another man less than a month ago. Of course I would never tell him that…

I cough awkwardly. “When I was little, my mom would always forget to cut up my hot dogs and I would choke.”

Mat just stares blankly at me.

“It happened quite a few times actually. Which is weird, because I have an older sibling and she never forgot to cut up his hot dogs-””What do you want, Y/N?” He cuts me off.

I’m taken aback and I’m sure my face shows it. “I’m sorry?”

“You break my heart and now you’re telling me all about your childhood? I mean, it’s really giving me mixed messages,” he admits.

I sigh in defeat. “I’m really sorry, Mat. I guess I just need time.”

“How much time?”

“Enough time to get to know you, at least a little bit.” I start to open up.

He tilts back as best as he can without a back on the bench, crossing his arms with a dry smile covering his face.

“And what excuse will you give your boyfriend while you’re getting to know me?”

“My boyfriend’s actually out of town for a week.” I take a bite out of my hot dog and then narrow my eyes at the handsome brunette. “So are we getting dinner tonight or what?”

“Okay.”

~

“I can’t believe you know all of the words to that,” I can’t stop giggling as Mat pulls into a parking spot.

“What can I say? I have a sister who used to blast Justin Bieber all of the time.” Mat looks over to me with a genuine smile. “When all you hear is ‘Baby’ on repeat you get to know the lyrics.”

I shake my head through laughter. Mat takes the chance to get out of the car, opening my door.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I say, stepping out of the car.

“Oh, you might want to grab my arm. You don’t want to stumble in your heels, do you?” Mat asks.

“I’m not wearing heels,” I respond in confusion.

He just gives me a cheeky smile and I take the hint, wrapping my arm around his. I can’t help but feel comfort by this position, close yet not too close to him.

He leads us to one of the strip mall’s doors, opening it.

I step inside, my grin dropping into an ‘uh oh’ face as I survey our surroundings.

“Mat, you told me we’re going somewhere fancy,” I whisper to him.

The Subway workers eye us curiously under their visors.

“No, I just said that you would not believe where we’re going on our first date,” he whispers back.

I look up to give him a cheeky smile. He really knows how to make me laugh and have a good time.

“Have you tried the pickles here? They’re amazing,” I gush as we step up to order.

After Subway Mat takes me to get some fro-yo.

“Listen, I just wish you would’ve told me I could’ve dressed casual. This dress is killing me,” I groan as we sit down on the plastic chairs.

“Then it wouldn’t have been as good of a date, would it?” He points out.

“Oh, so you think this was a good date?” I tease, raising my eyebrows.

He rolls his eyes, pointing his spoon at me in an accusing manner. “You thought it was too!”

“Oh, I said that? When did I say that?”

“You never said that but you thought it.”

“So now you can read minds, Barzy?”

He loads some fro-yo onto his spoon, pulling it back and flicking some fro-yo onto the top of my dress.

“Ah, Mat,” I whine, grabbing a napkin to wipe it off. “Dude, this is the fanciest dress I have!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he waves it off.

“Or you can just make it up to me?” I suggest.

His spoon freezes in mid-air and he looks up at me. His eyes darken when they see the smirk on my face and he silently sets the spoon back in the cup, sitting up all while maintaining eye contact.

I hold back the shiver. Why was that movement one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen?

“You sure?”

I bite my lip in anticipation and I watch as he eyes the action.

“Only if you’re up for the challenge, Barzal.”

“Oh I’m always up for a challenge, Y/L/N.”

That’s how we end up at my apartment building, Mat pressing me against the exterior of the front door, planting hot kisses on my neck while I struggle to unlock the door without looking.

“Are you ever going to unlock that door?” Mat asks through kisses.

“Well it would’ve been opened five minutes ago if someone wasn’t distracting me.”

I can’t see but I know he rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys from my hand and unlocking the front door for me.

“This way.” I tug him, hearing his chuckle as he takes the key out of the door, closing it behind us.

And soon, my bare back is soothed by the caresses of the cotton sheets and Mat’s rough hands.

My thighs are gripped and rubbed comfortingly as Mat makes the fro-yo up to me.

Obviously, though, it’s not about the fro-yo anymore.

[wantonrowls]

iKON IMAGINES : Cheating!AU

BOBBY

“I know you’re cheating on me...” “I-..” “I’ve been following you for the last three weeks....” “Y\N I-...” “You told me she was just a co-worker, that’s funny-...” “Can I say something?” You paused and looked straight into his eyes with no soul, waiting for him to speak

“I DID cheat on you-...” You removed your hands from his clasp when you heard those three first words. Tears that cannot be contained from your eyes are already pouring at this point

“Listen, listen...Y\N. I did...and, I’m sorry...”

“A sorry can’t remove our baby from my womb, Bobby...”

JINHWAN

“I cheated on you...” 

You were silent, unable to show the rage and hurt you feel from the inside. He was looking at you with an unknown expression

“If you wanna punch me, please do it, If, if you wanna kick me out of this house, i’m okay with it, If you want me to kneel, i’ll do it but please.....” He held your hands, putting it on his cheeks, tears streaming down his face

“Please don’t leave me”

“Did you love me?...” was all you had uttered “Of course! I love you so much Y\N”

“but you cheated, right?” “I know, that’s why I’m trying to save us...” and again, you were silent for a moment 

“was she good?” “w-what? no!” “is she a great kisser?” “No! you are far more better than her”

“Liar” “I’m telling you the truth, i swear!”

“You don’t cheat on someone you love”

CHANWOO

“What where did you heard that?!” “Hanbin admitted it to me already” “And you believed him?”

“How long are you gonna pull this shit, Chanwoo?”

“Because i’m not cheating on you! You know what? Maybe Hanbin’s right, I should do cheat on you!” He was more shocked when he heard himself, you turned your back and ran towards outside, where he’s not present, Tears were blurring your vision but you cared less, All you want to do at this moment is to run away from this, from him

A blaring sound of tires screeching at the road, people crowding the area, and you, lifeless at the middle of the road

“Yes hello?” “Is this Mr. Jung?” “Yes, who’s this?” “I’m calling from the XXXHospital, You are listed as Ms. Y\N’s emergency number”

HANBIN

"Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You’re already married Hanbin! what? you decided that one day you’re this faithful man and then the next day you wanna be single like that? What the heck is wrong with you?” “How about instead of arguing like this everyday, how about shouting at me like I’m some kid and not a husband, how about for one fucking night, let me be myself, How about minding your own fucking business?!” “You know why I do that? When you go home you don’t talk to me, You treat me like i’m a maid in this house! You treat me like a nobody! Am I even your wife? Why do you do bad decisions at this point?!”

“Well maybe you’re the bad decision of my life!” You paused and looked at him. In front of you wasn’t the man you loved before, he wasn’t anything similar to that.

“Mommy? Daddy? Are you fighting again?” Your seven year old daughter woken up by the two of you

“Haha, no baby, Mommy and Daddy aren’t fighting” you smiled fakely “But why are you crying Mommy? Did Daddy hit you?” her little palms caressing your cheeks and you melt into the touch

“Mommy is just happy, that she feels like crying”

YUNHYEONG

he is on his knees, crying and begging for you to reciprocate your decision, for the both of you, for your future, for the baby, his hands are clasped together at yours, pleading like a kid, knowing that if he let go of your hands, it will be the end of it "I can't believe you did it" you tried to unclasp your hands from his but his grip became tighter the more you try "let go of me! you're disgusting!" "Y/N please!" "let go!" he finally lets go of your hands but immediately embraced you, his head at your shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably "forgive me, please" he cries and chants like a prayer, you try to push him but he pulls you more and so you without strength finally gave up and cried together, punching his chest again and again and him doing nothing about it "please Y/N, i love you so much" you feel his lips touching your neck as he speaks "god... i love you so much" you closed your eyes, avoiding his words, avoiding the heart pounding on your chest "please, I'll make it up to you, to us, for the baby" "Just because I love you doesn't mean you can do anything you want" 

JUNE

"It was an accident" he explains, sitting across you, hands fidgeting out of nervousness, the sight of him sucking the neck of some girl in your bedroom makes you vomit, the girl already left with apologies but you, the person he married cannot comprehend any of this matter "Oh, clearly it is. You 'accidentally' made a girl go into our bedroom, removed your clothes 'accidentally', fucked her 'accidentally', yeah i believe you" "It-it was a mistake" "Now it's a mistake" you stood up and went towards the terrace, opening the large windows, looking at the night scenery, it seemed like he hadn't noticed you stood up because he was still fidgeting his fingertips and his head low, "Say June..." you caught his attention and his eyes darts at your position, he stood up "...How long will it take for a body to fall from a 20 storey apartment?" "Y/N....don't do that" "wrong." as you jumped off and you can see his figure running late towards you, screaming at the terrace, shouting uncontrollably, you closed your eyes and felt a huge ache on your body as you cracked to pieces

DONGHYUK

you picked up his birthday cake from the pastry store, smiling from ear to ear as you walked home, imagining his face when he sees you bought something for the occasion.  At your doorstep, you tried to balance the cake and finding your keys at your pocket and managing to stab it to the keyhole, successfully opening it 

The place was quiet, of course, Donghyuk may have stayed a bit on work or maybe bought something on his way home, so you didn’t bother. You placed your things at the kitchen counter and wore your apron

“Maybe i’ll clean first”

one by one you scrub and rinse the plates from earlier this morning but you noticed two another plates at the sink, No one is left in the house in the afternoon because you work from 9:00 to 5:00 and Donghyuk works from 10:00 to whenever their leader wants to free them which is usually around 5:00 or 6:00, your hunch got bigger when a loud thud came from upstairs, you don’t own a cat, neither a dog so you immediately went up with the lightened cake on your hand

“maybe he went home already” you smiled, the thud may be because he’s decorating again and fell on his own

Walking to your shared bedroom, a shushing sound and a woman giggling softly got louder

“ssh! she might hear us!” 

Your chest was pounding loudly when you heard a familiar voice moaning heavily, trying to conceal it, The door wasn’t closed fully and so you peeked at the show going on on your room

Donghyuk was banging a woman, he was behind her, thrusting forcefully, her mouth is covered with her own undies, you held your hand to your chest, not believing what you saw, you pushed the door forwards, exposing yourself with the cake, Donghyuk’s eyes got bigger and the woman hid her face with a pillow

“Happy Birthday” as you smashed it on them

[marshalldodger]

oh hi there, welcome to holiday, MARSHALL “DODGER” VAN DER BYL. you’ve been here for ONE MONTH? awesome! you look just like BERK CANKAT, it’s crazy. oh, so you’re a/an THIRTY-THREE year old AVIATION SYSTEMS TECHNICIAN. and you’re CISMALE and use HE/HIM? okay, just checking! oh, people say you’re QUICK-WITTED & TRUSTWORTHY but IMPULSIVE & STUBBORN? well, i’m sure that you can prove yourself here. you’re looking forward to the CHRISTMAS celebration? that’s a good one, you’ll love it. i have to get going now, bye!

Marshall Van Der Byl was one of those children who knew what he wanted to be the moment the question was presented to him. He adored planes, more than anything in the world and knew his future was in the sky. 

His father was a military man and brought home with him a sense of national pride that he instilled in his son. Though his words always came with a warning: Marshall was too young to understand what service meant, and would not be permitted to serve until he had ( at the very least ) completed university.

So the idea floated from Marshall’s head for a number of years. The passion for aviation was still there, but he allowed himself to explore other options. He wasn’t dead set until he was forced to watch Wings (1927) in his history class. It seemed he was the only kid in class that actually picked up on the movie’s meaning, That it was a love story between two pilots -- even going so far as to show the first gay kiss ever in american cinema. ( receipts -- this shit is gay ).

but Marshall’s dad was still against it. He didn’t think his son would have the stomach to serve when the going got tough. He managed to get into his head.

The thing was, Marshall was just as passionate about the mechanics of the planes as he was about flying them. When it came time for university, he enrolled himself in two programs at two schools. One for piloting, and the other for aviation systems management at a local college. To fall back on, as he explained to his family. It was hell for four years, doing night classes and getting his courses cut down to the minimum so he could handle his work load. He managed to pass both, somehow. 

When he was ready, after a year off to rest, he joined the military. Aged 23. He was a member of the air force, enlisting for a six year run.

The badge almost went to his head. He got cocky and brash, pressed on by his fellows, who had much the same attitude. In time he thought he was beginning to loose his sense of self. not to mention how...hard it was too see hardships of war. He couldn’t help but think that what he had seen wasn’t even been the worst of it. That every day he might be put into a situation -- a dog fight, a rescue mission -- that might really fuck him up. He wanted to preserve his sense of self.

When his six years were up, Marshall applied to be an AST instead. A year later, he was running out to the planes to do maintenance as the pilots climbed out of their seats. 

that’s all i have for backstory rn. there’s def something else there but.....i don’t know what yet. maybe he gets conned. maybe he has a scandal idk

HEAVILY subject to editing when i’m less tired/have his back story sorted out better!! and i’ll....rb it when i do that

Marshall still uses the hanky code in the year of our lord 2k19

def part of the NGPA (National Gay Pilots Association) man he’s j like that

his callsign: “dodger” is a play on “dodge her” because there was a girl lusting after him first year that he avoided like all hell

but now they’re besties 

has a pet cat! his name is Wilbur and he’s actually evil. will sit on his chest and knead if he sleeps in

big yes to coffee big no to tea

can drink a leprechaun under a table

beard vs. no beard are different moods for him

has so many tattoos but some include: a triangle with a depiction of the sky, a bar code on his thigh, a sound wave and a compass on his right breast.

this is........a mess.....im working on it ok

[realmonstersrp]

❛ i exist too much, i feel too much,  think too much. reality is crushing the life out of me

INTRODUCING RYU HANBYUL, OUR NEWEST STUDENT WITH THE POWER OF TELEPATHY.

WELCOME TO GUMI INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL FOR THE POWERED.

WHO ARE THEY?

PERSONALITY

(+) kind, captivating, earnest (–) overtrusting, insecure, clumsy

BACKGROUND

i.

here is a boy swatched in gold- the world at his fingertips.

ii.

ryu hanbyul is born in the dead of winter: a frail little thing, two months too early, but with a surprisingly strong set of lungs to make up for any future health complications he might end up with. he comes out kicking and screaming, red in the face, and it makes his father’s lips flatten in displeasure before his features smooth into an impassive gaze. despite being a wailer in the beginning, he’s quite the docile boy. perhaps a little too soft and lacking the proper bite needed to survive in a world like this, but he doesn’t consider it to be problem. that is, until he realizes that he’s destined to become the heir to a corporation he could care less about instead of his darling older sister. it doesn’t make any sense to him. she handles everything with far more grace than he ever could, like she was meant for it. her back held taut and eyes looking straight ahead- his own, slouched and looking anywhere but here.

his father’s expectations weigh on him far too heavily to even try to refute it. his critical eyes pinprick the back of hanbyul’s neck as he sits down with private tutors, trudges through the arduous piano lessons, and reads about a culture steeped in tradition. in summary, he learns how to be the perfect son and more.

it’s overwhelming and exhausting, but he should be happy because he has everything he could possibly want.

( what he truly wants is to be able to live his own life, and that’s the only thing his father can’t give him. )

iii.

the minute he rolls out of bed, something feels off. a low buzz sits at the base of his skull, and everything sounds muted. his mouth is dry and he aches all over, but he chalks it up to the onset of a cold, or maybe a mild flu, and doesn’t think that anything is amiss until he takes a step inside of school. almost immediately, it’s like he has been hit by the invisible force of a freight train. or at least, his head has. it’s the sort of agonizing, splitting pain one would associate with a migraine, and it comes literally out of nowhere. a swarm of thoughts begin to rattle inside his head, each one louder than the last.

he must look like an idiot standing in the middle of the hallway, a total deer in the headlights, so he all but hurries to the nearest bathroom stall to lock himself in and tries to fight the urge to vomit. the headache dulls into a bearable throb. the thoughts that aren’t his lessen, no longer fighting for his attention.

with shaky hands he takes out his phone to tap a quick message to his noona: something’s wrong with me. help.

in the heat of the moment, it’s inconsequential that he doesn’t know where exactly he stands with his older sister at times. there was no one else in the world he would go running first to other than her.

iv.

they become best friends through sheer force and hanbyul’s dogged persistence. he hasn’t quite managed to find the right frequency for tuning out other people’s thoughts completely. especially when they get too loud. so he ambles up to the other boy with a crooked grin ( the real one, not the practiced one ) and says, “hey! you’re trying out for the soccer team, right? let’s practice together.”

he doesn’t expect it to fall apart so quickly. hell, he didn’t expect for it to fall apart at all.

the thing is, he’s not even mad about it. who would be, when your best friend saves your life? his extended stay at the hospital is just a small blemish- because his heart is still beating and that is a miracle in itself. the doctors tell him that he’s lucky, and he’s got the scars to prove it. thin fractals of puckered pink flesh that go out and fade into tendrils.

so it kind of hurts that he never bothers to visit and laugh at the dumb jokes he cracks that the nurses can only smile politely at as they fluff his pillow. it’s not the same.

he can do the practiced smiles, the manners fit for a prince, the words that run smoothly off his tongue. but pretending not to care, he thinks, is someting he’ll never manage to perfect.

v.

home is where he’s hanging precariously on a precipice and doesn’t know how to let go. compared to home, gumi is a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he desperately needed. hanbyul is a natural disaster in the making, barely contained at the edges.

sure, he doesn’t get to study what he wants. he still attends business meetings with his father and has to hide how bored he is at all of it. but when he doesn’t make it into his father’s desired legacy, all the man does is sigh and shake his head. the disappointment in his voice is palpable when hanbyul finally works up the courage to tell him.

maybe falling will be easier than expected. all he needs to do is take the plunge.

WHAT CAN THEY DO?

TELEPATHY is the ability to mentally receive and transmit information. it involves being able to read, communicate with, or manipulate one’s thoughts.

— through mind reading, he can predict his opponent’s attacks before they even have a chance to occur. during this time frame, he is able to react quickly and put his team and himself out of harm’s way. this allows him to always be five steps ahead of everyone else and is useful as a strategist.

— he is able to implant false thoughts inside a person’s head. they must comply with his demands or what he asks for as long as it is simple and straight to the point. once done, the person will shake out of their stupor and realize that the impulsive thought was not done out of their own free will.

— although his power is primarily a defensive one, he is able to project psionic bolts of energy to overload a person’s mind. this does not cause any physical damage, but rather mental, knocking them unconscious.

WEAKNESSES —

— the thoughts of other people are always constant; as a result, his power does not work well in large crowds because he can easily get overwhelmed by being overridden with too much information. while he is able to tune out most people’s thoughts, it becomes increasingly difficult when there are a large amount of people near his vicinity.

— he needs to be within 25 feet of another person in order to use his power on them. subsequently, while he is able to filter through several peoples’ thoughts at once, he can only focus on one person at a time if he wants to manipulate their mind specifically, whether it is through illusions or another one of his tricks. because this requires concentration, he leaves his own body vulnerable to attack.

— more passive applications of his power can be used for longer without any obvious strain, but the ones that require his imagination or projections can only be done for up to three hours before fatigue sets in.

— those with physic shield or immunity are impervious to his power. likewise, mindless beings such as monsters do not have thoughts that can be read, and can only be subjected to the more offensive aspect of his power. as of now, he is only able to use his telepathy on other humans.

DID YOU KNOW?

looks like a total idiot, but is actually in the top of all his classes.

[themurphyzone]

MML Secret Santa Entry: Winter Wonderland

For @cartoonygirl, who asked for Dakavendish fluff! And thank God, because I seriously need to write a somewhat non-angsty fic with these two! I promise this one isn’t going to run you over with a steel battleship! 

Cavendish wasn’t sure when this dinner had become a complete disaster. It started off perfectly normal. Dakota shoveled food into his mouth, they talked about random things, and the shrimp platter was excellent. By all accounts, it should’ve been a normal meal.

Then a horde of cats rushed in, knocking over waiters and spilling food everywhere. They climbed on any surface they could. One cat fished in the lobster tank, until she overbalanced and fell in. As she scrabbled to get out, she leaned against the glass until the entire tank tipped over.

People rushed out of the restaurant, taking care to avoid the lobsters.

They were far enough from the entrance that the lobsters weren’t an issue, but two cats were now chewing the shrimp tails he’d set aside.

“They’re pretty adorable,” Dakota said, petting the calico under her chin. After several minutes, the cats grew bored and wandered elsewhere, no doubt looking for leftover food that had been abandoned on the tables.

“They’d be more adorable if they weren’t freeloading on something we paid for,” Cavendish grumbled. He signaled a waiter for the check.

“Since when do cats pay for things with money?” Dakota asked. “They’d probably have an entire currency based on petting or dead birds. But paper and coins, nah.”

And there was that strange train of thought Dakota always jumped on. It was both distracting and charming. How could talking about cat currencies and breakfast burritos be so distracting and charming at the same time?

When they received the check, Cavendish quickly grabbed it to distract himself from these strange, new thoughts of Dakota. Glance over the prices to make sure they were correct, calculate the tip, stick card in sleeve, it was completely logical. It made sense.

Unlike a certain someone.

He turned it over to the waiter. Wait a few minutes so they could run the card, thank the staff for the service, leave. There was a method to dining out.

But he had yet to figure out the Dakota method. It was a jumbled mess, everything was loud and funky and bright. Logic didn’t apply at all.

“Apart from the cats and the lobsters, this location’s nice,” Cavendish mused. “We should come back.”

Dakota looked up, his shoulders suddenly tensing.

“Something wrong?” Cavendish asked.

Dakota responded by lunging across the table, and before Cavendish could scold him for his horrible manners, Dakota slammed into him. The chair tipped over, sending them skidding across the floor.

It was a miracle he wasn’t nursing a concussion after that.

Cavendish tried standing up, but a pressure on his abdomen prevented him from moving. Then he realized.

Dakota was above him.

Dakota’s knee was on his abdomen.

Feeling his cheeks heat up from the close proximity, Cavendish really hoped Dakota was looking at anywhere but his face. “Your knee,” he managed after his brain started working again.

“Oh,” Dakota said. The lack of a joke was concerning, to say the least. He scrambled off, glancing at the ceiling beam that had fallen across the table where they’d been sitting. “Hey, so I’m just gonna head back to the apartment now.” He was avoiding eye contact for some reason.

Dakota helped Cavendish up, but quickly exited the restaurant without another word.

He probably said something he shouldn’t have. Why would Dakota take offense at cats though? It made no sense. Cavendish recovered enough to take his card and receipt from the dumbfounded waiter, who groaned at the thought of having to clean up this mess.

When he walked out of the restaurant, he was surprised to find Milo kneeling on the snow-covered sidewalk, scolding Diogee gently. “-and tomorrow, I’m taking you back to the retirement home so you can give everyone there a proper apology for scaring all their cats away.”

Well, that explained the cats.

Diogee barked at his arrival, and Milo turned around. “Hey, Cavendish!” he exclaimed. “You just missed Dakota. He went that way! If you hurry, you can probably catch him.” Milo pointed to the apartment complex across the street.

“I know where he went,” Cavendish replied. “We were dining together when that horde of cats came in.”

“Sorry for interrupting your date,” Milo said, grinning sheepishly.

“It was a surprise, but we were finishing up when the cats rushed through. There was no harm-”

Then he realized what Milo said.

“P-pardon me?” Cavendish stammered, just to be sure he wasn’t mishearing things. Maybe he needed to get his ears checked.

“I said, sorry for interrupting your date?” Milo glanced at Diogee. “Did I say something weird?”

Diogee barked, which could’ve meant anything from ‘this is boring, can I chase a squirrel’ to ‘seriously, what in the name of all that is good and pure wrong with you’.

“It wasn’t a date!” Cavendish protested, his voice an embarrassing octave higher than normal. “It was an apology dinner!”

Diogee instantly made a face, his tongue sticking out.

He was being sassed by a dog. How wonderful.

Milo waved his finger like he was chiding a toddler. “Diogee! That’s rude! Be nice or we’re going home.” Diogee barked in response, flopping belly-first into the snow and rolling around. “That’s odd. He only makes that face around Sara when she denies reading shipping fanfiction. He’s a silly pup. If you don’t mind me asking, what were you trying to apologize for?”

“Er, it’s complicated,” Cavendish rubbed the back of his head. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure what happened that day. “If I tried to explain, we’d be here for the next century.”

Oh, I was angry that Dakota took the last egg roll and we nearly broke our partnership after saying the dumbest things. Then our future selves broke regulations to stop us from breaking up and Dakota looks good in a Santa suit.

It sounded even more ridiculous when he put it all together.

“Well, I might not know what happened, but Dakota’s a cool guy,” Milo said. “I’m sure he’s pretty forgiving. Anyway, I need to get going. We’re having a picnic in the park on Saturday at noon. It’s just Melissa, Zack, Sara, and me but we also want you and Dakota there too! There’s this nice secluded spot we like to use over there. Bye!”

He ran off, Diogee trailing behind him.

“It’s the dead of winter,” Cavendish muttered, wondering why anyone would choose to have a picnic in the snow.

But he didn’t have any objections either. And the day Dakota turned down free food would be the day Mr. Block sang opera.

“Maybe he meant a different park,” Cavendish said after they’d walked past the playground for the seventh time.

“This is the largest park in town,” Dakota replied. “Pretty sure Milo would’ve specified if he meant elsewhere.” He leaned against a stop sign. “They won’t hold it against us if we’re fashionably late. Hey, do you think the tongue on a metal pole thing is true?”

Cavendish pulled him away from the stop sign before he had the bright idea of licking it. “I imagine it would be hard to eat if you showed up with a stop sign on your tongue,” he said sternly.

Dakota shrugged. “Not like I was actually gonna-um, you know your hand’s still, kinda on me....”

He quickly removed his hand from Dakota’s shoulder.

They had been making more accidental physical contact lately. It wasn’t bad, just...strange.

But not unwelcome either.

“Um, about the dinner a few days ago,” Cavendish said awkwardly so Dakota wouldn’t linger on the hand-on-shoulder thing for long. “If you want space, I’ll understand. We...I said some things I shouldn’t have. Just trying to make it up to you.”

Dakota shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m not mad about it anymore. Promise. Besides, the egg rolls at that Chinese place tasted much better anyway.”

“Yeah, they did,” Cavendish admitted.

So if Dakota was fine, why was he still acting weird? Cavendish figured it was best if he didn’t comment on it.

Before he could dwell on it for long, they heard a shout from a nearby grove of trees. “Dakota! Cavendish!” Milo shouted. “We’ve been waiting forever!”

Zack followed behind him, panting heavily. “It was more like four minutes.”

“Great to see you, kid,” Dakota high-fived Milo with a smile. “I bet you can’t wait for summer. That’s supposed to be picnic season.”

Milo shrugged. “Well, it’s not only-”

Zack cut him off. “Yeah, we enjoy picnics in snow! Sara has an everythingproof-tarp we spread out! Besides, we can avoid those pesky ants this way.”

“Anyway, come on!” Milo exclaimed. As soon as he set one foot in the grove, a snowdrift fell on him, knocking him on his back.

Zack tried hauling him to his feet, only to trip and fall facefirst into the snow. He sat up, coughing and rubbing the snow out of his eyes.

“At least there was a lack of icicles this time,” Milo said, standing up and brushing the snow off his jacket.

“Milo, do you have a spare earpiece?” Zack asked, taking a small device out of his ear. “Mine broke when I fell.”

“Hold on a sec. Sara’s trying to get through,” Milo held out his arm. “Is everything ready? Okay, we’ll be there in a few! Cavendish and Dakota are with us.”

Cavendish wondered why he was using an earpiece rather than a cell phone. Milo just wasn’t the secretive type.

“The preparations are complete,” Milo explained to Zack. “Now all we have is the we-umph!”

Zack covered Milo’s mouth. “Wheat bread! That’s all the bread we have! Cause the store ran out of, uh, sourdough!”

Dakota sneezed into his elbow, but Cavendish could tell he was trying not to laugh.

And Cavendish wasn’t buying their story.

Milo and Zack gave their best ‘please believe us’ grins, only it would have been more convincing if their smiles weren’t taking up half of their faces.

“Well, we shouldn’t keep your sister waiting,” Cavendish said.

Milo had been right about the secluded part. It seemed as though people didn’t come this way too often. They reached a clearing, the tallest snowman Cavendish had ever seen sitting in the middle. Sara and Melissa cheered upon their arrival.

“Great! They’re here!” Sara exclaimed. “Let’s get this wedding started!”

What wedding? There weren’t chairs, an officiator, and flowers. Or any people besides them for that matter.

“A little bare for a wedding, don’t you think?” Cavendish asked.

Melissa stared at him. “Wow. I was so sure Milo almost dropped the bomb on what we were planning.”

“He almost did. Twice,” Zack replied. “I had to intervene. Did you guys believe us at all?”

Believe their sorry excuse for a lie? Not for a second. Why did they think it was acceptable to lie to them in the first place though?

Dakota sized up the snowman, then grabbed Cavendish’s hat and tossed it on top. Cavendish glared at him. “What?” Dakota protested. “It was missing something!”

Milo laughed. “We were singing Christmas karaoke when Sara said something about recreating the lyrics from Winter Wonderland. It snowballed from there, I guess. No pun intended.”

“Will the lucky grooms please stand in front of Parson Brown?” Sara announced. “That’s what we named the snowman, by the way.”

Dakota did as she instructed, Milo standing a small distance away. They smiled, sharing a fist-bump. Then Dakota turned to beam at Cavendish, as if waiting expectantly for him to do something.

Everyone was watching him.

And all the pieces were fitting in place.

“Wait!” Cavendish protested. “I-I can’t marry him! He’s my partner!”

Sara fell over, laughing uncontrollably.

“Dude, you just admitted it,” Zack smirked. Milo was snickering too hard to contribute.

Admitting what exactly? Melissa pulled him into position, next to Dakota. She frowned, then pointed to their hands. Dakota took Cavendish’s hands in his own. An odd tingling sensation flowed through Cavendish’s body.

Zack stood by him. He waved to Milo, who returned the gesture.  

“So,” Cavendish whispered awkwardly while Sara searched for the right page in a tiny book. “I guess we’re skipping the proposal and engagement period, huh?”

“I’m fine with that. Preparing is the most boring part,” Dakota said with a grin.

“I got it!” Sara exclaimed. “Okay, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Cavendish and Dakota. Yeah, no one here is objecting. We don’t need that part.”

She obviously wasn’t qualified to legally marry someone, but since when did time travelers abide by traditions anyway?

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind me skipping over the sappy stuff. We know you love each other,” Sara said. “Ugh, the print’s so small. Where’s the stuff for the ‘I do’?”

“By the way, who had the rings?” Zack asked.

“I thought you were handling them!” Melissa frowned.

“We never put a position of ringbearer in,” Milo explained. “I thought we were forgetting something important.”

“Milo, I know you and your friends were probably planning this for a while, but how in the world were you able to afford wedding rings?” Cavendish asked.

“We’re but poor peasant students who can hardly afford a snack in the school vending machines,” Melissa replied. “So we have mood rings instead. At least, we would’ve had mood rings if a certain someone hadn’t lost them.”

Zack folded his arms. “You once left a note that said ‘take home math book’ in the math book you left in the classroom. I’m not the forgetful one here.”

“After Cavendish and I are done, you two should come up here and get married too,” Dakota suggested.

Melissa and Zack’s eyes widened in horror at the mere thought, their argument quickly forgotten.

“Good one,” Cavendish said quietly, so that only Dakota could hear him.

Then he noticed a tunnel forming through the snow, and Diogee popped out, two mood rings hanging from a string in his mouth.

“Good boy, Diogee!” Milo exclaimed. He took the mood rings and passed them to Cavendish and Dakota.

“Great, cause I finally found it!” Sara exclaimed. “Will you, Dakota, take Cavendish for your wedded husband, for better or worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish-” Milo squealed, momentarily interrupting her. “-til death do you part?”

There was something in Dakota’s eyes that was unreadable, almost like a hidden sorrow buried there. “I do,” he said firmly. He gently slid the mood ring onto Cavendish’s finger. The black faded away, revealing a bright red swirl. It was bulky and made of inexpensive material, sure.

And it was perfect.  

It was his turn now. Cavendish inhaled deeply as Sara repeated the passage for him. “Will you, Cavendish, take Dakota for your wedded husband, for better or worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, til death do you part?”

“I do,” Cavendish replied without hesitation. He placed the other mood ring on Dakota’s finger.

Dakota looked down at their clasped hands. “You know it’s called a ring finger for a reason?”

“Er, I knew that,” Cavendish said quickly, correcting his error. His first act as a husband was putting the ring on the wrong finger. He was sure Dakota would never let him live it down.

“Then by the powers invested in me-even though I am not qualified at all to do this, but who cares-I now pronounce you husbands! You may kiss!” Sara exclaimed.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” the kids chanted.

“So, were you going to initiate?” Cavendish asked.

Dakota’s hands twitched, as if he wanted to find some food in his pockets to calm his nerves. “You want me to?”

“Well, yes I want you-oh, you meant the kiss,” Cavendish wondered if he should just smash their lips together now and get it over with.

Something rammed into the back of his legs, and he pitched forward. Before he knew it, Dakota caught him, and their lips-

Dear heaven, their lips were touching.

Cavendish applied a little more pressure, and Dakota reciprocated. The kids’ chants died away, and the sound of an accordion filled the air. The rhythm was soft and melodical, the perfect song for a winter wedding.

Unable to support their combined weight, Dakota’s legs buckled, and they fell into the snow. But the kiss only deepened from there, Dakota’s hands massaging his neck gently.

Cavendish held onto the back of Dakota’s head, his fingers stroking his soft, curly hair.

“Do you think we should stop them?”

“Hush! It’s romantic!”

He never wanted it to end, but Cavendish found himself sorely lacking air, and he broke the kiss. He clung to Dakota, breathing heavily. Dakota’s face matched the red on his jacket, his hand clutching his heart as if he couldn’t believe what happened.

The accordion melody came to an end. “Congratulations!” Milo called. “And sorry about Diogee!”

Sara shook her head. “They really needed that push. Good boy, Diogee.”

Diogee ate a treat from the palm of her hand.

Cavendish stood up with some difficulty, taking his hat back from Parson Brown.

“And now for the picnic!” Milo exclaimed. Sara unfolded a tarp and began spreading it out. “I just didn’t mention the wedding part. We got plenty of food!”

Dakota grinned. “Great, cause I’m famished.”

“You ate before we left the apartment,” Cavendish reminded him.

“Exactly! Which was what, a while ago?” Dakota said.

Cavendish had been right to think something had changed. But not all change was bad. After all, he never would’ve met Dakota without it. They would have times where they would goof around and accomplish nothing. They would have their bad days, where nothing went right and left them stewing in frustration. There would be moments where his deepest insecurities came to light and left his a complete mess.

And no matter what, Dakota would always be there. The most loyal person Cavendish had ever known.

It truly was a winter wonderland.

[childoftimeandmagic]

Trust One Another

AUGUST JILY CHALLENGE | @childoftimeandmagic vs @elanev91             first wizarding war + James and Lily find themselves relegated to                                                          mundane chores around the safe house until they                                                  can stand each other enough to not compromise a                                                mission by calling each other “giant ninnies” or                                                      "arrogant pillocks"

You can also read it on AO3 and FF.NET

                                         August 29th, 1979

“That’s it I’m done with these two, Albus they can’t go on another mission together!” Mad-Eyes voice was ringing through the hall. He was also holding his left arm which was bleeding heavily, most likely the result of a hex from their last outing.

               “Alastor calm down, I’ll handle it. Poppy is working with Mrs. Prewett in the kitchen, go on and get patched up,” Dumbledore spoke his voice quiet and his face smooth as glass. The only way you could tell that he was intrigued was the slight lift of his mouth on the left side, like he was trying not to smile or something. Grumbling Moody walked past him blood dripping on the floor as he moved through the house. “Miss Evans would you like to explain what happened to Mr. Moody tonight?”

               “Apologies Headmaster, Potter started it. He got all bloody noble and tried to protect me from the death eaters.” She pushed a strand behind her ear looking at their former headmaster.

               “Excuse me for wanting to protect you considering you’re my girlfriend,” he grumbled crossing his arms looking at their headmaster annoyed.

               “Right well then, I’m not your girlfriend problem solved. Just a regular woman who can fight her own battles, you’re a nimrod,” she snarled at him before turning to their old headmaster.

               “I think I see the problem here, Lily you don’t value James’ efforts to protect you, and James you don’t believe that Lily can handle herself.” Albus was stroking his beard trying to decide a way to solve this problem. He couldn’t reassign them considering that the other teams were working well and it wouldn’t be fair to those teams to be broken apart because of a this rather silly issue. “Ah I have an idea, we have a safe house in Blackpool that we need maintained in case of emergencies, I am asking you two to maintain it and hopefully work on this issue together. You can leave in the morning after collecting your things.”

               Not one to wait to see that he was being listened to Dumbledore walked into the study of the Prewett home to work with McGonagall and some other adults on battle strategies. Lily looked at James who was looking like he’d been punched in the gut. Sighing she walked past him and up the stairs to her room. Packing her things, she thought over what had happened during the ambush that they’d walked into with Moody earlier that night. Lily was prideful and while she knew that James had been fair when she’d lost her wand, to prioritize her over the mission it made her furious that he had that little faith in her.

               “Heard you and Potter are getting transferred to the Blackpool safehouse in the morning,” the gentle voice of Alice Longbottom, her best friend broke through her thoughts.

               “Yeah, we messed up on this last mission with Mad-Eye so Dumbledore is sentencing us to work our shite out in a place no one can get injured if we get into an argument.

               “You know Frank and I used to have a horrible time when we were in training to be Aurors for the Ministry. We wanted to protect each other so much and in the end, we almost cost each other the job we loved.” Alice sat down on the edge of Lily’s cot and looked at her best friend.

               “I was best in our year at defensive magic, and if the ministry hadn’t enacted that ban on hiring Muggleborns for government positions I would be in Auror training right now,” Lily threw herself onto the cot next to her best friend, “it just isn’t fair that he is always trying to save me, it’s going to cost him his life one of these days.”

               “Have you talked to him about how you feel?” Alice nudged her best friend gently and looked down at the fire-head, “maybe he would understand.”

               “Maybe, anyway we’re going to have all the time in the world to talk considering we’re going to be stuck with one another in Blackpool for the foreseeable future.”

               “How the hell did you manage to leave Moody’s back uncovered during that ambush?” Sirius was looking at his best friend like he was an idiot.

               “Lily dropped her wand and I went to have her back, I didn’t know that Jackson had died, he was Mad-Eye’s partner not the two of us,” he said glaring at his best friend.

               “You know Lily has every defensive wandless spell mastered, right?” Peter asked walking in handing Remus some letters from his parents.

               “Actually, I didn’t Peter, otherwise I wouldn’t have been as frantic to protect her now would I,” James growled out glaring at his best friends. Throwing his things into his trunks he continued packing as though they weren’t there.

               “Stop giving him a tough time guys, Peter you took a hex in the leg so Mary MacDonald wouldn’t have too. Sirius, you tackled me when you thought we were being attacked and it was just fire crackers. Point being we all do stupid shite when we want to protect the people we love,” Remus spoke up looking at his three best friends who looked very sheepish.

               “We’re taking the floo at 5 am from the study, so I’m going to bed for the night lads,” James wandlessly turned out his bedside lamp and pulled the blankets over himself.

                “I hope you slept well, I’ve given Miss Evans the key to the safe house, the wards have been recharmed to allow you two to directly floo into the property,” Dumbledore said smiling at his two ex-heads as he gestured to the brick and marble fireplace. “Good luck!”

               Lily hated flooing and since they both had their apparition license she was struggling to see the reason behind this considering that floo networks were just as monitored as apparition records. While James cleared his throat, his trunk handle tightly in his hand and the floo powder in his hand he looked around the room and nodded. “Blackpool Manor!” In a flash he was gone.

               Sighing Lily shot Dumbledore her sincerest glare and copied James’ movements readying herself for the feeling of being stretched through pipes and the soot that always got in her hair. Steading herself she glared at Sirius and Alice who were both making kissy faces before shouting, “Blackpool Manor.”

               The group standing around the fireplace all looked around, before Mad-Eye cleared his throat, “Black did you get a pool going on how long it takes them to kill each other or get engaged?” He asked his one eye twinkling with untold mischief. Sirius laughed and shook his head holding out a charmed paper.

               “You’re the only one not in it yet, Dumbledore and Minny are on the engagement track, while the rest of us think James is going to be dead in a months’ time.” He handed the spelled paper to the Auror head.

               “You lot are right fools, they’ll be shagging and engaged in less than two months, well that’s my estimate,” he huffed signing his bet before handing the paper back. Laughing the group broke up to go get ready for their own missions and responsibilities.      

               Coughing James had just stepped from the fireplace when Lily landed on her feet suitcases in hand. Reaching out his hand to take on of her bags he wasn’t surprised when she waltzed past him and into the strange home. The house was decorated as though an old couple had just left in a hurry, down to the pot of tea and moldy scones on the dining table. At least James thought they were scones. Clearing his throat again he looked at the petite firebird standing by the window looking outside the living room window.

               “We should start by cleaning the house, that way it’s ready for guests and emergency stays,” she said not looking at the goofball standing by the fireplace.

               “You’re probably right Red, this place is dustier than your parents’ house,” he muttered walking around the loveseat to the door to the kitchen. “You’re going to have to go shopping the kitchen is barren.”

Lily shook her head in acknowledgement, while taking her wand from her bun and charming her suitcases to a room upstairs. Turning to the living room she started to clear the dust and the moldy plates and cups left in the dining room. She could hear things moving in the kitchen as the house started to come alive as they cleaned each room. They went about the rest of the day getting the house ready for any eventual guests they might have in the future. It was half seven when they finished and Lily was famished.

“Potter I’m going out to the chipper, would you like anything?” she called as she grabbed her wool cardigan and her tartan scarf. James leaned over the banister and blinked she looked angelic standing there looking up at him her eyebrow raised.

“Wait Evans, I’ll come with you. We should talk,” he came flying down the stairs his glasses sliding down his noes as he slipped into his jean jacket and looked at her hair a mess. Lily had to mentally pinch herself for staring at him. Pushing his glasses up his nose he looked at her confused, “What?”                

“Nothing let’s go, I’m starving,” she said opening the door and stepping out into the early fall air, holding the door for James she was itching to hold his hand.

“Did you mean it?” he started to ask looking down at her, “breaking up with me last night?”

“Can we just get our food first, I can’t talk about this on an empty stomach,” she asked throwing out her patented puppy dog pout.

“Sure, forget I brought it up,” he shoved his hands into his pant pockets and started taking the lead through Blackpool towards the direction of town. Rolling her eyes Lily had to race to catch up. Sighing she looked at him hooked her arm through his. She just winked at him and then kept pace with him through the town till they got to the chipper.

 “Alright Evans, we’re home and you’ve been dodging this question all evening,” James said taking her scarf from her as her hung up his jacket in the coat closet.

“Oh, quit being a dolt you ninny, of course we’re still dating,” she said while she wandlessly lit a fire in the fireplace.

“You sure could have fooled me last night though,” he said wrapping his arms around her waist while tugging her back towards the loveseat.

“Well you were being a shit-for-brains last night,” she murmured squirming to get out of his hold, “James I want to make tea let me up.”

“Not until we talk about the mission last night and the fact that it landed us in this safehouse,” he said his voice muffled by her hair.

“What’s to talk about you were being a massive dolt and not watching our team members remember Jackson died because you were so focused on me,” shifting around to look at him, her eyes hard and glaring at him. “We can’t be partners if you’re going to keep forgetting the mission to keep me safe.”

“Lils, you’re the love of my life,” he pulled his hands back to slide a few inches over on the loveseat, “what is so wrong about wanting to keep you safe?”

“We’re in a war James. Our lives are on the line every day and I need to know that when it comes down to it you’ll trust that I know my shit and let me protect myself,” she stood to have few inches on him.

“Lily I know you can, but I don’t want you to have too,” he said crossing his arms over his chest.

“Remember back in school when you told me that you knew there was no sense in talking me out of joining the order because you knew why I had to fight. Where did that James go?” she asked arms crossed and her voice shaking.

“That James was fucking dolt, it was before Marlene and Dearborn were murdered, we’ve lost friends in and out of the order,” he had stood himself he didn’t look angry at her though, his face was tired and stressed. “I can’t bury you Lily, I would lose my fucking mind if you died, and if that means that you’re my top priority during a mission so be it.”

She gasped as he said what she’d been thinking and then she started to laugh, she was mad because he was being reckless trying to protect her and they were doing it for the same reasons.

“Have you thought about what your death would do to me?” she asked gently placing a hand on his shoulder to try and get him to turn towards her. “I would go out of my mind if I had to bury you next to your parents at Godrics Hollow.”

               His arms wrapped around her and held her tight as he took three shaky breaths trying to keep from crying. Placing a kiss to the top of her head he chuckled himself and pulled her with him back onto the loveseat. “So what do we do?” he sounded so pitiful and terrified as though the answer generally terrified him.

               “We have each other’s back, and we trust each other to protect us without being reckless,” she said smoothing his hair and pushing his glasses up.

               “I love you Potter.”

               “Good, I love you too Evans.”

[svetlanawagner-blog]

Welcome to our income reports where we share ways we’ve been making money through the , the challenges and lessons we learned each month, and finally to celebrate successes however big or small. Though we have a few side hustles, we’re happy that the travel is our main hustle.

Life Updates

We spent the first week of June at the IPW conference, where they shut down Disneyland for IPW, and we got to preview the new Star Wars Land. I usually opt out of conferences, and let Jacob do what he does best, but I couldn’t pass up going to Disneyland!

The second week, we were in Alaska, where we experienced 24 hours of daylight for the first time. It tripped me out, but I loved that golden hour lasted forever.

Back in Vegas, we’ve been spending more time climbing both indoors and outdoors, which has been the only way to have any work-life balance. It also helped that this month, we were able to send two of our writers to Czech Republic. Maybe I’m getting too old for back to back travel, but I like being able to come back to a home base and decompress in between.

BTW, I’m completely done with my training for setting at the climbing gym, so now I just need lots of practice. You can follow along my route setting and climbing journey @petiteclimbing or come by Origin and let me know how I’m doing. 

This post may contain affiliate links, where we receive a small commission on sales of the products that are linked at no additional cost to you. Read our full disclosure for more info. Thank you for supporting the brands that make Local Adventurer possible.

Originally Published: July 5, 2019

How We Made OVER $13.1K in JUNE - Travel Blog Income Report

Why We Share Our Income Reports

If you’re new here, you might be wondering why on earth we would share something so personal. We’ve been hesitant to share our income reports for the last 5 years, and we’re super nervous about this post, but since we’re all about trial and error, let’s see how it goes! We’re putting out these income reports for these following reasons.

To Show You How We Make Income Blogging

We always want to be 100% transparent about how we make money through this . The amazing thing about the ging world is that every we’ve talked to does things a bit differently. There are also countless ways to grow and improve your business. When we started, we made most of our money through affiliate sales. Since then, we’ve shifted heavily to sponsored content. A big part of this is because my background is in sales and it’s what I’m good at. You can learn more about my sale method below. As time goes on, this will continue to change, but we want to share how we focus on our strengths to effectively meet our goals.

To Show You the Potential of Blogging

Whether you have a or are starting a , we want to show you that you can make a career out of ging.

Even if you don’t want to , there are a ton of ways to be financially and location independent and we hope to inspire others to go after it too. If you want to keep your day job, ging can be a great way for you to make some extra side money.

Esther started the 6 years ago and I joined her full time 3 years ago. Even until last year, our parents were worried about us financially, wondering when we would stop “playing” and start taking our lives and work more seriously. Neither of us ended up being “good Asians” (namely a doctor, lawyer, or engineer). It’s an unconventional job and where most people don’t understand all the work that goes on behind the scenes.

More: The Ugly Truths of Being a Travel Blogger told by Top Travel Bloggers

We love that our jobs give us flexibility in what we do, but being your own boss isn’t all that it’s cut out to be either. You have to be disciplined and work hard at your business to grow it.

If you’re not getting the results you want, again, keep in mind that we’ve been ging for 6 years now and the first month I tried monetizing my , I made less than $20. Give it more time and failing in the process is okay. I didn’t have the correct tools that are out now and a lot of it was trial and error. Consider it all an A/B test to figure out what will best work for you.

To Track How We're Doing

I’ve always loved sharing goals online and tracking them. Putting them out in the world (via the ) has helped me so much with accountability. Since we’re constantly tweaking trying to improve the , looking at these numbers will help us learn whether we’ve been making the right changes. It’s amazing to see how the sources of income have changed over time and to see where we still have room for improvement.

Ultimately, our life goal is to make enough to live on half our income (right now we’re at 30%), where the rest will go back into the community or support organizations we love.

Breakdown of Income for June 2019

In June 2019 we earned a total of $13,160.63. 

Affiliate Income

Avantlink: $1,061.06

Commission Junction: $222.35

Misc (Ebay, Skimlinks, AWin, etc): $191.58

Sponsorships

Sponsored Product Posts: $3,038.89  *our fave marketplace lately: IZEA

Display Ads

Mediavine: $8,646.75

Income Comparison to Other Months

Total in 2019 Year Income: $135,125.49

Last Month Income: $30,944.79

Difference: 42% decrease from last month

Expenses

Web Hosting: $429.94 (Want to start a ? Here’s how you can start a in 5 easy steps)

Keysearch: $18.60

Social Media Manager, Virtual Assistants, Subcontractors: $979.17

Teachable: $89 (check out their free weekly webinar)

Office Supplies/Services: $4,272.33

Test Products/Shoot Supplies: $963.68

*Taxes: $1,192

Insurance: $613.89

Travel + Meal Expenses: $4,408.37

$193.65

*Roughly 30% of your income will go to taxes at the end of the year. The number above shows the money set aside for taxes to offset how much we have to pay at the end. It makes it less painful at the end of the year.

June 2019 Blog Traffic Breakdown + Stats

Monthly Pageviews: 664,585

Daily Average: 22,152

Monthly Sessions: 513,929

Monthly Unique Visitors: 428,569

Social Media Followers: 322,028

Email Subscribers: 8,459

Goals for June 2019

Blog Goals

Follow up IPW leads

Post once a week minimum

Update Affiliate Links for top 25 Posts

Finish moving servers (running into a few hiccups)

Document the first trip funded by Local Adventurer (more on this later)

Life Goals

Try intermittent fasting

2 date nights

Finish a book

Workout or go to the climbing gym 3x a week

Work only 40 hours a week (on weeks not traveling)

What's Working on the Blog

We’ve been so bad about posting new posts the past few months, but in June, we had at least 4! Go me! haha It’s so hard to balance creating new posts and updating older ones that need maintenance.

IPW has been a great conference for us. We always have a few good leads coming out of it. We’re excited to follow up and see if we can build new partnerships.

What Didn't Work + Lessons Learned

We’re in the process of moving servers, which will increase our site speed significantly. It’s taken longer than expected, but we want to do it right. As for income, it was a slow month in terms of payments, and a big month for spending. A lot of it is for future trips, so hopefully we’ll be seeing income come back to us later in the year.

We also haven’t had time to market the course. It’s a full time job of its own, so we’re currently looking to hire someone for marketing.

Popular Posts from Last Month

Best Sandals for Travel in 2019

The New Disney Star Wars Land – What You Need to Know Before You Go

15 Unforgettable Things to do in Palm Springs

The Ultimate West Texas Road Trip (includes a new video!)

Featured Question from Readers / Marketing Tip

Ask us anything! We’ll be featuring questions and answering them each month on these reports.

HOW TO WORK WITH SPONSORS​

The e-course is out! Are you a content creator and want to learn how to work with brands?

If you look at our income reports, we make a majority of our income from sponsored posts. We used to do many one-off partnerships with brands, but over the years we’ve been focused on longer term partnerships. Most our brand sponsorships are over $20k, and one of our most recent ones was over $35k.

With over 10 years of trial and error working in corporate and managing our first business, Jacob has figured out the best ways to pitch and work with brands.

At first we were reluctant to put out just another e-course in this oversaturated, dog-eat-dog market, but we’ve seen our coaching and course actually help people quit their jobs and start their own businesses. How cool is that? Plus, all our students who have put our course to action have made their money back within the month, and one of our students using the e-course has already booked $11k in sponsorships. So effin’ excited to see them conquer this new chapter in their lives. If you’re interested to learn more, see the intro video here.

See More Income Reports

⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

MAY – How We Made 30k+

APRIL – How We Made $21k+

MAR – How We Made $17k+

FEB – How We Made $24k+

JAN – How We Made $26k+

DEC – How We Made $29K+

NOV – How We Made $26K+

OCT – How We Made $28K+

SEP – How We Made $12K+

AUG – How We Made $32K+

JULY – How We Made $23K+

FIRST BLOG INCOME REPORT

“Discovery consists not of seeking new lands but in seeing with new eyes” – M. Proust

Esther + Jacob

Esther and Jacob are the founders of Local Adventurer, which is one of the top 5 travel s in the US. They believe that adventure can be found both near and far and hope to inspire others to explore locally. They explore a new city in depth every year and currently base themselves in Las Vegas.

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