#it seems to be something mcl are pushing i suppose

[maxlarens]

very baffled by mclaren honestly. why does anyone, let alone lando, want a completely manufactured wdc win? how does that feel good to anyone??

[rickybaby]

Money Badger strikes again!!

[missdawnandherdusk]

Will You Go With Me?

Neville X Reader

Summary: Ginny turns Neville’s proposal to the Yule Ball, and you go to comfort him finding yourself in quite a situation.

A/n: I have no idea where this came from but boy is it PRECIOUS. It’s soft and fluffy and cute and Neville is just the best. It’s just a drabble so about 1k words, but so precious. 

I was in the common room curled up with a book when I watched the events unfold before me and there was nothing that I wanted more than to curl up in my book and to not witness them.

“So, Ginny,” Neville dared to approach the fiery redhead, “I was thinking that maybe, you know that if you’re uh, not going to the Ball... with anyone yet, maybe that possibly you and I could go... maybe?” Stumbling over his words, he as flushed to the color of her hair, presenting a flower that he had no doubt grown himself. The tangible awkwardness could be cut with a knife.

“Wow,” Ginny stood, flustered. “That’s... totally sweet of you. But uh... someone else already asked me, sorry,” She left quickly after that and Neville sank down to the nearest couch, twirling the flower between his fingers.

I got up, setting my book down. Neville and I never really talked before. He was in some of my classes and when we were paired together, he’d keep his head down and barely say a word. I left something to be desired.

“Hey Neville,” I approached slowly. 

“Sorry I’ll move,” He stood immediately.

“No, wait, hang on,” I reached out for him. “Sit,” I gestured as we both took our place. I... um, just wanted to say that I saw what happened with Ginny and I think it was totally unfair,” His unsteady hazel eyes flashed to mine. “Any girl in the school would be lucky to go to the Ball with a guy as nice as you,” I offered a smile and stood.

“Really? You mean that?” He looked hopeful.

“I do,” I went to go back to my book. To be fair I should have seen it coming.

“Will you go with me?” He offered his flower out, catching me off guard. He asked again. “Will you go to the Ball with me?”

“...Yes.” With a hesitant smile I took the flower he offered.

“Awesome,” The light shining in his eyes was something that I couldn’t dare take away. “I’ll uh... pick you up at six?” I nodded and he left the common room leaving me to my thoughts.

To tell the truth, I never planned on going with anyone to the Ball. I had a few friends who were going, and we were going as a crew. It was easy and nothing to stress about. I looked at the flower in my hands and smiled to myself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful to go with Neville. I just didn’t know anything about him.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Ginny rushed back into the common room. “I’m so glad you said yes. I felt just awful,”

“I... yeah. It’ll be fun,” I smiled. “Neville is a sweet guy,”

It was the next day that I ran into a dilemma McLaggen in the common room. The Gryffindor Seeker had no insecurity as he walked up to me amidst the other students. It had been no secret that McLaggen had been trying to initiate something with me over the past few years. If he wasn’t so egotistical and bigoted, I might have said yes.

“So, Y/l/n,” He grinned. “Go to the ball with me,” He didn’t make it a question. 

“Oh, uh, someone already asked me,” I gave.

“Who? Longbottom?” He laughed. “You can’t be serious. Ditch the nerd and go with a real man,”

From across the room my eyes met Neville’s. In despair, he shook his head and left the common room like a bat out of hell. My heart fell, clearly distracted.

“I doubt that’s you,” I snapped. “Keep dreaming McLaggen. At least Neville was a gentleman when he asked.” I pushed past him and the ruffling that out little scene caused in the common room and went to look for Neville.

The corridor was empty. Looking to the left and right, the cold night gave no answer as to which way Neville went. Muttering to myself, I took a chance of where he might be. Maybe I knew something about him after all.

“Neville?” I asked the greenhouse softly. “Are you in here?”

There was a rustling in the corner. A stool scraping against the tile floor.

“Neville, I want to talk,” I pleaded, making my way over to the sound. I found him hunched over a notebook, focused on the lines his pencil made.

“You want to go with McLaggen,” He didn’t look up. “I get it,”

“No,” I corrected. “Even if I did want to go with the sleaze ball,” I muttered offhand. “I still made the promise to you, and I’m not going to break that promise,”

He finally looked up.

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” I smiled, taking the seat beside him. “You have to give yourself some more credit Neville. You really are a sweet guy,”

“You barely know me,” He mumble.

“Yeah... I thought that too. But I found you here didn’t I? That’s gotta count for something,”

“I suppose it does,” Neville smiled up at me. “You really turned McLaggen down?”

“Yes,” I laughed, gaze falling and catching sight of his paper. “Did you draw this?” I was amazed. It was a perfect replica of the flower he had given me.

“Uh, uh, yes,” He stammered, growing red.

“Can I see it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, delighting in how flustered he always got. He slid the paper toward me, bashful.

“This is incredible,” I ran my finger over the sketch. “What kind of flower is it? The one you gave me? I’m not very good at plant names unless they’re the common ones,” I admitted.

“Anemone coronaria,” Neville said matter-of-factly. “It originates from the Mediterranean and its name comes from the Greek meaning wind. They come in a lot of colors based on what soil you use, I’m partial to the white ones, but that’s just...me.” He caught my eye as he ended, growing flustered again. “Sorry I tend to rant. I know plants aren’t all that interesting,”

“I think they are,” I reached out and covered his hand with my own. “Neville?” His eyes met mine, “Will you go to the Ball with me?”

“Wh—I—okay,” He stammered, grinning at his lap. “I’d love to,”

.

masterlist

.

more like this:

neville dating headcannons

pride and prejudice

.

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[thebluenoteblog]

Knee to Knee

Summary: After being badly injured, Joel just isn't himself. It takes something big to snap him out of it.

Player: Joel Edmundson

Word Count: 3.1k

Requested: can you do a colton or joel one where he gets injured and you have to take care of him and after a couple of weeks he finally snaps at you and you leave and he gets all worried and when you come back he apologizes and you make up

Note: Joel is injured in this fic and is on crutches. There are a lot of things he struggles to do because of this. I am aware that there are people who live on crutches and are fully capable of doing these things, but my assumption is that this takes practice which Joel has not had by this point. My intention was not to offend anyone.

It was a little over sixteen minutes into the third period and the Canes were up by two goals. You stretched your arms above your head and relaxed back into the cushions of the couch, the remote balanced beside you and a bag of chips in your lap. They were playing their second of four away games and tonight’s match up was against the Panthers. The game was harder and faster than you had expected it to be and Joel had found himself in the middle of more than one scrum throughout the night.

It was almost over though, and soon you would be able to put away the chips and climb into the shower while you killed time until Joel called you. You had just glanced away from the screen to check a message that had popped up on your phone when there was a commotion between the announcers. You dropped your phone back into your lap and refocused your attention on the game. “That was a knee to knee hit. There’s no doubt about it. It looks like he’s down, they’re calling over the trainer now.”

You scanned the ice, eyes immediately focusing on the player lying face down near the net. Who was it? Finally, the guys blocking your view moved and you got a good look at who it was. 6. Oh god. About a thousand thoughts raced through your head. You couldn’t gather a single one of them into anything remotely coherent as you watched him struggle to get to his hands and knees and then lay back down, hands curled into fists beside his head.

Eventually the trainer made it to him and after a short discussion, he was being helped off the ice, supported on each side by Slavin and Svechnikov. He disappeared down the tunnel without once putting any weight on his right leg. When he was gone, the players stood around for a moment, as everyone gathered their thoughts and the screen cut to a replay of the hit. Joel didn’t even have the puck when he was hit, he was skating toward it.

You knew one thing for damn sure: you could forget taking a shower. You weren’t walking away from your phone until someone called you.

<><><><><><>

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, carrying Joel’s bag inside and holding the door open for him as he made his way through on his crutches. He hadn’t said a single word to you since you had picked him up from the airport. He was more than a little bitter that the team had sent him home to start physical therapy rather than finishing out the road trip with the rest of the guys.

It might have been a little bit selfish, but after what you saw, you were glad to have him home. He couldn’t play anyway, and you were worried about him. At least this way you knew he was taken care of. He didn’t seem to see it that way though.

“Why don’t you go sit down?” You said, “I’ll take your bag upstairs. Do you need anything?”

He frowned, “No, I’m fine.”

You nodded and turned to head up the stairs, bag in hand. You froze at the landing to see him making his way into the kitchen on his crutches clearly in need of something that he was too stubborn to ask you for. You could already see exactly how this was going to go.

<><><><><>

You placed the plate on the end table beside Joel and said, “Dinner is served,” in the most upbeat tone you could muster with him walking around the house like a storm cloud of gloom.

He looked up at you and, to his credit, tried to smile as he took the fork from your hand. “The Blues are winning,” he said.

“That’s awesome, what’s the score?” You asked as you took a seat next to him and stabbed a fork into your pasta.

“Can’t you read?” He mumbled quietly.

Your cheeks flushed, equal parts in embarrassment and anger. You’d just spent an hour cooking him dinner, one of his favorite meals, and that was the response you got? You swallowed the pasta around the lump in your throat and blinked back the angry tears burning your eyes.

He never looked away from the television. He never looked over at you. He never noticed you silently swipe a single tear from your cheek. If you really thought about it, he probably didn’t even realize what he had said.

<><><><><><>

You pulled up in front of the physical therapy building and shifted the car into park. You moved to get out of the car, grab his crutches for him, open his door, help him in any way that you could. He beat you to it. He opened his own door, climbed out of the car, hopped to the back and pulled out his crutches.

He moved to close the door, but you stopped him, calling out, “I’ll go park and meet you inside.”

He gave you a confused look, “I’m fine. I just needed a ride. Be back to get me in an hour and a half.”

Then he closed the door and disappeared through the entrance, quite easily for someone stuck on crutches who wasn’t used to them. You took a few deep breaths as you pulled away. Counted to ten in your head and tried to convince yourself that abandoning him at the rehab facility would only make things worse.

You were sure there was somewhere you could get in for an hour-long massage. You would send Joel the bill when he was in a better mood. Say you were billing him for damages he had done to your psyche or something like that. If the only repercussions he faced for acting like a tool throughout his recovery was a seventy-dollar bill for a massage, you figured you were letting him off easy.

<><><><><>

“What are you doing?”

You glanced down at the pile of clothes you were folding. “Laundry?”

Joel rolled his eyes, “I can see that, I meant, why?”

“I always do your laundry,” you said. “Do you even know what laundry detergent is?”

He shifted back and forth on his crutches, “Of course I know what laundry detergent is. Just leave it. I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re going to fold your own clothes?” You asked him, giving him an incredulous look, as you dropped a shirt into your lap. It was your shirt, not his. This was your laundry too. So, if he wanted to be a dick about this, then he was going to have to at least let you sort out your clothes. As much as you loved your fiancé, you did not want him folding things that were supposed to go on hangers. You would never get those wrinkles out.

He frowned, “You really don’t think I’m capable of folding my own clothes?”

You forced a smile and turned to the pile, “Let me get my stuff out and you can take over. I would be glad to go start lunch.”

“When do you go back to work?” Joel asked, sitting down heavily on the couch beside you, his leg propped out in front of him.

You froze, staring straight ahead, “I’m working from home for a month. Until you’re off crutches. Unless you want me to go back to work now.”

He shook his head and grabbed a shirt off the pile, “No, no. I was just wondering.”

You nodded and finished sorting the clothes in silence. You were afraid to open your mouth. You were afraid that no words would make it past the lump in your throat. That questions intention was clear: he didn’t want you there.

As soon as you sorted the last of your clothes from the laundry, you grabbed the laundry basket full of your clothes and headed to the bedroom, wiping a tear from your face as you went. You closed the door behind you and dropped the basket on the floor before collapsing onto the bed.

You buried your face in Joel’s pillow and tried your hardest to remember the days leading up to the roadie. All the smiles and the laughter and the subtle touches just to remind you how much he loved you. The way he would walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pick you up and spin you around. You would kick and scream and pretend that you hated it. Right now, you would do anything to that that Joel back. Even if he couldn’t do that, he could laugh like that. He could smile like that.

You let yourself cry for a long time, because you knew that Joel wouldn’t come looking for you. Even on the off chance that he noticed you were missing and cared enough to worry, he wouldn’t care enough to try to make it up the stairs. Yes, you knew that when you were done you would fix your makeup and go down to the kitchen, then cook him something amazing for lunch. Then you would bring it to him and probably get nothing in return except a faked smile, if you were lucky.

Still, you pulled yourself out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.

<><><><><>

“Joel, it’ll be okay.”

Joel twisted his head around so sharply that you were surprised that he didn’t stumble on his crutches, “Stop fucking saying that,” he snapped. “Stop saying it could have been worse, stop saying it’ll be okay, stop trying to make it better, stop trying to help, stop trying to make it okay.”

You flinched back, the doorknob still in your hand and you were now thankful that you hadn’t had time to close it yet. All you wanted to do was run out of this house. Away from him. Away from this nightmare. Away from whoever the hell had come home from Florida in your fiancés body.

“It’s a grade three MCL tear. It couldn’t have been worse. It could have been better. It could have been a two-week injury. Maybe one month. No. I’m out for three months and that’s assuming things go well which they aren’t. My PT says it’s looking like I could be out for over four months,” he hissed. “Does that sound like things are okay to you?”

You didn’t realize you were crying until his face softened, “(Y/N), why are you crying?”

You swiped your hands at your cheeks, “I’m going to go stay somewhere else.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, shaking his head, “(Y/N)-,”

“I don’t need to stay here and spend all day trying to take care of you just to take this… this…” you paused, trying to think of a word, any word to describe what he had been putting you through for the past two weeks. “I’m not even going to say what I’m thinking right now Joel. I’m just going to leave.”

He reached out an arm to try and grab you and he dropped one of his crutches. This time you didn’t stop to help him. He’d made it perfectly clear how he felt about your help. You turned and walked through the door, closing it lightly behind you. You could hear him calling your name as you walked down the driveway and as you pulled out into the street, he finally got the door open, just in time to see you pull away.

<><><><><>

Joel had never felt anything quite like what he felt watching you drive away and being completely helpless to stop it. His stomach sunk, his heartbeat picked up and he was finding it really hard to breathe. He stood there, on the front porch for a long time with only one crutch under his arm before pushing the door closed and hopping over to grab the one that he had dropped.

He called you about ten times before you started sending him straight to voicemail. He threw his phone across the couch. He immediately regretted it because he was the only one there to go get it and he wasn’t going to give up on trying to get ahold of you. It was useless though, he called and texted until his phone died and you never answered. He didn’t know why he was still trying; your phone was clearly turned off.

Eventually he gave up and set his phone on the charger, then made his way into the kitchen to make something for dinner. It turned out to be a lot more difficult than he had expected it to be. He wasn’t allowed to put any weight on his knee and hopping around with a pot of boiling water wasn’t exactly a bright idea, even he knew that.

He gave up on cooking and heated up some leftovers, returned to the couch, took a few bites then paused and sent you a message.

Please call me.

<><><><><><>

Over the next week, Joel realized just how much you had really been doing for him. It turns out that he really didn’t have any idea how to do laundry. He was a little embarrassed to realize this and decided that he would figure it out, then ended up doing something wrong and dyeing his white clothes blue.

He tried his best to cook and ended up doing nothing but making a massive mess that wasn’t even remotely edible. He ate a lot of take out. He wasn’t supposed to be driving so he had to Uber to physical therapy because the team was out of town. Your side of the bed was empty at night, and he hadn’t fallen asleep in his bed alone in so long that he had forgotten what that felt like.

He knew you had to be staying with someone from work, because those were the only people you knew in Carolina other than the team and you wouldn’t have gone to any of them. He didn’t have any of their numbers though, and he wasn’t enough of an asshole to show up at your work and cause a scene. You probably wouldn’t even be there. You still had a few more days of working from home.

<><><><><><>

One week and one day after you left, Joel was sitting on the couch his leg up on the coffee table and a carton of Chinese food in his hand when the front door opened. His eyes snapped in the direction of the entry way and he muted the game, set his food on the end table then moved to grab his crutches.

He got halfway to his feet before you appeared in the living room and held up a hand, “Don’t get up.”

He frowned and slowly sank back to the couch, afraid to not listen to anything you said, least you leave again. “Where have you been?” he asked.

“A friend’s house,” you said, taking another step toward him. Instead of touching him, or interacting with him in any way, you grabbed a pizza box and a couple of empty Gatorade bottles off the coffee table and walked out of the room with them.

Joel got up this time and made his way after you, pausing when you walked outside to toss the box in the trash can. You made your way past him without saying another word and he stared down at the hardwood floors for a moment before pushing the door closed and following you. “Are you staying?” He asked, quietly.

At first, he didn’t know if you had heard him. Then you turned and paused from where you were straightening the living room. “I haven’t decided yet. I guess it depends on how the next few minutes go.”

Joel took a deep breath, “How do you want them to go?”

You paused in folding a blanket, then continued and dropped it over the back of the couch. You slowly turned to face him, “I don’t think you understand how badly you hurt me.”

He looked at the floor and rocked back and forth on his crutches, “I think I do.”

“No,” you said, “You don’t. I cried every day because I was trying so hard to make you happy and all I got was sarcasm and rude comments. You asked me when I was going back to work, Joel,” you said, tears welling in your eyes at the memory. “I was going to talk to my boss about working from home for another week or two because I wanted to be home to help you until you didn’t need me, but clearly you want me gone. Clearly you don’t want my help.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t… I don’t… (Y/N) I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t have an excuse. All I can say is that I’ll be better.”

“Why? Because now you know that you need someone to cook you dinner and do your laundry?” You asked him, a tear finally running down your cheek.

He mumbled something that you couldn’t hear but sounded something like, “Shit, no.” and he leaned his crutches against the back of the couch and hopped over to you. Joel placed his hands on the side of your face and forced you to look up at him. “I wanted you to come home the second you left. This has nothing to do with me needing help. Although I am starting to realize that I do need a little bit of help,” he paused, then added, “If you came home and told me that I was out of luck and you weren’t going to do a damn thing for me, I would be fine with that. Just please, please, come home.”

You looked up at him, blinking back tears as he looked between your eyes searching for any sign that you were accepting what he was offering. Finally, you spoke, “Do you really think that I could be here and not take care of you? I’ve been home for ten minutes and I’m already cleaning up your messes.”

He smiled hesitantly, “Does that mean you’ll come home?”

You nodded, “Yes, I’ll come home.” He pulled you against him and you rose up on your toes to connect your lips. When you pulled away you smiled at him, “Seriously though, I’m sending you the bill for the two massages I got because of this nonsense.”

He laughed and pulled you in for another kiss.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part iv

And here’s part iv! I’d love it if y’all would reblog, this is a work I’m really proud of and the more people it’s shared with the better! My inbox is always open, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, even if it’s just “AAAAAH.” Enjoy!

part i part ii part iii

part iv

December 12

Cass grimaced, looking over at the tab on her laptop that had the Islanders game open. They were down 3-1 late in the third, and it didn’t look like they were going to be able to pull it off. It was the last game of a ten day roadie, and they had lost all but one against the Red Wings right at the beginning. And the Wings were 10-21, so it wasn’t even a confidence booster. To make matters worse, Mat was on a points drought; he hadn’t gotten an assist, let alone scored, since the first game of the trip, a 4-1 loss to the Blue Jackets. They also were playing a few players down, an MCL sprain and the ever-vague “lower body injury” kept the team from being at full strength. 

As the game came to a close, she didn’t even know if Mat wanted to talk to her. His relentless dedication was one of her favorite things about him, but it also led him to take things way too personally and be way too hard on himself even when  — especially when  — the situation didn’t call for it. He was probably beating himself up as the boys headed back into the locker room, being short with his teammates and trainers and whatever poor sports reporter had been sent to ask “how they planned on snapping this unfortunate streak” in the post-game interviews. He’d never be deliberately mean or unkind to anyone, but just like anyone, her boyfriend got stressed and overwhelmed and didn’t always know how to deal with it. I saw the game, she texted him, I’m proud of you. Call me if you want. 

Dec. 15 (wed)

Mat had barely spoken to her since the return from the roadie, and it was starting to get on her nerves. Texts were responded with single words, if they were answered at all. They were supposed to have visited the Met yesterday , but that hadn’t happened either. He had cancelled, saying that “some team thing came up” and he wouldn’t be able to make it. Barely apologized. And what pissed Cass of more than almost anything was that she wanted to help, she wanted so badly for him to just talk to her, she wouldn’t judge him or make him feel like he was a shitty player or a shitty person, but she couldn’t do that if he wasn’t even picking up her damn calls. Who do you talk to when there’s almost nobody in the world who understands the position you’re in? 

Maybe that was just it. She’d go to the people who did understand. Paige had added her to the WAGs Whatsapp group the week prior, and from everything she had gathered so far, it was exactly the sort of place to go for advice. Cass pulled up the chat, torn between not wanting to seem like she was oversharing but not really sure what else she could do. Hey, guys, she started. Mat’s been taking the losing streak pretty personally (as I’m sure a lot of your guys are) and seems to be pulling away. Any advice? I don’t want to push him but I know it’ll get worse if he just keeps it all bottled inside. Clicking send, Cass sighed, leaning back in her desk chair and trying desperately to study for her Environmental Law final. 

At some point after midnight, she closed her books and laptop with frustration. The test wasn’t until next week, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere trying to study as distracted as she was. She grabbed her phone, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and check the group chat. No fewer than six of the women had written back, some of whom she hadn’t even met, with long, sympathetic paragraphs overflowing with advice. She read them all, touched by the time, effort, and care that everyone has put into making her feel just a little less anxious. But the overwhelming message was clear. Find balance, but don’t let him blow you off. Be a support system, but you’re not his therapist. And repeated again and again, Talk to him. 

She tapped out a message before she turned her bedside lamp off, hoping that with morning would finally come a proper response from Mat. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow morning? You know as well as I do that we need to talk. I’ll be at Donahue’s at 8. 

Read: 12:23 AM

Dec. 16 (thurs)

Her foot tapped nervously, hands clasped tightly around the cup in front of her and beanie pulled over her head, curls poking out from under. He had read the text, but Cass had no clue if Mat was actually going to show up or not. He hadn’t responded. It was ten past eight, and Cass was just about ready to give up and head to school early. She had just put her laptop back in her bag when she caught Mat out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a small smile, equal parts nervous and almost  — bothered? “Hey,” he said softly, unzipping his puffer coat and sliding into the chair opposite her. “You said you wanted to talk?”

Suddenly, the whole elaborate speech Cass had prepared, about letting her in and supporting him and communication, left her mind. “Yeah.”

“So, talk,” Mat said, with a slight edge to his voice. 

She looked down at her cup. “I get that you’re disappointed about the losing streak. I get it and I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped —”

“I don’t think you do get it, Cassidy —”

She cut him off. “Let me finish, Mathew. I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped, and I do get how shitty it is when you know you’re putting in the time and effort and practice and it doesn’t seem like anything’s working, but you’ve barely talked to be about any of it.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to,” Mat mumbled. 

Cass leaned back in her chair. “And I get that. I get if you don’t want to talk to me. But you’re not talking to anyone. You’re not talking to Tito, I asked him and he said you’ve been just as closed-off with the team. You’re not talking to any of the other guys. And I’d bet you’re not talking to your parents or your sister either.”

No one gets it!” Mat said in frustration, a little louder than was necessary. “I go through so much shit and have so much pressure on me and…” He trailed off for a minute. “I don’t want to disappoint the team, I don’t want to disappoint the fans. I don’t want to disappoint my family. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Everyone had their ups and downs,” Cass started.

“And I get that,” Mat said, holding his head in his hands and looking down at her coffee cup. The same white-and-blue one he had gotten her two months earlier. “But it’s hard. It’s hard when I’m feeling like the fans aren’t getting what they deserve when they come to games, and like I’m not worth what they’re paying me right now. I know you want to, but you don’t get it.”

Cass looked away, turning her eyes to the street. The sidewalk was dusted in white, turning to slush every time someone walked past. It was the first snow of the year. “Then help me to.”

He breathed out, finally relaxing a little. “It’s not that easy.”

“I want to help you,” Cass said, leaning over the table and clasping his hands in hers. “But you can’t keep freezing me out like this, chou. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

Mat closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t want this to become your thing too. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I know right now kind of sucks for me but that’s just how it is sometimes, you know? It’s just how it is and I have to get over it. I have to get over myself.”

“Mat, your well-being and mental health isn’t something you can just ‘get over.’ Or even something you should. I’m not a professional, and if you need one that’s something we can find,” Mat wrinkled his face, and Cass was pointedly reminded how often men’s mental health was ignored, “but I’m here for you to talk to. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

He ran his thumb over her hand. “But you didn’t sign up for this.”

Cas shook her head. “Mathew Barzal. This is exactly what I signed up for. I’m pretty smart,” he cracked a smile, “and I knew what I was getting myself into. Dating someone with such an unconventional job and schedule can be stressful, and frustrating, and confusing for everyone involved. But I chose it, Mat. I chose you.”

Dec. 21 (mon)

For once, Cass wasn’t headed straight home after work, or headed to a game, or — God forbid — back to the library to study. Her last final had been that morning, and she was free for three blessed weeks until the New Year. Which meant that she didn’t have to worry about turning in another essay or memorizing another case, which meant that she was more than free to go to the team Christmas party with Mat later that night. He had somehow been coerced into hosting, and Cass had promised to get to his apartment early to help set up. He was mostly done by the time she got there, so “setting up” turned out to mean setting up the bar and putting out snacks, Cass mixing up an enormous pitcher of her favorite sangria, a signature standby from her sorority’s Wine Wednesdays. 

Mat had even put up a proper Christmas tree, and Cass smiled at the piney scent as she headed down the hallway, bag in hand. “Cool if I change in your room?” She shouted down the hall at Mat, who was currently engrossed in pouring a bowl full of chocolate-covered pretzels. “Yeah, go for it,” he called back. Cass didn’t have a lot of excuses to dress up, but liked taking advantage when the occasion called for it. Her dress was short, red satin with a slit on one side and silver embellishment on the other. She used his bathroom to touch up her makeup, swiping her burgundy lipstick on and double-checking her brows. Cass shoved her work clothes back into her backpack, tossing it onto the plush armchair in the corner of his room. 

She walked down the hallway, which was pretty much bare save for a few pictures of his friends from home and one with his family on the day he was drafted. She was kind of surprised that Mat owned a single picture frame. Cass sat on the couch in his living room, looking at the Christmas tree. There were one or two Islanders ornaments, a paper Santa that she assumed had been a kindergarten art project, a photo of his family around the fireplace that looked like it had been taken a year or two earlier. Mat wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha looking at, babe?” 

She smiled. “Your ornaments. They’re really pretty.”

“Not  as pretty as you.”

The door rang, Mat kissing her quickly before walking across the room to open it. A group of the younger players piled in, mostly rookies and call-ups from Bridgeport. One of them had brought along a keg of beer, and Cass had to fight back a laugh while showing him to the kitchen and setting it on the counter. He was just out of college, she’d stake her life on it. By the time she’d secured the keg and started getting people set up with drinks, the living room had started to fill up. “What can I get you?” She asked Paige, who had left Tito with the boys by the tree and made her way over to Cass. 

“What are my chances of getting a Moscow mule?” Paige asked. “I don’t want to be a difficult guest, but,”

“Very good,” Cass said, turning around and grabbing the vodka and ginger ale. “We don’t have the proper mugs though, so don’t be complaining.” One shot of vodka. Half a can of ginger ale. Squeeze a lime. She had bartended for a little over a year when she first moved to New York, and it was still one of her favorite things to do for friends. Mixing herself a whiskey sour, Cass wandered back over to Mat and Tito. 

---

It was well past eleven and the party was nowhere near stopping. While everyone was conscious of the noise level — for the most part, she had seen a few of the guys being reminded to use their inside voices — the conversations were still going and the drinks were still flowing. Cass had passed the tipsy point somewhere around 10:30, though she was nowhere near as hammered as some of the team. Or their dates, for that matter. She was cuddled up against Mat on the couch, heels long having since been abandoned and nursing what she was pretty sure was a vodka sprite with way too much vodka and way too little sprite. Whatever, Cass thought ruefully as she tipped the last of it back. It gets the job done. 

Mat was a touchy drunk, Cass had learned, and one hand seemed to have taken up permanent residence at her waist while he sipped a beer with the other. “What do you think Christmas will be like for you?” Cass asked softly, tilting up her head to look at him. “Since you won’t be with your family.” Mat knew it was a possibility, but he was still pretty upset when he looked at the schedule and realized that his family wasn’t going to be able to fly out to spend the holidays with him, and he didn’t have enough time to go back out to Vancouver. 

Her parents had extended the invitation for Mat to spend Christmas with them when she had been back up for Thanksgiving; he couldn’t make Christmas Day, but was able to carve out two days to visit. He smiled at her, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “You’re cute when you’re worried, y’know that?” Cass scrunched up her nose. “It’s not like I’m going to be alone. I’m doing Christmas with Beau, since Paige’ll be out of town too, and some of the guys usually plan a nice dinner thing for anyone who’s not with family.”

“That sounds nice,” Cass noted, still feeling a pang of guilt. 

“Hey,” Mat said, noticing her distraction. He sat up, turning her face to look towards him. “I’ll be fine. I’m a grown-ass man.” 

Cass cocked an eyebrow. “Sure about that?”

Mat giggled. “Okay, okay, fine. Point taken. But yeah, it would be nice to have my family, but I kind of do, y’know?” He said, nodding around to the guys. Cass could have sworn that in that moment, her heart melted. “And I want you to spend time with yours. I’d be kind of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t want you to.” Mat leaned in, and his lips brushed against hers so that they were almost touching but not quite, hesitantly. Cass pressed against him, her fingers finding purchase in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. She loved that he was letting his hair grow out. He tasted like whiskey and tequila and some cheap beer that she was pretty sure was Natty Light, but she couldn’t have cared less, just like she ignored the not-so-subtle wolf-whistles from the teammates. 

Everyone started clearing out around midnight, a few staying to help stuff cans and bottles into trash bags that were left unceremoniously in the kitchen to be dealt with the next morning. Cass yawned, rubbing her eyes. She had sobered up some, but was still well past the legal limit. “Whatcha doing?” Mat asked, seeing her about to order an Uber.

“Calling a ride?” Cass questioned.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Mat asked haltingly. “If you want.” Cass had obviously been over to his place before, multiple times, but hadn’t stayed the night yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, because she did, but it was something that was a big step for her. That meant a lot to her. But it was late, and she was sleepy, and Mat did make a really good pillow. “Okay,” she conceded. 

Mat smiled, taking her hand and leading her back to his bedroom. He rummaged through his dresser, grabbing an old Thunderbirds t-shirt and athletic shorts and handing them to her as she walked into his ensuite. “I don’t have stuff to get your makeup off, but there is soap?” He offered. 

Cass laughed. “I brought some wipes, but thank you. That’s really sweet.” She changed and took her makeup off, finding a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers and brushing her teeth. She popped out after a few minutes. Mat was already changed, dressed in pyjama pants and a comfy-looking heathered grey top. “The red toothbrush is mine now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, cracking a smile. A few minutes later, she had claimed the left side of the bed and he had come back from the bathroom. They were lazily kissing, Mat’s hand just barely brushing the skin on her waist from where the shirt had ridden up. Cass was still tipsy and she knew Mat wouldn’t try anything, not like this, but God, it was nice just to feel close to him. After a few minutes he pulled back, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the loose messy bun she had thrown together. “What’s running through your head, babe?” He murmured. 

Cass looked down, biting her lip. She was usually good with emotions, good with communication, but something about Mat made her heart skip a beat and brain go into overdrive all at once, and somehow she was convinced that it was the best feeling in the world. “I’m just really happy right now,” she breathed. “It’s Christmas, with our friends, and you...It’s everything I could want.” 

Mat gave the softest smile. “You, with me, right now? That’s all I could want, Cass.”

Dec 22. (wed)

Cass zipped her suitcase shut, double-checking that she had everything she’d need for her two weeks in Connecticut. It wasn’t a big deal if she forgot something, there was probably some stuff left in her old dresser, and her little sister Eliana was about the same size. Mat had just texted that he was almost there. Cass grabbed her backpack and suitcase, stopping for a moment to pop out the final few chocolates on the Advent calendar her mom had sent down. She closed her bedroom door, wishing a harried goodbye to Ryanne and Stella, and ambled down the stairs as fast as her bags would allow her. She didn’t want Mat to have to double-park and risk getting a ticket. 

True to his word, Mat was just pulling up when she came out of the building, waving one hand and double-checking the street was clear before flipping his hazards on and hopping out to help her put her bags in the trunk. Kissing him on the cheek in thanks, Cass slid into the passenger’s side, giving Mat a very pointed look when she saw that the first song on his playlist was Justin Bieber. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbled, blushing. 

“Who said I’m making fun of you?” Cass said lightly, trying and failing to hide her smile. 

They had decided that Mat would make the drive, since he was only staying two nights they had figured it would make more sense. The directions had been plugged into the Bluetooth system, and they had just made it out of the city when Mat looked over at the passenger’s seat, furrowing his brow when he saw Cass’s expression. Something was bothering her. “What’s up, babe?”

She bit her lip. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, we both decided we weren’t going to do this anymore. You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I think you want to talk.”

Cass looked down at her lap. “I got a letter from the company that’s handling my student loans.”

“I thought you didn’t have any debt?” Mat asked quizzically.

She let out a single, humorless laugh. “That was for undergrad, and that was only because I was really, really lucky. I got some money from the school and I worked some, but that only covered about half of my costs? A little less?” 

“Which leaves you with how much?”

“A hundred and ten thousand dollars, give or take. They were sending me the payment schedule, I have to start paying it back late next year.” 

Mat breathed out. He knew that Cass didn’t come from money, but being from Canada and not having gone to college himself, he wasn’t really aware of just how debilitating student debt could get. “Do your parents know?” He asked gently.

Cass picked at a loose thread on her scarf. “Yeah. They helped as much as they could, but there’s three of us and they’re not made of money. “I, uh,” she paused briefly, “I told you I went to private school, yeah?” Mat nodded. “Catholic school doesn’t come cheap, so I was actually on work-study at my high school, which helped a lot. But I hated it.”

“Your school?” He questioned. 

She shook her head. “No, I loved my school. It was great. I just hated feeling like a charity case. My school’s in a pretty well-off neighborhood, so most of the families there had money, and some were like proper ‘old money’ New Englanders. I had some great friends and nobody ever really outwardly was an ass about it if they knew, but still…” She trailed off.

“You felt like you never quite fit in.” Mat finished.

She nodded. “It was hard and it sucked sometimes, but that’s just how it is, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. 

Two hours later, Mat pulled into Manchester, following Cass’s directions down the winding roads and corners of her hometown. “Do you think they’ll like me?” He asked nervously, eyes flitting between Cass and the road in front of him. 

Her brow furrowed. “Who? My family?” Mat nodded. “My family’s going to love you. You’re kind and you treat me with respect. That’s all they’ve ever wanted for me. And my brother already worships the ground you walk on, practically,” she added with a smile. 

“He’s a junior, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” she responded. Cass’s younger brother Noah was a junior in high school, and one of the best players on his club hockey team. Hockey didn’t run cheap and he had been lifeguarding the past few summers to pay for it, but it was all starting to pay off and he was having some interest shown by college scouts. 

Mat pulled up beside the curb in front of her house, killing the engine and shoving the keys back into his pocket. Cass popped the trunk and took her backpack, while Mat got his duffel and her suitcase. She reached for his hand as they walked up the driveway, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she rang the doorbell. 

“Cass!” Eliana squealed, hugging as much of her sister as she could manage around the bags. “Put your bags by the door, Dad’s grilling out back and I think Mom’s making your bed.” Mat had had an afternoon game and the two had left not long after, so it was dinnertime and Cass was ravenous. “Grilling in December?” She questioned. 

Eliana shrugged, closing the door behind them. “You know Patrick, you go be the one to tell the man he can’t make burgers in the winter.” She turned to Mat, also greeting him with a hug. “You must be Mat, Cass talks about you a lot.” 

Cass swatted her. “El!”

Mat chuckled. “Yeah. Mat Barzal, nice to meet you. Good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Eliana said, leading them through to the back porch, where her dad was grilling on the patio while Noah was doing sprints up and down the lawn. He almost fell when he spotted Cass and Mat, causing Mat to have to hide a laugh behind his hand. Her dad turned around, setting the spatula down when he saw them. Mat swallowed, sticking out his hand for a shake. “Mat Barzal, sir.”

“Call me Patrick. Good to meet you Mat, go get settled and we should have dinner ready in a few, okay?” Mat nodded. “Noah, pick your jaw up off the floor and go help them with their things, okay?” Noah ducked his head, brushing the dirt off his shorts before jogging over to where Mat and his sisters were on the porch. 

“Do I hear my Cassidy?” Cass could hear her mom inside, walking down the hallway with Noah and Mat before she ran into her by her old bedroom. “It’s me, Mom!” Cass said excitedly, hugging her mom. Mat initially went for another handshake, but she shooed it away, embracing him. “We’re huggers in this family,” she said by way of explanation, pulling away after a moment. “Ysabel Cabrera, so nice to finally meet you, Mat.” 

Mat smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you too.”

Ysabel pointed down the hall. “Noah’s got bunk beds, so you’ll be with him in there, it’s the last door on the left. Cass, I trust you still can find your room.”

“Yes, mamá,” Cass said, rolling her eyes. “See you in a few, chou.” He kissed her on the cheek, under the watchful eye of her mom, and followed Noah down the hall. 

---

Two hour later, Mat and Cass were cuddled together on the living room couch, his arm slung around her as they half-watched reruns of Parks & Rec. “D’you just want to do presents now?” He asked, looking down at her. “Because I know we’ve got plans tomorrow, and I don’t see how it really matters if we’re not going to be together Christmas Day.”

Cass looked up. “Uh, sure, if you want?” 

“Meet you back in a minute,” Mat said, hopping off of the couch and disappearing down the hall. Cass rolled her eyes, walking into her room, grabbing the envelope, and returning to the living room. Mat got up when she entered, proudly handing her a surprisingly well-wrapped present. 

“You look very pleased with your work,” Cass noted, laughing. 

“I watched a Youtube tutorial,” Mat admitted, “but did you know that there’s so much that goes into folding neat corners? It’s practically an art!”

“I’ll take you word for it,” Cass said, handing him his envelope. “Open yours first.”

Mat sat back down, running his thumb through the flap and pulling out a coupon. He looked at it quizzically for a minute. “Beer delivery?”

“Craft beer delivery,” Cass corrected pointedly. “Because I don’t want you to have to resort to Natty Light ever again. I saw your fridge, it’s actually the worst. You need taste, babe.” Mat snorted. “And they deliver to Canada, so you don’t have to worry about missing out on the offseason.” 

“I love it, pretty girl,” Mat said, kissing her. “Now open yours.” Cass carefully popped the corners open, unfolding the wrapping paper. My Beloved World - Sonia Sotomayor. “You said once that you really admire her, and I didn’t see it on your bookshelf, so I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, I love it. I love that you remembered even more,” Cass added. 

But Mat wasn’t done. “Open it,” he said expectantly.

Confused though she was, Cass opened the cover of the book. “It’s...signed? She said softly, reverently tracing her fingers over the inscription. 

“Yeah.” Mat went on, explaining, “I found it in this little bookstore in Brooklyn, and knew I had to get it for you. Knew what it would mean to you.”

“It’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you’d do something like that for me.” 

Their foreheads touched. “Why wouldn’t I?” Mat whispered. “It’s for you.” 

And in that moment, there was nothing anyone could do to take away how happy that made her feel. How happy he made her feel. 

[skgway]

1832 Nov., Tues. 6

8 50/..

12 1/2

Fine morning – Fahrenheit 49º at 9 20/.. a.m. – Called up to Wilson the joiner come about the library passage up and down stairs in 1/2 hour – Till 9 giving orders – Then breakfast with my father – Waited for Marian to order about flannel for waistcoats and drawers. Determined to have all ready to be off in January –

Had Washington – To have all the bills next week for wearing, mystal at Southolme etc. etc. – Just saw my aunt for a few minutes – Very kind 2 1/2 pages Letter from Miss McL– [MacLean] (Coll house aros) to say the bay on laurel leaved willows were sent off to Glasgow yesterday week with orders to be forwarded here immediately –

Off at 11 1/4 with Marian to call at the vicarage – There in 20 minutes and sat 1/2 hour with Mrs. Musgrave – Then went with Marian to Walker’s shop to order flannel etc. for things for me in readiness for being off – Hoped I really should be on route in January – Then parted with Marian –

Went to Whitley’s. Bought Hooper’s medical dictionary 25 /. [shillings] published at 28 /. [shillings] and in 50 minutes at Lidgate (at 1 1/2).  Miss W– [Walker] very glad to see me, I having said I should not go till tomorrow – Sat 1/2 hour with her and home at 2 1/2 –

Met Mr. Samuel Waterhouse junior (ætatis 17) at her gate – Stood talking a few minutes while Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood left Miss Walker – Mr. S[amuel] W[aterhouse] just came to her door to ask how she did – She said she should have me to nurse [her] now and really seemed much better and in good spirits. 

Talked of the agreeable surprise of seeing [me] but yet seemed more inclined to talk of business than love. I appeared in more than good spirits. She would think them all put on. And perhaps believe me feeling more acutely than I really did. I kissed her, but in a common way, and she did not push herself to me as yesterday and was more guarded.

She will not give me much reason now either to hope or despair. Her self possession will probably be undisturbed enough. I left her with no pleasant feeling, saying to myself, ‘Damn her. It is an arrow and perhaps a lucky escape.’ I dont think her answer will be yes.  And the more easily reconciled I am the better. Shall I dislike her by and by? At least I shall be more at liberty without her –

Fred Wilson, the joiner, and his man in the library passage at 2 1/2 – 26 or 27 inches lower than my blue room closet but determined not to be beaten with it, and went on – Dusty job to get the studding down –

Had only just managed and given orders what was to be done when James Holt came at 4 5/.. and had him till 6 – Something must be wrong that Mr. Jeremiah Rawson will not let go into their works – Probably they are stealing my coal already – Holt says I should not take less than £200 per acre but if he was in their place he would not give £250 per acre –  

Said I had at 1st asked the price between the 2 leases (£205 and £230) = £217.[pounds] 10. [shillings]. 0 [pence] but had said I should be worse to deal with now – Proposed asking £220 per acre but Holt owned the coal was worth as much now as when sold to Oates and Green and worth quite as much or more to Rawsons than to them (∴ [therefore] I ought to have £230 per acre) –

Owned too that I ought to have more for the coal at the top of the land, for it would make that at the bottom of less value. He thought they had a hundred yards plumbing dip i.e. could get with the water head a hundred yards breadth on this side and alongside the present waterhead driven by Oates and Company – Should shew Mr. J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] the coal plan – Ask him what fields he wanted and might let him Hugh grave field and the coal ungot to the north west of it and to the north east down in a straight line under the cunnery plantation down to the road but not to let him come lower down – 

Owned afterwards it would be as well not to let him come lower than the Cunnery houses, for if he got down to the brook he could throw such a quantity of water upon us – If he did not come lower down than Cunnery houses or the present Wakefield road, I might leave or fence of coal or turn the water, and not be so much injured –

Holt would meet J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] on the ground and see what he wanted – No air pit necessary for the lower bed coal, and not to sell any upper bed but by a separate agreement – Upper bed costs 6 d [pence] a score (corves) more getting than lower bed, and not being able to get it all, obliged to leave posts, makes it not work so much by £50 an acre as lower bed –

If J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] would not let Holt go into his works, I might propose either of the 2 brothers Squire or Tom Lassey of Thornhill, the former steward to Mr. Ingham of Misfield – In making the agreement to have surface measure, and the power to send down people into the works whenever I liked, and to have a clause to prevent J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] damming or turning any water back into the old works after he had got the coal (Had I not better have a bond of indemnity against this?) otherwise he might drown me in water and prevent my getting the coal below where he had been getting and had turned the water –

It was right enough that I should make no allowance for gauls or jumbles or ruttle – Great difference between drawing out at the day and pulling up thro’ a shaft – At their (Holt’s) pit on Swales moor 150 yards deep pulling costs them 18 pence a score; and ropes cost them £15 or £16 a year – One collier may be reckoned to get 25 corves a day for five days in a week – If J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] gets £100 profit per acre it will be quite enough –

Then see according to the following what to ask an acre for the coal –

Making all sufficient allowances there will come out of one square yard 5 corves, which (as J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] sells at 7 d [pence] and 8 d [pence] a corve, average at 7 1/2 d [pence] a corve –

Expense of getting 20 corves (or one score) 4 /. [shillings] to the colliers –

Banksman 1 /. [shilling] a score – wear and tear say 6 d [pence] a score, certainly enough –

Lower bed 18 inches thick – Lightcliffe bed 25 inches thick – Billy stocks paid £260 an acre 5 or 6 years ago for what he bought – This that Hinscliffe is taking must be worth as much – He will have very little to sink – 14 or 16 yards and coals worth less as nearer the surface – But not for being dry – But there is a gaul that throws up the coal near Lidgate (breaks out in the road going up the hill) and there cannot be any coal on this side that gaul near more than a daywork or 2 to get in that field next below the Smith (Hinscliffe’s) –

Speaking of Godley, wished Holt not to let it go for nothing but said I had mentioned it to Mr. Samuel Freeman – Holt said I could employ no one better – He said it was North £80 a daywork but £ a daywork was the outside – ∴ [therefore] the 20 dayworks = £2000 

Carr has been arrested several times lately – Speaking of the cottages on Godley land, Holt knows that the 4 belonging to his uncle George Holdsworth would be sold – Cost £50 each building and £40 the ground – But might be had he thinks for £ 200 – Will inquire and let me know –

Speaking of his farm, some people might buy it at 3 1/2 percent Rent £66 per anum but it would not suit him to buy land at that price – He explained the manner of working coal pits – Asked him to give me an underground plan of a pit in working and asked him to let me know when I could go down with him into one of his pits. I must understand coal-getting before I have done with it – Holts pit at Binns bottom will be ready for working in 2 months from this and I can go in at the day –

Dinner at 6 3/4 – In 1/2 hour wrote and sent at 7 35/.. 3 pages to “Dr. Belcombe York” or rather 2 pages and 3 or 4 lines to him and the rest to his wife, to be torn off and given to her, thanks for her letter and to say yes! I thought black velvet properly garni au blonde (white) would be very becoming to her –

Told him wished I could give a better account of his patient, but she was not worse on his hands, which was marvellous considering the affliction she had had on account of the sudden death of her most particular friend, the news of which had arrived the day after our leaving York – No pills last Thursday – Begged to have them next Thursday – Ask how long they are to be gone on with without interruption – She thought at 1st, but not afterwards, they gave her much physicky pain in her bowels – These last had behaved very well considering the affliction she had been in –

In fact, she believed she could not have been so well now, had she not had his advice – He is ‘in très bonne odeur’ and his patient has faith enough in him – Mr. Day has been and, I suppose, would not let her believe in her own existence without the use of his ointment but ‘ce nous est égal’ – Ask him to write a letter I can shew. Not to spare a little anxiety and to ask whatever questions he knows will be proper. ‘Indeed not say I have the good of your reputation at heart’ –

John’s son Joseph Booth came over with Scott’s head groom to bring 2 perfect horses to Mr. Thomas Dyson of Willow field – Had him (Joseph B– [Booth]) in and spoke to him – He is grown, and improved – Perhaps I shall take him with me abroad – Then writing journal of today – Had John in – He is much pleased and satisfied with his son – Talked to him about his family – To send Charlotte for my aunt, to hear her read and see her sewing so as to be able to judge what she can do and be fit for –

Then my father and Marian just gone to bed. A few minutes with my aunt – Then came back to the drawing room – Read my letter from Vere dated Turin 24 October 3 pages and ends of small sheet (Frankfort paper) – Very nice chit chat amusing letter –

And read my letter from Lady Stuart (Richmond park) enclosing Vere’s 2 last to her – A kind 1/2 sheet full and a few lines on the envelope (franked by Lord Goderich) from Lady S– [Stuart]. These letters put me in spirits. I am better without Miss W[alker] – 

11 1/2 before I had read my letters and written so far of today –

5 corves at 7 1/2 d pence = 37 1/2 d [pence] = 3 1 1/2 per square yard

One score or 20 corves = 12/6 [shillings/pence] expense of getting which = 4 /. [shillings] to the colliers. 

∴ [therefore] 12/6 - 5/6 = 7 /. [shillings] clear gain per score = 1 /. [shilling] to the banksman or per 4 square yards = ./6 [shilling/pence] wear and tear (quite enough) –

At the forgoing rate, 5 corves or 1 square yard = clear gain of 1/9 [pound/shillings], 1 score (20 corves) or 4 square yards = clear gain of 7 /. [shillings] ∴ [therefore]

1 acre or 4840 square yards = at 1/9 [pound/shillings] per square yard or 7 /. [shillings] p[e]r 4 square yards = £423. [pounds] 10. [shillings] 0 [pence]

Now Holt said this calculation would do, and that £100 clear gain per acre was enough ∴ [therefore] if I have £250 per acre J[eremiah] R– [Rawson] has a profit of 423. [pounds] 10. [shillings]. 0 [pence] – 250 = £173. [pounds] 10. [shillings] 0 [pence]

Very fine day – Went up to my room at 11 50/.. at which hour Fahrenheit 49º

[sideways in margin] Sunday 23 December 1832 vide page 231, suppose Messieurs R– [Rawson] to sell at 7 1/2 per corve or 12/6 per score and allow half for expenses, then 48040/4 or 1210 x 6 shillings x 3 d [pence] = £363 + 15. [pounds] 2. [shillings] 6 [pence] = £378. [pounds] 2. [shillings]. 6 [pence], so that paying me £230. [pounds] 10. [shillings] 0 [pence] per acre then remains to Messieurs a profit per acre of £147. [pounds] 12. [shillings] 6 [pence]

[tetrakys]

Trois Allumettes - Chapter 14

Rewrite of MCL UL episode 16 with Lysander.

Big thank you to the people who sent me their suggestions, let me know if you think I got it right.

FYI the song I mention at some point is Tsar B - Escalate

Chapters 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13

“She’s here!”

I looked up startled by the sudden commotion around me. I’d been walking slowly, my eyes on the ground, lost in my thoughts. I couldn’t stop picturing Nath covered in blood on the gym floor.

What had supposed to be one of the most pleasant evenings out of these holidays, had turned out to be one of the worst, spending hours at the hospital hoping for Nath conditions to be not as bad as they seemed.

I was finally back to campus and the whole little group with whom I’d gone to the carnival what felt like ages ago, was there, relieved looks on their faces as soon as they spotted me.

“I…” when I saw Lys my eyes got all misty, and the pressure suddenly subsided. I threw myself into his arms sobbing.

“Candy… I’m here…” he hugged me against his chest, and I got the feeling that the hold of his embrace calmed my heartbeat.

I cried in his arms for a minute, probably drenching his elegant coat with my tears. When I calmed down, he kissed me gently on the head.

They all wanted to know about Nath. I wasn’t looking forward to their questions, but apparently they already knew most of it from Amber. At least they knew that he’d been taken to the hospital after a beating. I filled them in with what I could. I had to stick to the mug story, I couldn’t tell them the truth, it wasn’t my place to.

“What a jerk!” we all turned around surprised to see Castiel fuming. “He supposedly wants to handle the situation on his own and then calls Candy? I doubt she’s the most appropriate person to call when you get mugged. What was the point? For her to see his condition without actually being able to help him? Imagine if the group of muggers had still been on the premises?! They would’ve gone after you too!”

“That’s enough, Castiel.” Lysander said in a firm tone, laying his arm around my shoulders. “We appreciate your concern, but this is not the right time. As you can clearly see Candy is upset enough.”

“Sorry,” Castiel nodded, “I shouldn’t have talked about it now, but it seemed important to make the point. We were all worried about you… My concern is what was talking.” He added, looking at Lysander earnestly.

We all said goodbye and Lys walked me to my dorm room.

“Are you ok?” he asked me as soon as we were alone in front of my door. Concern in his eyes, he sweetly stroked my cheek and I leaned into his touch.

“I didn’t know what to do, Lys… I felt so helpless.”

“You did the right thing, calling an ambulance. Despite his harsh tone and bad timing, I agree with Castiel. Nathaniel shouldn’t have put you in this situation, he should’ve called the emergency number from the start instead of putting you in unnecessary danger. I wish… I wished you’d asked me to go with you.” He added taking me in his arms.

“Lys… I didn’t think about it… I just ran.”

“I know. And this is one of the things I admire the most about you. You’re just so good and kind, you’d literally do anything for your friends. I just hope that one day you’re going to trust me enough to see me as the person to lean on when things get rough.”

“I trust you, Lys.” I hugged him tighter but didn’t add anything else, and he didn’t either. We both knew that we didn’t have nearly enough time together to become each other’s crutch.

“When I couldn’t find you I got so scared Candy. I pictured you alone, in that crowd and the worst scenarios ran through my mind.”

I kissed him apologetically, “I’m sorry for disappearing on you like that. And just when we’d finally managed to find some time to be together.”

“About that… I’m going to be busy tomorrow, and the day after I’m leaving for the farm where I’m going to spend the rest of the week.”

I felt my heart sink. We were on vacation, I was hoping to spend at least a bit of time with him and he was leaving.

“Would you… I mean…” I looked up at him, surprised by his stuttering and sudden embarrassment. “If you’ve nothing else to do… you could come with me.”

With him? To the farm? A whole week together?

I knew my answer already.

---

 “A whole week together starting with a road trip?” I said looking at Lys’ beautiful profile focused on the road ahead. “I feel quite lucky.”

“I would hardly call this a road trip,” he laughed, “it’s just a few hours stuck in a car with me, and I know I’m not the most talkative person. I’m afraid it’s going to be quite boring.”

Mph… he had no idea… how non-bored I was feeling at the moment. I’d always found men at the wheel quite sexy, but this particular man… the way he hold the wheel, his firm grip, his focused stare… he had a certain authoritative and slightly aggressive way of driving that seemed a little out of character for him and, at the same time, suited him a lot. It made me wonder if there where other aspects where he could act bossy and rough.

The simple thought made me blush.

To be honest, I hadn’t been able to think about much else these past 24 hours. Since knowing that I was going to spend the week at the place he’d grown up, I’d been ecstatic, I couldn’t wait to learn more about him and his past.

But when the thought of spending the night together had finally sunk in, I started to hyperventilate.

Not because I didn’t want to. I wanted to, oh… I really wanted to. I literally couldn’t wait. I’d even bought new underwear. A black and red corset with laces at the back but that could easily be removed thanks to convenient zip at the front, it also came with matching panties.

No, I wasn’t hesitant at all. I was fully prepared to take things to the next level.

What I wasn’t sure of, was if he wanted to.

The one time we’d come close to it, or at least were heading towards it, he’d backed off. He’d said he didn’t want to take advantage of me, knowing he was going to leave in a few months. The mere thought was absurd to me, no one was taking advantage of anyone here, I was very willing, more than willing. Also, we hadn’t been officially together at the time, so maybe his feelings had changed meanwhile.

Still, I was afraid of how he might react if we got close to it again, I wasn’t sure my self-esteem could take another rejection.

“Anyway, thanks for coming with me. Your presence alone is going to brighten what would’ve otherwise been a very tedious week.”

He explained that he didn’t have much heavy work to do, since the people he and Leigh had hired to work at the farm for this year where taking care of it. But he was supposed to meet with some clients, mostly local business owners, restaurants and such, who made use of their products.

This meant we were also going to have lots of free time to spend together. I literally couldn’t wait.

We spent the whole afternoon quietly listening to music on the radio, I made him laugh when I tried (and failed) to sing along. Let’s just say I’d never been gifted with a perfect pitch.

Sometimes he absentmindedly rested his hand on my knee, and my head went completely into overdrive. Particularly when his fingers lightly caressed my skin, sometimes rising a little up on my thigh.

I could tell that he wasn’t completely conscious of these gestures, because as soon as he realised what he was doing, he quickly removed his hand placing it back on the wheel. His grip so tight his knuckles became white.

We only stopped once to grab a quick bite, and when we arrived at the farm, it was already dark.

“I’m going to show you around tomorrow morning,” Lys said while we walked up a few steps to reach the front door. “It’s too late now and you need daylight to move around the property if you’re not used to it.”

He was right, I could tell the house was a big, old villa, but it was too dark to make up anything else. Inside though… as soon as he opened the door and turned on the light I was left speechless. It was old, yes, and rustic, definitely nothing I would’ve associated with Lysander, but it was also homely and comfy. We passed through a living room hosting a couple of soft-looking sofas that I was dying to throw myself on. A fireplace on the wall completed the picture of the perfect, dreamy, country house.

He showed me quickly the kitchen and the bathroom and stopped in front of a door.

“Here we are, this is your room.”

My… excuse me?!

“You’ll find clean sheets on the bed and extra pillows in the wardrobe if you need them. Goodnight.”

He leaned to leave a quick kiss on my cheek and disappeared in the room next door.

I remained there for a few seconds, petrified on the spot.

What had just happened?

Okay, I suspected he might still be worried about “taking advantage of me”, hurting my feelings, or whatever crazy idea he had created in his mind that stopped him from getting physical with me. But… even sleeping together, hugging each other, would have been amazing. I just wanted to feel closer to him. And now, with just a wall between us, he seemed so far away.

I pushed the door and stepped into my room. I didn’t even look around, I just headed directly to the bed like a zombie and sat on it.

He must’ve been tired for sure, having driven the whole day, still… it didn’t explain his odd behaviour.

Was it… me? Was he tired of me after spending the day together in close quarters? But it seemed he was having fun the whole time, I was positive about that. No, something else was going on.

I spent at least an hour sitting on that bed, trying to figure out what to do with no success. I might as well call it a night, it was very late, probably around 3am. It was best to try to get some sleep and talk to him the following day.

I removed my dress and remembered what I was wearing underneath. That corset had brought nothing but the worst of luck. I was now left in it and a long underskirt with a side cut that I made myself so that I could use it underneath a couple of dresses in that particular style.

I was about to start removing everything else so that I could slip into my nightwear, when I realised I was parched and it was probably a good idea to grab a glass of water from the kitchen before going to bed.

I just removed my shoes and headed towards the kitchen barefooted as to not make too much noise waking up Lys.

Trying to find my way to the kitchen in the dark wasn’t easy. I took the wrong turn a couple of times, when I finally found myself in the right room, I felt I was dying of thirst. Filling a glass from the tap, I took a huge sip and that’s when I heard the music.

Yes, there was music coming from somewhere. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but it sounded soft and almost sad.

Leaving the glass on the kitchen counter, I followed the sound, step after step bringing me closer to the source of the music, until I found myself in a room where something incredible was going on.

A huge grand piano was in the middle of the room, which was mostly dark, lighted by candles in different corners. Lysander was playing, following a music coming from a sound system. He looked so focused, so immersed in the music, I’d only ever seen him like this that one time he was reciting his poem at the open mic.

I had no idea he could play, and he definitely could. He’d rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up over his elbows and I stayed there, charmed. looking at the expert movements of his hands on the keys, listening to the amazing sounds he was creating. I could feel it reverberating in my chest, as if I was under a spell.

“Did I wake you up?”

Lys voice took me back to reality. The piano’s final note had just died but the song was still playing, probably on loop. It sounded so different without the piano, less melancholic and more sensual.

Or, at least, those were my feelings when I saw Lys raising his head to look at me, and I remembered that I was half undressed, only wearing my lingerie.

He took in my whole body, from head to toe. Starting from my flushed face and my long hair that I’d left loose around my shoulders, reaching mid-waist. He took in my corset and the way it squeezed my chest, creating a generous cleavage and a tiny waist. Then my hips, hugged my the underskirt, and the deep cut, that showed my thigh and leg, down to my bare feet.

He was speechless and couldn’t take his eyes off me.

“You didn’t,” I replied, “I was on my way back from the kitchen when I heard the music. I’m sorry if I interrupted your practice. I had no idea you could play the piano.”

I stepped into the room and walked towards him, stopping in front of him next to the piano.

I pressed on a key out of curiosity, the sound reverberating into the room. “You’re incredibly good.”

He smiled sadly. “Thank you, but I’m far from it. My mother was the pianist of the family, I’m but a mere amateur. I play from time to time to calm myself, when I’m too pensive or restless.”

“And what are you now? Pensive or restless?”

“Both.” He replied earnestly, resting his hands on my hips. “I feel restless because I can’t stop thinking about you and at how much I want you.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words.

“I feel the same. I want you and I can’t sleep thinking about how you pushed me away the moment we stepped into this house.”

He didn’t try to deny it, he knew exactly what I was talking about. I was standing in front of him while he was still sitting on the bench, from my higher vantage point I felt I could act bolder, so I laid my hand in his hair, caressing the soft tendrils between my fingers.

He closed his eyes, lost in the sensations of my caresses. “I was trying to do the right thing, but I don’t think I can anymore.”

“Good.” I simply replied. “If being together is wrong, then I’m ready to make the biggest mistake of my life. Over and over again.”

His hands tightened their hold on my hips and when he opened his eyes again I could read so much longing and lust that I knew he was done pretending now.

Before I could realise what he was doing, he pushed me against the piano and made me seat on the keyboard. The cacophony of sounds completely ignored as he attacked my mouth with his. One hand grabbed my chin, as his lips took possess of mine, repeatedly. His other hand grabbed my thigh through the slit and moved it so that I could hook my legs around his waist.

Without interrupting our kiss, he lifted me and, walking around the instrument with complete ease, as if I weighted nothing, he dropped me on the closed lid.

Only then we finally came up for air. I knew I must be flushed and completely dishevelled, but he looked at me as if I was the most fascinating piece of art he’d ever laid eyes on.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said almost pained. “I never knew what desire was until the day I met you. I thought I did, but it turns out I was just an ignorant fool. You haunt my thoughts and dreams Candy, day or night, I’m inevitably, completely yours.”

I wasn’t as good with words as him, so I simply took his hand and put it on my chest, right above my heart. “So am I. Yours.”

This seemed to be enough for him to put aside any final reservation and doubt. The hand on my chest got bolder and he grabbed my breast above the fabric of my corset. When he realised the garment was nothing but an hindrance to his explorations, he grabbed the zip and slowly opened it, savouring the exquisite torture of anticipation.

At the same time his other hand went beck to my thigh, caressing higher and higher.

The moment my chest was completely exposed to his eyes, he looked spellbound and lowered his lips to my soft skin. His hand now had finally reached the spot it was looking for, and the combined sensations of his lips and his fingers above the fabric of my underwear, was enough to make me lose my mind.

But before I could even start to let go, he left my body and I almost cried at the loss. Grabbing both skirt and slip, he pushed them down my legs, so that now I was completely naked in front of him.

He looked so handsome and impressive as he took in my now completely naked body, that I almost felt like a sacrificial offering to a god, and I was ready lo let him do whatever he wanted to me.

He slowly, without breaking his eyes away from any part of my body he felt like looking at, removed his shirt, so that now I had a perfect view of his chiselled chest that I was dying to feel under my fingers. But he didn’t give me the chance to raise to touch him.

Grabbing my knees, he opened me to his stare, and I saw his eyes turn incredibly dark and lose any trace of self-control.

His mouth was on me before I could even say a word, not that I wanted to. Pushing me down, he made me lie with my back on the piano, and helped me slide so that now my bottom was at the edge. His hands on my breasts, grabbing with a rough strength that was almost deliciously painful, and his tongue on my bundle of nerves, tasting me hungrily.

When one of his hands rose up to my face and his index finger rested on my lips, I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, so I looked at him in the eye as I took it in my mouth and sucked, wetting it with my saliva.

A few seconds later I felt that finger entering me.

I dropped my head on the piano and lost myself in the sensation. He was playing my body with the same focus and passion as he’d done with the piano, and I hoped that the sounds I was making were as pleasing to his ears as his music had been to mine. I was panting, moaning, and crying his name over and over again and, when I felt I was just about to fall off the edge of pleasure, he stopped and stepped back.

I groaned in frustration. I’d been so damn close.

But before I could find the strength to protest or beg, I felt something much bigger than a finger entering me and he took my breath away.

Yes!

We were finally one, and I could feel him everywhere, inside of me and over me.

If I thought making love with him was going to be sweet and tender, I was wrong. Completely wrong. He was rough, and strong, and he took me as if he wanted to possess me completely, body and soul. There was still something loving in the way he delicately moved a tendril of hair from my face and caressed my lips, as if he wanted to kiss me, but the position made it impossible. So he kept pistoning inside me like a man possessed. The moment his thumb came to my clit I came while crying his name.

And as I came down from my high, and my eyes found his again, he followed me, moaning something that I wasn’t able to understand. The force of his orgasm so strong that he crushed over me, his head resting on my chest. My hands came immediately to his hair, caressing his locks as we both found our breaths again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“I believe you are the perfect one here. Seriously, poetry, music and… this… is there anything you cannot do?”

I felt him lightly laugh against my skin.

“I’m not sure, I guess we have to practice thoroughly and make several tests to find out.”

“Well, I guess there’s no other choice then,” I replied faking a resigned tone. “I guess I shall help you out.”

“Please,” he laughed. “I have so many ideas on my mind, this week won’t be enough to test them all.”

His lips found mine, and we kissed again.

Again and again, all the way through the night.

---

Back to Chapter 13

[colombia-chan]

8 for Castiel because I think it could be HILARIOUS

Oh Honey... 

I wish.... I tried my best. As such based around Volume 2 MCL Manga events, but please enjoy! I did my best!! TwT yet I doubt I did that well...

Sharing a Bed While Camping Castiel x Evie

Prompt Number 8 “There’s only one bed.”

How? How Castiel had to wonder. How was it he always ended up in these situations? It was all the damn teacher's faults and whoever was supposed to be handling their gear fault that's for sure. But how was it he always ended up with the same angry pink eyes of one Lyndis glaring up at him with Lysander having to play referee for them, some times he had to wonder why he considered the pinked haired teen his friend especially with her questionable taste in men (IE her obvious attraction to Nathaniel)

“There’s only one bed.” 

“Technically it's a sleeping bag.”

“Lysander I will hurt you!”

“I’m just trying to clarify.”

“I’ve told you already there is no room.” Castiel has had to explain once again, he’s sure this is the 3rd time this day since they started setting up camp for this stupid trip already. 

“Give me your guitar Cas.”

“No! Why should I give you my guitar?”

“Because my cousin is sharing a tent with you and needs some room to set up a place to sleep in there with you, you dunce!” 

Castiel felt his eye twitch at this while it was true he had somehow gotten stuck having to share a tent with Evelynn better known as Evie, better known as Lyn’s cousin, and even better known to the duo he sadly called his best friends... his crush.

“For the-- We’ve already set up the tent just fine Lyn!”

When he had been setting up the tent they would be sharing earlier, due to their class having lost more than half their tents and gear and everyone having to share a tent. 

He and Evie had become the outliers when they were the only boy and girl to be randomly paired up for sharing a tent. Obviously, when this had occurred Lyn was far from just livid, though he knew it wasn’t anything fully against him... sorta. Hell, he was sure she’d have reacted the same to Nathaniel and Evie paired up or even Kentin just as badly. That was just Lyn’s usual overprotective nature with her cousin in general. Her tent mates jokes didn’t help.

“Oh~ Big bad wolf sharing a bed with little red riding hood, why does this sound like the plot to a good old--”

“Ms.Zelda!!” Bless that teacher he may have just snapped at the idiot as she snickered like a sly Cheshire cat.

The teacher Borris far from helped though when he tried to imply Lyn take Evie's place as Castiel’s tent partner if it were such an issue, Nathaniel was all but glaring at him for the damn teacher's joke. 

“Sir that will far from resolve the underlining issue.” Pfft, if anything that might have made it worse.

He was so close to trying to pick a fight with that guy, ever since the whole... Deborah incident, that guy has been really nagging on his nerves with how much closer he’d gotten to Evie, and all the damn jealous glares he’s been sending his way cause of his and Lyn’s very platonic, thank you very much, friendship. If the damn idiot had a problem with his and Lyn’s relationship then he should grow a pair and just ask her out already.

That was beside the point though, in short when he’d been setting up the space he had had Evie’s help. Awkward as that could have been with their still recovering relationship. When they found the lack of proper room for both their sleeping back, stuff, and his guitar. He had already begun to think about how he could convince Lysander or even Lyn to help him store his guitar somewhere safe. But then... Evie had suggested something. 

That very same thing being to combining the two sleeping bags together. Apparently, a trick Kentin had supposed showed her and the twins Armin and Alexy how to do when the two had been struggling to set up their own tent and sleeping space. That way the floor of the tent had more cushion, and Evie could just grab a spare blanket Lysanders crush, Asuka had brought along just in case. 

The idea was simple enough really, just make the bed bigger and use an actual blanket instead of the sleeping bag for cover, maybe even share the pillow if they really had to. Castiel could keep his guitar in the tent and close by, albeit he and Evie would more than likely be pushed close together, but honestly, he found no issue with it. He was more than happy to be allowed closer to her after everything his EX... and him... put her through.

“Look it’s the first night of this damn camping trip--”

“Thank you captain obvious--”

“Shut it or I will never help you with your dye job again Castiel!”

“Pfft shows what you know I can always just get Lys’s help here, isn’t that right bud?”

“Please... Please don’t extend this even farther, you two. It’s getting late and we have an early morning wake up schedule.” Lysander almost seem to groan, his face showing how tired he was as he struggled to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

“Lys--” Lyn began to try and say only to be silenced with a single wave of Lysanders hand.

“Castiel, is there enough room at least for Evie and you to both sleep in your tent?”

Castiel smirked, “A bit of a tight squeeze, but yes.” He wouldn’t dare try to rile Lyn up any more than she already had been his ‘tight squeeze’ comment was all that was needed to let Lyn know he and Evie would more than likely end up very close together as they slept.

“And if I recall correctly Evie was with Castiel setting up their tent were they not Lyn?” 

Lyn blushed as she tried to stutter out a retort, “ Well yeah, but you know how Evie can be--”

“Than we should trust that Castiel and Evie are both Mature and sensible enough to know what they were doing and let them and ourselves go to bed.” Lysander actually yawned, the day had been a long one and even Castiel himself now had to admit he was feeling the tiredness of the day hit him. 

“Damn it... I hate when you do that.” Lyn finally groaned before yawning even more loudly then Lysander had. “And now you have me yawning!”

Castiel had to cover his own mouth as he ended yawning as well, “Fuck, now I’m doing it.”

“Well, they are contagious.” A familiar light voice spoke up as Castiel, Lyn, and Lysander each turned to see Evie standing by them dressed for with her obnoxiously huge cat ear headsets around her neck blaring music, and a soft looking white blanket in her arms.

“Is that the blanket?” He asked holding his hand out to take the thing as Evie simply began to walk slightly past him.

“Yep, Asuka says it's fine if we keep it till the end of the trip if we decide to share the tent again tomorrow instead of playing leaf roulette on the pairing. It’s luckily not on the heavy side so it should keep us warm enough without overheating or killing us.” He had already started to follow her back to their tents without much a thought and a simple wave of goodbye/night to the others as he went. 

“Should be much a problem if we get to cold we could just share body heat.” He tried to tease as Evie began to blush as she sent him a sly smirk.

“Oh... Then are we to strip down if we were to get too hot.” He couldn’t help but smirk down at the much smaller girl as he took note of how light her night clothes were, tank top and pair of shorts. 

“Well... there not much you’d have to take off.” He decided to play along, watching as she stopped to turn her gaze at him in front of their tent. The lack of her once long hair most obvious at this notion but the blush and pout on her face all the worth it as she said.

“In your dreams.” Before ducking down to crawl her way into the tent with the flap closing behind her.

He could dream... but he could just enjoy what little he and she would be sharing in that one bed for tonight... or the rest of their camping trip.

[insideabunker]

The Games: Chapter 4

Despite Clarke's two prior trips to the winter games, the opening ceremony had lost none of its magic for her. The significance of it all still gave her first day of school butterflies, making her feel six years old again, awestruck and overwhelmed as she drifted through a sea of unfamiliar faces.  Red, white and blue-clad bodies shuffled past her, as the sprawling cluster of American athletes followed the Mongolian delegation through the tunnel leading onto the parade grounds of PyeongChang Olympic Stadium.  A colorful delegation of Bermudians trailed close behind them as they made their way into the open air of the parade grounds.

From its epicenter, the spectacle radiated with an intoxicating spirit that consumed the senses, filling Clarke with a nervous energy that eclipsed even the nastiness of the chilling wind that had picked up an hour earlier.  Exiting the darkened tunnel, she made her way into the multicolored splendor of the stadium; her thoughts immediately drowned out by the deafening roar of 35,000 cheering spectators.

It took a moment for her to process fully.  It seemed unbelievable that thousands of people had been willing to brave the sub-zero temperatures just to catch a glimpse of their Olympic champions, but as the enormity of that fact sank in, Clarke felt overwhelmed with a responsibility to them.  She forced herself to stare up into the stands, her face straining against the icy sting of the air as she smiled and waved towards the masses of fans.

"It feels like my eyeballs are going to explode," Raven growled through her forced smile.  "It's fricking cold!"

"Just keep smiling."  Clarke grinned at her assistant captain, her voice just as strained, as she flashed two rows of perfectly straight, snow white teeth.  "Millions of people are watching, Rae.  Don't spoil it for them."

"You can't be serious?"

"This has got to be a joke."

A chorus of complaints had erupted the second the Canadian athletes had learned their number in the ceremony's progression.

"We're sixty-ninth?"

"Oh g-d, as if these uniforms didn't make us look ridiculous enough."  Echo looked dour as she fiddled with her long red parka and knitted cap.

"I don't know," Lexa shrugged, forcing small talk to make nice with her captain.  "I mean the jackets aren't great, but some of the other stuff they gave us is ok."  She waited for Echo to respond but was met with steely silence.  "I mean, I like the flannels."

"Of course you do."

"What is that supposed to mean?"  Lexa tensed, wondering if she should be offended, and readying herself for an argument.

Echo only rolled her eyes, looking bothered.  "I didn't mean it that way," she spat. "I was referring to the fact that someone from the NWO would love that our uniform issue includes a Kenora Dinner Jacket."  She turned to Lexa, exasperated with the tall girl behind her.  "Obviously. I play women's ice hockey, Woods. You think I'm not used to teammates who enjoy the company of curvy, Swedish blondes with long legs?"

Echo shot her a knowing glance, noting the nervous, slightly guilty look on Lexa's face.  

"How do you know about that?"

"You're not exactly discrete. I saw you coming out of that Swede snowboarder's room this morning, half dressed."

Lexa swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing a subtle rosy color.  "Coach Freeman... You aren't going to?"

"Rat you out to her and get you kicked off the team?"  Echo dipped her head, cocking one eyebrow. "No, not for that. I may not like you, but you're hardly the first player on this team to dip their toes into international waters.  Besides, I have my own foreign diplomacy to conduct."  Echo shot a glance towards the crowd behind them, piquing Lexa's curiosity.

"What sport's she in, eh?"

Echo rolled her eyes.  "Woods, I'm not even a little bi-curious."  She stared far back in the procession.  "I've got my eyes on that scruffy, freestyle skier from France."

Lexa screwed up her face.  "Ugh... Typical Queeb, going for some priggish French ponce."

Echo shoved the girl behind her with an elbow.  "Toton."

"Beaver-beater."

"Lumberjack."

"Maudit sans-dessein."  Lexa fumbled through the only French Canadian swear she remembered from grammar school.

"It's pronounced dé-sa," Echo growled, drawing out the final A. G-d, your French is shit, Woods."

"I'm from northern Ontario!"

"T'es pas une lumiere!  Believe me, it's apparent."

In spite of their bickering, Lexa realized that the argument was probably the longest conversation they'd managed since she'd joined the team.  "Well, that's something," she thought to herself, thankful that they hadn't come to blows again.

Consumed as she was by their banter, Lexa lost her situational awareness, snapping out of it only when the world around her erupted into flashing lights and noise.  They'd finally reached the inside of the stadium. The freezing night air hit her in the face, and her breath caught.  Lexa's eyes strained against the bright lights and icy wind as she stared up at row after row of waving fans, and did her best to wave back.

The wind picked up again, making Lexa's eyes sting and tear. The goalie shielded her brow from the cold, wiping them with the back of a gloved hand and doing her best not to smear the makeup, applied for the sake of the cameras.  She checked the back of her mitten for smudges of mascara and, happy to find none, peered into the crowd in front of her.  For a split second, the column of bodies parted just enough for a small figure became visible up ahead.  Lexa caught a brief glimpse of golden hair and azure eyes before the crowd swelled again, and the American captain disappeared amidst a sea of taller, more substantial bodies.

"I think I saw the Team USA captain up ahead."  She turned to Echo, hoping to coax a little more conversation out of her.

"What, Clarke Griffin?  I would doubt it unless she's being carried on somebody's shoulders."

Lexa smirked.  "Yeah, she was pretty tiny in person."

"You've met?"

"Just the other night, in passing.  She seemed..."

"Like an irritating homunculus?"  Echo continued to scan the crowd for her Frenchman.  "That girl had been a pain in my ass for years."  She stared at Lexa for a moment, her expression concerned.  "You didn't notice if she was limping, did you?

"I don't think so." The question seemed odd, but Lexa thought it over, none the less. "I mean not that I could tell at least.  Why?"

Echo turned back towards the procession, her expression unreadable.  "We were playing an exposition game about a year and a half ago.  Griffin had been a menace all night, picking up the puck before I could get to it at the point and forcing it back into our zone. She's small, but she lighting fast."  She paused.  "Well, she was. Anyway..."

Something about the story made Lexa feel immediately uneasy.

"Third period, I finally caught her heading up the boards on a breakout.  I was going to try and pick her off, but she veered towards center ice at the last second.  My leg was out, and I ended up catching her at the knee."

"You went knee to knee?"

"I told you, she veered at the last second.  I was trying to play the body the best I could."  Echo bit her lip. "I might have let my leg drift out a bit far to try and knock her stick off the puck..."

She glanced at Lexa for a moment, her expression barely hiding the guilty conscience of someone who knew their actions had been less than defensible.

"But, I didn't intentionally cheap shot her."  She grimaced.  "Anyway, I felt her leg bend back in the wrong direction, and she flipped, ass over teakettle across my thigh.  The second she hit the ice I could tell it was bad.  I've never heard someone scream that hard."

Lexa's stomach sank just thinking about it. In hockey, a knee to knee collision often resulted in injuries of the most devastating kind.  That exact scenario had ended many a career before its time, and it made the goalie cringe thinking about the tiny blonde girl writhing in pain on the ice.

"MCL sprain?"

Echo shook her head.  "ACL. Grade three at that, a complete tear."

"Holy hell."

"Yeah, honestly I'm surprised to see her back on skates at all."

"So, that's why she looked so sluggish in the game footage we watched."

Echo nodded.  "To be sure.  I genuinely thought she'd retire after that.  I mean, she'd been playing for the national team since she was seventeen, so she was already getting up there."

They rounded the corner and slowed to an abrupt halt, nearly crashing into the Kenyan athletes ahead of them.

"That footage was from just after she was cleared to start training again.  I hear she's gotten some of her speed back since then, but if you ask me, she shouldn't even be playing."

Lexa's jaw tensed at the utterance, a conviction that her Québécoise teammate seemed to hold frequently.  "You seem to think that of a lot of people."

Echo sighed.  "I mean because of the risk of re-injury. Not everything is about you, Woods."

With that, Echo pushed forward, disappearing amongst the shuffling mass of red and black jackets.

The ceremony had ended in a spectacle of blaring music and bursting fireworks, that latter of which still rang in Clarke's ears as her feet pounded against the whirring belt of the treadmill. Hours after the lights had dimmed in Olympic stadium she was still wide awake, to filled with excitement, and too unaccustomed to the fifteen-hour time difference to sleep.  In her restlessness, Clarke turned to the one standby that faithfully calmed her down when pressure and anticipation turned her into a live wire of nervous energy.

She leaned forward into a sprint, increasing the incline on the Cybex another three degrees and watching as her numbers climbed.  Time: 48:36:23, Speed: 9, Incline: 10, Heart Rate: 184.  Perspiration poured from her brow, matting stray bits of flyaway hair to her forehead.  Clarke's burned, her legs ached, and her heart pounded in her chest as she continued to increase the incline.  Up, up, up until her hands flew to the bars to keep herself from flying backward off the machine.  Just as she felt her body about give out, she punched the large red button in the center of the display, cutting the power and hopping off in a flash, careful to land with her weight on her good knee.

Fighting the urge to double over and gasp for air, she threw her hands behind her head, lacing the fingers together and forcing herself to continue taking deep, measured breaths as she paced around the room.  Clarke closed her eyes and waited for her heart rate to slow, relishing the way her muscles ached and trembled with exhaustion. She wiped the sweat from her temples with the back of her hands realizing how utterly drenched she was.

After a week of buildup to the opening ceremony, fifty minutes of alone time had provided her with some much need respite from the hum of the crowds, the strings of interviews, and the exhaustion of the reassuring pep talks her more novice teammates had needed on a near constant basis.  Save for an unseen weightlifter banging heavy metal plates around in another corner of the complex; the nearly empty gym had provided the forward with a silent sanctuary from the turmoil of her otherwise overwhelming week.  For Clarke, there was nothing like a long, grueling run to clear her mind and ease her tension, and after an hour of beating herself down, she was finally feeling relaxed and ready to sleep. 

Not before a shower though, Clarke thought as the smell of her sweat drenching clothing suddenly filled her nostrils.  She peeled off her soaked Under Armour shirt and shivered as the chill of drafty gym air hit her flushed skin, giving her goosebumps.  Back inside the women's locker room, she made quick work of discarding her soggy PT gear in her sports duffle, sliding her feet into flip-flops as she wrapped herself in a towel and headed for the open shower bay.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the empty shower bay, covered from top to bottom in polished white tiles.  Despite a career of dressing and undressing in front of teammates, Clarke had never been entirely comfortable with public nudity, though it wasn't the sight of others naked that unsettled her so much as it was her insecurities about her own body.  A lifetime of struggling with her weight, first baby fat and then added curves, had made her shy to the point of timidity.  Unlike Raven, who was a walking human hanger and had posed naked for ESPN The Magazine's body issue, Clarke grappled with body confidence. She struggled to dress for the formal events the team attended, balking at the idea of being stuffed into a dress that accentuated her cleavage and hips. Unfailingly, the captain elected for more conservative numbers, downplaying her appearance as much as possible in the hopes that she could fly under the radar and not tempt the press into present her in an overly sexualized light.  The tactic had worked for the most part, though comments about her looks did surface, every now and again, internet trolls be damned.

Clarke turned on one of the shower heads lining the wall and let it run until the water turned warm.  She discarded her towel on a nearby hook, stepped into the stream and closing her eyes as the warm liquid poured over her aching muscles.  The blonde let it pound against her skin, relaxing her even further until finally, her exhaustion caught up with her.  She yawned, running a hand through her matted mane as she pulled out the elastic that had pinned it haphazardly to the top of her head. She let it cascade over her face and filled her hand with shampoo, massaging it into her scalp.

The sound of another shower head bursting to life nearby startled Clarke out of her euphoria. She pushed her soapy hair out of her face, freezing the second she saw who occupied the spot two places down. Lexa Woods stood less than ten feet from her, eyes closed, face turned up into the steady stream of water cascading over her body.  Clarke's eyes were fixed, unable to look away for the physical specimen beside of her.  Even in a parka and jeans Lexa cut an imposing figure, but bare to the world, the goalie was physically alarming.

She was tall to be sure, 5'11 if she was an inch, but what was more startling was the sheer amount of muscle that hung on her frame.  Every inch of her was ropey sinewed flesh that, somewhat surprisingly, held a subtle softness to it.  Clarke watched as beads of liquid slide down Lexa's olive-skin, slipping over her curves and pooling at every angle on her frame. The water clung to the tawny girl like it was heartbroken at the thought of having to drip off of her.

Clarke ignored the way her pulse quickened, and her breathing slowed, too captivated by the way the impressive musculature moved, stirring underneath a visage adorned with intricate tattoos that shifted as though they were alive.  A combination of body writing and black and red abstracts covered half her back, running over her shoulder and snaking down the full length of her left arm. The outside of her right thigh was similarly ornamented.  The edges of the artwork wound up her hip and caressed her waist before ending just above her perfectly toned backside, which Clarke realize she was gawking at a moment too late.

"What the fuck?!"

Clarke jumped, so alarmed by the green eyes staring her down that she couldn't reply. 

"Were you just staring at my ass?"

"What? No! I mean, yes but..."

"Yes, or no?"

"I was staring at your tattoos."

"The one right over my ass?"

"I wasn't staring at your ass!"

Lexa turned to face the smaller woman, her figure even more flawless from the front.  Small but firm breasts sat high on her chest, perfect and round, and the lines on her tight stomach were sculpted into a frustratingly well-defined six-pack.

"You get a good look?"

"I wasn't staring." Clarke felt herself blushing as she turned back into the jet of water pouring over her, and rushed to work the remaining shampoo out of her hair.

Lexa leaned into the tiles, propping herself up on a tattooed forearm.  She pushed the brown hair out of her eyes and slicked water from her face.

"You're full of crap, Griffin. Admit it; you were staring at me."

"I wasn't staring!" Clarke venture a quick glance at the goalie, too embarrassed to look for more than a moment.  "I wouldn't ogle someone in a public shower. That kind of behavior is abdominal."

Lexa smirked at the Freudian slip, cocking an eyebrow smugly.

"Abominable. Shit!"  Clarke screwed her eyes shut, sure that her face was now bright red.  "Besides why would I be staring at you."

"For the same reasons lots of girls do," Lexa wiggled her eyebrows, turning back to the water as she lathered herself with soap.  "You think you're the first person to stare at me in a shower?"

Clarke growled as she rinsed the last of the soap from her face.  "G-d, you're so completely egotistical!"  She shut off the water, wrapping herself in her towel as she retreated from the shower bay.

Lexa rinsed off quickly, grabbing her towel as she followed Clarke toward the lockers.

"And you're a hypocrite! You tear into me with some big feminist speech when I try to pay you a compliment, but when I catch you creeping on me, you act all innocent.  What garbage!"

"I wasn't staring at you!"

In the middle of the argument, Clarke became aware of how exposed they still were. Her towel clung to her precariously, barely covering her unmentionables, while Lexa's dangled from her hand, unused. She realized she was staring at Lexa's abs again and clenched her teeth, sure that that fact hadn't escaped the brunette's attention.

"Would you put on some clothes, please."

Lexa leaned forward, grinning conceitedly. "You sure that's what you want?"

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to look the girl hovering over her in the eyes. "I'm not interested, Woods."

“In anything other than my ass, you mean?

"I was... I'm not... Your Tat... Ugh!"  Clarke grabbed her sports duffle, clinging to the last shred of her dignity as she forwent undergarments and scrambled to pull on her team sweats as quickly as humanly possible.  She yanked her socks halfway up, making a slapdash effort to shove her feet into her Adidas.

"I'm not having this argument with you, Woods!  I have bed checks to do."

"Sounds good. Mine is in room 704B."

Lexa heard the exasperated groan all the way down the hall as Clarke stomped out of the room, failing to notice that her sneakers were on the wrong feet.

Next Chapter ->

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[breeja-mae]

The Slap

So I wrote this forever ago and though I would post it here. This is from the MCL episode that we need to bribe Amber to sleepover to better investigate Nath’s home situation. I don’t know about any of you, but I thought that was super weird and a little unrealistic so I re-wrote our Candy’s discovery scene. Was working on some first person for a class which is not my usual style but hope you guys like it anyway. Feed back encouraged and welcomed :)

TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, similar to what occurred in the actual episode.

I was about to cross the threshold back into the March chill when I realized I left my AP Chemistry folder in Nate’s room. My homework for tomorrow was in it so I figured I should probably grab it before heading out. While Nathaniel would most definitely remember to bring it tomorrow if I texted him, I would feel better about life if I got it now. I closed the door and turned, taking one step towards the ornate staircase in the decorated foyer when the unmistakable crack of skin on skin froze me in my tracks.

“Explain yourself.” Nate’s dad. His voice held this low, deadly tone. “It was a hard exam,” he stammered. “I was above the mean, I swear.” Another crack. I heard Nate whimper. Was this about the physics exam? The mean was a 75. Nate had the high grade with an 87. He even beat me and I had been pretty pleased with my 84. “But you still only achieved an 87. That is unacceptable.” Dear god, this was about the physics exam. Nate earned two slaps across the face because he didn’t get an A? No one ever gets an A on that exam! I wanted to vomit when I thought back on the time I accidentally walked in on him in the locker room. We had gotten back a pretty difficult AP Calc exam that no one did particularly well on, Nate included, the day before. The mottled blue and purple bruises and the pained movements of putting a t-shirt on were still seared into my mind. What had his father done to him? “It was the high grade! You can e-mail my teacher and ask—” Another crack. At this point I wasn’t sure if I should do something or quietly slip upstairs, grab my folder and bolt out the door to my car. “I will not tolerate excuses from you, Nathaniel. I raised you to be better than an 87. Now go upstairs and study the material so you won’t do so poorly next time.” The floor creaked as his father walked back towards the kitchen. I really needed to move. But I was frozen in place. I could hear Nate’s footsteps shuffling towards me but I couldn’t bring myself to run up the stairs and pretend I had been in his room the whole time searching for my forgotten folder. Remaining glued to the oriental rug, I could only watch as a swollen, red cheeked Nathaniel entered the foyer and stopped dead once he registered my presence. “I forgot my folder.” The intonation was wrong and choppy. I brought my index finger to my mouth and chewed the nail as Nathaniel continued to stare at me wide eyed, though the one seemed to be a bit swollen. “I’ll, um, I’ll just grab that and head out…” I finally found my feet and slowly walked to the stairs, up to Nate’s room. I heard him scuffling behind me, seemingly over the initial shock of seeing me. Once in his room, I dumped my bag on his blue bedspread like I had when I arrived a few hours before to work on our project. I walked over to his desk, put my hand on the blue folder and stopped for a second. The initial plan was to get the folder and leave, spare Nate the embarrassment of talking with me about what had just occurred. That would be an emotionally charged conversation and I was the last person on earth anyone would want to come to for that sort of interaction. Awkward and inability to empathize was my middle name. And yet… “I heard your dad hit you. Multiple times.” I turned, deciding I didn’t care that conversation would most likely be the most painful thing I’ve ever done. Child abuse was under the list of things I couldn’t accept. “I can see it too. Your cheek is swollen.” Should I have started out with a lead in? Lysander always says I’m too blunt about things. “Forget it, Breeja.” He lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose but stopped short. Scrunching his tender cheek caused him to inhale in pain. “Nate, you are in physical pain because your father hit you. I can’t just pretend I didn’t hear that.” “I should have done better on that exam.” “What?” “It’s my own fault.” He crossed his arms and looked away. Apparently his alarm clock held the secrets of the world in the glowing analog numbers. “What the hell!? That’s not your fault!” I cringed at my outburst. Shouting was not what he needed right now. “Sorry, I’m not good at this. Attempt 2. Nate, that’s not your fault. You did very well. I had second high grade and I only got an 84.” “If I had done well, my dad wouldn’t have—” He stopped short. “Say it.” He had to say it. Out loud. “Breeja, you need to leave.” “Not until you say it.” I crossed my arms. “Say what?” “Say it to me out loud.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He still wouldn’t look at me. “You do. Don’t lie to me.” There was silence for several minutes. Nate drew in a breath. “If I had done well my dad wouldn’t have hit me.” It was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it. “Does he only hit you?” “No.” “So your back? Your arms? That day in the locker room?” I probably didn’t want to hear the answer to this. But damn it, Nate needed to say this so I was going to listen. “He pushed me down the stairs.” He turned away from me all together as I inhaled. Definitely didn’t want to know that. “Nate…” I took a few steps towards him and wrapped my arms around his middle, burying my face between his shoulders much the same as I had done to Castiel a few months back. “He has no right to do this to you.” “I j-just need to do better is all. S-study m-more.” His whole frame was shaking. I couldn’t tell whether he was trying not to cry or just overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. I pulled back, appalled by what I heard. “Look at me.” He reluctantly turned, my hands skimming over the cotton of his t-shirt as he did. “No, you do not to do better. No, you do not need to study more. No, it is not okay that he hits you and no, it is not okay that you think it’s deserved. No one deserves to be abused by someone that should protect them.” I locked my mismatched eyes with his golden ones. They looked so old, so tired, so over it all. “I…he…” Nathaniel never finished his sentence. He suddenly pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head on top of mine. After I got over the initial shock of Nathaniel voluntarily hugging me, I moved my hands from his side to wrap him securely around the waist, hoping I wasn’t being as awkward as I felt. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest, inhaling fresh laundry and new paper; definitely a Nathaniel smell. The creaking of stairs pulled us apart. “You should probably go. You heard my dad, I need to study.” He crossed the room and sat at his desk chair, staring blankly at the backpack next to him. I shouldered my bag and walked to him, placing a hand under his chin. “You have my number. If you don’t feel safe, please, please call me. I’ll come get you.” I gently traced my cold fingers over his inflamed cheek. How were we here? Only yesterday I would have said Nathaniel and I were maybe friends and now I was tracing my fingers over his hot cheek, offering to pick him up whenever he needed me to. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze offering me a small smile. I smiled back. As soon as I was in the hallway, the smile dropped from my face and walked on autopilot to my car. His dad beats him. I opened the door. Dear god, he got pushed down the stairs for getting a B on one calc exam. I jammed the keys into the ignition and twisted. What else does his dad do to him? I rested my head on the steering wheel, not hearing the rock music blasting through the speakers. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

[bunnylikerabbit]

The Final Warning pt.4

MCL boys & reader (only boys pov)

Gender: Horror, a bit of supernatural, kind of Until Dawn AU

Warning: swearing, blood, death, gore

Summary: What was they supposed to do when they accidentally killed there childhood friend ? They were terrified and panicked but maybe they didn’t took the good decision… Now there trapped in their worst nightmare…

Lenght: 4k

A/N: Hi there ! Sorry I’m late but I decided to add Ken’s part at the last moment so it took me a bit longer ! Sorry sorry ! Hope you’ll still like it and thank you so much for reading my fanfic ♥♥ ILY guys ♥♥

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Castiel pov

Insane. It was insane. All of this was. How could a man kill deer ? There was something off with this story. No one could have done something like that, even the strongest man. Maybe Nathaniel mistook because of the shock. It could be possible, it might be less than he thought. But still, even if it was that impressive, there was seven dead deer, murdered. I couldn't ignore what he said. Even if it was hardly belivable, I don't know why he would have lied.

I rushed out of the room without even paying attention if they would have follow me. If there was a thing I agreed with Nathaniel was that we had to go as soon as possible. I went in my room to unpacked my things as quickly as I could.

"Go get your things Armin." I said when I noticed his small silhouette by the door.

He disapeard in a blink of an eye. Soon after, I was ready to leave this damn place. I went downstairs where the others were, Kentin standing with his bag already on his back and Lukas and Lysander sitting on the couch. Kentin looked at me with a glimpse of hope, probably glad to leave this place.

"We're leaving. Now." I said, taking Lukas's and Lysander's bags to give them to them.

They both looked at me with those glassy eyes but I didn't pay attention to it, I turn to the stairs to see Armin rushing down, closely followed by Nath and Alex. We all had our things, now it was time to leave. I took the key car on the kitchen's counter and handed it to Nathaniel.

"But wait, wait." Kentin said, stopping in his track toward the door. "What about Louis ? We can't let him out there."

"Don't worry 'bout him, he leaves here 24/7. It's not a pinch of drakness that will frighten him." Nathaniel answered him.

"Alex said he was kinda abducted." Armin lowly added.

"He got a gun, he's gonna be ok. Now let's get going."

Nathaniel open the door and everyone rushed outside but the second we all passed the door, a strong light and a deafning sound caught us by surprise, making us almost fall to the ground. An explosion. It was the sound of an explosion, the blow, the heat, the light, the boom. It was a fucking explosion. When I open my eyes, I felt like a stone crashed on my shoulder, breaking all my hopes. The car was on fire. It litteraly exploded just before us. We just stared at the car unable to utter a single word.

"What..." Nathaniel breathed out, shocked. "How...?"

I stared at the flames, my body shaking by the rage that was taking over me and without even noticing it, I was screaming. "FUCK !!"

"What are we gonna do now ?" Kentin asked, panicked.

"L- Let's go back inside... W- We'll find another way." Nathaniel stuttered as he headed back inside the cottage.

Everyone followed him but I stayed still in front of the car, eyebrows locked together in a deep frown. I was boiling. Who ever did that, I swear the god they're gonna regret it. I'm gonna make them pay for that. Maybe I was overreacting, it was just a car, but at this exact moment, I felt like someone tried to make a bad joke on us and it was frustrating to not be able to do anything.

"Castiel... Let's go inside." I heard Armin said, catching my arm to drag me inside, but I didn't moved an inch.

He stared at me, utterly worry to see me as tensed, but I didn't care, I just turn away and burst into the chalet. I climb the stairs without paying attention to all the interrogative stares and questions to me, I just made my way upstairs. I than stop in the middle of the corridor, looked up to see a little knob on the roof. I pull it and a foldable ladder fall down. I quickly climb it and I walk toward the stuffed desk and sat on the chair.

"Castiel, what are you doing ?" Armin asked out of breath.

"Calling someone." I said as I turned on the big radio transmitter before me.

I turned some wheel as the crackling sound filled the room. I took the mike and put it in front of my mouth, hoping to hear a voice at the other end of the radio but nothing.

"Did somebody hear me ?" I talked to the mike. "This is Castiel, me and six other people are stuck in Nathaniel's cottage. I repeat, we have no way to go home, did someone hear me ?" I wait but no answer. "Our car is dead, I think this is not an accident, our car explode before our eyes, we are not alone."

I continued to turn the wheel and speaking when I heard something. I almost jumped of my chair and both Armin and I quickly lean closer to try to understand what the voice was saying but the crackling was to loud to hear a distinct word. I push the button of the mike to speak again.

"I can't here you clearly, please, come to get us, we are not alone. I repeat, we. are. not. alone."

The voice tried to make its way to us, but the crackling was still too noisy. I bet heard the word 'morning' and 'car' but I'm not sure. Still, if they meant they want to get us tomorrow morning, we'll have a problem.

"We can't wait 'til tomorrow ! You have to get us now !"

Even if they didn't said that, it was still good to say. I don't know why I felt the urge to get out of this place, this atmosphere was suffocating. The last word I bet heard before the line went off was 'wait' and it made me slap me hand on the desk. We didn't had the time to wait ! Was it so complicate to take a car, drive here, take us and go back to civilisation ? I let myself fall back against the seat back and I sight loudly, letting the soft continuous crackling filling the silence of the attic. Armin had his eyes glued to the ground, nervously playing with his finger. I stared at him for a second, but some jolt in the radio's crackling bring my attention. I first thought it was nothing, but a detail made me think that, maybe it wasn't just that. I bet heard something humming. A pitched sound, like a female voice. It was very low so I lean forward to hear it better. It was clearer and clearer and it was definitly a woman's voice.

"-ember... -one... Do you... -ember... -at you... -one..." I frowned at the voice, not sure what it was saying, but it seem to repeat something over and over again, until the entire sentence was clear enough to understand. "Do you remember what you've done ?" Than a loud bang ring and the radio went off.

Armin and I looked at each other, utterly confused. I tried to turn on the radio again, but there was nothing to do.

"It's dead." I said defeated.

"What was that ?"

"I don't know... Maybe someone making a cruel joke on us." I took a glance at a nervous Armin before getting up and headed to the ladder.

"It sounds like her voice..." He bearly uttered.

I stopped in my track. "It's not." And than I get out of the attic.

It was. It clearly was and I knew it. But I wanted to believe it was not. It couldn't be possible. Maybe someone recorded her voice and put it in the radio God knows how. We did a lot of video recording when we were together, it was probably that. What else ?

Nathaniel pov

"Breath in..." I said, taking a deep breath. "Breath out..." I blow all the air in my lungs.

I stare at Alexy just before me doing as I told, slowly recovering some colors. It was good to see, he will soon be able to talk and even react again.

"How do you feel ?" I asked him, hoping to have an answer, but the look he gave me was enough.

He wasn't ready yet, he was still in shock. I patted his head and get up, taking a glance at the second floor. I know what Castiel was doing, it was the best to do right now. Without a car, it's almost impossible to make it through the woods. It would take ages to reach the main road, and still, even if we made through it, in the total darkness, there's absolutly no soul passing by this road. We just have to wait for backups, nothing else. And there's probably someone or... Something in the woods. Something really dangerous. Strong enough to kill seven deer, smart enough to destroy a car. Cause hell, this wasn't an accident. Cars don't explode just like that, someone did it. I looked at my friends, Lysander and Lukas sat lazyly on the couch and Kentin and Alexy now in the kitchen, the last one drinking the glass of water the younger seems to have gave him.

I sight, feeling utterly tired and desperate. I hoped some good news would come when I saw Castiel walk down the stairs, but his entire self told me there were none.

"So ?" I asked Castiel when he joined us in the living room.

"The radio is dead." He said. "Guess someone heard us but they seem decided to wait until tomorrow."

"What if we can't wait till tomorrow ?" Kentin said, taking few steps toward us.

"We have no choice."

"Than let's wait." I said, looking at everyone.

I frowned when I saw Armin. His face was livid with a worried gaze fixed to the ground, his hands shacking violently. I saw him took quick glance at Castiel, as if he wanted to tell him something. I wonder what.

"I don't want to wait ! I want to leave, now !" Kentin protested.

"How ?" Castiel spat, clearly annoyed. "Should I remind you that our car exploded ?"

"Than we'll walk !" The younger slaped his fist against the kitchen counter, a deep frown on his face

"The road is several miles away from here, it would take at least an hour if not even more and by night it would be insanity to go in the woods." I said, staring at Kentin.

I knew he was afraid, we all were, but we didn't have the choice. We were stuck here and walk in the woods to reach the road was insane. We would never get through it and even less with Alexy in this state.

"What should we do than ?" Lysander's voice raised and I looked at him.

"Wait and get some rest. The police will come back tomorrow, they'll bring us home." I tried my best to be rassuring, there were no point at frightening them even more. "Come on it's not the first time we sleep here all alone huh ?"

"But it's the first time someone destroy our car." Castiel said, not really convinced.

"We don't know if it's a someone, it might be an accident, I was suppose to do a checkup because of a problem with the engine." I saw Castiel stare at me skeptical but I just shoot him a glare telling him to keep his mouth shut and, fortunatly, he didn't say anything else.

Panic leads to stupid acts and stupid acts lead to even more danger so it was useless to do such frightening speculations. I was aware that the problem I had with my car wasn't enough to make it expose like that, but if it could ease some minds, than it will be a mecanical problem and nothing else. For our safety, it was better to stay inside and lock every issues so this psycho outside will not come in.

"Ok than. Let's wait." Castiel finally spoke, taking a seat beside Lysander.

I sighed and I went to lock the front door and the back door in the kitchen, as well as the huge bay window in the second living room. We better be cautious. Who knows who's this mad man outside. Or what is it. I stared for a wile through the window. Where the hell was Louis ?

"Armin, go get Alexy to bed and get some rest too, it's useless to stay up now." I said while I walked toward the boys.

Armin looked at me but lowered his gaze before nodding shyly. I shoot him a rassuring smile as I stare at him dragging Alexy upstairs. They both looked terrible, they needed some rest, especially Alexy. I came near the couch and I laid a hand on Lukas's shoulder.

"You should too." I said, looking uturlly concern.

It should be hard for him to be here. Candy was his girlfriend. I don't even know why he insisted to come back. His face was so cold, so lifeless.  

"I'm fine." He spoke blankly.

It was definitly not a good idea to come back here. Firstly because of this thing outside, secondly because of what happenned. We shouldn't have came back. It would have been so much better if we never have came back ever again. All this felt like a trick. A huge trap to get us all here. A very successful trap.

"You should Lukas." Castiel said, trying to convince him but the way Lukas slowly turns his head to him, with this sharp gaze, gave me chills.

"I said, I'm fine." He said in between his tightly clenched jaw.

"If you say so." Castiel shrugged.

I let my hand fall from Lukas's shoulder and I start wandering in the house. Not knowing what to do to kill time. Too nervous to have a sleep, too worried to leave the door out of sight, too concerned to leave the boys alone. I stared at the front door, hoping to hear Louis's voice screaming behind, his loud knock filling the entire house, saying everything was OK, saying there was nothing in the woods, saying we were safe. But it didn't happen.

I heard Kentin grumble and angrily letting his back fall from his shoulder. He shoot me an upset glance and stormed into the bedroom we liked to call our little sanctuary. It used to be Alex and Armin’s siblings' bedroom since their the youngest but they hated being downstairs so we change the room in a huge cinema room with fluffy pillows and blankets all over the ground and a huge TV with tons of dvds. It was Candy's idea. Alex's sibilings just slept upstairs in their brother's room while Alexy just slept in random rooms when he didn't wanted to stay with them. Mostly in Lukas's actually but he wasn't the only one who wanted to sleep in this room so after getting kicked out, he usually ended up in Kentin's or Armin's. It was the good old time, when we were still young and innocent. After Candy came back from USA. Where everything was finally good.

I heard Lysander and Castiel low chatting but I didn't understand. I wasn't listening at all, too focus on whatever was outside. I didn't even see the both of them heading toward me. But the second they reach the door, I shoot them a deadly glare.

"What are you doing ?" I spat, my voice coming out harsher than i thought.

"Just taking a breath." Castiel said, staring at me half confused.

"Open the window then."

"It's ok, we'll just be here and we'll let the door open." Lysander spoke this time.

"I said, the window." I commended harshly.

No one outside. We didn't know who was there with us, we didn't know where was Louis or what happenned to him. That was too dangerous. What if they just vanished in the dark without a single sound. What if the thing sneaked in the house while they're outside ? I shoot them an other deadly glare and Castiel raise his hands up, defeated. I groaned lowly before walking to the living room. I sat beside Lukas, whom didn't moved an inch, on the couch.

"This is insane." I muttered, a hand massaging my forehead slowly.

How could something like this happenned ? Was it a joke ? Did the deer were real ? Were everything was real ? Did Louis really disapeard or is it just a bad joke from him and mom ? It didn't feel true. Nothing felt real. What was we afraid of ? A hunter ? Hunting our deer in a natural reserve ? A crazy hunter who liked ripping animals' faces appart ? Ok, that was scary. But I still wonder what happenned to Louis. He wouldn't leave us like that, without saying a single word.

Ding!

My phone's ring dragged me out of my thoughts. I instinctively get it out of my pocket and frown. A message ? But there's no signal here, like, not in any part of the woods. Not even Internet. It was Kentin’s mother idea, she proposed to make this place somewhere where we could reconnect to each other, talk and play without any phoned or something. No social media, no work. Well we quickly found a solution by bringing tons of dvds and video games. Anyway, receiving a message was strange, but what was stranger was the sender. Candy. After her death, we left her phone in the cottage, as if she forgot it. Now the police had it so no one would have used it. Even for a joke.

I took a glance at Lukas, his head was lying on his hand, he looked absolutely done. I wouldn't be surprise if he ends up falling asleep. Well at least he wouldn't see it. Not sure how he would react at this. I open the message and what was writien made my heart races.

Bad kids should be punished.

Kentin pov

I was boiling. Why the hell couldn't we leave this place ? Why did the car have to burn ? Just, how ? Was it a trick to scare us ? I was leaning against the kitchen counter, stunned by Nathaniel's attitude. Why was he actting like everything was ok ? Nothing was ok. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, nothing was ok and he knew it. I wanted to shout, to scream at him to make him react, to alarm him. We had to leave. He said it himself, so why did he want to wait now ?

"Wait, wait... Yeah so we can be killed one by one just like Louis..." I mumbled angrily as I let my bag fall from my shoulder.

I catched Nathaniel's eyes but all I could do was shooting a deadly glare at his worried expression before leaving the room, taking shelter in our sanctuary. The door slaped and I just crashed on the pillow floor, sighing angrily as I rubbed my brown hair.

What a great idea ! Let's wait until the deer killer come and get us all. The car surely didn't exploded by itself and the deer... Well, how ever they had been killed, it's certainly not in a very natural way. There was something off with all of this that makes me feel like we weren't totally safe around here. And this feeling in the woods. What was that ? Boo looked so scared. I, myself, was scared to death. This feeling deep inside my guts, this feeling of danger, this scent of death. No, it was unbelievable. It couldn't be true. It shouldn't be true. Whatever was this feeling, it was just my imagination. Boo might have seen a wolf or something like that and get scared, this dog is scared of everything anyway.

I lean deeper in the mattress and start to look at the dark of the night, the slight moonlight piercing through the trees to crash in the room, giving just enough light to see the wild shadows of the leaves dancing on the walls. The scene was so peacful right now, I wanted this to last forever.

"You can't come here everytime Alexy invade your room you know ?"

I opened my eyes and stared at the smily silouette by the door. "Why not ?"

Candy came closer and she laid beside me, joining her hands under her head and closing her eyes.

"Because someone else might want to crash here to find some peace." She smiled, staring right inside my eyes.

"Then maybe we can find this peace together." I smiled back.

"Only if we watch Fight Club !"

"Ash again ? Don't you ever get tired of this movie ?"

"Never ever. It's the best movie in the world." She slaped my arm as she sat up.

"I don't want to watch it, I want silence." I said teasingly, putting a finger on my mouth.

"You're boooring !" She laid down again and rolled on her side to face me. "What were you thinking about ?"

I stared at the ceiling before turning my head to look at her. "Nothing and everything."

She paused. She seemed thougthfull, as if something was bothering her in the back of her mind. I just stared at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking, waiting for her to speak again.

"Aren't you nervous ?" She finally spoke.

"About what ?" I said a bit confused.

"About... That."

"That ? Candy this isn't a big deal." I chuckled, turning back to the ceiling.

"It is ! What if I fail ? What if you fail ? What if we both fail ?"

"Me ? I never fail. And you won't fail neighter, you're a freaking smart ass, how would you ?"

"That's not what Lysander used to say." She pouted.

"Lysander ? He was a stupid kid trying to act smart." I chuckled teasingly.

"You're dumb." She giggled, slapping my arm again.

"You'll not fail, if you fail then shame on you !"

"Stop this you dumbass kid !" She laughed lightly, hitting me playfully.

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling utterly tired. I looked around but no trace of Candy. A dream. I sat up and rubbed my sleepy eyes. I wonder how long I slept. I looked at my phone to see what time it was. 10 pm. Well, it was a very tiny nap. Wish I slept more, at least time would have passed quicker. I streched a little before getting up. I was wonder either getting out of here to see the others or just stay here and watch a movie, or play a video game. It would past time and I wouldn't think to much of what happened.

I was ready to get out to ask who wanted to watch a movie, but the TV turned on by it self, making me jump. I stared at it, dumbfounded. It was a snow screen but there was something run behind, as if it was a very old censored channel. I took a better look, trying to figure out the sound and images the TV was showing and bet have reconized the movie for seeing it thousands of times. Fight Club. I took a glance at the dvd lector but it was turned off. Ok, that was strange. I took few steps towards the TV and as soon as I approche it, a loud sound filled the room, a loud bip as if the TV lost the signal.

I covered my ears, surprised by such a noise and when I looked up at the now black screen, I saw something flickering in it. I narrow my eyes to see what was it and then, everything stopped. The noise and the flickering and I could clearly see what was written now.

It's all your fault.

[tetrakys]

My rewrite of MCL UL first dates - Castiel

I liked the Episode10, I just think the writing could have dared more. Here’s my take on Castiel’s date.

I was finishing my shower when I heard someone knocking on my dorm’s door.

“Yeleen? Come in!” I wrapped a towel around me before going into the room. “Why did you…”

It wasn’t Yeleen.

I pulled my towel tight around me, making sure nothing was showing and let him in.

“What are you doing here, Castiel? Weren’t we supposed to meet at the Snake Room?!”

“Y-yes, but, do you mind getting dressed first? It’s kind of flustering to have a conversation like this.”

He tried to laugh it off, but couldn’t hide the heath in his eyes while he tried and failed not to stare at me from head to toe. Was he really a little flustered? The big bad wolf. The famous rocker, man of the world.

“My my… did you change your mind about that shower?”  I came a step closer grabbing the end of his tie nonchalantly “you are a little overdressed though.”

He looked me straight in the eye with a barely contained mischievous smirk at the corner of his lips and I realised… he was baiting me! He really was the big bad wolf! Damn… was I ever going to play on an even field with this guy?! Backing off before giving him a chance to call my bluff, pointing at the wardrobe behind him, I said “Just teasing” voice shaking just a little while avoiding his hot stare “move so I can grab some clothes.”

Instead of moving he rummaged through my closet for a few seconds and then handed me some clothes wadded up in a ball.

“I have always found your innocence so endearing, particularly when you try to act out all grown up.” He was openly grinning now, the asshole! “Get dressed, we’ll worry about that afterwards.”

I grabbed the clothes with one hand and locked myself securely up in the bathroom. Geez…

I straightened the clothes he had handed me and realised what he had picked. It was a little black dress he knew very well, he had given it to me as a gift for my birthday a few weeks before our break up. I had never had a chance to wear it while we were together and never had it in me to do it afterwards. I put it at the back of my closet and left it there for years but, for some reasons, I took it with me when I moved back in town. The subconscious can really work in funny and not-so-mysterious ways sometimes.

I put the dress on and realised right away that there were two big problems. First, my body had definitely changed in the past four years. Now I had boobs, and hips. The dress was very tight around my chest, making breathing a little more difficult than what it’s supposed to be, and short on my legs, reaching mid-thigh. This may have not been a great inconvenience if it wasn’t for the second problem: the bastard didn’t give me any underwear! I looked myself in the mirror and briefly considered asking him to get me something else to wear. Hell no, no tapping out. Endearing innocence my ass.

I quickly put on some make-up, just mascara and eyeliner, left my long hair still a little dump hanging on my shoulders, and stepped out of the bathroom barefooted. He was looking out of the window and turned around when he heard the door opening. If I didn’t know him as well as I did I would have been a little disappointed because, as he started at me, he looked completely relaxed if not slightly bored. But I knew better, he had some tell-tale signs he wasn’t completely aware of that had been quite revealing in the past. When he was nervous he tightened his fists. When he was sheepish (crazy I know, but sometimes it did happen) he swallowed. When he was aroused he became very stiff, everywhere.

Right now? He was doing all of it.

“I though I was going to fall asleep”

I just looked at him without replying, sitting down on the bed, and his eyes didn’t miss how my skirt rose a few extra inches along my thighs. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“There was no way around it… There’s a huge crowd in town. It looks like there’s some kind of festival organised in the park. I’d barely left my apartment when a bunch of girls rushed up to me in the street. I tried to get to the Snake Room but I got followed.”

“You got rushed by groupies? High school girls, I assume.”

“At first yes, except the swarm kept getting bigger. They were asking for selfies every which way. I hurried towards the bar, but a lot of them kept following me. So I came here, thinking they’d give up at the campus entrance, but…”

“They followed you all the way here?”

He didn’t reply.

“They followed you all the way here!”

“Still, I managed to get into the dorm alone, but the rumour must have spread.”

I picked the key on my desk and hurried to lock the door.

“… I guess it’s not the night-out you were expecting.”

I could tell he was feeling guilty but, to be honest, I was happy to be with him no matter where we were.

“I’m sure we can have a nice time here. I can put on some music and we can chat. Well… I don’t have anything to drink, but other than that, it’ll be just like the Snake Room!”

“Hmm, I’d like to see that” he said with his typical lopsided grin.

I switched on the music on my laptop. Some nice background music, kind of rock, obviously. Then, I turned on the string of lights hanging over my desk. “So, impressed?” I asked sitting back on the bed.

“Very” he laughed.

“Still, is it always like this? As soon as you leave home?”

“No, we released a new videoclip… and it has done really, really well online.”

“Oh really?” I picked up my phone “Show me.”

“Are you interested?” he asked surprised.

“Of course.” He searched online and clicked on the video before handing my phone back to me.

The videoclip started up.. The music started with bass sounds, and all of a sudden the drums joined accompanied by the guitar. It was powerful, it almost sounded like heavy metal. Much gloomier than what they’d done up until now. The first person that appeared in the video was Castiel. He was at the wheel of a black car and tearing through the forest at top speed. I recognised him, without recognising him… even though he was barely wearing make-up but… He got out of the car, dressed all in black, low-cut jeans and a black tank top. As he moved to close the car door, you got a glimpse of his hip bone and V-line abs. He was… incredibly charismatic and sexy. As I watched the video, he got up and leaned against my desk, watching my reaction. His voice rose in the music, powerful and soft at the same time… In the video you saw him go into a huge castle and hurtle down the stairs four steps at a time before joining a young woman in a bedroom. She was just wearing a see-through, navy blue negligée. He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck forcefully, and she abandoned herself totally in his arms. Close-ups of certain parts of the two actors’ bodies were the only things the viewer could see… I felt bile rising up my throat and didn’t even dare glance over at Castiel. God, I was jealous. The video ended focused on her, totally nude on him, blindfolded. She hold a vial of poison between her teeth and pretended to kiss him so she could pour it into his mouth. Castiel pushed her away, she got up and run off, letting him strangle alone in the bedroom. The other musicians weren’t in the video, just him. And the directing was incredible. It seemed like a short film.

“So there…” he said maybe a little embarrassed. I laid my phone down.

“Wow, that was… I understand the infatuation better now. The video’s awesome.”

“Thanks.”

“Up until now your face wasn’t in the videos. But you’re a really good actor.” Too good.

“They convinced me to do it, telling me it’d be successful if I put myself in the spotlight. I wasn’t really convinced but… I was the only one against the decision. So I gave in.”

We heard giggling. I got the impression they were sitting right outside the door in the hallway.

“Looks like they were right” I said smiling.

When he told me he had put it online just early that afternoon I almost couldn’t believe it. There were already 400,000 views and thousands of comments. I scrolled through the comments, they were all about Castiel. Mostly stupid thigs like “Marry me” or “To think that this guy goes to MY school!” I saw a link about a fan page asserting they had all the info about Castiel and clicked on it out of curiosity. “Castiel…geez… look!”

The latest post online was a picture of my dorm room door, indicating: ‘He went into an Anteros Academy resident room! OMG!’ Castiel looked at the picture for a long time before reacting.

“Well now, it definitely looks like we’re going to spend the evening here. They’ll end up getting tired of waiting.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t care.” He sat down on my bed.

“Aren’t you afraid of what they’re going to say when you leave here?”

“There’s another solution…” he said serious.

“What, using the window as an escape route?”

“Never leaving this room.” He looked at me straight in the eye and my heart skipped a bit. I could feel my skin burn everywhere he was caressing it with his eyes, and I suddenly remembered that I was completely naked under that little piece of fabric that was supposed to be a dress.

“You know… You have no reason to envy the girl in the video.”

He could tell, could he. “And yet, there’s good reason to” I said matter-of-factly. She had had her hands all over him.

“You are so very wrong…”

He sat closer to me and laid his hand on mine gently before looking me in the eye.

“Castiel…”

“The proof… I’m here… with you. Not with her. And you’re the one I want to be with tonight…”

His gaze went down to my lips. He raised his hand to caress my thigh, up and down, and up again always a little higher… When he moved his face close to mine I could feel his cool breath caress my chin, and then he left a small tender kiss at the hollow between my shoulder and neck.

I was about to lose my mind, but he had said something that had ticked me off a little. He wanted to be with me tonight. Meaning what? Tomorrow he would be with her? Or someone else?

“Funny how you were the only one in the video though… your bandmates never showed up.”

“Of course not” he said in between kisses along my neck “the story is about me.”

He froze at those words, like he had shared something he wasn’t supposed to. And then it hit me.

Him running to her. The passion, the hunger, the love. Then she betrays him and runs away, leaving him for dead. The actress had my same hair colour. Similar high and built.

“To the risk of sounding really pretentious… was that video about… us?”

He didn’t reply and I knew I had hit the nail on the head.

I raised my hand to his cheek caressing him with fake tenderness and, with poison in my voice, said “what a nice opinion you have of me… a murderous bitch.”

“The video was filmed in the summer, before you came back in town.”

“Still…”

He pushed me and I fell with my back flat on the bed. Setting between my legs, hands at each side of my had, he brought his face close to mine.

“You have no idea… Four years ago… how I felt.” Oh he was angry, looking at me with dark eyes… but I was angry too.

“I think I kinda know” I spat out.

“You left” he growled.

“You stayed!”

VLAN!

What the…?! A big bang on the door. We both jumped fast. It was so hard I thought the door was going to break. We heard giggling in the hallway. “Damn, watch out, you’re going to bust the door! We could get into trouble with the administration!” a voice said. “It’s the only way to find out if he’s really in there!”

“Well, looks like we’re going to have to cut the evening short. I’m going to handle this once and for all!”

He got up, really pissed off, and I was sure the crazy groupies were only part of the reason. I grabbed him by his wrist.

“Don’t do that, it’ll make the band look bad, it’ll calm down over the next few days! Don’t do anything you’d regret.”

Still, he flung the door open, and about fifteen speechless girls stood face to face with him in the hallway. A long silence ensued.

“Excitement’s what you want? Here you go!”

He took my face in his hands and angrily put his lips on mine in front of the group of girls gaping in the hallway. He kissed me with fervour and hunger and, at first, I just stood there, shocked, letting him have his way with me. However my body quickly acted on his own grabbing his hair and following him in the kiss. When my mind finally snapped out of it and I remembered all those people staring at us, he pulled away.

“Hi there!”

Castiel cut through the group before running down the hallway towards the exit. I stood there in the same position for a second, in the doorway, as the girls stared at me in shock. I stepped back in my room as soon as I saw one of them rummaging through her bag to pull out her phone, and slammed the door hard behind me.

Wow. I shook my head as if to get my thoughts straight. What had just happened?

The night was going so well, amicably chatting and flirting a bit at first. Then things got heated and we were about to… when we started to fight, still on the bed though. Who knows what would have happened if we had been left alone. At this point we would be either making out or killing each other. Possibly both by the look of that kiss. A kiss he gave me in front of a bunch of strangers to… what? Make a point?

I turned around right away and locked the door, thinking that those maniacs could open it if they wanted to. I caressed my lips… despite everything, he had definitely just kissed me. Did he really do it just to shut them up? Even though… before those silly morons banged on my door, we were going to…

I checked my phone and considered sending him a message, but I didn’t know how… or what to say. I let myself drop down flat on my stomach onto my bed, arms spread out in a cross. What had just happened for goodness sake?!! I played his video again and watched it non-stop, until I finally dozed off.