#it was THE one and only album i begged my mother to let me buy because at the time i was like 11 or 12

[wanderingibon]

lorne balfe on the veilguard OST??!?!?!?! LETS GOOOO

[stevenblueniverse]

Bellow selkie au Chapter 9

Summary: blue diamond makes a scene and forces yellow to buy music

Chapter 9 day 1 around people

"Here, take this", yellow said, throwing some clothes to blue, "what are these for?", blue asked, picking up a dark blue jumper yellow gave her. "theyre clothes, I'm going to be taking you outside today, we need to try and help your fear of humans, if you blend in no one will notice you're a selkie", yellow replied, looking for more clothes that would fit blue "should I keep my coat here then? Wouldn't that make me stand out?", blue began to take her coat off and try on the human clothes immediately after, "I was going to say that", yellow said, putting her boots on, "but I thought it would scare you, leave the coat on my bed, no one will touch it, I promise".

Blue nervously stepped outside, she was holding tightly onto yellows hand, she felt so weak without her coat in public, she was wearing dark blue pants, a dark blue jumper and a white shirt, all too big for her and not suited for the extremely hot weather outside. "This place is quite small, I've only been here a bit and already know around here, hopefully I'll be able to go here again I really like it here", yellow said, trying to cheer up blue and lead her around, as she was speaking a small feeling of dread appeared, she realised she won't be here forever and may never see blue again, she tried to keep her mind off it but now couldn't stop worrying about what would happen if blue was left alone, and if she'd face the same fate as her sister.

"Where will you take me first?", blue asked, trying to sound confident when really she was trembling, she'd flinch and look away whenever she saw another person, she was probably making quite a scene. "I think first we should get you some clothes of your own, you can't only wear mine, they're too big for you and it must be way too hot wearing those!", yellow said, slightly pulling blue to the small clothes shop, she really didnt want to go to anywhere where there would be a lot of people. "I like your clothes yellow! They smell very nice, like you!", blue loudly said, getting some nearby people to look at them, yellow blushed bright red from embarrassment, "erm...thanks!? You know people never say that, living as a sailor isn't the most hygienic thing", yellow tried to laugh it off but it was so embarrassing. "well I like it! Those who don't are just idiots!", blue was getting very loud now, yellow needed to very gently hush her, they probably looked mad to all the people nearby.

Yellow opened the door to the shop and lightly pushed blue in first, thankfully it was nearly empty. "Alright blue choose what you want, you don't need to choose what I would wear just anything you like, I'll pay for it", yellow said, as blue looked around, she decided to analyse every single piece of item at the store, bending down and staring at one each for a long time, yellow huffed, "no not like that, we'll be here forever! Just pick something you'd like to wear", she whispered to blue, the few people in the shop where all watching her and her strange behaviour. After some time and yellow begging her to be quicker, blue finally got some clothes, she got a light blue sun dress, a red version of that same dress, jeans, a dark blue jacket with diamond patterns on the inside, yellow cringed when she saw blue pick that up, it was one of her mother's designs, and a black shirt with "mr universe" written on it, thankfully I didn't seem to cost much, yellow was very worried she'd made a mistake letting blue pick anything.

Yellow and blue finally exited the shop after what seemed like forever, yellow was already tired and people where still watching them. "I think we should go home blue", she said, blue shook her head, "no I want to go, there!", she pointed over to a music shop, "you want albums!?", yellow asked, confused, blue probably didn't even know what that place sold, "really?", yellow asked, way to tired for this, blue looked up to her and nooded, she was too cute for yellow to say no to, so she let her look inside.

Yellow tried to explain to her what music was and how albums worked but blue seemed to already know, she immediately rushed over to look at the vinyls. "Blue I only have a player for those back home, are you sure you want that", yellow said, chasing after her, blue was really fast. Blue looked over to yellow and showed her a vinyl she had picked out, the cover was black and white with a woman in the middle, "I want this one", she told yellow, giving it to her to look at, "you want..", yellow looked at the text written above the photo on the cover, "a Lisa hannigan album..... Blue do you even know who or what this is?", yellow was way to tired to be dealing with this, she needed to get home and sleep, "please yellow, I really want to understand you humans, wouldn't learning your music be the best way? And maybe I can come home with you and we can listen to it together?" Blue's guilt tripping was amazing, a bit of sweat ran down yellow's face as she imagined trying to introduce blue to her mother, it would be chaos. "Fine", yellow sighed, knowing this was definitely going to be expensive, "maybe ill try and sneak you onto my ship when we leave", "you won't need to do that", blue smiled at her, "I'll just transform and follow after, did you forget how good seals are at swimming?".

They've been outside for much longer than expected, when they got out the music store it was already getting dark out. They exited the shop with blue holding all the bags full of clothes and the album she forced yellow to get. Yellow yawned loudly, "today was quite a day! How was your first day outside without your coat!", "it was okay, I still feel off without it, when we get home I'm definitely putting it back on", blue replied, looking around the nearby houses, suddenly she froze, and dropped the bags, yellow grabbed the one from the music store, "what are you doing! You couldve broke that! What are you looking at-", then yellow saw it, they where standing right outside the home of pink diamond and her human family, they could see the human who had trapped her getting out of his van and going into the home, he looked back at them, yellow gulped, "blue let's leave now!", she grabbed the bags and blue and rushed out of there as fast as she could.

[personuhh]

okay so awhile ago you posted something about Yosuke (crazy, right?) and in the tags I believe you mentioned something about how you don’t like Yosukes parents? Could you elaborate? bc I have not stopped thinking about it since you mentioned it (sorry this is so vague my memory is horrid skjdjfjgj)

OYSUEJGHHBKEJHDSGVDH oh my god okay SO. At first I just got ~vibes~ from him... like, I couldn’t quite pin down what made me think he had abusive parents, because obviously he never says anything to indicate it explicitly, but then I started noticing... small things.

I don’t want to say outright that I think they’re abusive (physically or verbally) and I also don’t think that Yosuke hates them, or necessarily even sees anything wrong with how they treat him, but I do think that their behavior has severely impacted Yosuke and led to a lot of the negative traits he displays.

To me, the most telling example is this conversation where he talks about Teddie being praised by his parents for being “thoughtful” very pointedly in front of him. It seems to be a reoccurring thing where they compare him to other people (primarily Teddie) and make him feel inferior. Yosuke’s a bit of a pushover, and frequently gets taken advantage of monetarily, and in this case he’s caved and lent Teddie a significant chunk of his savings for their trip to Tatsumi Port Island... only for him to spend it on presents to suck up to Yosuke’s parents which makes Yosuke look unthoughtful. Yosuke clearly sees it that way, even if Teddie hadn’t intentionally planned it out from the start as such (he calls Teddie “surprisingly shrewd”).

Yosuke gets told off either because a) he didn’t want to fight back/argue, and instead just took a passive stance instead of telling his parents that he was the one to lend Teddie the money in the first place, and thus didn’t have any left to buy them gifts, or b) his parents think so little of him that they don’t believe him at all. He specifically says he doubts his parents understand, which makes me think that he did try to explain the situation.

There are also several instances of a large Junes event being Yosuke’s responsibility, or at least of him thinking that he has to scramble to make things work, like the Junes concert, where he says he’ll have to move away if it doesn’t pan out; maybe this is his own thinking, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if it was something his dad said to scare him into helping, especially considering he MUST know that Yosuke is friends with Rise, or the time during the summer where he calls Yu and begs him to help out. Yosuke isn’t a manager, but he’s still got all the responsibilities of one, and even tries his best to work out other employees’ problems as well (look at his SL).

The Junes concert in particular really sent up some red flags for me, especially because Yosuke says this.

“Awfully nice for some reason”?

Yosuke’s got terrible self-esteem, there are countless times where he’s shown to be overwhelmed and embarrassed by completely genuine praise from his friends. In one of the drama CDs he mentions that he intentionally doesn’t try his best in school because he doesn’t want to disappoint himself by doing poorly while also knowing that he gave his all. It really makes me think that his parents just have an abysmally low opinion of him, and he’s adopted that same view of himself.

There’s also several scenes where he talks about his parents finding his porn (or Teddie showing it to them) and in his SL he says his mom “read the title out loud to [his] family” which on top of obviously indicating his family is pretty conservative about that kind of thing, also means he’s had to learn to be secretive with them to some extent. In Arena, Yosuke’s mother goes as far as burning the porn Teddie finds. Even if it's meant to be humorous, Yosuke's property is still being destroyed.

Now these next few things are more... abstract and can definitely be argued, but personally I still find them important to point out when discussing the topic.

Yosuke obviously struggles with toxic masculinity, and similarly to Kanji, feels like he needs to be the ideal, strong man that protects the weak, etc. Even without looking at specific dialogue, you can tell that Yosuke’s been raised to think he needs to be a “real” man, that displaying more “feminine” behaviors is a sign of weakness; because that isn’t just subtextual, it’s something he very visibly displays, it’s part of his arc. He can’t mourn and cry, he has to get revenge (because he couldn’t protect Saki at the time and he watched helplessly as she died, it makes it his fault), he says hugs are for girls (a common sentiment, but he had to learn it from somewhere), and any time he slips up and reveals his actual feelings, he has to overcompensate, let everyone know that he’s just your average teenage boy who’s definitely interested in women. Yosuke’s not the most masculine guy, he likes fashion and cares about his appearance (the bar is so low) and I’d bet that if he were given space to explore his interests without any expectations, he might actually find he’s into stuff that goes against what he’s been taught. He admits to liking crossdressing, then walks it back; not because he’s ashamed of it (on the contrary, once he realizes people found him cute, he openly brags about it), but because he thinks he SHOULD be ashamed of it.

It’s why he feels so threatened by Kanji, who completely takes him by surprise when he realizes his outer appearance and interests don’t match up. Now Yosuke’s got to compete with Kanji over who’s the manliest, show that he’s not like Kanji, because Kanji’s already accepted that side of himself, and it totally goes against everything Yosuke’s been taught to think is “normal”.

So then we look at lines like this.

On its own it’s nothing special, but it’s not just the slogan itself, it’s the way that Yosuke specifically says that his dad is still saying it. Combining this with what I mentioned previously about Yosuke’s behavior, and a few other tidbits, like Teddie mentioning that he watches violent war movies with Yosuke’s dad, it definitely makes me think he’s the type of guy who’d try and push Yosuke into being more masculine, being a traditional, unshakable, unemotional man.

Lastly, there’s the recently identified album on Yosuke’s shelf in arena, and what do you know, one of the songs on it (The Chain, by Mr. Big) has these lyrics...

In my mind, I see Yosuke’s mother as an incredibly controlling, strict woman who expects her son to be utterly perfect, and even when he’s good, it’s never good enough. Yosuke’s father is busy with Junes, and while he isn’t around the house too often, Yosuke sees him at work quite a bit, large and in-charge, not allowing anyone to see weakness, he leans on his son because he can’t bring himself to ask for help. Yosuke’s left to pick up the slack, and he’s taught by example that relying on others is cowardly, that being intimidating gets you further than being “nice”. Even though Yosuke obviously goes against this, he can't fully commit for fear of standing out and disappointing his parents, and that makes him passive; he ends up being a pushover, and neither of his parents are happy about that. He’s a “disappointment” to them, it’s one of his defining traits that everyone loves to bring up. It's something that's shown to really get under his skin, but he can never do much more than get angry, because he truly thinks he is a disappointment, he doesn't think highly of himself, even if he protests.

Maybe I’m reading into all of these things a little too much, but... I don’t know, I’ve said it before, but I just don’t see how half of Yosuke’s personality would have been shaped by anything other than his parents being Not Great.

[waveypedia]

and now, for my next number, i’d like to return to the classics

Rymin Week Day 7: Domestic

1 2 4 5 6

Ao3

~

It’s been years since he lived primarily in his van on tour, but Ryan will never not be grateful to always have a kitchen.

Early morning sunlight streams through the soft white curtains as he goes through the motions of breakfast. The curtains were a gift from one sister, the cookware a gift from their old manager before she got promoted. The sleek fridge, which Ryan opens next, was a careful purchase he and Min worked together to carefully pick out, as is the same for most of their furniture. The eggs he pulls out from inside it are from their local farmer’s market, where all the vendors know them by name. Not because they used to be semi-famous rock stars, but because they come by every week toting instruments to serenade the shoppers with.

Ryan coats the pan in nonstick cooking spray and cracks the eggs into it. Salts it. He puts the ingredients away while he’s waiting for it to cook and pours two glasses of water.

Then, all that’s left is the waiting.

Ryan finds one of his guitars leaning against the wall in the next room. Their apartment is chock-full of all kinds of musical instruments they’ve accumulated over the years. After all the fuss Ryan had to go through to get his first guitar as a teenager, it feels both strange and gratifying to see how far he’s come.

One instrument they do not have is a viola. Min has played it on his own, usually on lease from friends, but he won’t play it regularly enough to buy one. Ryan is more than happy with that.

Ryan sits down on top of the counter and plucks a few, soft notes on his chosen guitar. He doesn’t have any particular melody or song in mind; he just lets his fingers play what they wish.

In no time at all, the eggs finish cooking. Ryan regretfully sets down the guitar to flip them and slide them onto plates. Just as he’s turning off the stove, the sound of a door opening down the hall and resounding footsteps reaches his ears.

Ryan snorts.

His husband emerges into the kitchen, hair still messy from bed. Even after all these years, Ryan’s heart flutters at the sight of him.

Min leans down to steal a kiss off the top of Ryan’s head. “Ooh, eggs. Are those for me?”

Ryan swings the plate away, nearly spilling the coveted breakfast. “Of course not. I cook for myself. Never for my handsome husband.”

“Hmm, too bad.” Min grabs a fork and leans in for a bite. “Hey, these are good!”

Ryan laughs and leans against Min’s chest. “Almost as good as your ability to come running as soon as there’s food ready. I swear, Min, it’s superhuman.”

“Only if it’s your food,” Min promises, struggling not to laugh.

Ryan cackles. “Of course. I see how it is”

Min kisses him again and steps away. “I’ll get the table set if you plate the eggs and get some fruit, dear.”

“I can do better than that!” Ryan dishes out the eggs on two plates and cuts some oranges up. He walks over to the toaster and drops two pieces of toast in. “A full breakfast. How about that?”

Min laughs and pulls a tub of butter out of the fridge. “Lovely, thank you.” He peers at the plates. “Eggs and toast. How downright American of you. Would you like some bacon with that?”

 “Hey, at least it’s not post-war,” Ryan quips back. He stretches his arms over his head and sets the plates down on the table. “Eh, that would take too much time.” He leans over to peck Min’s cheek. “After all, I would hate to miss breakfast with my lovely husband.”

Min beams. “Good choice.” His wedding ring twinkles in the early morning sunlight.

Ryan sighs dreamily. “Man, am I glad I married you.”

“Me too.” Min’s smile is fond and so full of love it makes Ryan’s heart swell. When he smiles, all his wrinkles soften and curve upwards like little smiles themselves. Ryan loves to kiss each one.

“So.” Min straightens out and pulls out his phone. “We have a practice session at 4 today, booked at the venue for Saturday’s performance.”

“Okay, good.” Ryan nods. “I want to run through the new arrangement Train to Nowhere.”

Min shakes his head, chuckling. “We’ve been playing that song for forty years, Ryan. Shouldn’t you know it inside and out?”

“I just want to tweak some things for this arrangement,” Ryan shoots back, not unkindly.

“Ryan.” Min reaches across the table to lay his hand on top of Ryan’s. Their wedding rings make a soft clink sound when Min’s hits his. “It’s going to be fine. The fans love that song, as do we. We know it well.”

  I know, I know.” Ryan squeezes Min’s hand and glances away. His eyes catch on a vase of beautiful purple flowers. I need to water those today, he notes offhandedly. “That’s why I want it to be as good as it can be.”

“It will be,” Min promises.

Ryan smiles. “I believe you.”

Min laughs, reaching across with his other hand to squeeze Ryan’s cheek gently. Ryan laughs, batting his hand away. “Of course you do. You should listen to your husband more often, Ryan.”

“What are you talking about? I always listen to you,” Ryan snorts.

Min waggles his finger. “Ah-ah, that sheet music you bought last week would beg to differ,” he says. “I told you we already had it in a songbook somewhere.”

Ryan crosses his arms, faux-affronted. “Excuse me for wanting more music to play!”     

“I don’t care about that. Just spend our money on music we don’t already have,” Min says, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

Ryan shrugs and lets out a small huff of laughter. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Min gets up to clear their plates. “I’m going to go grocery shopping and then call my parents. Do you need anything?”

“No, but I’ll pop on that call if you don’t mind,” Ryan replies, standing up. “And can you grab some cheese? And the-“

“Those crackers you like, the ones that come in the blue box, I know, I know,” Min says, laughing and shaking his head affectionately. “It’s on the list.”

Ryan walks over and wraps an arm around his husband. “Ah, you know me so well. Thanks, babe.”

Min shrugs him off, laughing. “Stop calling me that! It’s not classy!”

“Pfft, okay.” Ryan kisses Min on the cheek before releasing him. “See you in a few hours?”

“You know it.” Min waves and kisses him goodbye before he’s out the door.

Ryan hums softly to himself as he cleans up the kitchen. It starts out as a B-side from one of Chicken Choice Judy’s earlier albums - their third, if memory serves correctly. Four years after they’d escaped the train, when their career was steadily taking off and they started touring outside of North America.

Ryan shook his head, chuckling softly to himself as he wiped a dish clean. “Man, what a time.”

As he works, the tune slowly shifts into something more original and unique. Something new. When he notices the change, he immediately scrambles for a pen and paper. Luckily, there’s a large notebook of blank sheet music in the drawer under the microwave for this exact reason.

Ryan flips past pages of sheet music penned from similar scenarios to a blank page. He leans against the counter, writing down notes and chords and lyrics as time slips away. Before he knows it, he has a full song on his hands and Min’s returned.

“Hey, honey,” Min says, dropping the grocery bags on the kitchen table and leaning in for a kiss. “Whatcha got there?”

Ryan tips the sheet music notebook over so Min can see. “A new song. I’m calling this one ‘Sunsets’ for now. What do you think?”

Min hums thoughtfully as he peruses the notes. “It sounds pretty, Ryan! May I suggest a ukulele rift here?” He taps the third line down as he talks. “I think that would add to the image.”

Ryan grins. “You’re a genius, Min.” He’s said similar statements many times over their forty-year music-writing career, but it never gets old.

Min preens, laughing. “Oh, I know. I’m gonna call my parents in a few, okay?”

“Sure. Call me when you’re ready.” Ryan doesn’t take his eyes off the music as Min leaves.

When he eventually hits a block, he puts away the groceries. He’s just finished when Min pokes his head out of the office door and beckons.

 “Hello, Ryan!” Min’s mother greets when he steps inside. “Lovely to see you.”

“You as well, 어머님,” he replies, squeezing into the office chair next to Min. It’s not supposed to be big enough to fit them both, but they always seem to manage. Min laughs and tries to bat him off, but it’s halfhearted at this point. Ryan has been doing it for long enough that Min gave up a while ago. Besides, they both know Min likes the subtle affection.

“Just get another chair,” Min’s father grumbles, not unkindly. His wife gives him a small nudge on the shoulder.

“Leave them alone. Let them enjoy each other’s company,” Min’s mother replies, shaking her head in mirth. “If they’re still in their honeymoon phase after all this time, that’s on them.”

“엄마, please,” Min sighs, burying his head in his hands. His mother just laughs.

--

At precisely four P.M., he and Min are settled onstage at Saturday’s venue. It happens to be a beautiful outdoor amphitheater with vines and greenery gently climbing up the pillars holding up the stage’s ceiling. The audience area is open-sky and curves gently downward, like a bowl.

Ryan stands in the center of said “bowl”, guitar hanging from his shoulders by its strap. He raises his arms to the sky and spins, taking in everything.

From his place onstage, behind his synthesizer, Min laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Just taking in the sights.” Ryan does a final spin for good measure before turning to face Min. “It really is quite pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Min gazes up at the orange-tinted sky with a soft smile. “Our manager really outdid herself with the booking this time. We’ll have to thank her.”

Ryan clambers up on the stage, silently wincing at the height gap between the audience floor and stage floor. He’s really not as young as he used to be, is he? “Should we send her flowers?”

“I think she really liked the sunflowers we got her last time. They were on her living room table when we visited her.” Min places his fingers on the keys, hovering just above them. “Maybe chocolate, too.”

Ryan laughs. “How cliché. Is there something I should know?” He waltzes over to Min and wraps a lazy arm around his husband, leaning all of his weight into Min’s shoulders.

Min laughs and shoves him off. “Please, do I have to come out to you again? Not all of us are interested in women, you know.”

“And what a great loss to the female community it is. The ladies of the Min-Gi Park fan club will have to go in mourning,” Ryan giggled. “But really, flowers and chocolate sound nice. She’ll like it.”

Min gave him a thumbs-up. “Sound check?”

Ryan gives his guitar an experimental strum. It echoes across the amphitheater beautifully, filling the bowl with sound and vibration. He whoops. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Not until Saturday, or else we’ll have some very unhappy neighbors to contend with,” Min admonishes, laughing. His fingers fly across the keys. “I’m good too.”

Ryan taps his mic. “Then let’s get ready to rock!” His voice booms across the venue. A few peacefully roosting birds take flight, squawking indignantly.

Min rolls his eyes. “Leave the poor birds alone, and you have a deal.”

“Please, we all know they just want to hear us play.” Ryan fishes his guitar pick from his jacket pocket and holds it poised over his guitar strings. “How do you feel about Train to Nowhere as a warm-up?”

“Fine by me,” Min says. His eyes don’t leave his synth. “It’s my favorite song to play with you, Ryan.”

“Well, of course,” Ryan says. “It’s what got us together, after all. In more ways than one.”

Min laughs. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Care to count us off?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to ask.” Ryan raises his pick and grins. “Five, six, eleven, twelve!”

Somewhere in Canada, the sun sets over a practicing music duo in the early 2020s. They laugh and goof around on an empty stage as birds and a few curious passerby stop to watch. The notes of their original hit song, “Train to Nowhere,” grace the evening air.

In the middle of the song, their eyes meet. They do not speak outside of the song lyrics, but an entire conversation passes through their gaze. It’s all they can do to not run to each other and hug each other right then and there.

After all, Ryan and Min-Gi Akagi-Park have lived a lifetime with each other. And they will live out the rest of their lives with each other, happy and content beyond imagination. 

~

i'm not korean so i'm not sure if the words i used for min's mother are right. if anyone knows better and sees i'm wrong, please tell me! the website said the word min uses ( 엄마 / eomma) is the informal way to say mom, and you only use it for your own mother. the word ryan uses ( 어머님 / eomeonim ) is formal and often used for mothers-in-law. eomma is really similar to the hebrew word for mother, which is amma. i think that's fascinating because hebrew and korean are not similar languages at all. lingustics as a whole is fascinating because you can see where languages and dialects split off from each other and where/why that happened in history. it's also really cool to see languages so similar to each other you can communicate with someone else in two different languages. languages also have cognants (not sure if i'm spelling that right) where a word is basically the same across multiple languages. it's really interesting to see in this modern world of quick and easy communication how many cognants we have, especially for semi-recent terms (the technology unit in french was SO easy). anyway sorry for the tangent i just really love linguistics

man i wasn't planning to write for today until i realized i'd overestimated the chapter count and it felt weird to not write aksdgfjs. i hope i can keep to this schedule of writing every day but school will probably put a hard stop to that. gotta get out as much writing as i can before then! i started writing this at like 9pm i'm so sorry if it's messy dkfhjfkd

we've come full circle! this started with baby rymin and now we have much older rymin. poetic cinema........

the euphoria i got everytime i wrote "his husband"......... they are MARRIED gamers!!!!!

this is a callout post for every time i pour myself a bowl of chips at my aunt and uncle's house and all five of them suddenly think my bowl is a free-for-all even though the bag is sitting right there. stop i am not a chip dispensary. do not be min-gi akagi-park leave my chips alone

title is from uhhhh i don't know what it was called (some indie thing) but it was in my last winterguard show (fuck covid i wanted a senior season) and it just popped into my head. or it might have just been a voice line from something i heard it in another show with different music. whatever it's almost 1 am i'll look it up later. i put it on my titles doc (which is 90% song lyrics and which my brother likes to call the "song lyric moodboard" even though it's just a bullet list) out of impulse and nostalgia and never really intended to use it but it actually fits really well here?? who knew

it didn't make it in but i imagine that ryan and min have a parrot named kez and they've taught it some of kez's favorite and most iconic phrases. imagine you are visiting acclaimed musical duo chicken choice judy's house and you hear a parrot squawk at you "Why do you hate fun, Min." another thing that kind of made it in but not quite was that ryan has all those weird guitars. im picturing this one my temporary songleading teacher at camp, who's a professional musician and probably the most famous jewish folk artist out there (which is a very niche group so he's not really famous), brought out once. it was really small and had like eight tiny strings all crammed in together and it both fascinated and terrified me. i have no idea how you can play that without accidentally pressing all the wrong strings all the time but dan nichols can do it so i've decided ryan can do it too

tomorrow is au day... you know what that means... *shoves rymin into my current hyperfixation*

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or on twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a reblog/like/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

[hippohead]

For the 'things you said' prompt: #11 please

things you said when you were drunk

Blaine has always liked to collect things.  

When he was younger, it was beer bottle caps. His mother would roll her eyes with affection and tut every time he rescued them from the bin or begged his father to leave them in a pile for him if he was drinking. He didn’t really do anything with them – just kept them in a jar in his wardrobe and watched the collection grow. It made no sense but it makes sense, really, because what else is a six-year-old going to collect? He had no money to buy things and his father drank a lot of beer.

He threw them in the recycling bin when he was fourteen.

For his sixteenth birthday, his grandma bought him a record player. Well, gave him her old one and he had to fiddle around with it a little bit to get it working. But once it was – he collected vinyl. Obsessively. Like everything would fall apart if he didn’t have Paul Simon’s Graceland on his shelf, or own every Beach Boys album ever made. And then rare covers, recordings of musicals with the original cast, albums people wouldn’t expect Blaine to have. It all mattered.  

When he was eighteen, he bought himself an iPod with the money he’d made working at the theme park over the summer, and it all mattered a little less. There were other things, sure – stamps, briefly, and socks. Bow-ties. Lapel pins. Cufflinks. Theatre tickets.

He hadn’t really collected anything for a while, though. Until he met Kurt.  

There were so many things about Kurt that he was collecting – his smiles and what causes them, the blushes that sit prettily on the top of his cheeks whenever Blaine compliments his outfits, every time he sighs so contently and tells Blaine they’re in New York City, as if saying the words like that will somehow make it sink in properly. Every time Kurt reaches out and touches Blaine, lightly, always with fondness and a nervousness that Blaine can’t place. That was Blaine’s favourite thing to collect because there weren’t that many. It felt like a prize when he was given another one; fingers on his forearm as Kurt laughs, hand dusting something off Blaine’s shoulder and who knows if anything was really there, knees knocking together on the subway because it feels like they can down there.  

And, lately, the words he only gets when Kurt is drunk.  

It feels a little weird, collecting them, because Kurt never remembers them in the morning and as much as Blaine wishes they were said on purpose, it’s all he has at the moment. The only verbal, out loud thing. And so he is selfish, and greedy, and revels in the intoxicated murmurs.  

The first time was two months ago. They’d all gone to Callbacks – the two of them and Rachel and Brody and Elliott, too. Rachel and Brody had slipped off an hour into the night, Elliott had been chatting to some guy at the bar for a while and waved them on, and Kurt had definitely been starting to blur the line between drunk and too-drunk.  

“Okay, it’s time to get you home, I think.”

Kurt pouted and made a reach for Blaine’s unfinished vodka soda. “That’s not fair,” and it came out whiny when Blaine quickly placed it on the table beside them.  

“Come on,” he chuckled, amused at his friend’s state.  

And then it had happened: he had placed a hand on Kurt’s arm with the intent of literally guiding him out of the bar if he needed to, and Kurt had looked at it, softly, pout falling away, and had said, head still turned, “I think that you’re my favourite.”

I think that you’re my favourite.

The second time was burned into Blaine’s mind, and he shifted it around and sifted through the words over and over. They made him feel... warm, but not in the cute way. In the desperate want kind of way. And it was inappropriate, probably, where he let his thoughts drift to when he thought about it, but Kurt was inappropriate first.

They were the last two standing at the end of games night - everyone else had left and Rachel was in bed. And, actually, they weren’t exactly standing. They were sitting, curled up into themselves on the couch with their glasses of wine curled into their palms. Kurt was at least three glasses deeper than Blaine was, but it was fine, because he was still feeling the buzz and he was getting to talk to Kurt.  

Or, well, getting to tease Kurt. Because Kurt can’t whistle.  

He’d tried – proved to Blaine that he couldn’t by pursing his lips and flicking his tongue and blowing nothing but air out. And there were tears in Blaine’s eyes from laughing so much at the attempt. And Kurt was pushing his chest, laughing too, telling him to stop making fun of him.

“It’s not my fault I can’t whistle.” He took a long sip of wine and then, as if making the decision that he was willing to say whatever he was thinking, “There are plenty of other things my mouth can do.”

And Blaine’s own mouth had gone immediately dry. “Oh, really?”  

He hadn’t meant for it to sound like a challenge. In fact, he was hoping it would come out meek and feeble because Kurt doing other things with his mouth was entirely too much to think about. And thinking about it right in front of him was not ideal. But it must have come out like a challenge, because Kurt’s eyes were wicked when he leaned forward and said, “Do you want me to prove that to you, too?”

And then Rachel had walked past to go to the bathroom, and Blaine had tipped the rest of his wine down the sink, and gone home.  

Do you want me to prove that to you, too?

The third time was blurry for Blaine, too, because he’d had almost as much as Kurt. And they were giggling and accidentally elbowing each other in Kurt’s bed, trying to get comfortable, because they’d only just managed to get back to the loft in one piece and there was no way Blaine was going to make it back to his own place, too.  

And then, once the giggling had slowed down, Kurt had said, “I’m glad we’re drunk right now.”

“How come?”

“Because there’s no way I could share a bed with you if I was sober.”

And that – hurt. He still wasn’t sure why it did, but maybe it was because Blaine wanted to share a bed with Kurt drunk and sober. “Why?”

“Because I have the biggest crush on you, dummy.”

And then he had rolled over, pulling most of the covers with him and Blaine didn’t fight it. He wouldn’t be cold, anyway.

Because I have the biggest crush on you, dummy.

It happens a few more times, things like God, you’re really pretty. Did you know that? and Dance with me and I wish I could kiss you, falling softly from his lips and then never spoken about again. He even manages to make saying Blaine’s name mean something entirely different, like it’s heavier on his tongue with alcohol. But then there’s the them without the alcohol, the them on weekdays and on weekend nights when they just want to stay in and watch Rent again. There’s the them getting coffee or talking about assignments or discussing Rachel’s latest Brody drama. And it’s so painfully platonic, like Kurt has a wall up that only stays built when he’s clearheaded and alert.  

And Blaine is starting to worry about his collection. It is much harder to keep words than bottle caps and records, because you cannot throw them away or store them safely in a case. They exist, in the air and in the way Kurt said them and in the way he let them scratch into his heart.

And then this time it’s Blaine that’s drunk.

It doesn’t happen often, because he hates the uneven feeling he gets in the pit of his stomach when he drinks too much, but if Kurt gets to say things when he’s drunk and make the words a secret, then Blaine should be allowed to, too.  

So, he finds him. Finds him in the corner of Elliott’s balcony talking with Tina and asks her to give them a moment and lets it all bubble in his chest – the feelings and the holding onto all of the things Kurt has said to him and the way they’re both being cowards. And he tells it all, lets the words fall out of him this time. Tells Kurt that he’s Blaine’s favourite, that he desperately wants Kurt to prove what he can do with his mouth, that he has the biggest crush on Kurt, too. That he’s mad that they’re relying on alcohol and not being brave, and that he wants to be brave, but for now he’s going to be a coward as well. And it’s sloppy, and it’s sour, and it’s said.  

The next morning, Kurt is on his doorstep looking as disheveled as Blaine feels with a bottle of tequila in his hand. And he grins at Blaine, a little lop-sided and cheeky, and raises the bottle, “Want to talk?”  

It’s a joke. He knows it’s a joke.  

So he steps to the side and lets Kurt in, and they talk with the bottle of tequila on the table, unopened, untouched, and it’s funny how the words feel even easier when they both know they’ll remember them.

And when he kisses Kurt for the first time, softly and with a little bit of a laugh into it because they’ve both been idiots, he knows exactly what he’s going to collect next.  

[oneweekoneband]

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages.  (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time. 

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. 

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift,  she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

what if in the distance series, she’s been having a really stressful week with her album promotions and whatnot and all calum wants to do is make her feel better and the facetimes can only help so much so he decides to fly out and surprise her 🥺

Thanks so much for the suggestion! I’m going to combine it with this one: 

i’m feeling rlly down do u think for the distance series you could write another blurb about the reader being really upset and not wanting to bother cal but she tweets a really concerning tweet and cal calls her and she’s balling and maybe he sings to her to make her to feel better and the next week she gets a care package?

I did some tweaks. Her album’s not out yet. She’s just promoting the singles. But the album is coming out soon! I’m not a professional, so I don’t know how any of this actually works. But I’m trying. 

Here are parts one, two, three, four, and five. This is the Distance series on my masterlist!

If you have any suggestions or ideas for this series, please feel free to send them to me! I will try and use as many as I can while also progressing the story along!

_______________________________

The thing about life is that, sometimes when one thinks there’s not much lower that they can do, there’s something right around the corner that proves deeper is possible. Though the tweets hadn’t exactly lessened,  she made a point not to be on social media unless she had to be, she only interacted with fans for a spare few minutes, liking tweets and reply to the love and positive outreach. Her relationship with social media is rapidly evolving and for the first time in a while, she kind of understood the reason why Calum never seemed to be on his. It was a hard river to get out of, if one floated down it too long. 

But now, she was looking at her schedule for promotion and while thankfully most things were still relatively close to her, traveling this much so soon, made her nervous. She tried to speak with her manager and the team, to see if some of the interviews could be scheduled for video. They had managed to keep a decent portion video based but still too many required her traveling. “I’ll try to talk to some people, but you really have to get out there, have people see your face. Besides, you already traveled out of the country once before. What’s the big deal now?”

It makes sense and she’s still new to this game. But going to see Calum is completely different than being in cities for hours before flying out for the next. Just the idea of her being herded around made her a little uncomfortable. “I understand that, but when am I supposed to be a human being during all of this? I still have songs to finish. And I visited a friend for a few days. Totally different than bouncing around god knows how many countries in two weeks. I need time to breathe in all this.”

“Listen, we’re here to help you out. The only way for this relationship to work is if there is mutual respect.”

“That’s rich,” she retorts. “I’m only simply asking that for my mental wellbeing that we adjust some of the interviews, that’s all.”

“And we will see what we can do.” The rest of the meeting is tense and it grates every nerve in her soul that there seems to be no real regard. It’s really just in the tone. Like she’s a child begging for candy in the checkout line while her mother has already told her once before that there is candy at home. 

But she has to in some ways take them at their word. She lets this go for now but when the next day, she receives an email that the schedule will remain the same, she knows in her gut that no one actually talked about rearranging anything. Can she really afford to cause a ripple? Especially so early in her career? These people kind of did pluck her from obscurity but at the same time, shouldn’t her voice be heard?

Remember the compression socks, reads the message from Calum. He sent her a care package last week, after hearing about her promotion schedule. It was going to be hell and Calum wasn’t going to hide that fact from her. She hadn’t told me about the small feud. So he sent things that helped him out a lot, the socks for the constant air travel, a sleep mask, vitamins, a book that he recommended but she hadn’t stopped by the local shop to buy, a pack of her favorite pens that she had to order from a place in New York, and a beautiful bound leather journal. Her wire bound notebook was curling at the corners and well loved. It was by time to get a new one but she had a hard time giving up on things. 

Snapping a picture of her carry on, she makes sure the socks are resting right on top. I would never. 

You got this, buttercup. Calum stares at his phone, wishing he could do a little 

The first couple of days aren’t so bad. The flights aren’t terribly long. The interviews are kind of fun, filled with plenty of laughter. There are gimmicky games based on her singles and they didn’t always pan out completely, but for a second, she figures maybe she had overreacted. But soon the interviews grow repetitive, the games are no longer fun. She can’t even write, by the time she’s on a plane, all she wants is sleep. The time zones are killer and she swears time means literally nothing as she’s hurded about. 

I’m losing it, she texts Calum. Losing all sense of her humanity. She’s grateful to meet her fans in the small pockets of time she’s allotted and that keeps her going. But slowly and surely, her body is drained. No amount of sleep means anything. She can’t hardly concrete. It’s all crumbling around her. She doesn’t feel human. 

“Are you sleeping?” Calum asks, through the screen. His picture goes pixelated for a quick second but then it straightens back out. 

“Yeah. Just doesn’t seem like enough though.”

Calum knows that feeling. He knows that look in her eyes too. It’s hard to keep up the facade when constantly about.  “Eating enough?”

“Kinda,” she admits. She tries to think what she had for breakfast. But that was hours ago and now she’s sitting waiting for another plane that will take her even further ahead in time. Will she be eating breakfast again soon? Does it even matter right now?

Calum passes along a few more tricks, but mostly aims to distract. He talks about the new music he’s working on. She asks if she can get a sneak peak and he’s more than happy to oblige. If that’s all he can do for the small moments in time, he’ll do it. He wishes he could do more though. It’s not easy and he’s fortunate to have three other people that are going through it all at the same time as him. There’s always a support system. But it’s just her. And she can confide in a couple of her security guards, they’ve become a level of friends, but it’s still not quite the same. 

“I miss my dog,” she confesses, randomly amongst the reverbing rumble of Calum’s bass as he finishes the last chord in the progression. Her chest starts to ache. And the tears are stinging her eyes before she can really stop them. “I miss my dog so fucking much,” she cries in a whisper. “I miss my bed. I miss you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s hard to be away. I totally get it.” His heart races, because of her tears but also because of her confession. Now, probably isn’t the time, not to get hung up on that last sentence but his mouth is moving before he can will it not too. “I miss you too. And I know your dog misses you. And it’s okay to miss us. We’ll always be right here when you need us.”

It doesn’t help to be having this breakdown in the middle of an airport. And sure, there might be headlines in the coming days but at the end of the day she’s so human. No matter how much she wants to pretend nothing ever affects her, it does. It always will. Her wall isn’t without some flaws. She does her best to calm the tears, steady her breathing but it feels so right just to let it all out. 

She manages to excuse herself to that bathroom. There are still about thirty minutes before her flight and she has to get it all out now before she boards. With Calum still on the line, she sobs in the bathroom. A toilet flushes alerting her that she’s not as alone as she once expected but locked into the stall, it doesn’t matter. Calum soothes her as best he can, telling her it’s okay to get it all out.  Ten minutes later, she’s cleaned up and running back to her gate. “Thanks, Cal.”

“No, no need to thank me. Just take care of yourself, okay? Please.”

She nods, guards waiting for her with her bags. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Just like she knew, it’s all over the internet the next day. The woman interviewing asks if everything’s okay, what sparked the teary episode. “I’m human, in case anyone forgets. I am human and I just hit my limit. I think we all need to take a moment to remember we are human. I am. You are. The person listening to this. We’re all human at the end of the day.” That’s all she has to say because if truth be told, she’s still at that limit, she’s still hitting that wall in which everything feels hazy but crying her eyes out helped a little bit. 

Calum sees her interview, not trying to look for it, but it pops up on his timeline. Her voice shakes as she speaks, lower lip quivering but her tone is strong, there’s a fire behind her eyes as she talks. Calum knows she’s hitting that wall and she won’t really get over it until she gets home and gets a chance to unwind. It’s crazy. Really, but he can’t do much over a call or over a video chat. So he figures out when her return home is and books a flight out for the next day. He should really make sure she wants company to, but it’s too late now as his email dings with the confirmation. 

It’s midday and it should require more pants than she’s currently wearing, her only plans are to stay curled up on her couch and snuggled up with her dog. She has plenty of food in the house and she doesn’t mind taking the moment to cook for herself. The knock at her door is surprising and she stands, hollering that she needs just a moment and scurries to her room to grab a pair of shorts off the chair in her room that has just become the clothes chair when things aren’t dirty to go into the laundry but aren’t clean to stick back into the drawer. 

And there’s Calum, just standing at her door. A hoodie on his head, covering the baseball cap and his sunglasses. “Hey,” he exhales with a tiny grin. 

All she can do is hug him, shaking with a small bit of laughter. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, or if I’m hallucinating this, but I’m absolutely okay with this.”

He kisses the top of her head. “Just here to cheer you up, buttercup. That’s all.”

-H

[msiopao]

The One With Koo Koo’s Little Munchkin

pairing: jungkook x nobi (ft. uncle bangtan)

summary: nobi’s brother lets her babysit her niece but her and jungkook don’t really know how to take care of a baby

if she was warned of the disaster and the regret that would happen later, nobi would’ve never let that baby enter her home.

it all started when kazuki, her older brother, needed someone to look after his daughter since him and his wife were going overseas for a week-long medical conference. unfortunately, the grandparents were also out of the country since the youngest child, maiya, had a chess tournament in China and needed her guardians.

that only left him with his other sister, sakura, or most commonly known to the world as Nobi of BTS.

with the ring of cellphone and the familiar ringtone dedicated just for her oldest sibling, nobi placed the washing gloves down and retrieved the phone that was on the counter to squish it between her ear and shoulder. 

“welcome to chili’s, how may I help you?” 

a burst of laughter from the other side caused a smile on her face. “table for 4, please!”

she froze, “WHAT!? HANA IS PREGNANT!? AGAIN!?”

“WHAT!? NO! IT’S FOR THE DOG! WOONGIE THE DOGGIE!”

a relieved sigh passed through her, “dear asahi, please don’t scare me like that again.”

“i mean... my favor might?”

with that sentence, nobi should’ve declined and hung up without a second thought. but as the loving and dependable little sister she was, she pressed farther and asked what for.

“you see... hana and i need to go to germany for some conference and we can’t take nanako since we’ll be in workshops all day. ma and pa are with maiya in China for chess so it only leaves you.”

“wOW, i’M the lAST rESoRt?!” An outraged yell from her caught the attention of jin, jungkook, and jimin, who were lounging in the living room.

“please, kura,” he begged and she sighed. “you love nanako, don’t you? besides! jungkook’s there and i trust him, so you have someone for help!”

“i haven’t even seen the kid since she was born not even a year ago. and jungkook’s a man-child.”

“but you still like her. and him.”

“eh, if she’s 50% of you then maybe i don’t. and he’s a handful already so adding an actual baby will be a pain.”

“kura! please!” 

the loud voice from her sister-in-law made her cringe and back her ear away. jungkook is familiar with the voices in her phone since he roomed with her and she called her brother and his wife often. 

“please take care of nanako!” she yelled and hung up, not even giving nobi time to protest.

nobi cursed under her breath and finished putting the last plate on the rack before wiping her hands and walking over to join the rest. jungkook scooted to the side so she could sit next to him and she curled up on his side since he opened up his right arm.

“what’s up?” jin asked as he placed an UNO wild card on the table during the heated match the boys had.

“kazuki wants me to take care of his brat,” she complained. “didn’t even give me any say in it.”

“ah, it’s okay! jin-hyung knows how to take care of them!” jimin reassured, not looking up from his 5 cards.

“um, not really?” the oldest asked unsurely.

“how old is the kid?”

“she’s turning one in 5 months.”

“aren’t you happy kazuki finally settled down, though?” hobi’s question made her shrug.

“i mean, the parents have been bugging him since he turned 23 to find a girlfriend. the guy married his first ever girlfriend and had a kid with her!” she exclaimed. “to be honest, i really thought he was paying her to act as his lover but apparently not!”

“can you imagine being so desperate to buy a fake girlfriend?” yoongi mumbled making her laugh.

“use that one,” nobi nudged yoongi with her toe pointing to the card. “also, jin-hyung didn’t change any of our diapers.”

“but wouldn’t a baby be easier than raising 4 teenagers?” namjoon said and nobi looked up from jungkook’s chest.

“well, i guess it won’t be that bad if i have help.”

“speak for yourself,” yoongi mumbled to which she playfully jabbed his side.

 “anyways. if their kid goes missing, it’s not my fault because i was forced in this situation.”

jungkook tightened his arm around her. “think of this as a trial-run, bub. since you never took care of your sister, you don’t really know if you’re good with kids or not. maybe you’re like the ultimate mother master.”

she giggled, “nah. suffering 9 months for a demon and being responsible for it for 18 more years? can’t even handle myself.”

...

true to her word, nobi really can’t look after herself, much less with a kid. the doorbell rang meaning they were outside and had the little demon to take care of waiting. she tripped over some of kook’s shoes on the floor and she stubbed her toe against the door frame in a hurry to answer the door.

when kazuki dropped off his baby girl, nobi begrudgingly took the carrier from hana’s hands and snarled when kazuki sent an victorious smile.

“it’s only for 7 days, kura.”

“you know what could happen in those 7 days?! anything can happen in that time period! i wrote an entire album in a week! what’s to say i won’t do something to the brat!” her whines made kazuki roll his eyes before thumping her on the forehead.

“you big dummy,” he mused. “it’ll be fine. besides, hana put in about 7 pages of instructions there for you just in case.” she followed his finger that was pointing to the bag on her arm.

“honestly, are you my brother?” she asked, irritated. “since when do you see me reading instructions?”

“when you’re handling a tiny human and you won’t have anyone there to help you. that’s when.”

the boys were huddled around the carrier in the middle of the parlor, absolutely smitten with chubby cheeks of the baby and the little puffs of air she let out. sleep was heavy on her and her tiny fist clenched the baby blue blanket that her mother knitted her.

nobi was sorting out the baby powder and the nappies at the kitchen while jungkook squeezed some of the milk on his arm to test the temperature. he had assembled a crib in their room earlier and she placed all of the clothes into an emptied drawer that used to house her socks.

“sakura! how could you hate this little angel?!” jin squealed. 

“hyung! too loud!” jungkook chided and nobi laughed.

“she looks too much like maiya.” her answer didn’t reach the others ears since no one reacted. she leaned her hip against the island and crossed her arm, amused and watching the boys get hypnotized by nanako.

“can you believe a little munchkin, not even a year old, has all the members of bangtan wrapped around her tiny finger?” jungkook asked from behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

nobi leaned against his chest, “well, the guys love kids in general. even she has yoongi-hyung’s attention, the attention that is reserved only for his baby Holly.”

jimin saw nanako flutter her tiny eyes open and watched it widen at the sight of 6 unfamiliar faces. she must’ve been frightened at the foreign surrounding and the lack of her mother and father only added to the fear. soon, her wails filled the previously quiet dorm and the boys panicked.

“oi! eomma! appa! your baby is crying!” tae shouted and nobi rushed over from the nappies, kneeling quickly and hovering over the carrier.

“hello, darling,” she cooed. “have a nice nap?” nanako didn’t respond but her cries did quiet down a bit, blinking up at the familiar-looking person. nobi picked her up and placed her on her arms, fingers gently touching her cheeks.

jungkook came over with the ready bottle of milk and handed it to her so she could feed the baby. “here.”

the boys watched the 2 peer down at the suckling baby and they snapped up when someone’s camera shutter and camera flash went off. taehyung had his old camera, jin had his polaroid, while namjoon had his phone up, all with wide eyes as if they were just caught.

“oi! nanako is feeding!” jungkook scolded causing nobi and the others to laugh.

“wah, it’s like we’re looking into the future!” hobi whispered, shocked at the sight in front of him.

“joonie, look! our babies with their baby!”

nanako continued to feed, eventually finishing her entire bottle, and nobi passed her off to jungkook so he could burp her while she washes the bottle for the next feed. 

the guys shared a look and they grinned, relieved that taking care of this baby wasn’t going to be as bad as they thought.

...

eyebags and wrinkles were making their home in the faces of nobi and jungkook, victims of her irregular sleeping schedule. it was only the third day and her second night with them was the roughest time they’ve went through in a while. 

jungkook was slumped over at the dining table, sleeping and breakfast shoved to the side, and nobi was clutching her coffee cup and seemed to be sleeping with her eyes wide open. 

jin and namjoon were observing them with concern since they too were woken up by the loud cries of the child and they know the maknaes haven’t had a good sleep since the first night.

“kura?” jin poked her at the shoulder but received no response. “sakura?”

she jolted, wildly looking around as if she didn’t know where she was. “huh?”

her sudden movement woke jungkook up and he also looked out of sorts, eyes suddenly going wide. “the baby!”

“the baby!” nobi echoed before shooting up to stand but a hand stopped her.

“sshh,” namjoon soothed. “taehyung and jimin washed her already and are changing her right now. don’t worry, hoseok’s there with them.”

similar fatigue-laced eyes settled on the oldest and the leader as they sat back down, confusion and alarm slowly disappearing. jungkook groaned and started to slump over to go back to sleep but shot up when he heard the giggles from the devil herself.

“appa! nanako is here!” tae said in a child-like voice, carrying nanako with jimin and hobi trailing behind him.. “nanako is clean!” nanako saw jungkook and nobi and immediately wiggled to go to her temporary parents.

“nanako wants to see eomma!” jimin followed but nobi immediately shook her head.

“no!” she expressed, back away from the baby.

“aw, why?” tae pouted but smiled again when jungkook outstretched his arms.

“come here, my little munchkin,” he grunted. nanako found solace in his arms and she laid her head on his chest, as if she was listening to his steady heartbeat with her eyes closed.

nobi observed the girl’s calm behavior, slightly leaning forward to get a better look. “if only she was this peaceful last night.”

“hm, this is what parenthood is like, kids.” yoongi’s comment made the rest shiver.

“when was the last time you both slept longer than 3 hours?” jin asked as the amount of times he heard walking in their room was concerning.

“the night before she got here,” jungkook answered. 

“well, you’re lucky she’s only here for a week. next week, we have a meeting with Bang and we might start choreography classes then. it’s good that we won’t have a baby in tow.” 

everyone nodded at namjoon and at the mention of the meeting, hobi and yoongi dispersed to leave to their studios while the 95-liners were leaving to go to the gym to prepare their bodies for the grueling dances. namjoon was accompanying jin to the grocery store so it left the maknaes and the baby at home with no one else.

thankfully, the child was starting to fall asleep and nobi noticed jungkook fighting to keep his eyes open.

“come on, let’s go to bed.” her suggestion sparked a little life in jungkook and he carefully carried nanako to their bedroom where they could all get comfortable.

within seconds, nanako fell asleep and with the rise and fall of jungkook’s chest combined with his heartbeat made her slip into dreamworld quickly. jungkook was already snoring by the time nobi laid next to him and she hummed in content, happy that she was able to finally sleep.

...

their days continued on like that.

being fortunate enough to be on break, jungkook and nobi were able to sleep whenever they wanted since they were usually kept up by the energy that nanako only released at nighttime. 

but they weren’t the only ones suffering.

it was now clear that the lungs that sakura had was genetic as it also transferred over to her niece by the way she belted her cries, the boys jokingly singing along to it (cue bretman rock). at night, they have created ways to block out her cries like sleeping with airpods plugged in or on jimin and hoseok’s case, leaving for 3 nights to sleep in a hotel since their room was right next door.

however, tonight was especially bad.

nanako refused to drink her milk, instead crying and screaming the entire time she was awake. when she did sleep, she would eventually wake herself up and start the entire cycle again. nobi was getting worried because she only had 1 bottle of milk today and she didn’t want to be held or touched by anyone.

combined with the worry and the sleep deprivation, nobi was in tears, sobbing on the floor next to nanako’s crib, who was also crying, so together they had a crying session. everyone else was busy, even jungkook since he joined the others in the gym, so she was left to fend for herself and the baby wasn’t helping by refusing to take in any milk.

“nanako, please,” she begged. “one bottle, hm? just one bottle.”

nanako shook her head and cried louder making sakura wail more. maybe it wasn’t the ideal situation or the ideal move but nobi didn’t know what to do because she’s never taken cared of a baby before. initially, she called her brother to figure out how to solve the problem but neither of them were answering and the booklet had nothing on there on how to get her to drink.

honestly, of all things, that should be in there.

the two girls were so busy having their sobbing match that they completely missed the front door and jungkook’s greeting. the boy was in shock at the sight of nobi clutching the crib with nanako inside while they both cried their eyes out.

“bub,” he whispered before grabbing her to his arms.

“i don’t know why she won’t drink, kook. and i’m so tired,” she wailed and cried harder.

jungkook racked his brain on what to do until settling on a decision. “tell you what. go to bed and plug your airpods in so you could sleep while i take care of nanako.”

nobi started to protest because she knew he needed sleep too but he waved her off. the feeling of the plushness of her bed was so foreign to her now since she rarely had time to sleep on it and relish in the comfort. the loud lo-fi music drowned out the screams and wails of the baby, allowing her to finally slip into her own dreamland.

it was only about 2 hours that she woke up and she cursed, fearing that she has so suddenly created a new maternal sense in a span of 5 days.quickly sitting up, the panic in her chest soothed when she saw an empty bottle on the dresser and jungkook swaying with nanako cradled on his arms, sleeping. she gently pried the earbuds out of her ears and smiled softly at jungkook’s quiet singing, feeling relaxed herself.

“go to sleep, my little munchkin,” he whispered. “koo koo will be here when you wake up. i promise.”

nobi closed her eyes in gratitude and forced down a scream of gratitude to the lord and savior, god almighty, that nanako has eaten and finally fallen asleep. and jungkook was here.

jungkook noticed her rising figure and he sat down next to her, still cradling the baby.

“morning,” she grinned to which he returned. “how was she?”

“well, took a while to convince her to eat but she did and she just fell asleep.”

“you’ll be a great father someday, koo koo.” jungkook bashfully looked away to hide the smile that threatened to escape.

“nah, i just communicate with children better.”

“do you want a baby girl? or a baby boy?” 

a moment of thinking caused silence until he answered, “doesn’t matter. as long as i have my family.”

if she didn’t grow up with jungkook and didn’t see through his puberty and awkward and ugly moments, nobi might’ve just busted out a ring and married him then and there.

...

kazuki and hana were amused at the smiling face of the usually shy jungkook and the anger and irritation that radiated off of the girl beside him. the father gently took hold of his daughter from jungkook’s arms and she giggled, seemingly happy to see her father again.

hana placed a hand on nobi’s arm and squeezed in gratitude. “thank you so much, kura.”

nobi had no energy left in her to lie a smile so she sighed. “you’re really welcome. but she’s a handful. she kinda reminds me of maiya.”

kazuki laughed at the mention of their youngest sister. “you stayed with grandmother for a year because you hated her crying.”

“exactly.”

“she was really nice, hyung.” jungkook reassured the man. “loud, but sweet.”

“then she should be over any time, right?”

“during the day, yes.” but she made a cross with her arms. “but nighttime, is no no.”

“either way, thank you so much, sakura, jungkook-ssi.” hana gratefully said and the family finally moved to leave.

nanako, who had her head on her father’s shoulder, turned to peak at the two who were slowly getting farther away and raised a wobbly hand as if saying her good-byes.

“bye bye, my little munchkin!” jungkook yelled and she giggled, flapping her arms.

when they were out of sight, nobi sighed and felt the relief flowing through her veins.

“she’s an absolute adorable little baby. but if i have to spend another night with her, i will lose it.”

jungkook laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.

“again, it’s to prepare for the future, right? because i really want a munchkin of my own.”

a/n: don’t be silly, wrap your willy

[melodyalanaroster]

Glimpses

Warning: This is not for the faint of heart. This blurb has scenes that might trigger the reader. This blurb is VERY IMPORTANT to Alana’s Canon and parts of what is covered in here are mentioned in other blurbs. This simply goes into more detail.

“Please no! I don’t want to go!” Alana begged. “You have to.” Lynne sighed. “But, mom! Isn’t there anyone else who could do it! I don’t want to leave my friends! I can’t leave Nathaniel!” Alana’s voice wavered. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. You’re the only one free enough to be with me during this.” Lynne sighed. “I’ll try to make your living arrangements as comfortable as possible.” Nate attempted to boost Alana’s mood. “It doesn’t matter how comfortable my living arrangements are! What matters is that mom is sick and I’m being ripped away from my friends and the one I love to go half way around the world and watch my mother’s illness!” Alana cried.

★

Alana stood in Agatha’s back yard. Her friends from Amouria sadly standing around. “Look! It’s not goodbye! We’ll all be together again one day!” Rosalaya cheered. “I don’t wanna go.” Alana sighed. “We’ll make it through this.” Nathaniel kissed her forehead. “I’ve got an idea! Let’s do presents!” Alexy attempted to smile. “Presents?” Alana asked. “Yeah. We all got stuff for you to remember us by!” Alexy replied. Alana lead them to the outdoor living space and sat down. Once everyone was seated, Rosalaya handed Alana a box. “The girls, Alexy and I have been working on this since you first told us you had to leave.” Rosalaya beamed. Alana opened the box and picked up the book that was inside. She looked through the pages and saw that it was all photos, drawings, poetry, stories and flattened items. “This is wonderful! Thank you!” Alana began to tear up as she set the book down on the table. “I guess it’s my turn.” Armin smiled as he stood up and handed a box to Alana. She opened the parcel and smiled. Inside was an Ocarina and a book on how to play it with songs. “I know you’re not that in to Zelda... But, maybe you can learn how to play “Lugia’s Song” with it.” He explained. “I promise, I’ll learn it. Thank you!” She grinned. She sat the Ocarina box on top of the album. Castiel and Lysander stood up and handed her two boxes. “They go together.” Lysander smiled. “Hopefully this will help it seem like we’re not so far away.” Castiel looked down and attempted to force himself to look cheery. “Its okay Cass. Don’t fake it.” Alana sighed. Castiel looked away and followed Lysander back to their seats. Alana opened Castiel’s package first and looked at it. “A CD?” She asked. “It’s all original songs. We found a recording studio that let us do it.” Lysander smiled. Alana’s eyes widened. “You got a band together just so I can hear you?” She asked. “Yeah.” Castiel grinned. “Open the one I gave you.” Lysander insisted. Alana opened the other box. She picked the item up and looked at it. “The lyrics to the songs that are on the CD, as well as personal notes are in it.” Lysander smiled. The item in her hand was one of Lysander’s notebooks. “It’s gonna be weird not helping you find or remember where you put these.” She grinned. “I know. And, normally, I wouldn’t give this out... But, I hope it will bring you comfort.” Lysander cooed.

After Alana opened all of their presents and thanked everyone, Rosalaya began asking Nathaniel what he got for her. “It’s a surprise. I’m gonna be one of the ones taking her to the airport, so, I’ve got a lot more time with her.” He replied as he gave Alana a loving look.

★

“Your mother is making progress, but she’s going to be somewhat immuno-compromised for the rest of her life.” The nurse explained as she and Alana stood outside the hospital room. “So, what does that mean?” Alana asked. “It means that her immune system is permanently impaired. I suggest that you tell her manager and publicist that she will have to limit her work and touring for a while.” the nurse explained. “I’ll have to discuss things with my step-father and the rest of my family. Mom’s publicist and manager will be quite angry. And don’t get me started on how her fans will react.” Alana began to stutter. “Surely they can’t be that bad.” The nurse commented. “Never underestimate the power of fandom. They all have their toxic sides. And not all of them are the most understanding people.” Alana explained.

★

“Well, you have two options. You could spend thousands of dollars to get rid of the clot, but his leg is already dead. His quality of life would be very poor, and the only way he wouldn’t be in pain would because of all the medicine he’d be taking. Or, you could euthanize him.” The vet spoke solemnly. Alana looked at him, shocked, then at the cat. “So, it’s either spend a ton of money for him to be alive but in pain, or let him die?” She had done her best to hold back tears, but one made its way through and slid down her cheek. “To put it plainly, yes.” the vet replied. She could tell Sylvester was in a lot of pain. She ran her hand along the cat’s body and thought for a minute. She desperately wanted to keep him alive, but she knew that it would be inhumane and selfish. “I don’t want to lose him... But I don’t want him to be in pain anymore...” Her voice wavered as more tears began to slide down her cheeks. He looked at her tired. She did her best to muster up an ounce of courage. “He may be “my” cat, but I know the family loves him. None of them would want me to let him live a life of pain... So, if it’s the only way for him to be free from this agony... T-Then it’s time to let him go.”

★

Alana sat at her desk working on her college work when her phone rings.

“Hello Carol.”                    “Melody! What is this about your mom not being able to tour as much when she gets better?” “Look, even with the best medicine that money can buy, her immune system is going to be permanently impaired. She’ll still be able to write and do things, but she’s going to have to be extra cautious.”                  “But her fans are expecting her to return to normal!” “Yeah, I’m aware of that. I’ve even told the medical team that this is going to be a road block. The fact is, her fans are going to have to get over it. If they truly care about her works, then they will understand. If they’re still irate about it, they can jump off a cliff for all I care.”                 -Carol scoffs- “Melody! You are supposed to be Lynne’s “Sweet Daughter!” don’t talk like your sister!” -Alana clenches her fists- “You know what? The last time I checked, YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER! And, I don’t think that mom would appreciate her manager barking orders at me the way you do! Now, I am Melody Roster. I am my mother’s daughter! And if she and Sam have right to be upset and rude at times, then so do I!”                 “Melody!” “No! I have just told you that the literal TEAM of doctors, nurses and experts who are making sure my mom gets better have told me that she won’t be the same after this and you continue to complain as if its something I can magically fix! I expected this from the fans! But you? That makes this thing even worse!”

Alana hung up the call, plugged her phone into her computer, got onto video chat and called two people.

Nate: “Hey kiddo!” Verity: “Hey sweetie!” Alana plays the recording of her phone call with Carol. Nate and Verity are visibly upset. Alana: “Can we PLEASE get mom a new manager?!” Nate: “This is unacceptable!” Verity: “How dare she! How could anyone think that this kind of behavior is okay?” Nate: “Verity, if you help me, it shouldn’t take long for Carol to be dealt with.” Verity: “Of course I will! We mustn’t stand for this!’ Alana: “Thank you! I love ya’ll!”

★

Alana messages her friends.

“Rosa? Are you there? I need someone to talk to.” “Rosa? It’s been a couple of weeks. I haven’t heard from you, please, talk to me.” “Rosa, have I done something wrong? Please respond.” “Rosa, I miss you.”

“Leigh? It’s Alana. Rosa isn’t responding to my messages. Can you tell her I miss her?”                    “I will.”

“Alexy, are you okay? How are things at home?” “Alexy, can we talk?” “Alexy, Rosalaya isn’t talking to me. I hope you answer.” “Alexy, have I upset you?” “Alexy...”

                “Hey Alana! How are you doing?” “Hey Armin! I’m not doing so well....”                 “What’s wrong? Is your mom not doing well?” “Eh... It seems like she’s in limbo for a moment. She’s still conscious, and they’re working on getting her better. Nate, Viktor and Severina are doing everything in their power to get her the best medicine possible, so she’s not going to die.”                 “That’s good. I heard about Sylvester. I’m sorry you lost him.” “Thanks. With him gone, it’s been even more lonely around here.”                 “I bet. Are you still talking to everyone? Nathaniel said that you two are still video chatting and texting every day.” “Nath, Cass, Lysander, Priya, Viktor, Severina, the family and you are all still talking to me as much as ya’ll can... But, it seems Rosa and Alex have cut me off...”               “What? I thought they were always talking to you.” “No, it’s been weeks. I’ll send you the screenshots.”               “That’s wrong. I’ll see what I can do.” “Thanks.”               “Anytime.”

★

“PLEASE! LET ME GO! PLEASE!” Alana cried as the men surrounded her, pinning her against a wall and grabbing at her clothes. Suddenly a figure burst onto the scene. “Harming an innocent young woman. How pathetic!” it was a woman’s voice. “GET LOST YOU BITCH! UNLESS YOU WANNA GET HURT OR JOIN THIS LITTLE SLUT!” One of the men called as they returned their attention to Alana. “HELP ME!” Alana screamed. The woman ran towards Alana’s attackers and knocked them away. “My entrance to the scene was a warning. You had time to get away from this young girl. Now, you will face my wrath.” She began kicking and punching the men with great precision. In her terror, Alana fell back against a wall. As the woman continued to fight the men, Alana couldn’t help but be reminded of the leather clad, weapon wielding, heroines of the movies that she and her mother enjoyed. As the woman pulled out a gun, a higher wave of terror washed over Alana. “She’s going to kill them!” Her mind said. The woman aimed for each man’s neck and shot. Once every man was on the ground, the woman looked at her and began walking towards her. “It’s okay. I’m not going to harm you.” She said. Alana looked at the woman, then at the men on the ground, then back at the woman. “Don’t worry. I simply tranquilized them. They will not die here.” The woman reassured. “Who are you?” Alana asked. The woman took her cloak off and wrapped it around Alana. “I am Azrael.”

★

“It has been decided that you four will become the Red Death Regimen’s newest team in the Senior Staff. You will now be known as the Crown Jewels and will work with the Executioners. You will be the hand of mercy while they are the hand of death.” The Red Death announced. Renee raised her hand. “Yes.” The Red Death called. “Then why are we receiving combat training?” She asked. “Because, the more you know about how to kill someone, the better you’ll understand about how to save the innocent and harm the guilty.” The Red Death replied.

★

The Red Death stormed into Azrael’s office. “YOU DID WHAT?!” He boomed. Azrael looked at her husband. “I just ended Melody’s relationship.” Her voice was frank. “There was a plan to bring Mr. Jacott here to keep him safe while she trains. You knew that!” The Red Death was fuming. “Melody must learn that this world isn’t fair. That life is full of shit and she must rise from the ashes.” Azrael remarked. “She already knew that. All you’ve done is rip the last shred of her happiness away from her. Helena, this will not end well for you. You’ve taken a young woman who is already depressed from her recent experiences and broken her heart.” The Red Death’s voice was solemn. Azrael scoffed. “It will be fine Henry. Once she’s completely broken, I’ll put her back together.”

★

“Drink it.” The Red Death demanded as he handed a bottle to Alana. “What is it?” She asked. “It’s a shake. It contains all your daily nutrients in it. If you’re “too depressed” to eat, then the least you can do is drink these shakes.” He explained. “What’s the point? I don’t have my friends. My family is far away. I don’t even have my love.” She whined. The Red Death sighed. “Because you’ll be running towards them eventually and you need to have your base strength.” His voice maintained its sternness. “What do you mean?” She asked. “You’ll know in due time. For now, focus on crawling out of the abyss.” He replied.

★

Alana walked through the halls of the Base, shake in hand. Suddenly, a smell made its way to her nose. She breathed the smell in, closed her eyes, and leaned against a wall. Memories of the smell flooded her mind. “Mom.” She thought. She dropped the shake and began walking in the direction of the scent. When she reached the place of the scent’s origin, she realized she was standing before the kitchen door. When she opened the door, she saw her mother standing over the oven. “M-Mom?” She muttered as she walked closer to Lynne. “It’s me, sweetie.” Lynne greeted as she looked at her. Alana looked at what Lynne was cooking. “Quesadillas.” She muttered. “Come on sweetie, sit down.” Lynne cooed. “What are you doing here?” Alana asked. “The Red Death brought me here. He said it would do you some good to have me around.” Lynne explained. “I’ve missed you Mom.” Alana whimpered as a tear rolled down her cheek. She noticed the fajita beef on the plate that her mother was working on, and took a piece. “I’ve missed you too, my love.” Lynne replied as she continued cooking.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and someone stepped through it. “That smells delicious!” the person said. Lynne looked up and became enraged. “Your husband told me that I wouldn’t see you during my visit, Azrael.” Her voice was low and solemn. “I know, I just couldn’t help myself! The smell was just too good!” Azrael smiled. “This food is for MY daughter. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get as far away from me as possible.” Lynne snarled. “Remember, you’re in MY base! I can do whatever I want!” Azrael’s smile began to fade. “REMEMBER, MY daughter is in your care, and you have completely disregarded her well being for your personal gain!” Lynne’s snarling became more fierce as she reached for a large knife. As she walked over to Azrael, she began to hold the knife higher. When she reached Azrael, her eyes burned in to the woman and she pointed the knife to her throat. “I have no intention of shedding blood today, but if I must do so to protect my daughter, I will. So, I will say this one last time, GET AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS POSSIBLE!”

★ 

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Alana stared at the screen as her mother’s face looked grim. “Your friend Lysander.... His parents have died.” Lynne explained. “WHAT! Oh my gosh!” Alana stepped back in horror. “I reached out to him. Apparently he’s intending on taking over his family’s farm. He said he’d like you to be at the funeral.” Lynne replied. Alana looked down. “I can’t leave the base right now. We’re about to go on an important mission.” She sighed. “I’ll make sure that the Ainsworth boys get our sympathies.” Lynne sighed. “Can you make sure to either make food or have food made for them?” Alana requested. “Why can’t you just come to the funeral? Surely the Red Death and Azrael will understand.” Lynne asked. “You know why.” Alana replied. She looked at the notebook Lysander gave her, a wave of sadness overtaking her. “I wish I could go be with him. I know he needs his friends right now... But you know what that might do. I’m not in a position to be able to protect him.” She explained. 

★

“SARGENT BROWN YOU ARE HEREBY DEMOTED TO PRIVATE!” General Stark barked. Evan stood in front of his mates, his face the perfect image of horror and disbelief. “Why?” He asked. “Since being sent to the R.D.R base for special training, your conduct has been extremely unprofessional. You have harassed and disrespected Lady Melody to the point that the Red Death has considered issuing the death penalty. You should be grateful that Lady Melody simply suggested demotion.” General Stark looked disappointed. “We told you to leave her alone!”, “Idiot!”, “Actually thought he stood a chance with The Patron Saint Of Lost Children!”, “She told you to you’re not worth her time and you didn’t take the hint!”, a few of the other soldiers called. “But, I’ve known Alana since she and her sister were in High School! They’re friends with my brothers! Her sister is dating my best friend!” Evan called as horror began to overcome him. “Best friend?” a voice called. The soldiers looked in the direction of the voice. “Brigadier General Roster, Major General Rogers.” General Stark greeted. “Good afternoon General.” Kentin nodded before turning back to Evan. “Let’s go for a walk.” He growled.

As the three of them realized that they had privacy, Kentin hit Evan upside the head. “Idiot. All you had to do was leave her alone. That’s it! Complete your special training and leave Alana alone! But, you couldn’t even do that!” He scolded. “But, she’s Alana. I’m allowed to be casual with her.” Evan stood there in disbelief. “No, you’re not. She made it very clear that she doesn’t care for you. Your own peers told you not to mess with her. You were warned multiple times. The Red Death was serious about bringing up the death penalty. He protects the Crown Jewels and Executioners as if they were his own children and he’s insanely protective towards Mels. You ignored your training because of your obsession with trying to get my sister to notice you. Haven’t you even thought about the fact that what she’s become has made it to where she can’t talk to Alexy and Armin? Are you so dense that you can’t be bothered to realize that her break up with Nathaniel was not because she doesn’t love him anymore? I thought we got this through to you when you visited us at Sweet Amoris, but when someone says “No.” that means “No.”.” Sam scolded. “You’ve caused issue between the two organizations and because of that, it’s dragged us through the mud. What made you think that this was okay? I get it, you recognized Alana... But you were made aware of her position instantly. Sam and I can be casual with her because we’re family, but you knew you had to respect her and you completely disregarded it.” Kentin added. “Come on! Surely this doesn’t warrant demotion and isolation!” Evan protested. “You harassed a Crown Jewel and neglected your orders! Of course it does!” Kentin hissed. “As it is, knowing The Red Death, he’s gonna do more than just have the Military demote you. Mels has told him not to have you executed, but he can, and will, probably still ban you from R.D.R premises.” Sam concurred. 

★ 

“YOU BITCH!” Alana screamed as she ran up to Azrael and threw her out of a window. Alana used her tech to get to the ground safely. Azrael got to her feet, but before she could counterattack, Alana was already charging towards her. “YOU ENDED THE LAST GOOD THING I HAD BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO BE COMPLETELY BROKEN SO YOU COULD PUT ME BACK TOGETHER THE WAY YOU WANTED ME TO BE!” Alana lashed at Azrael in every way possible. “You wanted to become stronger! I did it to make you strong! You had to have nothing so you could build yourself up!” Azrael did her best to defend herself from the flaring ball of rage that Alana had become. “I WANTED TO BECOME STRONGER, I DIDN’T WANT TO BECOME YOUR WEAPON! EVEN THE RED DEATH KNEW I NEEDED AT LEAST SOMETHING!” Alana’s movements were erratic, yet focused on her target. Azrael’s eyes widened as she attempted to stop the attack. Alana noticed Azrael’s gun had fallen on the ground, so she picked it up and shot a tranquilizer into Azrael’s leg. As her teacher fell to the ground, Alana’s glasses activated, however, her pupils were red, instead of blue. The scene had drawn a crowd. “Why is no one stopping her?”, “Stop this!”, “Why have you not ordered Lady Melody’s death for committing treason!” people called. 

Alana shot another dart into Azrael’s other leg. Azrael began using her arms to try to crawl away. Alana shot a dart into Azrael’s arm, threw the gun to her side, then stood over her, her foot holding the remaining arm down. Azrael looked pitiful, a broken woman covered in blood, bruises and cuts. Alana grabbed a knife from her pocket, knelt down and looked at the woman. “Go ahead. Kill me. You’ll finally get what you’ve wanted. You’ll finally be executed.” Azrael breathed. Alana stared into Azrael’s eyes, contemplating her next move. She could hear people yelling at her and begging the Red Death to stop her. “I can take the shot, sir!”, someone said. “If you shoot Melody, you will be executed.” the Red Death solemnly stated. Alana continued to stare into Azrael’s eyes. A little voice in her head began making itself known. “Yes! Do it! She deserves it! Mom is well now, if that bitch hadn’t of broken you, you’d probably be home with Nathaniel and everyone! She deserves this!”. The dots in her lenses maintained their intense, red, color.  She raised the knife over Azrael’s right eye. “The entire time, I trusted you. I wanted to get stronger. I wanted to thank you for saving me in that alleyway.... But you were using me. You were turning me into the weapon you wanted! You didn’t care about me! You don’t care about any of us! Why else would you overstep your boundaries?!” She yelled. The little voice in her head continued to talk “Why are you not ending her? Come on! Why are you not getting your, much deserved, revenge?” it asked. “Don’t care about you? I gave you power. I gave you abilities that you wouldn’t have had before. You are now someone that no one will mess with.” Azrael sneered. “You’ve broken my heart, mind, and body. And, in the process of all that, you’ve attempted to destroy my soul. How is it that, even after actually killing people, and training a group of killers, that the Red Death has more heart and soul than you? You made us into monsters, but he has kept our souls intact.” Alana replied. “SHUT UP AND KILL HER!” the voice in her head screamed. She stood up, threw the knife away from them, and pressed her foot against Azrael’s throat, lightly. She then pressed a button on the bridge of her glasses, causing her lenses to clear.

“You are a demon, Azrael. While I should not allow demons to live, you are a special case. Killing you would destroy my humanity... Something I know you’d love to be the reason for. However, death is a mercy that you do not deserve and I refuse to give you the satisfaction.”

★

“I can’t believe you’re actually rewarding her for the countless acts of treason she’s committed against me!” Azrael yelled as the door shut behind her. The Red Death sighed and lit his cigarette. His jade green eyes looked exhausted. “Countless? Wife, you mean one. One act of high treason... That you know, full well, you caused.” He began. Azrael opened her mouth, but before she could talk, the Red Death put his hand up. “Helena, I told you that this would not end well for you and I was right. I began doing my damnedest to counter the damage you’ve inflicted upon Melody the day you ended things between her and Mr. Jacott. I was the one who set up her therapy sessions, who kept her from dying when she refused to eat, who brought her mother here to aid her recovery... Hell, I even got her that new cat. All you’ve done is harm her. You were much more benevolent with Renee, Veronica and Lyra. But with Melody, you started out nurturing then you became torturous.” He continued. “I nurtured her! She quickly became one of our best agents! Her grades in college never faltered, even with the rigorous training!” Azrael argued. “No, you’ve made it clear that the freedom you promised her came with one hell of a price. One, a girl in her position, shouldn’t be put through. You knew she was broken and scared and you took advantage of that.” he replied. “How does that warrant a reward? The apartment at the top of the Black Tower is meant for us!” Azrael argued. “Not anymore. I discussed things with the U.N.. They agree that it would be more appropriate for our home to be in the heart of the tower and that Melody should have the apartment at the top. So, I’m having her turn that place into Death’s Domain.” he explained. “Why did you bring the United Nations into our business?!” Azrael asked shocked. “Helena, our organization is on the brink of a civil war. There are a lot of people who want to see Melody completely overthrow you. Just as there are a lot of people who want to see you execute her. The humane thing is for her to have her own base in the Black Tower and let her become a weapon that is never used. The U.N. agrees that what you did to her was horrific and that my plan for her will be best. They want to see what she will do when she’s able to do what she wants.” The Red Death blew a plume of smoke out of his mouth and tapped the cigarette on the edge of the ash tray. “Melody wants to be executed!” Azrael yelled. Her husband sighed. “Really? If she truly wanted that, she would have done something far worse when she had the chance. No, she wants freedom. Something the U.N. and I are willing to give her. She’s earned it.”

After a couple of hours of discussion, Azrael had begun pacing around the room. “And what will happen with me? The world does not need to find out that the leader of the Crown Jewels isn’t loyal to me.” She asked. “That has already been decided. I’m going to tell Melody that she only has to answer and be respectful to you in public... To save face. The entire organization and the U.N. knows where her real loyalty lies.” he replied. “And the Roster Family?” she asked. “Lynne is already aware of the plan. She approves of it.” The Red Death leaned back in his seat. “Well, I guess it’s time to promote a Paladin.” Azrael sighed. “I’m sure Melody will choose Nora. Out of all of the Paladins, she’s the one Melody has gotten the closest to. I approve of this. The Crown Jewels will need another strategist whenever Melody isn’t around and Nora is the best strategist in her team.” he explained. “Then I don’t want to promote her!” Azrael whined. The Red Death lit another cigarette. “Too bad. At this point, you’re more of a figurehead. The U.N. won’t answer to you as they see you as too corrupt. To keep you in your position, I must jump through many flaming hoops.”

★

The Red Death stormed in to the Control Room. “WHAT HAPPENED!” he snarled. “We’ve been hacked!” Veronica called. “We’re searching for the hacker!” one of her underlings added. Alana walked into the room. “What did they do?” She asked. “From what I can tell, they simply looked around.” Veronica replied. “How long until we know precisely what they wanted to see?” Alana asked. “It shouldn’t take long. We’ve got half the team going through our systems to find out how they got in and what they were looking for, and the other half of the team is looking for who did it.” Veronica explained. The Red Death looked around the room at all the screens. “FIND THEM!”

“Sir! We’ve found out who hacked us!” Veronica called. “Was it an enemy organization?” Alana asked. “A cartel? A human trafficking ring?” Derek asked. “No, it was an individual.” Veronica replied. “Did you find out what they wanted? Did they take anything?” Alana asked. “No, they didn’t take anything. It seems like they just looked around... It’s as if this person just wanted to see if they COULD hack our systems.” Veronica explained. The Red Death thought for a minute. “Send a team to bring them here. We will deal with this individual ourselves.” He ordered.

The Red Death, Azrael, the Crown Jewels, the Executioners and the Paladins filled the circular court room. Nora brought the prisoner into the center of the room and forced them to their knees. “You have committed quite the crime. Thinking you could hack into our systems and get away with it.” The Red Death began. The prisoner tried to speak, but the only noise that came out was muffled. “SILENCE!” The Red Death ordered. The prisoner froze. “You may not have stolen anything, but the fact that you simply stayed in our systems long enough to look around at our information is a grave mistake. Nora, show me his face.” He commanded. Nora took the bag off of the prisoner’s head. Alana instantly froze with fear. “No, not him!” She thought. The Red Death rose to his feet. “THERE IS ONLY ONE PENALTY FOR SUCH A CRIME. We cannot have you walking around with our secrets in your head!” He began. Alana rose to her feet, walked towards the end of the seats, jumped down to the ground and started walking towards the prisoner. The prisoner looked at her, his eyes widened in shock. “Alana.” He gasped. Alana pushed the prisoner back and stood in front of him. “MELODY! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!” The Red Death called. “Just another act of insubordination! How’s it feel, husband?” Azrael remarked. Alana looked at the Red Death with conviction. “You said that under the articles of Protocol 714, the list of people written under the Protection Act are immune. Armin is one of the ones listed! Yes, he hacked our systems, but, if he can do it, then so could one of our enemies. He did us a service by showing us a weakness in our security... And I will not let you kill him!” She announced. Veronica looked on her tablet for a minute. “Sir, she’s right, this guy’s name and picture are in our database for that.” She stated. “Are you going to allow her to continue her insubordination?” Azrael asked. The Red Death looked down and thought for a minute. “What do you suppose we do, Melody?” He asked. “I suggest we have him show us how he got in and then tell us how we can boost our security. As for after that, don’t we have several cyber security companies under us?” Alana asked. “Yes, we do. One of which is in a country near your home country. Just a few hour’s drive from Amouria.” Veronica replied. “We can give him a job there. It keeps him just visible enough to seem normal, but still have him work under us, thus, keeping our secrets safe.” Alana stated. The Red Death pondered for a moment, then looked at Armin. “ON YOUR FEET.” He ordered. Armin got up and stood in front of Alana. “It seems that you won’t be dying today.... The ONLY reason for that is that you’re protected by one of the Crown Jewels. For that, you owe her your life. To repay this debt, you will go along with Melody’s suggestion, and you will not speak of any of this to a single soul. Should you break privacy, I will negate the Protection Act and end you.” The Red Death announced. “Yes, Sir!” Armin, sheepishly, called back.

Everyone got up and began walking out of the court room. When Armin and Alana were alone, she grabbed his shirt and pinned him against a wall. “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING! YOU ALMOST GOT YOURSELF KILLED!” She hissed. “A-Alana! I’m s-sorry! I d-didn’t mean to!” He stuttered. “Damn it! I thought you were over this shit!” Alana let go of him and huffed. “I just wanted to see if I could do it! I had heard that their systems are the best in the world!” He stammered. “Of course, it had to be you. It could have been someone NOT on my list.... But no, it’s you...” She sighed. “A-Alana...” He began. “Don’t call me that. It’s not who I am around here. You may call me “Melody”, “Lady Melody” or “Mels”.” She interrupted. “But...” He attempted to continue. “Look, a lot of shit has happened since I went “off the grid”, Okay? Now, your mission is to do as I tell you so you can stay alive. And, seriously, you are now, officially, sworn to secrecy, ESPECIALLY about my identity. It’s not time for the world to know what I’ve become yet.” She explained. “So, what am I going to do?” He asked. Alana looked at him, her eyebrow raised. “Exactly what you’re told to do. You’re going to boost our security, then go work for an outer lying company that we own. This will allow you to, technically, live a normal life.” 

★

Alana sat at a desk, listening to music, and working on college work. “HEY MELS!” Derek burst into the room, happily. “Derek, if you interrupt me, I’m going to have to kick your ass.” She stated as she continued to type on her laptop. “But! Come on! I’ve had the perfect idea for what to watch in the Recuperation Room!” Derek announced. Alana sighed and pulled out one of her earbuds. “What?” She asked as she continued to work. “Let’s watch Hellsing Ultimate Abridged!” He suggested. “Didn’t we just watch that?” She asked. “YEAH, but the new episode is out!” He replied. She rolled her eyes. “Derek, Veronica and I are planning on continuing to watch Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron Blooded Orphans today.” She stated. “Awe! Come on! You two always cry while you watch that anime!” He whined. “It’s a really good, sad, anime. And we’re almost done with it. Let’s save Hellsing for after we finish so that Veronica and I can have something to lighten our moods.” She proposed. “Alright.” He looked disheartened. “Derek, don’t you have school work to get to?” She asked. Derek’s eyes shot up. “You forgot... Again.” She sighed. “SHIT!” He yelled as he ran out of the room. Alana put her earbud back in to her ear, continued working on her school work and sighed. “Dumbass.”

★

“Hey Mels! Listen to this!” Renee ran up to Alana, excitedly and put her headphones on Alana’s head. Alana’s eyes widened as she recognized the singer’s voice. “Isn’t it great?” Renee asked. “Y-Yeah.” Alana replied. “Castiel.” She thought. “It’s a band called Crowstorm. The lead singer is AMAZING. Apparently, they’re from your town.” Renee explained. “Cool.” Alana thought back to her CD. She remembered going to the school’s basement and hanging out with Castiel whenever Nathaniel had to do after school work and couldn’t hang out. She began to remember the conversations with Castiel, listening to him play his guitar, and, even his fights with Nathaniel. She couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over her. “Thanks Renee.” She grinned as she walked off.

★

Derek walked in to the Red Death’s office with a curious look on his face. “Sir, why are we not performing Purification in Amouria?” He asked. “I have my reasons.” The Red Death replied. “But, that’s basic protocol. Won’t something bad happen if we let the criminal activity continue?” Derek asked. “Are you really going to question my methods?” The Red Death asked. Derek looked down. “No, sir.” he sighed as he walked out of the office.

Henry Dearil sighed, opened his computer and looked at a file. “Because if we perform Purification now, HE will be caught in the line of fire. For Melody’s sake, we can’t have that.” He sighed. Staring back at him, on the screen, was a database of the known drug cartel members in Amouria. Next to a picture of a blonde haired, golden eyed, boy was a paragraph titled “NATHANIEL JACOTT”.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This blurb has been needed for a long time.

There is so much that I wanted to include in this... Things like scenes of Alana training, coordinating missions, saving people, going to therapy, the rare occasion of her spending time with family, and actually working on building stuff.... However, this would have been a lot longer than it is.

It was also originally gonna be a lot more brutal and gorey. I was originally planning on having Lynne stab Azrael in the collarbone during the Kitchen Scene. I was also originally planning on having Alana tear out Azrael’s right eye during the scene where she goes berserk. My original plan was for Alana to keep Azrael’s real eye in a vault in the Black Tower and have Azrael get a high tech prosthetic. I ended up going for the less brutal options in this because, when I went to write these, my original plans sounded too horrific and cliche. It also felt that, if I had done this, no amount of therapy and hard work would allow Alana to act as “normal” as she does by the time UL starts.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

29. The Altar of Grace

Previous Word Count: 4535

“Worship me,” Grace whispered, smiling. Hazel walked back into the room and she hung up the phone and set it aside. Simon didn’t call back. The commandment sounded final for the conversation. The challenge, hardly one at all. He did that every single day. With the exception of when he was at his sickest, backsliding, they would call it in the church - a problem that his mother often saw herself as having when she was younger, because she refused to ever acknowledge that maybe her problem wasn’t spiritual. She gave up even trying after they lost Hope. 

The Laurent family lost Hope, and Faith followed shortly after. But Simon? He found Grace. He was more used to the concept of grace than she was. The only time her family ever stepped foot in a church was for political reasons or at the very least public opinion. The little that Grace knew about any of that was stuff that she’d seen in media, and stuff that Simon had programmed inside of him. She’d once joked that he was going to start an Apex megachurch (there were megachurches all over California, and he had grown up in a church house), but the way that his mind went from outlining a few ground rules for the Apex to taking his knowledge of church legislature and formatting a very religious like experience in both praxis and adherence made her let the joke die off fast.

The Apex had been no joke to Simon. It had been, for lack of better comparison, his megachurch. At the center was Grace, and he worshiped at her altar, spreading the gospel of the Apex, the gospel of Grace. He wasn’t just making things up, in his mind. He was just telling others of his vision, of the world at her feet, of himself at her feet. The Bible often spoke of grace, but Simon was never sure of it before her, and once he was sure, his mind easily melded together the concept of grace with the incarnation that was Grace. She hadn’t asked for it. She was born into what she was. She had never really seemed to care one way or another about all of her faithful followers, the mass he organized at school, the branches of his discipleship that spread far and wide online. She had only ever cared about her chosen one. He was that. The one at the right hand of the throne of God, herself.

Grace’s commandment wasn’t unclear, nor was it new to him. It was simply her paraphrasing the Word of God, that he had always been familiar with to some extent. He had memorized verses in his youth. He had heard prayers throughout his life. He knew what she meant. He told her that he would do anything. Threw himself at her mercy to beg forgiveness. He was ready for her to give him his punishment, to give him his instruction, and her response, whether she realized it or not, was one wrapped up in the grace the preachers always spoke of. Because she gave him no punishment, just something that came as naturally to him as breathing - worship me… and she would give him what he was requesting… herself, which was everything he needed.

Sure, one could argue that this was the temptation of Satan. “All this I will give you, if you bow down and worship me.” Simon never believed in Satan. He didn’t really believe in God, either. But, the programming, the ritual, the practices… those were ingrained in him. He simply needed something to sit in the throne of his heart. He could see her there, as clearly as if she were in an actual throne… The was going to MAKE her an actual throne! 

Simon sat his phone down and went back to his workspace.

.

The weekend with Hazel was exactly what Grace needed to rediscover her equilibrium as single mother, independent woman, career lady, etc. Hazel was exhausted, but Grace was revived. Did she wish that she could still go for spontaneous jogs and not have to worry about leaving Hazel for a little bit? Sure, but she had an in home dance studio that she could work off just as much… toxicity. Simon hadn’t contacted her again. But, he was posting every day.

She wasn’t checking, but someone still to this day insisted on tagging her to things or sending her things. Some of these people HAD to make backup accounts, because no matter how many people her social media reps blocked for that, they continued coming. It was actually a few weeks later that she got a call from her contact assistant. She was in the middle of rehearsals for her next music video, as she was planning to finally release an album during her 23rd year. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“Hey, Grace… I don’t know how else to word this but to say that I’ve gotten several calls to ask you about Simon Laurent’s current… situation and it seems like one of his worst meltdowns yet.”

“What? I JUST saw and talked to Simon a few weeks ago for my birthday and he was fine. Although… his mom is dying, so he may be taking that harder than he wants people to know. Just, send them the statement that Simon and I aren’t close enough that I know what is happening with him at all times, but hopefully he will receive the help that he needs in this instance, just as before.”

“Of course that’s my general answer, but there are some very specific concerns that I believe would matter a little more to you.”

“Like?” Grace asked, worried. If Simon had done something violent, or mean, or explosive, she was ready to cut the cord. She had an album, a child, and her 23rd year, and she was not going to waste as much time as she had in the past on overlooking things.

“Well… The first one is the hashtag The Apex Resurrected… it makes people think that you and Simon are mending things, which many people have thought for months, ever since his birthday in California and the family trip in Belize. Now, there are others coming out with accounts of having seen you two in the Bronx for your birthday - the elevator incident at the club, a few crude videos of you… um… dancing with him that night… and now this, weeks later.”

“The Apex Resurrected? I actually haven’t had anything to do with the Apex in a very long time. The Apex became Simon’s and as far as I knew, it was still a thing amongst the stans. You can release the statement that I don’t know anything about that, nor am I interested in learning.”

“Got it. Next cause for concern - He seems to be collecting various professionals in the Apex, or old Apex, or whatever it is for various tasks. Architecture, and other things. He has been making announcements about making a throne, about worshipping you, and about how he backslid…”

Grace bit her lip, “Okay… I may know something about that. Okay. Ummm… I’ll talk to him about it. What else should I be on the alert about?” 

“He’s buying a place in Riverdale.”

“Did he get the job?”

“Nothing that I’ve found mentions his job, but that he is buying a house. Grace… That’s not that far from East Village… Is it possible that he knows where you are?”

“No. I’ve been extremely careful and Hazel has too, to not mention things that may give way to our neighborhood. But, he was staying in Riverdale a few weeks ago whenever he was here around my birthday, so maybe he just liked it.”

“Well, he’s been speaking about researching if he can grow hazel trees in New York, because he apparently wants those trees on the property, specifically.”

“Okay, that’s a little concerning, maybe.”

“Moreso whenever he begins to poll followers to ask what type of accommodations they would suggest for child quarters for a female presenting child between the ages of 10 and 13.”

“Okay, no. That’s very concerning.”

“People are speculating that the two of you are moving in with him, or at the very least will frequent his home.”

“Shut it down with a simple ‘I didn’t even know that he had found a place in New York.’ We don’t need to tell anyone about Hazel and I being secretive about our neighborhood, as that will probably make people more curious and for all I know, there are Apex people sprinkled around here. Give me a moment to call him, then I’ll call you back for further updates.”

Grace took a deep breath and called Simon. “Grace! I’m so happy to hear from you! I was afraid that I wasn’t doing enough.”

“Simon… from what I’ve heard, you’re doing way too much, Dude. What’s uh… what’s going on, on your end?” He held the phone for a while, confused. “Simon?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t understand the question.”

“Okay. Well, my rep called me to say that she’s being contacted by outlets that are concerned about some of your behavior lately. Are you… okay?”

“I’m better than I’ve been in years! Everything is returning to normal, going back to the way things are meant to be.”

“Well… Now, I’M the one who doesn’t understand. What do you mean by returning to normal?”

He laughed. “Grace. I asked you what I needed to do, and I heard you. You’ve missed it. Your power, your following, your praise… and I am going to give it all back to you. I’m going to elevate you again, the way that I used to, the way I never should have stopped… I worship you. That’s what you told me to do to fix this.” He sounded very desperate, but hopeful. He also sounded like he knew that saying this out loud to her… they had a miscommunication. “Grace.” She was silent, but he knew that she was still there, doubting him, doubting herself. “What’s wrong with it? What’s wrong with worshiping you? In my own way? It never caused us any pain before. That pain didn’t begin until my love was stifled, and twisted in ways that didn’t feel natural. Are you going to tell me that you don’t think about where we might have been if I had just been allowed to love you like I knew how?”

“What you called love became unbearable for me,” she said.

“It won’t this time! You control whether or not I even get to see or talk to you. I just have to be patient. I have to remember that it isn’t about me. I have to thirst for what you’re willing to give me.”

“Simon, that’s extremely unhealthy.”

“I’m never going to have a healthy relationship! My background, my childhood, my conditions… I’m always going to struggle with normalcy and reason. Relationships will always be difficult and strange… But, does that mean that I can never be happy? That you can’t? The things that have made us happy in the past were things that were so extra to everybody else. You’re just as unhealthy as I am, you were just forced to face that sooner than me. That’s why even though you could have any man in the world, probably any woman, if we’re honest, you haven’t let go of me. I’m always with you. Even when we were broken, beyond reasonable repair, both of us kept holding on to all those fragments. We… belong, Grace. We’re family.”

“Simon… Hazel is my family…”

“Too.” he said. “Hazel is your family, too.”

“We can never be what we were, Simon. Worship me… I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I was being playful. Treat me super nice and buy me things. Fool around a little when we both have time… not… rebuilding the poison that we were together.”

“That poison is who we are. Even with help. We're never going to fully get it out of our systems. We just are learning to live with it there. You rush to save me any time you think I need it. I defend you before I even know a full story. That worked for us, for you and I, until I got greedy. I wanted more, when everything was in perfect harmony. I know that now. I won’t do it again.” 

“Simon…”

“I’m making room for Hazel, as well. I’m not trying to take you back or move her aside. I want all of us…”

“In this poison???”

“Unfortunately, Grace… just like us, that kid was born into poison. But, look at how good for her you are, and how good for you she is… And yet… you still hold on to me. Why can’t it be all of us? Working together and healing together? Why can’t I worship you and love Hazel, too?”

“Because I already made the mistake of trusting you and it went miserably! It’s still affecting me, to this day!”

“I know. It maybe always will, just like your parents always will, just like things that will happen between you and Hazel eventually will. Everything in our lives affects us in different ways and I affected you in a really bad way when I knocked you off of your pedestal..”

“It was YOUR pedestal! I never ASKED you to be that person! Then, I had to try to fill shoes that I didn’t even want!”

“But you want them now. Tell me that you don’t want me to faithfully follow you, to do whatever you ask, to atone through my acts for you. Tell me in honesty that you didn’t mean anything by telling me what you told me, and I’ll leave you alone.” They were both silent for a while, then she heard him exhale, relieved. He knew he was right. “Grace… I won’t hurt you again. I swear on everything that we could be together.”

“I’ll… see where you’re trying to go with… whatever you’re doing right now. But, we can’t just go back to normal, Si. Sometimes, just the thought of your face enrages me. Sometimes, I want to visit you JUST to punch you in the gut. We’re not gonna be just okay, even if we work at it.”

“Okay. That’s better than nothing. I had a mom who attacked me every time she saw me. You have no idea what I’m willing to go through to be close to you.”

“Therapy. We should… engage in at least combined therapy, and that’s before jumping to any conclusions that we’re going to be friends again or whatever. Also, I need to talk to Hazel, to see how she feels about you and even the idea of us reconciling to restore friendship for real.”

“She approves,” he said. “She thinks her mom OUGHT to be worshipped.”

“I know you didn’t talk to my baby about this.”

“I asked her for your hand in worship.”

“Ugh. STOP TALKING. I’m gonna… give you a little bit of space while I speak to Hazel and my team.”

“I’m going to continue what I was doing.”

“Are you… sure you’re okay?”

“I feel like you’re trying to ask me about my mental health. I’m fine. I’ve started even seeing a grief counselor that my therapist suggested, for the situation with my mom. I’m going to ask him about a couple’s therapy plan, since that’s important to you. My most recent meds are agreeing with me. I promise… I’m not having an episode, just further epiphany. I want you to have what you were content to have before… do you remember?"

"No. I barely remember my order at my favorite Ethiopian food place."

"You had a wonderful person that you loved and wanted to spend all of your time with.” She vaguely remembered that conversation now. It had been so many years… She didn’t know if she remembered the feeling. She remembered that she had been honest that day, but she honestly couldn't even place herself in the headspace of her 15 year old self. Of… 10-20, even. She had a rebirth at some point. That Grace was dead, as far as she knew and realized… but… she dared to presume, and hoped to guess… maybe that Simon was dead too. The things that they went through still happened, but only in an anecdotal retelling. The man on the phone… she HAD shared a portion of life with him, as well. A sit down, a death scare, recalling their past, birthdays, a sexually gratifying (less traumatizing) entanglement… He was correct. She hadn’t been able to let him go. There was no way to explain it, but if she was going to latch on anyway, they might as well make the most of it.

“Are you in New York?”

“Yeah.”

“Same place as before?”

“No, that was a rental, but same neighborhood.” She could tell he was smiling.

“IF my talk with Hazel when she comes home from school goes in your favor, we’ll stop by with a housewarming present.”

“I would like that.”

“IF Hazel feels safe with it.”

“You’re a lot more afraid of me than Hazel is,” Simon said.

“I’m older and wiser than her.”

“Ehhh… Definitely older.”

“WOW! What part of worship is you roasting me?”

“You told me that your definition is be super nice, get you stuff and go down on you whenever you want… so… I feel like I can make fun of you whenever appropriate.” She blushed. “But, you’re wise. Just… maybe not as wise as Hazel.”

“Speaking of… the trees and trying to set up quarters or whatever… that’s a bit much.”

“I don’t think it is. If we’re going to be establishing a new normal, she’ll have to have as much space in my home as she does in her own. When have you ever known me to half ass something important? You and Hazel are important.”

Grace held the phone tightly. It… mattered that he said that. Regardless of her reservations, of his probable episode, and the sheer amount of nonsense that her rep told her was happening. It mattered that he told her that she was important. That they were.

.

Hazel and Simon seemed to have been plotting on her. Hazel was a little too comfortable with the thought of them “being friends” with Simon, with the thought of group therapy, home visits and the like, and her saying, “I’ve lived life as a turtle. I don’t think Simon’s episodes are any more peculiar than that,” only made Grace feel guilty about her immediate thoughts - that Simon was having some type of meltdown. 

Now that she thought about it, those usually began with him feeling very bad, but that 16th birthday party… that particular whatever it was began with a similar mood - Simon hearing what he wanted to hear, doing too much for her, being very excited about things that had NOT been promised to him. “This is the 16th Birthday Party level meltdown!” Grace said, when it occurred to her. “Abort!” She said. 

Hazel looked around the shop and then at her, “Abort buying Simon a housewarming gift?”

“Yes! We… are gonna ghost him!” 

“No… We’re not gonna ghost him, because that will take a 16th Birthday Party level Simon and send him into a Pre Hospital level Simon.”

“I just…”

“Grace, do you think that I’m ever going to stop turning into a turtle?”

“Yes. You do it less and less as time goes on.”

“But, what if I don’t? Will you stress out and worry and treat me like there’s no hope?”

“Hazel, that isn’t the same thing.”

“Simon had some type of psychosis going on whenever you two were going through that. He’s spoken about visions of the Void, and you know for a fact that some of the delusions that he projected had no prompting from you. But, he’s been in therapy for a few years and on meds, and doing everything that he can to make amends and clear your name. I know that he’s the one who messed it up in the first place, but look…” She took Grace’s hand and traced a scar on it. “I look at this a lot.” 

“My old scar?” Grace asked, chuckling. 

“My old bite mark,” Hazel corrected her. “You never seem to think that I’ll bite you again. Simon was doing bad and you don’t have to forgive him or trust him, but if you never will, you should tell him that, not ghost him. And if you won’t forgive him or trust him, it would be better to return to the format of a clean, easy break. What do you think of this hedgehog planter?”

Grace smiled, “I don’t think that fits Simon.”

“I meant for me. He’s really cute. I can put some herbs or a little succulent in there…” 

.

Eventually, Hazel decided on a mini lamp shaped like a white cat. It didn't look like Samantha, but she liked it for her anyway. Grace bought an attachable bidet. Simon was at home, shirtless, in some pajama bottoms and slippers that looked like wolf feet whenever he heard the door. He threw on a tanktop and opened up. “Happy Housewarming!” Hazel cheered. She was holding a gift bag with tissue paper stuffed in it and she pushed it forward.

“Thank you, Hazel!” Simon said. He accepted it and Hazel walked in, immediately going to Samantha so that she could come see the gift too. Simon and Grace were staring at each other. He turned towards Hazel, “Wow… this is a really cool lamp. It’s gonna go well with things too, because everything in here will be white or earth tones. Like the rental, but like… MY style stuff. I’ll give you a tour.” There were boxes still unpacked in each room, all labeled as the room that they were. The only thing set up so far was his workspace, bed, and master bathroom. But, he told them some of his plans for other space and rooms… and he really HAD thought of everything that Grace would have tried to think of if making space for herself or Hazel… even if she WASN’T planning on them ever living here. Hazel was excited about the prospect of a “second home.” ‘WE should help you throw a proper housewarming!” Hazel cheered. 

“Who would I invite to that?” Simon wondered.

“Grace’s friends!”

“No!” Grace and Simon both said, then laughed. 

“My friends, then… and their parents,” Hazel said. Simon looked to Grace for confirmation. She shrugged her shoulders. “In the event that Grace does not have an opinion on the matter, the natural response should be to seek out my opinion.”

“Okay. Then, you do that, then.” He smiled and leaned against the counter as Hazel started speaking of her decorating plans and other party details.

“You are going to unleash a monster,” Grace said.

“You’re one to talk. She was spoiled whenever I met her. I’m just matching the kid’s energy. What’s that?” He nudged his head.

“Oh! It’s a bidet. Didn’t know if you had one or not…”

“I do not and I do need one, so thank you!” He accepted it and set it aside. 

“So… Can… we maybe move her tea set here? You’ve got A LOT more space than my place and it isn’t so far away that it’d be a huge jump to host her tea parties here, if that’s okay?” Grace looked at Simon and saw him processing this question. He looked like he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but also couldn’t shield his excitement.

“Hazel is perfectly welcome to move her tea party set here and her friends are welcome to throw them here, as well.”

“I’ll be here. It won’t be like… me leaving her with you.”

“That’s even more fun,” He said. “Do you need me to rent a moving truck to get it here?”

“No… I’ll handle that part.” So… there was still a level of distrust. But, this was still very big for him and he was going to count his blessings. “Come on, Hazel! We’ll be back around.” 

“Bye, Simon! Thank you for the amazing quarters!” He walked them outside and to the car. Grace was reluctant to hug him or anything like that, but she smiled and wished him good night. Simon watched her drive away and looked up at the stars. It didn’t matter if anybody was there or nobody was. Hazel and Grace had made a decision to give him a chance. He didn’t know yet what, but he wasn’t going to let either of them down.

Whenever Grace and I were younger I used to give her tribute. That was what it was called. It started really simple. She defended me against some bullies and after we took care of them, I snatched a couple of things, as souvenirs for her. Then I just continued to do that all the time. I began to do it on a daily basis. I convinced others to do it too. It was never an obligation. She didn't ask me to give her something. She didn't demand that others paid her tribute. I made a conscious decision that she was worth that offering. I spread word to others about it. It was an act of worship. I built her altar with my own hands. I molded her believers with my words. If you asked me back then she owed me everything. 

Fortunately now I know better. I'm older, I like to think I'm wiser. It was always I who owed her. I owed her for defending me. I owed her for befriending me. I owed her for lowering herself to my level, even if she just did it so she wouldn't be alone. I thought too much of myself. Convince myself that I deserved everything that she had been gracious enough to give me. I didn't appreciate the value of my riches in Grace. 

Life has a way of working things out that aren't meant to be. I was never meant to be the king. Always the servant… Trusted, certainly. But there for the sake of the one who mattered the most. I did everything in my power to be on top. When something isn't meant for you, you can't take it away from someone else. In the process of flying too high, I made myself have to fly solo. Grace had been the wind beneath my wings that made me fly as high as I was flying. Without her there I fell. I crashed. 

She was too busy trying to keep herself elevated. She didn't even really witness it - the way that life gave her back what she deserved while I plummeted. She moved on to things on her level. She had chosen me to come with her. I tried to replace her. Now she's soaring, and all I can do is watch from the ground. Proudly, certainly. But forever with the knowledge that I was once next to her, that I could have stayed there had I not tried to snip her wings…

Next

[hazinhoodies]

If You Love Something… (H.H)

A/N: This is from a request i got super long ago. like over a year ago long ago.  I will say that it is much better than it would’ve been a year ago so to that anon that requested this, if you still follow me, here you go. also this is my first Harry fic i’ve posted.

Warnings: So much fluff bro. all fluff. so soft dude.

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: Fluff Harry request you were best friends, and ended up falling for each other but never told one another. Your friendship faded as time went on and then one day you saw each other and a spark flew between you two and you accepted the feelings you both denied since you were younger

Summary: If you love something, let it go. if it comes back...

Harry flips through the photo album. One of the ones that his mum kept on the top of the bookshelf in the living room. The albums filled with years of photos that only collected dust until one of three things happened. One: Someone comes home with a new girlfriend and mum wanted to embarrass them. Two: Family comes over and they want to reminisce. Three: Blackmail. Which happens to be exactly why Harry has the album sat in his lap, flipping through the pages. He’s looking for a very specific photo. One of him and Sam when they-

The thought completely slips his mind, no longer important once he glances past one photo. He double takes back to it and is filled with a sense of nostalgia and comfort. A comfort that almost immediately dislodges itself in his stomach, flipping around to a feeling that he can’t quite place. One he hasn’t felt in a while but leaves him yearning for some sort of resolution to rid him of the pit that’s formed in his stomach.

Harry couldn’t have been older than nine in the photo, if that. He’s wearing a superman costume and giving a smile to the camera, holding his pillowcase in front of his legs. You stand in a similar position next to him. Dressed as Violet from the Incredibles and giving the camera a big and bright smile even though you’re missing a tooth. He knew this photo existed, he remembers taking it. His mum has stopped the two of you on the porch before you left with his dad to go trick or treating. He didn’t know about the one after it.

Your arms are wrapped around shoulders in a hug and Harry can see in the photo that he’s trying to turn to hug you back, the photo had only been taken too soon to see the full hug. The third photo is still on the porch, but now he’s holding onto your hand, pulling you down the stairs as you wave bye to his Nikki. The last one in the set was later that night, in the living room, the two of you sat right next to each other with all of your candy dumped on the floor in two separate piles in front of you. Harry leans over you to grab something from your pile while you notice the camera and show yet another toothless smile.

Harry continues to flip through the book. Hoping for more photos of you. He hasn’t seen you in so long and these photos are bringing back so much, almost too much. He passes more photos, noticing how the two of you get older as they go on. More ones that he had no idea they were ever taken. Plain old boring ones, one of you studying and him with a textbook open on his knees. One of you laughing, your eyes squinted and hand covering his mouth. One where you’re both sitting on a couch, your head in his lap. A similar one but this time his head is on your thigh and your hands are in his hair. You must have been fifteen. The two of you, on the couch, asleep. Textbooks discarded. His arms around you, your head resting his shoulder, your hand on the other and his head resting on top of yours. Wonder of why his mum saved these photos pass his mind but they’re gone as fast as they came when his eyes catch three more photos.

You’re sixteen. Harry would’ve been seventeen in a week. Nine days to be exact. This day is so vivid in his mind still. The photo shows the two of you hugging, his face buried in your hair, fingertips turning white from pulling you into him so much. He didn’t want you to go. That was more than obvious. On the same front porch from the Halloween photos but this time Harry was in socked feet and his pyjamas, meanwhile you were fully dressed. The second photo is from the same hug, arms still wrapped around each other but the two of you lean back to look at each other. Harry breaks at the photo. He remembers the tears that slipped down your cheeks and how you shook in his arms, partially from the cold February air and partially from trying to control your own breathing. You’d nearly forced your parents to take you to their house before you moved away for who knows how long. It was only nine thirty in the morning when you showed up, knocking on the door until Tom had opened it. You didn’t even have to say anything before Tom told you he’d go get him. Harry has started down the stairs calmly but when he saw you nearly crying he had sprinted down the rest of the way, almost tripping over his own feet before wrapping you in a tight hug. It lasted for six minutes and thirty nine seconds. Still wasn’t long enough. After the six minutes and thirty nine seconds were up, that was the last he’d seen you.

The third photo was you realizing that there’s a camera nearby, wiping a tear away and sending a smile towards it. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. Harry was still hugging you. The photos had come full circle. Back to you and Harry. On the porch, in a hug.

Harry is pressing his hand against his mouth, sliding it across his face and wiping away a tear that hadn’t yet fallen. He was never a crier but you were his best friend. He doesn’t really know when the two of you had stopped texting but it had happened. It hurt to let you go. You never knew, or maybe you did but he never told you, that he loved you. But he did. You were his first best friend, other than Sam of course but he doesn’t count in the same way. It had never really gone away. The feeling of comfort that settled in his stomach whenever you were around. Or the way his heart would go just a little bit faster any time that you put your head on his shoulder or how he got inexplicably angry whenever you were upset.

Harry shuts the book, giving up on the photo he had originally been looking for. He replaces the book and starts to head back to his room, passing Sam on the way.

“You alright, mate?” Sam stops Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passes by. Harry turns around.

“Yeah, ‘M fine” Harry lies through his teeth. Sam doesn’t buy it though. First of all, he’s his twin. He knows when he’s lying. Second of all, Harry’s a ginger, and he can’t hide the blotchiness in his face even though he had hardly teared up, his complexion has betrayed him.

“What happened?” Sam questions him further, not accepting the answer he’d gotten before. Harry looks at him, trying to convey that he doesn’t want to answer. His message gets through to Sam but it’s only returned with a ‘tell me what’s going on’.

“I just found some old photos is all. Ones of me and Y/N” Harry admits, feeling his heart sink when he says your name. The full feeling of missing you, wanting to hug you again, feel your hair tickle his nose, and hear your laugh when he says something stupid, hits him full force now.

“When was the last time you talked to her?” Sam asks. Sure Harry had had small conversations with you, mostly just catching up but they weren’t really conversations. They were awkward and uncomfortable messages. Wanting to know how the other is doing. Every ‘that’s good’ crying out, begging for more entertaining answers. Every ‘i miss you’ screaming for anything more than small talk. Every dry message towards the end of the conversation from both of you not wanting to say goodbye to the other for who knows how long. But it happens anyway. The two of you don’t talk for a while until one is reminded of the other, not that either of you had ever forgotten. The cycle repeats.

“A couple months, maybe. But we haven’t really talked since a few weeks after she left” Harry replies, clearly upset. His throat feels tight and his voice comes out frail. Sam gets it, nodding along. “It’s not that big of a deal though” Another lie, but this time Sam accepts it, not pestering his brother any longer.

A few days later Harry sits at the kitchen table stirring the last few pieces of cereal that he hasn’t eaten around in the milk in the bowl. Sams at Elysia’s, Toms filming, Paddy and his dad haven’t woken up yet. He thought that his mum hadn’t either until she walks in and a cheery “Good morning!” shakes Harry out of his thoughts.

“Good morning, mum” The room is silent for a while, nothing but the sounds from outside and Nikki making her tea until Harry speaks up again as his mum sits at the table next to him. “Hey, mum?”

“Yes?” She responds, taking a sip of her tea.

“I found some old photos the other day,” He starts, his mother listens closely, curious as to what’s got her normally boisterous son so quiet. “Photos of me and Y/N. Why’d you keep them?” He continues, looking up at her with glassy eyes before they dart back to the cereal bowl.

Nikki knew this day would come. A day when he’d see the old photos that she had saved. There was a whole album of just photos of the two of them. It was an important relationship and one day he’d see the album. Today was not that day, and that album was certainly not the one he’d seen. She knew it’d hurt him a lot to see the photos. The wound of you leaving unexpectedly was still not fully healed even though it’s been years. It may not ever be healed but time can only tell.

“Harry,” She places her hand on the table to pull his attention back to her. “It was an important relationship. You both impacted each other so much. The memories deserved to be kept” She goes back to her tea, sipping it quietly. Harry only nodded. He’s not going to tell her how in love with you he was. She wasn’t going to tell him she already knew.

The photos didn’t leave Harry’s mind. They were constantly there, at the forefront of his thoughts nearly all the time. Along with any memory that he could pull from deep within, of the two of you.

A lot of the memories were of others' speculation. The number of times that Harry had been asked by friends if they were dating, how much Tom and Sam had made fun of him for how close you were and yet you weren’t dating. Everyone’s shock when you started dating that one guy during high school. God Harry hated him. You had started spending more time with him and than Harry and it hurt. So much so that his chest would burn when he saw you two together. It felt like it was about to cave in or explode when you laughed at his jokes. Harry remembers how he had come up to him one May afternoon. Harry had been civil with the boy throughout your whole relationship. Never saying anything rude to him, despite how much he wanted to say, but also never actively trying to become better friends with him. He’d come up to Harry after class and said something about you and Harry and hoping he’s happy. But he’d spoken so fast that that’s all Harry could grasp onto before he’d walked away.

An hour later you’d called Harry in tears saying that you’d been broken up with. Harry was there for you, he’d come over with a box of Oreos, it was all he could get on the way to your house from school, but he’d be lying if he said that the heat and stretch in his chest hadn’t dissipated at the news. The longer he sat there watching the office with you, the more at ease he’d felt.

Tom had teased that Harry was in love with you. But he always said he wasn’t. You guys were just friends. Nothing more. You both just cared about each other. Harry wasn’t in love with you. Was he?

Harry hurries home to go back through the photos, analyzing them.

Halloween. The first one both of you were looking at the camera. The second one you were looking at the camera and he was looking at you. The third he was looking at you and you were looking at Nikki. The fourth you were looking at the camera again and Harry was looking at the candy. Typical, but not the point. Studying photos. You looking at a textbook, him looking at you. Your head in his lap, watching the telly, he’s looking at you again. His head in your lap and this time you’re looking at him. A soft smile on your face as your hands pull through his curls, he can almost feel it from just looking at the picture. It occurs to him why these photos are saved. Anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention could see that he loved you, or at least cared very deeply for you. Even just from the photos, he imagines it was more obvious seeing you in person or overhearing conversations. His mum knew. And she saved the memories.

Fuck Harry thinks. He misses you. A lot. So much. Maybe he’d text you. See how things were going. But then again if he has to go through another dry conversation like you’ve had since you moved then he thinks he might combust. He’d rather not talk that have to deal with those. Who knows how much you’ve moved on with your life since then. It’s been a long time. Harry’s changed a lot, he can only assume that you have as well.

The next few days were strange for Harry. He was never one to get hung up on small things but he couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship. Were you just friends? Were you more? What exactly did he feel for you? Did you feel the same? Did you feel more?

He’d spent so much time with you that he could recite facts about you like it was nothing. He knew your favourite colour, your favourite subject and how many tests you’d ever failed. That was hardly the beginning. He knew your favourite family member, why you hated your year eight English teacher, why you and Cindy stopped being friends in year six and why you refuse to eat twisty shaped pasta with anything other than tomato sauce. And yet he didn’t know if what he knew about your friendship was entirely true, or if there was more hidden under the covers that both of you felt but neither dared to touch.

He walked into the house, shutting the door behind him as he went through the photos on his camera, deleting the ones that were absolute no’s from this shoot. He’d go through the other ones later on his computer to edit them and see which turn out better. He wandered his way up to his room, not bother to take his eyes off of his camera screen. He’d barely made it halfway through the kitchen before a laugh caught his attention over the sound of Great British Bake Off coming from the living room.

At first, he thought it was Elysia and that maybe Sam had brought her over for an afternoon but he remembers Sam telling him that Elysia was spending time with her family further north for the weekend.

Harry stops in the archway between the living room and the kitchen. Harry doesn’t believe his eyes for a moment, causing him to nearly drop his camera and for another familiar and airy laugh to float into his ears from the couch.

You.

You’re there.

You’re actually there.

Sure you look a little different. Your hair has changed and you have spots on your cheeks and chin that weren’t there when you left. But it’s you. You sitting cross-legged on his couch for the first time in years. Sam taps your knee and says something to you. You nod and then Sam stands up, walking past Harry who still hasn’t moved from his spot in the archway. Sam nods his head in your direction as he passes Harry, urging him to go talk to you.

Harry slowly walks towards the couch, taking smaller steps than any normal person would have. You laugh again, a wide smile gracing your face until he sits down across from you, your knees barely touching. Harry’s silent for a while. A million thoughts running through his mind.

Is this real? Am i dreaming? I love you. Are you actually here? There’s no way you’re actually here. I love you. Just say something Harry. God, you’re an idiot. I love you. I love you. I’ve always loved you

Maybe he did know how he felt. It just took a little longer than he would’ve liked it too. Many years too long.

“Are you real?” Harry sputters out after much too long of silence. It makes you laugh causing your eyes to crinkle and for you to lean forward.

“Yes, Harry. I’m real. I’m here. This isn’t a dream” It’s like you could read his mind. He hopes that you didn’t catch the I love you part. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure.

“I’m sorry it’s just been a while” Harry stares down at where your knees touch. The small amount is driving him insane, even through both of your jeans. His knee was pressed against yours. You were there. He could touch you. He is touching you.

“I know, Harry. I’m sorry” You day with a sad smile. You place your hand on his thigh and Harry felt his heart speed up. He placed his hand on top of yours, curling his fingers around to hold it and you return it.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t really have a choice” Silence settles over the two of you, for the first time in your life neither of you knows what to say but at least your together. Hand on hand on thigh and then lips on lips.

Harry wasn’t even aware that he was leaning in until your lips touched his. He pulled away almost instantly, about to spew apologies but your hand found his cheek and pulled him back towards you, lips moving against each other with years of closeted love and passion for the other. There was no turning back now. Soft lips against chapped ones, Harry let himself stop thinking for once, letting himself follow whatever felt right at the time until he was nearly out of breath and then a moment longer.

I love you.

Harry pulls away, lips red and swollen, cheeks matching in colour. You look about the same, your eyes slowly flutter open.

“Harry, I’ve loved you for a while. Since we were-”

“I love you too. I always have. I think. I’m not a hundred percent but I’m fairly certain” Harry blubbers his way through the words, making you laugh. God, he missed the sound of that. He missed the smile that went with it. Harry continues; “Certain enough to say that I did. Do. I do love you”

You don’t know how to reply. So you send him a smile before leaning in to peck his lips one more time which he returns.

“Are you staying in Kingston?” Harry asks when you pull back, your faces still only a couple inches apart. You nod and Harry lets go of your hand, instead, he wraps both arms around your torso and pulls you into him as he lies back on the couch with you on top of him. You laugh again, Harry was never tired of your laugh. He could hear it on repeat for the rest of his life and he’d never get bored of it. He presses his lips against your forehead as the two of you continue watching the telly, neither of you fully interested in the episode of Great British Bake Off that’s playing.

And when Nikki comes home and sees the two of you asleep, she finally decides to dig out that one album full of photos of the two of you.

[blu-joons]

Pregnancy with Jin ~ BTS Headcanon

Finding Out You’re Pregnant

Jin was an absolute wreck when he found out you were pregnant, he was completely overwhelmed with emotion

Instantly he was filled with excitement, he couldn’t wait to have a baby with you

The two of you had dreamed about having children for some time, but you’d never been successful in your attempts, until now

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening for us, I’m so happy.”

Everyone in his family were thrilled, they’d been supporting you both in trying for a baby, excited it was finally happening

Jin kept his eye on you always, he wanted this for too long to risk even the smallest of incidents happening to you

He accidentally blurted the news out on a V Live one night as he struggled to contain his excitement when talking about the band’s future

The boys were over the moon too, they knew how much the two of you desired a child, and they were desperate to all be uncles

“I don’t know how we are all going to cope if this baby is too similar to Jin.”

He was always with you, he loved to go to all your appointments and scans, or just meet you for a cup of coffee to get you out of the house

Being Pregnant

You made an official announcement at twenty weeks, even if all the fans already knew the news thanks to Jin

He loved to take photos with his camera of your ever-growing bump and all the adventures you went on with it

“I really don’t think our child will appreciated being photographed at your parents?”

“It’s their first-time visiting grandma and grandpa, even if they don’t know it, it’s a huge occasion.”

His jokes were helpful in cheering you up when you were having bad days, they were perfect tool to help you smile again.

He’d persuaded himself that you were going to have a girl, he just had a feeling that the two of you would have a princess

There was never an appointment that Jin missed, he would travel from the ends of the world if it meant seeing your little one’s scan

Having a baby matured Jin immensely, he found himself taking on new responsibilities

His childish nature was still around, but he definitely took fatherhood seriously

Mealtimes, were your favourite time, nothing was better than Jin’s home cooking

“I swear this is like heaven on a plate, how do you do it?”

He was incredibly brave with your morning sickness; he knew he had to be there for you through all of the ups and downs

Cuddles were a must after sickness to try and help you get back off to sleep

Jin loved decorating the nursery, he spent hours up in the room without so much as a peep

Not knowing the gender, he decided on a zoo theme so he could buy lots of cuddly toys

Him and the boys spent hours decorating the walls especially, hand painting lots of beautiful animals to it

Sleepless nights were hard, but Jin stayed awake with you, all night if he had to

 The two of you had a little countdown in your kitchen to your due date to try and stop Jin getting too excited

All the boys were excited too, reminding you everyday how many days were to go

Jin was forever talking to the bump, he loved to know that his child could hear his voice

“You’re just going to be the cutest, luckily for you your dad is worldwide handsome.”

“I’m pretty sure their mummy is pretty cute too, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh yeah, you are gorgeous honey, you’ve got a sexy mum little one.”

His shirts slowly became your shirts as your wardrobe shrunk around your growing bump

Jin didn’t mind, he found it incredibly sexy whenever he saw you in his clothes

Being the elder, he liked to remind his members to look after you and the baby

They were on hand whenever you needed them to help you or do something for you

Especially the nursery, they each left their own stamp on the walls, so they knew their uncles

Their favourite thing was to tease Jin that he was probably going to be the oldest dad in the school playground, much to Jin’s disapproval

JIn always referred to your bump as ‘little one,’ it just happened to stick over time

He knew instantly whenever you were in discomfort, he could read you like a book

His long fingers would often massage your tummy to help the baby settle when they were feeling restless

“Little one, you need to calm down and give your mummy some time to sleep.”

As the two of you settled down for bed, he’d often lay with his head just above the bump for a while

His massages were amazing in helping you feel good, you had no idea how he managed it

Your little one’s first kick was huge, Jin couldn’t stop smiling for a whole week as he reminisced about it

Any chance he’d get, he’d touch your bump in the hope there would be some movement

He loved to make up songs when you couldn’t sleep, noting them down to use as lullabies in the future

His voice was dreamy, it was your favourite thing to fall asleep to

“Just sing to me for a while, I think it’s settled the little one.”

“I always knew they’d be my biggest fan; baby knows what’s good for them.”

You loved snacking, you were eating for two, and baby wanted food, they got food

There were little tubs of snacks scattered all over the house for you to help yourself to

As labour neared, Jin knew you were beginning to panic, but he was amazing in reassuring you that things would be fine

He just couldn’t wait to meet the baby, that kept him going

The two of you would sit, and just talk, express your worries and stick together as a mother and father

You had an ideal birthing plan in your head which you shared with Jin, so he knew how he could help you in the delivery suite

“Whatever you need, I’ll be on hand, you just focus on you and baby.”

He’d cuddle you all night long and reassure you that labour was going to be worth it

Any sign of labour had you worried; it was nerve wracking to know it was happening

Jin took all the time off work he could in the latter stages in order to be around in case anything was to happen

He was going to stick with you through everything, he didn’t want to leave you alone

Labour

You were sat watching a movie when you felt the sudden urge for a drink to try and ease your stomach pain

Only, when you stood up your waters broke, the panic setting in

Jin quickly leapt into action, helping you through it, eventually taking you to the hospital

“Just keep reminding yourself our little one is coming; it’s all going to be worth it jagi.”

His words were reassuring, it was a big relief to know that he was right beside you

Being in the delivery suite relaxed you as you made yourself comfortable

You suffered horrendously with your contractions, struggling to cope with the ever-increasing pain

Jin did as you’d told him, continually talking to you to try and distract you from the pain and keep you smiling

He was wracked with guilt knowing there was nothing he could to change positions

“I’m really proud of you, just keep taking it slow, big breaths and lots of smiles.”

When the time to push came around Jin was holding tightly to your hand, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead

You kept glancing at him, looking for his smile to keep you going

“It’s nearly all over, this is the last little bit and then we’ll be a proper family.”

He was terrified when it came down to it, all the confidence drained from him

It wasn’t until he heard the first cries of your baby could he breath in relief again, knowing both you and baby were safe and healthy

Jin grabbed you as you were informed you had a baby girl

You held onto him, struggling not to fall asleep in his arms as you were so tired

The baby came to you first, Jin sitting over you both, his arms wrapped around you both tightly

Your head leaned on his chest, admiring the gorgeous features your little girl possessed, your eyes, and Jin’s smile were clear

Jin was thrilled to hold her for the first time, cradling her closely, pressing kisses to the top of her head

You knew exactly what you wanted to name her after coming up with names midway through pregnancy

There were a lot of tears as the realisation set in that she was your daughter

Both of you were overwhelmed that you’d created such a beautiful baby

“I can’t wait to show you off to the world, your little face, I can guarantee you’ll be a heartbreaker when you grow up just like your daddy.”

Neither of you could bring yourselves to put her down, just wanting to see her, always

The two of you were in the sweetest, blissful bubble together

The First Few Hours

Jin reluctantly put your daughter down for a nap after a couple of hours as the tears subsided

“Oh, how does she manage to look so cute when she’s sleeping too? She’s perfect.”

“Of course she is perfect, she’s part of me and part of you.”

He quickly snapped a picture and sent it to all the boys with a lot of heart emojis to let them know they had a niece

You were continuously peering over at her, making sure she was alright, dreaming that you could get some sleep too

The boys blew up your phones with texts, begging for more photos of your little bundle of joy

happily, took all the photos in the world, saving them on an album on his phone to look back over whenever he could

“I’m already missing her and she’s only over there asleep, what’s happening?”

“It’s because you care Jin, she’s a lucky girl to have a dad like you.”

Jin sat with you for a bit, cuddling you and showering you with appreciation and love

He was on hand for anything, surprising you with a cake he’d baked a few days ago as a token of his love for you

His humour soon appeared, telling jokes, appropriately, to your daughter whilst she slept

The firsts were photographed, added to his album, feeds, changes, the whole lot were made to memories

You couldn’t wait to take her home and show her the beautiful nursery the boys had decorated

Jin was so excited to have you back home safely too so you could relax and get yourself back to your normal self

The First Few Days

You went home a day after labour to see his parent’s car pulled up on the driveway of your house

His mum quickly appeared, screaming for a look at her gorgeous granddaughter

They’d tidied the whole house, decorating it with all the cards and presents the two of you had been sent

Jin was once more there with his camera to snap the first cuddles with her grandparents

“Son, you’ve done well. Not only do you have a beautiful partner, but this little one is just perfect.”

Adjusting to life became natural after a while, your little routine worked well

The sleepless nights continued, but you didn’t mind, happily getting up just to spend some more time with your daughter when she was crying

Jin spent a limited amount of time at the studio, only popping in when he was needed, he couldn’t bare to be away from you both

The nursery was your daughter’s favourite place, she loved the feel of all her cuddly toys against her skin

Meeting The Boys

You took her to the studio a week after she was born, as the texts from the boys became unbearable, desperate to meet her

They were so excited when you walked in, all huddling around the pram to get the first peek at her adorable face

Namjoon was first, not picking her up, he was too scared, but admiring all her gorgeous features that he picked up on

Taehyung couldn’t wait to tease him once more that he was a father at such an old age

Hobi was first for cuddles, dancing around with her in his arms, showing her all around the studio she’d grow up in

“This will put her to sleep, I’ve got a magic touch when it comes to babies, they all love me.”

Yoongi was mesmerised, he’d never seen something so adorable in his life, and yet still she was a part of Jin

Jungkook couldn’t wait for cuddles, he loved to play games with her, peekaboo was his ultimate favourite, always making her smile

Jimin gave her lots of presents, he showered her with more additions that the two of you could put in the nursery

None of them wanted you to leave as it got late into the evening, trying to kidnap your daughter in one of the dorms

They were texting as soon as you leaved for baby updates and photos because they missed her little face

The Future

Jin was in awe as he watched his daughter, she changed so much just in a couple of weeks

He fell in love with you all over again, seeing you as a mother melted his heart, you were amazing

More kids were a must, he couldn’t wait to have a big family and lots of children to look after

Fatherhood changed him, everything he did he considered his daughter, she was his number one priority, always

There was never a second in the day when she wasn’t on his mind

His little family was his everything, he was the luckiest man in the world

Masterlist

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Nine

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Eight

Read here on wattpad

Word count: 4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, Drug abuse

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PMRC DEMANDS CENSORSHIP, DEVELOPES A LIST OF THE "FILTHY 15."

1. Prince, "Darling Nikki", flagged for sex/masturbation

2. Sheena Easton, "Sugar Walls", flagged for sex

3. Judas Priest, "Eat Me Alive", flagged for Sex/Violence

4. Vanity, "Strap On Robbie Baby", flagged for sex

5. Mötley Crüe, "Bastard", flagged for violence/language

6. AC/DC, "Let Me Put My Love Into You", flagged for sex

7. Twisted Sister, "We're Not Gonna Take It", flagged for violence

8. Madonna, "Dress You Up", flagged for sex

9. W.A.S.P., "Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)", flagged for sex/language/violence

10. Def Leppard, "High 'n' Dry (Saturday Night)", flagged for drug/alcohol use

11. Mercyful Fate, "Into the Coven", flagged for occult themes

12. Black Sabbath, "Trashed", flagged for drug/alcohol use

13. Mary Jane Girls, "In My House", flagged for sex

14. Venom, "Possessed", flagged for occult themes

15. Cyndi Lauper, "She Bop", flagged for sex/masturbation

Tipper freaking Gore, the wife of the senator at the time, Al Gore, and bunch of other political housewives got their panties in a twist in 1985 and decided to demand artists either censor themselves when creating music, leaving no room for even the slightest hint at sex, drugs, alcohol, satanism, occultism, violence, language, or anything else almost every artist uses one of to express themselves in their music.

When musicians across the board practically told Tipper, the other wives, and everyone else that called themselves a member of the Parents Music Resource Center, to go fuck themselves, they decided to slap censorship stickers on records that contained any of the mentioned offenses.

Even John Denver got hit with censorship for his song "Rocky Mountain High."

It didn't shock me when my mother was photographed with Tipper after attending one of the hearings.

Mötley was invited to a hearing to defend their content and speak their opinions with a handful of others being censored, but they never batted an eye when the news first came out because they knew having an "X" or "XX" or "XXX" rating for violence, language, sex, drugs, alcohol, etc. would only make kids buy the record more. And it did.

"It's bullshit." I state, tossing the news paper article aside.

"It's politics." Fred replies taking a bite of his bagel.

"These womens' sex lives must be atrocious or else they'd be spending more time on their husbands' dicks and less time on these people's." I motion to the article with the list on it.

"Babe--"

"If these polotical lunatics spent as much energy taking care of their own damn kids, as they're spending attempting to villainize artists who're expressing themselves, they would realize that it's not Mötley Crüe's or anyone else's job to raise their children. If you're so scared of your kids trying all this stuff, have a conversation with them about it and tell them about it, honestly, instead of relying on the music they listen to, to properly teach them about it. And at the end of the day, they're gonna buy the record whether their parents want them to or not, and they're going to try all kinds of stuff, no matter who talks to them about it, if they really want to try it." I continue my rant, Fred, Doc, Nikki, Vince, Tommy and Mick all looking at me, waiting for me to be done.

"Are you done, Sister Christian?" Vince asks me and I glare at him.

"Viv, it's publicity. Who gives a fuck?" Nikki asks me. "The kids are gonna go for the nastiest rated album anyway. The more 'X's the better."

"Yeah, but the audacity of--" Tommy's teaching his hand around my shoulder and covering my mouth before I can continue and I look at him where he's beside me.

"I've got a headache. I'm hungover, Viv. I love you, but I don't need to hear a Vivian Bitch Fit right now." Tommy explains to me.

I just look at him like he's lost his mind for shutting me up, and he cautiously moves his hand away.

I give him a ten second reprieve before shouting, at the top of my lungs:

"The audacity of these people pisses me off!" I finish what I was going to say and Tommy and Nikki are both jumping out of their seats a little at the sudden shouting, covering their ears, wincing, before Nikki's looking at me, sharply.

I roll my eyes at him and he grabs roughly at my thigh under the table, uncomfortably sinking the tips of his fingers into my flesh.

Ignoring him, I take a sip of my coffee, as he glances around and stands up.

"I gotta piss." He tells us, but I know why he's going to the bathroom.

I wait for him to disappear past the "Men's Room" sign in the Denny's before I get up and follow after him.

I walk in, catching the tail end of him snorting a line, and I cross my arms, waiting outside of the stall he's in.

I hear the familiar "click" of a needle being uncapped.

"Nikki. It's 10:00 in the morning." I tell him.

"Fuck off."

"Nikki."

"Fuck off."

"Nikk--"

"Fuck off."

"Make me."

I wait for him to come out of the stall and do what I dared him to, but I just hear the sound of him sighing out in relief as opiate hits his system, drowning out whatever argument we were about to get into.

When he didn't want to hear me complain or try to talk him out of stuff, he would run to his favorite room in his mind: his heroin den.

If we were at home, he'd lock himself in the closet, with me begging him to come out.

He'd open the door for me right before passing out so he could at least say he tried.

If we were in public or at a hotel, he'd lock himself in the bathroom and do the same thing.

The sound of vomit smattering the floor has me wincing as he mumbles "fuck it" and opens the stall door, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Don't fuckin' give me that hit dog look." He tells me, moving past me to the sink, splashing some water on his face, smearing his already smeared eyeliner that makes him look like a raccoon that's been digging around in a dumpster.

"I'm not giving you any kind of look." I mumble, forcing him to look at me as I wet a paper towel and wipe his black-coated eyelids clean.

The smell of his vomit infiltrates my nostrils and I throw the paper towel away before pulling at his wrist to leave. 

Being that he's perfected his magical potion, he isn't too jittery from the coke or nodding off from the heroin.

He's just quiet.

We leave Denny's and head straight to the airport to head back home, being they wrapped up the last show of the U.S. tour last night.

Next is Europe.

Once we land in L.A., Christmas music blares through the speakers of the airport and reminds me that it's already nearing the end of December.

Apparently Vince is reading my mind because he mumbles, "apparently time flies when you're in hell."

Amen, Vince. A-fucking-men.

The second Nikki and I get into the limo to take us to our house, he's busting out a vile of blow that's nearly empty.

"Fuck, I gotta get Jason over, asap." He tells himself and I rub my lips together.

"You know, we haven't even bought a Christmas tree since we've been married." I tell him, trying to distract myself from his previous comment.

"Yeah." He says, basically blowing me off and I reach the toe of my sneaker out and nudge him on the kneecap as he gets the tip of our house key and scoops some from the bindle, snorting a bump.

"Babe." I continue to tap his kneecap until he's got his hand around my ankle, loosely, stopping me.

"What, Viv?"

"What did I just say?" I ask him, crossing my arms.

He just blinks at me, smirking a little.

"I'll gladly tell you when I finish this." He holds the bindle up.

I lean forward and take it from him, holding it hostage when he attempts to take it.

"You'll get it back when I get a Christmas tree." I tell him, raising my brows.

"Are you fucking me right now?" He asks, chuckling, not thinking I'm serious.

"No...but now that you mention it, I want that, too. Then you can get it back." I add and he smirks.

By the time we get to a department store, get my clothes back on and his pants zipped back up, grab an artificial tree, lights and ornaments, and finally get to the house, it's nearly one in the morning.

"Okay, Saint Vivian, gimme my shit back." Nikki states, carrying the boxed up tree while I carry the bags of lights and ornaments.

"Put the tree up so I can decorate it and I will." I reply.

"That wasn't apart of the deal." He argues, his tone still light.

"Well now it is." I reply.

"That's cheating."

"I made the deal. I make the rules." I shrug.

"You're making me work for something that's already mine." His free hand pulls at my waist, turning me to him and I grin mischievously as he shakes his head a little. "That's it, Sixx." He tells me before crouching enough to wrap his arm around my thighs and throw me over his shoulder.

I laugh manically, partially out of fear that he'll drop me, but also because this is the Nikki I fell in love with.

Playful, lighthearted, aggravating but meaning well, Nikki.

He manages to dig his house key out again and unlock the door before stepping in and turning on the lights in the foyer.

"Baby, put the bags down for now." He tells me and I drop them as carefully as I can while he puts the box the tree is in, down.

He's walking us to the living room, laughing when he pretends to trip and I gasp, digging my nails into him like a cat holding onto its owner to avoid a bathtub full of water.

When he flips the next light on, he stops immediately.

My mind is in shambles for a moment as I try to put together why so many people are in my house once Nikki's nearly dropping me out of shock, not even hearing them all scream out, "surprise!"

Steven and Tansy are at the forefront of people as the explosion of glitter, a mixture of neon and pastel decor, an abundance of various alcohol options, scantily clad women, a handful of Nikki's friends he hangs out with outside of Mötley Crüe, and a big ass, two-tier cake with every curse word known to man written in pristine is cursive font on the sides of it is soaked in by mine and Nikki's eyes.

Steven's wearing a beer hat, smiling widely, while Tansy looks like a sallow Barbie doll, but she's still forcing out a grin for the sake of us, and everyone's waiting for mine and Nikki's reactions.

Nikki and I exchange looks, confused as ever.

"Why is it a surprise?" I finally ask, deciding it's best if I ask instead of Nikki, because all he wanted to do was come in, shoot up, have a few lines, fuck around with me some more, and pass out.

But instead he's being forced to socialize in his own house.

His safe place has been infested.

Steven and Tansy seem horrified that we don't understand the reason for the apparent party.

"...Because it's your birthday?" Tansy reminds me.

"And Nikki's was a couple weeks ago, but he wasn't here to celebrate it." Steven adds, his smile is long gone, his eyes focused on Nikki who looks like he could kill someone right now.

"Oh, right!" I pretend that I know that it's my birthday today, and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief. "It's been a long day." I explain, stepping to the two blondes, hugging them both tightly. "Thank you so much."

While everyone else starts going on with the party, music starting to blare throughout the house on the stereo speakers, cracking open beer, whiskey, and vodka, as girls strip down to bikinis to go swimming, Nikki's still standing at the door, the look on his face is a mixture or pissed off, disappointed, and "I need another dose."

"Babe." I say gently to grab his attention, hazel eyes looking to me as a jaw tightens. "C'mon, just for a couple hours."

"I'll be right back." He tells me, shoving through people to get to our bedroom.

I brush off his attitude the second I feel hands on my shoulders, squeezing them a little and I snap around to meet Duff's chest.

"Hey, birthday girl." He greets me cooly, and I'm hugging him before I can stop myself.

Something wet falls on my hand when I pull away, and just as I'm about to look around for whatever it was, his fingers that are sticking out of leather gloves that just cover his palms, are brushing at my face.

"What's up?" He asks me, furrowing his brows a little.

What is up? Why the hell are you crying?

"I-I'm happy." Is all I can say, chuckling, wiping more tears.

He knew it was bullshit. I was happy, sure. Happy to get the fuck off the road. Happy to get a break from Nikki and Tommy harassing Vince. Happy to get away from Doc's constant pressing for more tour dates to milk as much money as possible. Happy to be able to hangout with balls of optimism and sunshine like Duff and Steven and have Slash show me his pet snakes like he'd been meaning to, and for Izzy to tell me what music I should have been listening to, and for Axl to go on and on about Tansy but then completely deny he was interested in her because he was too much of a dork to just ask her out.

"I'll be right back, alright?" I tell Duff, looking around to see Nikki's nowhere to be seen.

"Okay." He tells me, swigging from a bottle of vodka.

I thread through people who tell me "happy birthday" and I thank each of them, genuinely, before opening up the bedroom door, and shutting it behind me, stepping to our bathroom.

"Baby?" I ask, seeing Nikki standing at the mirror, teasing his hair some more. "I had no idea they would do this." I tell him.

"I had no fucking idea it was even your birthday, apparently." He grumbles. "Shows how much I care, right? Husband of the year. Something else to be hung over my head anytime we get into a fight." 

"Hey, I didn't even know it was my birthday. The guys didn't either. You've all been busy and working hard and tired. I'm not going to hold this over you, Nikki." I assure him, fixing a piece of his hair for him.

I didn't realize his pride was so hurt by the gesture Steven and Tansy made.

I found out later it was Duff who brought up the idea to Tansy, who recruited the Ken to her Barbie: Steven, to help her orchestrate it.

That was another indication to Nikki that he needed to slow down, forgetting his own wife's birthday, but he didn't listen to it a bit.

"I really don't want to do this shit, Vivian." He tells me, rubbing his eyes.

"And I do?"

"They're your friends." He sighs.

"What's mine is your's." I say as I kiss his cheek and he groans.

"You owe me." He tells me as I step out of the bathroom. "Matter of fact, I want my coke back."

"Um, I can't hear you, babe. I'm sure I will when these people leave." I tell him.

"Viv--"

"I-I think you're breaking up, I'll talk to you later." I keep going, walking to the bedroom door.

"I'll break something up when these people get the fuck outta my house!" He calls back and I shut the door behind me.

The night goes on as people play beer pong on the dining room table, dance on whatever and whoever they can, snort lines off any flat surface available, and chug whatever is in their cups, drowning pain and becoming oblivious.

I hate to break it to Nikki, but I don't want these people driving in their condition, so they'll have to stay here tonight or call cabs.

After a few hours, people are either pairing off or grouping off to go get laid, passed out, or too high to function properly and are just chilling out.

Steven's observing his work, drinking from his beer cans perched in his hat when I approach him, looking for Duff.

"Have you seen Duff?" I say over the music and he nods.

"Yeah, I think he's by the pool." He tells me.

"The pool?"

"Yep."

I furrow my brows, stepping to the French doors leading outside, seeing Duff and Tansy sitting down on the pool deck, talking

"Is he pissed?" She asks me, referring to Nikki, after I sit next to her.

"I would say go see for yourself but I don't want to toss you into the lion's den." I admit. "He hasn't come out all night."

"I'll go talk to him." She says. "If he's mean to me I'll just cry and make him feel bad like I do to Vince."

Duff and I exchange looks at her confident words before she's walking away in her neon pink bikini.

"Everyone calming down?" Duff asks in a slur, and I nod, glancing through the doors to look at the guests for a few seconds. "How does it feel to be twenty-two?" He adds, rubbing his nose and I raise my brows a little, glancing at the bottle of vodka he's been working on all night.

"It's weird." I mumble. "I was a senior in high school five years ago." The reality hits me and he raises his brows. "God, I'm old."

"You were seventeen your senior year?"

"In pre-k my teacher decided I was too smart for the class and vouched for me to be moved up to kindergarten, and it didn't take my kindergarten teacher long to convince the principle of the elementary school to let me start in the first grade since they hadn't really started in on their curriculum for the year." I explain.

"I couldn't even meet the basic requirements of alternative school." He tells me.

"You're a freaking genius, you just didn't apply yourself." I tell him and he shrugs.

"I had more important things to get done.

"I guess you did." I agree, gently scoring the bottle of alcohol away from him.

"I know you're tired of me saying this, but, Viv, you gotta get back to dancing."

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah. I mean, imagine me giving up music for someone I'm in a relationship with so I can hold their hand or fucking babysit them or whatever. I mean, sure it shows I love them a lot, but it would just make who ever I was with look like a fucking bitch. And I've talked to Nikki before and he told me he didn't want you to quit dance and he wanted you to go to school." He explains. "Why didn't you?"

"I had more important things to get done." I repeat him.

"I don't know if you're selfless sometimes, or just not thinking." He says, before his face suddenly falls. "I sound like an asshole right now, I'm sorry." He apologizes and I shake my head.

"I'm not upset, I know what you mean." I assure him.

"Okay." He rubs his eyes again like a sleepy child.

"Do you need me to help you to bed?" I offer and he waves his hand at me a couple times.

"No, no, I got it." He assures me, standing up.

He nearly falls over.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do." I comment, helping him inside as he apologizes.

"I'm sorry I'm being out of hand right now, Viv, I don't get like this every night." He tells me as I open our guest bedroom and thank God nobody's in here, although it's obvious someone has been screwed to oblivion on the bed.

I just throw the blanket on the edge of the bed over the mattress and help him lay down.

"Thank you." He says as I pull his boots off and set them nice and neat on the floor at the foot of his bed.

"You're welcome." I reply, setting the garbage can beside him incase he needs it. "Goodnight."

I'm about to leave, but his hand gently grasps at my hand, stopping me.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I'm really glad we met and we're friends, Viv." He tells me, grasping my hand in his like I'm going to walk out anyway and not listen to what he's got to say.

"I am, too, Duff." I say back, smiling a little. "Sleep tight, okay?"

"Yeah." He nods his head.

"Alright, goodnight."

I go to kiss him "goodnight" on the cheek, but my entire system and body locks up the second he misreads my intentions, and kisses me.

This sounds so counteractive to who I am now and what I stand for currently, and it was ignorant of me to think such a way back then, when so many people close to me were heavily affected, some of them even dying, by drugs and alcohol...but I use to wish I liked alcohol or drugs, or even felt drawn to them.

By '87 I'd had several miscarriages, my marriage was hanging by a thread after only being married for four years, I was having an identity crisis and my entire world was seeming to fall apart and it became routine to buy a bottle of vodka or whiskey, or pills, or blow and just stare at it--trying to convince myself to go for it--for an hour before pouring it out or flushing it.

The people around me, which by that point was mainly Duff and his band, started to pick up on this struggle I had. And although they knew I had to be in some kind of extreme pain to be considering reaching such lows, they carried an "if you don't laugh about it, you'll cry" method of pulling me out of such spells.

Anytime we would be hanging out and I'd opt to try something they were doing, they would call it the "Golden Question Game" because the "Golden Question" was always "is Vivian actually gonna do it this time?" and they wouldn't argue with me about it or try to stop me because they knew the answer would always be "no" even if I didn't think it would be.

I even made the reckless suggestion to try heroin, and got as far as Izzy getting it in the syringe for me, trying to explain to me how to shoot it, how to angle it, how to know I'd hit a vein, with Steven, Slash and Duff all waiting to see if I was that desperate for an escape.

Like everything else I would think about doing, I just sat on the floor next to Izzy and stared at the golden liquid in the syringe and thought, "who the fuck are you to get pissed and angry at Nikki and Tansy for their addiction to this shit, and how it's destroying them, and then turn around and do it yourself?"

I shot it into the air away from me, handed the empty syringe back Izzy, thanked him for letting me waste his time and dose of smack, went to the bathroom with Duff at my heels, and cried.

I never went through with any of it because I knew I would never, ever, come back from it.

I would've drank myself to death or drugged myself past the point of no return and would have ended up a statistic.

I just needed a new escape because my original high became a heroin addict, and December 23, 1985, had me realizing more about Duff than what I had noticed before: Vodka was a hell of a lot easier to be around than heroin.

[wakandascrystal]

ʀᴇʟɪᴄ

Erik x Black Reader

Summary: Erik finds an old picture of you and an Ex. He recognises him and tells you about the man that saved his life in Afghanistan . 

A/N - Warning⚠, I’m going to make this as emotional as i can. please ignore any errors

🌹🎀🎈 🌹🎀🎈🩱🍑❤🌸💕 🩱🍑 🌹🎀🎈🩱🍑❤🌸💕 🌹🎀🎈🩱🍑❤🌸💕

“Are you on your way here?“ You mother asked over the phone.

“Yes, we are. We might take a pit stop and buy something, do you want anything from the shop?“ You asked polity.

“Yes, get me some milk and cookies. The ones I like. The ones they dip in chocolate.“

“Okay, Ma. No problem. We’ll be there in 20 minutes okay?“ “Yeah yeah. Is my beautiful son in law coming or are you coming with Jade“

“Ma you are on speaker!!“ You were tempted to just hang up but you knew she would kill you. Erik was of no help. He just grinned foolishly.

“Yes. The son in law is driving.“ You slurred

“Hello, Mrs Johnson.“ Erik’s deep voice filled the car

“Erik? What did I tell you about calling me, Mrs Johnson? Call me Mom.“ the was a pause

“Alright, Mrs Johnson.“

“I’m nothing going to tell you twice now. Come on Im your mama.“ Your mom pushed.

You could see Eri wasn’t ready to do that. He had nothing against your mother. He actually liked her but Erik was still working on the emotions he had with his own mother. Even though he lost her along time again the issue was still sensitive and sore.

“Okay, Mrs Johnson we are about to enter the highway so we will see you. Bye“ You hung up and sat back in the leather seat.

“I’m sorry about that?“

“Nah it’s cool.“

You didn’t believe him.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean to make you uncom- ”

“I said let’s drop it Y/N“ His voice was stern and hostile. You saw how his hands tightened on the wheel, the muscles under his skin expanding with the pressure. He was tense. You feared that your mother might have triggered him. You quickly put on some music to calm him down. You put on your favourite lo-fi playlist. You knew it would calm him down and it did. 

Driving 130km/hr you rest your hand on his thigh. You wanted him to slow down, doing this was much better than telling him to slow down. Gently moving your fingers on his inner thigh he slowed down. 

It was raining and Erik had no business speeding on the highway. 

He was driving to your moms. He had agreed to help your mom clear out your old room and the attic. She lived in the countryside, the other side of the state but with Erik’s mustang and driving skills, he could get you there in no time. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.“ He took your hand and kissed it. 

“Don’t be, I understand.“ 

You pulled your hand from his placing it on his thigh again. This was the best part. When you were comfortable enough to talk and be okay with him. It took a long time to understand him, the way he showed himself and the parts he didnt want to show. It took some time to understand that Erik was more than just some nigga from Oakland. He was different.He loved differently and you were ready to be with him no matter what. 

“It’s a good thing you didn’t take out your braids yesterday.“ You didn’t hear him until he nudged your shoulder.

“Yes?“ You pulled out of your train of thought.

“What are you thinking about there.“

“Nothing. I’m just sleepy.“

“You should have slept earlier. 11 o'clock is too late.“

“I had work Erik…but if somebody didn’t wake me up for some action in the middle of my sweet slumber then I would have had my eight hours.“ you folded your arms across your chest.

He was smiling again. 

“What did I tell you about sleeping naked.“

“Erik I always sleep naked cause cloths tighten and roll up on me when I move ….they make me feel uncomfortable. “

“Okay ..but you could have stopped me at any time though…“

“…Fuck you right“ You laughed a bit as he pulled into a petrol station thinking about last night’s events.

 You offered to go buy all the things you need for the weekend but he didn’t want you getting wet. So you told him what yall needed and he left. After a couple of hours, you were very close to your Mother’s house and Erik pulled into her driveway.

“My favourite people!“ She closed the space between her and Erik with a welcoming hug. His head fit in her collarbone. She really liked him. 

Disappearing into your old room, you left them behind in the kitchen. 

Your room looked the same. Nothing was changed or moved. The double bed with all your TLC, Destiny’s Child, Aaliyah, Ashanti and most importantly the Tupuk poster were still up.

You could tell your mom still came in and cleaned once in a while. There is no way your white bedding would still look so fresh and clean after 2 years and no dust. Yes, she did. You looked under your bed to find a box. It was filled with your all memories. Old letters and bracelets. Erik hugged you from behind as you looked at through the objects. You kissed him and sat on the bed.

“Look at this stuff. She still kept it.“ Erik started to look through with you.

“Your mom said we will start cleaning up tomorrow cause your tired and its late .“ You agreed while you read your high school report cards.

“I Was getting B’s and C’s like it was nobody’s business.“ you smile

Erik was interested in all the objects in the box. He wanted to know you better and when an opportunity showed itself he would grab it with both hands.

“You used to play…what the hell is this.”

You looked over him to the picture of you holding a bat.

“Oh, first-team badminton… it’s like Tennies..a bit .”

You let out a high pitch scream.

“Damn Y/N what the hell.”

“I’m sorry but look. I remember buying this lucky packet thing and finding this ring in it. Then I saw a shooting star and wished a handsome, intelligent nigga would marry me.”

“Did it work.” “Yes, it did.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back pulling things from the box. A few minutes went by and you notice how Erik went quite. He was holding the stack of photographs that didn’t make into your photo album.

“What’s got my baby’s attention.”

He carried on staring at the old photographs, you lean up against him again to see what picture had his attention. It was an old picture of your ex-boyfriend giving you a kiss on the cheek. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh come one E. You know your girl was fire back then. I …was bringing all the boys in the yard.” He stayed very serious, focusing on the picture of your Ex planting a kiss on your cheek.

“What was his name?” He asked

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous…You married me ..You won nigga" You giggled

“‘I know….but I think I know him.” Your eyebrows shot up

“`From where?… His name is Flex..”

“Shit.”

“What…what’s wrong?”

“Was his surname O’Brien..”

“Yeah, I think so…It’s been so long though. After graduating I don’t know where he even ended up.“

He didn’t move, just staring at the picture.

“You alright?“ He worried you. His whole aura had changed.

“I know him…He served with me.“ The sorrow and pain in his voice made you pay full attention to him. 

If he did know Flex he must have done something terrible for him to be so emotional all of a sudden. But flex was not like that. You remembered him to be soft and kind. Sure he likes to cause tribble but none that could hurt anyone.

You placed the diary you held and sat next to him. taking his hand.

“You want to talk about it.“ 

“Nah. It’s late you should get some sleep.“

“You sure? I would much rather hear you vent.“ He smiled 

“Let’s get ready for bed.“ He left you to grab your luggage from the car. By the time he got back from the car, Your dad had arrived. He loved Erik.

‘The son I never had’ he always says. You found them in the kitchen talking about the upcoming game. He seemed much happier then he did before. He could cheer up anyone, to be honest. 

“So you came to help your mother with moving?“

“Yes, Sir. Me and Y/N can handle it don’t worry yourself.“ 

“What do you mean me, Erik? I only came for emotional support“ You played along with your husband.

“Nah we are going to put all them pilates and squats into good use tomorrow. Remember to leave with your back.“ Both your father and husband laughed holding onto each other.

“Daddy!!“ they both looked at you. It made you smile that Erik would respond to that even if your real father was present. You fixed your face and pouted to get him on your side.

“Dad. Erik is bullying me.“ 

Adorable Erik though

“I’m sorry sunshine. I was lucky that Erik was free to help. You know since my back kicked in I can’t do anything.“

“-except eat my pies and cooking” Your mom came into the kitchen holding a basket of laundry.

“You got that right.” shocking her head and called you over.

“Y/N why don’t you make the table. I’ll be back to dish up the food for dinner.”

You agreed and did as told, after dinner. You all got ready for bed. For the first time, you didn’t get weird looks from your mom and dad when it was time for sleeping arrangements. Before the wedding, Erik was just some nigga trying to take advantage of their only baby but after the wedding, Erik was the beautiful, nigga angel who was sent to protect their only child from the world. It was strange, and the funny part was Erik didn’t change he was the same chilled guy. But your parents didn’t want you sharing a bed with him. The Christian side of them just couldn’t let that happen. You wondered if they ever figured out that you would just pull him from that uncomfortable, couch around midnight to sleep with you in your bed and end up fucking. It would be weird if they did.

“Before you get up and leave. I would just like to say something..don’t be shy. Do what needs to be done” You knew exactly where this was going.

“Mom please.” You begged

“I need to say this Y/N…Erik I would like to have some grandchildren.”

Erik spat out his wine. It was too funny. It seems like he had not gotten used to how open your mom was. You helped clean him up and left before she said more embarrassing things.

You started getting ready for bed. Brushing your teeth in your silky pj’s. Erik was already in bed. He looked beautiful. He only had his bottoms on, hair all the way back in 3 cornrows. He could see that you were checking him out. Even though he was scrolling through his emails.

“You want to take a picture, Love?“ You giggled. His favourite sound in the world.

“I already have a ton of them, but the real deal looks much better.“ You climber in bed with just his bed lamp on. 

“You don’t say. Are you not cold?“ 

“No. You?“

“No?“ He gave you a kiss and laid down on his back so did you. He turned the lap off and in the silence, you asked.

“Do you think we should fuck so we can have kids ?“ Your voice was little

“What the hell“ Erik let out a laugh, his whole body shook.

“You being pressured by your mom baby?“

“No. I’m in no rush..like at all but we’ve never really spoken about it, Erik.“

“I want to have kids with you, but when the time is right. We still working on us right now. 3 years of marriage that is not a long time. I’m planning on being with you for the longest, like your mom and pops. 57 years.“

“I want to be with you for longer than that.“ You sounded corny and cheesy saying that. Erik smiled thinking you were. But you were his cheesy and corny girlfriend.

“Period…But I do want kids…I want to show them Wakanda and shit. I would love that. “ He said it confidently leaving no room for you to doubt him. ”Plus we live in a great area. They got a good school. You know his ass is practically going to live in that outreach centre. “

“What makes you think it’s going to be a boy?“ you smacked his chest.

“…what ..it could be a girl…or better twins.“

You gasped. “Like Beyonce,” you whisper dramatically. 

You laid on your side so you can see his profile. The small light that comes from the parted curtains helped you see that his eyes were closed. You left for the bath. In the dead of night is when you insecurities seemed to be the most active.

They questioned why Erik liked you, why he married you and if you were worthy to even carry his children. They told you that there were much better girls out there. Who were more attractive. Who could make him much happier than you could ever? At night, when everyone was asleep. The mirror was your worst enemy but somehow the Wakanden gem on your ring fingers reassure you that you were right where you belong.

“Are you asleep?“ you whispered to Erik when you came back from the bathroom. He didn’t answer but he pulled you close to his body. Your head laid on his chest and your arm on his stomach.

after a few minutes of silence, he spoke.

“I was drafted with Felix.“

You didn’t say anything still trying to process the fact that your high school ex-boyfriend somehow knew Erik.

“You still listening..?“ You nodded your head against his chest still in shock.

“We didn’t train together but he was put into the team that left….long story short…i served with your Ex In Afghanistan.’‘ He gave a silent laugh. You felt his body shake.

“What are the odds.“ He said

“-It was crazy. I came in there. Young kid, trying to prove to everyone that am the shit. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. He was…how do I put it…he lost his shit every time a gun went off. I guess he was there to prove he was the shit too.“

Yep, that’s definitely him. You remembered him to be funny and witty and non-violent. You wondered what made him join the military.

“His bed was next to mine. He Latino so he was super chilled and super talkative. Won’t lie he annoyed me at first but we ending up being …kinda close.“

“Omg, this that is so adorable….. I should invite him over and have like a reunion some time. I’m sure I can find him on facebook or something..“

His head shot down at you with an unreadable expression. You thought you might have offended him, maybe he thought the idea was stupid.

“Chill E. We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.“

“You don’t know don’t you?“ His voice was hollow and soft.

“Know what?“

“On one of the last days….we were coming back in 3 days. We had to patrol around the wrecked city. We had done this many times. The locals just went about their way…but that day Felix just ….he told me like 10 times he wasn’t feeling it…He knew something was off the second we left the base. And he was right. In the middle of the city, we were ambushed. ..Young kid from Oakland…I thought I was going to die. “ He gave a weak smile

“The base got word of what was happening and they sent help. We lost so many good soldiers but Felix and I made it out, as we ran out……all I’m thinking is I can’t wait to go home….but from a distance window Felix sees a sniper and jumpers in front of me when he heard the shoot….I’ve heard stories of what a Lapua Magnum bullet can do to a human body…seeing it in real life was something else..I didn’t have time to hold him ..close his eyes. He saved my life. But bet… after a few seconds I got the shoot. There was no way I wouldn’t avenge his death….right here. “

He raised his right arm and pointed to one scare on his arm… That scar was for the shoot. Erik had told you what the scars were for and it clicked. You felt heartbroken and angry for so many reasons but you couldn’t tell Erik immediately because he was still speaking. In all honesty, your brain stopped taking in information when you figured out Felix died. Your eyes water and a throbbing pain soaked up your heart. He was a good guy. He didn’t deserve that. You thought about his mother and his sister. They must have lost it when they found out. But that could have been your morning a death if Felix didn’t do anything..if he didn’t jump in Erik’s way. Maybe with how the universe works and timelines, you would never even have met Erik; that was a dark thought you just didn’t want to dwell on for too long. 

Erik saw your face. The light passes him and lands on your downcasted face. You looked distressed but he doesn’t regret telling you this. Your eyes are glossy with tears that are about to fall. You stop trying to fight the boiling emotions in your chest. They are hot and they sting and they want out. You push yourself into Erik and let out a cry. On his chest, your head laid visibly shaking.

He had never seen you cry like this in the past. 6 years of knowing you and not once. It wasn’t like the crying or sobbing you did when you watched romantic anime or kdramas or when he surprises you(cause you’re easy to please). This cry was deep and dark. It reminded him of pain and devastation. He wrapped his arms around you so your parents would hear. He hated your reaction. It also showed him how empathic of a person you were. 

“Can we go…” Your voice rough and small. “- Can we go see his grave?”

Erik’s face pulled up in confusion and you saw.

“Erik! He was my friend. I know …it sounds like we were was just dating and fucking…He was my actual friends and I’m so angry and hurt…I thought he was in Austria with his father. That’s what he always told me..that when he graduated he would move there…”

You wiped your tears that had wet half your face.

“-…i ..I also want to thank him…He also saved you..” You laced your fingers with his. Yours were tiny against his. “I want to thank him for that.”

Erik didn’t push. He simply agreed. He wanted to make you happy. So anything you wanted was a comrade. 

You stayed in that position, his hand over your waist and your head just by his chest, He heard your body try to recover. The rain had picked up, hitting and creating a calming noise. you fell asleep in his arms grateful and depressed. 

You thought about how hard destiny has been fighting to make sure Erik ended up with you. You thought about all the fights, his past, your past, the shit that went down in Wakanda, the girls and boy the nasty ass girl that wanted him. He was meant to be there. you were meant to be there. And the thought of that and the low humming of the rain sent you to sleep.

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[zwiezraczek]

The Perks of being Roger's Girl... [Chapter 3]

SUMMARY:  Anna is Brian’s friend, his childhood best friend. They were separated for a long time, but when Smile performs at the Royal Albert Hall, Anna is here, invited by Brian. There, she meets Roger, the dentist drummer, a loverboy.

CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3: Paying Off - CHAPTER 4

Freddie's birthday, a lucky day leading to February in 1974...

WORDS: 5.1k

Holding a package against her side, Anna walked on the pavement, looking for the house Freddie lived in with his parents. This neighborhood seemed pretty nice, the detached-houses painted with pastel colors made everything look warmer, cozier, friendlier and safer. The leaves slowly burnt into an orange color, falling slowly on the ground: autumn came in pretty quickly this year, just a few days after August. Anna looked up, the address she had matched with the number she found: she hoped that somebody would already be there, at least Mary, because, she had to admit it, she never felt at ease with new people. Especially parents, her friend's parents. Anna felt at ease with Brian's parents, only because they became her parent's friends, but otherwise Anna was the quiet friend when her friend's parents were around.

She rang the door, and a lovely woman with a warm smile opened, greeting her and inviting her to come in. As soon as Freddie saw her, he went to the lobby to embrace her, before she could even give him the gift she had for him – a shawl, she really had a thing for shawls lately – which she thought would fit Freddie perfectly. At the very end of the table, Freddie's father was sitting, majestic, and impressive, not a single emotion on his face, which seemed pretty scary at first, but Anna could work up with that. John already sat there, chatting with Freddie's sister, Kashemira, a cup of tea in his hand. Mary and her deaf dad were also there. “Presenting the step-family,” Anna joked when Freddie told her about inviting him. And Roger, sitting next to John, trying to talk with Kashemira and John, unsuccessfully. And when he saw her, he smiled, and waved, shyly, before showing her the place next to him. Anna couldn't refuse, and another place was empty, she could save it for Brian. Whom arrived late, scolded by Freddie himself, because of his parent's car being extremely moody lately.

After a lovely dinner, and the opening of the presents, Freddie's mother brought the birthday cake, as Anna chatted carelessly with Brian about the bloody car needing to be repaired but he still couldn't afford it, neither did his parents. He was thinking about buying a car for himself, to which information Roger replied with great enthusiasm, offering his help with the choice – with taste and budget, he said.

“I am so glad to see that Farrokh made such amazing friends, and has such a delightful girlfriend,” Freddie's mother said after putting the cake in front of the birthday boy, and looking fondly at him then at them.

“Farrokh,” Mary repeated, as everybody looked curiously at Freddie whose face expressed panic. He looked at his mother, reproaching her what she had just said.

“Did Farrokh not tell you he was born in Zanzibar,” his mother continued, without even paying attention to her son's eyes. Brian frowned, and shook his head before looking at Freddie, intensely.

“I used to know a girl who was Zanzibari,” Roger commented proudly, probably, as he looked at Anna and she smiled back at him.

“Such an international man,” she commented sarcastically.

“I thought Freddie was born in London,” John said, interrupting the two's little conversation, among others.

“Oh yes, he was... At the age of eighteen,” Kash commented, with a smirk on her face, looking directly at Freddie.

“Shut up,” he quickly snapped, a cue which nobody paid attention to.

“Our family is Indian Parsee,” their mother continued, as she went to look for their family album.

“Mom, please don't,” he almost begged her – he begged her.

“We want to see,” Mary insisted, encouraging their mother, with Anna's approval, nodding vigorously.

“Let's have a look at these then, the ladies want it,” she concluded, delighted, as she put the album in front of Mary.

“We need to see those,” Brian commented, before Freddie's father began to explain the Parsee history, absorbing Brian and John mostly.

“Look at this,” Mary said, showing Anna the picture of Freddie from across the table. She took a better look at it, a young and slender Freddie with boxing gloves on his hands. His teeth clearly prominent on his pretty face, and an unsure look. Nothing that Freddie was at that moment. Especially not unsure.

“He was quite a good boxer,” their mother proudly affirmed. Roger, when Freddie got up to the living room – seeking for sanctuary from the shame his mother was putting him in, sitting on the piano chair, and beginning to hit delicately the keys – took place next to Kashemira, leaving Anna alone, but not for long: John soon took place next to her.

“He had to be,” Kashemira jokingly said, “his opponents were trying to punch his teeth in!”

“Fair enough, good target,” Roger almost cooed into Kashmira's ear. Anna rolled her eyes, being apparently the only one to notice this little game of his in the middle of the whole agitation.

Agitation leading Freddie to sit by the piano, moving his fingers without any purpose on the keys, and humming something, “I come from London town”. Anna looked back, distracted from the chatter all around her to look at Freddie, singing a happy birthday to himself, catching her smile as she mouthed “beautiful” and he bowed. What an amazing human being, Anna thought before Brian's hand met her shoulder to catch her attention again. Even the ringing phone that Kashemira gave to Freddie right after didn't draw her attention to what was happening in the living room – almost silence, something unusual for Freddie being in presence of an instrument near him.

“So Freddie told me you're a sort of scientist,” their mother told Brian, with the album between his hands, handing it to Anna now as he looked her in the eyes, smiling. Anna grabbed what he gave her, and showed it to John, who quickly glanced over the pictures.

“Astrophysics actually,” Brian corrected.

“He is very good at it,” Anna added, and Brian just waved it off, shyly.

“And he's a dentist,” John intervened, pointing Roger, sitting next to Kashemira, his hand lazily resting on her backrest.

“I was never a dentist,” he emphasized. “Never.”

“He's a dentist,” John and Anna replied in unison, before laughing as they saw Roger's displeased face.

“I personally wouldn't let him touch my teeth,” Brian admitted, “did you know that on the last exam he told his teacher that he doesn't know the meaning of a word in Greek because 'we're not studying Greek here, we're dentists!',” Brian imitated Roger's offended and annoyed voice, and the real Roger could just roll his eyes before turning towards Kashemira.

“Kash, what are you doing later,” he carelessly asked, recovering pretty quickly from what was previously said about him.

“Homework,” she confusingly replied.

“No, she won't let you examine her teeth, Roger,” Anna said, before anybody could draw their attention to what Roger was actually doing. “Don't you see, her teeth are perfectly white and beautiful even from there?”

“I just wanted to check if,” Roger began before being interrupted by John.

“He needs to wear his glasses,” John's word snapped right in front of Roger, displeased at least.

“John, by the bloody gods....”

“I have an announcement,” Freddie solemnly said, cutting short the beginning of a heated discussion about Roger's sight. “One of the A&R men from EMI got our demo, and gave it to John Reid. You know, the one looking after Elton John,” Anna and Mary's eyes met, glistening in anticipation already. “Mr. Reid wants to meet us, Queen, and who knows, even manage us.”

“Oh shut up,” was the only reaction coming from John's lips as he leaned back on his chair, putting his face into his hands.

“You're joking,” Roger said, and immediately after looked at Anna who smiled at him, her head resting on Brian's shoulder.

“He said he wants to see us tomorrow, midday, in the pub next to the Thames,” Freddie added, putting his hand around Mary's neck, and smiling.

After the desert, the rain.

~~~~ 

Anna and Mary stood next to the props, arms crossed. The boys were looking absolutely marvelous, the makeup team and the stylist outdid themselves, truly. Brian looked like a majestic black butterfly as he held the unplugged Red Special in his hands, the sleeves of his shirt creating the most beautiful curtain under his arms as the collar was richly decorated with shiny pearls, Zandra Rhodes he said to her as they dressed him up. Freddie's look was truly outrageous, the sparkling glove added a magical touch to all of this as he held the microphone with his black painted nails, taping on it nervously now. The black leather jacket John wore made him look uncomfortable during the whole embarrassing moment, but he said nothing, nodding slightly as the atmosphere heated up quickly. But Anna's gaze was mostly drawn towards Roger and the silver choker he wore. His hair was nonchalantly falling on his shoulders, giving him an absolutely angelic look despite wearing only black. He looked almost too pretty to be a man, and Anna would lie if she wasn't jealous about the look he had right now. But, on the other hand, she didn't envy the situation the boys were put in, making this angelic face look like the face of a demon.

“This is shit,” Roger exclaimed, hitting the plastic drums with an energy he seemed to never have before, fueled by pure rage and anger.

And he was the first one to find the whole situation pretty hilarious as the staff members told them that they had to perform on tape, no real playing, It annoyed him but he knew that the drums had a sound when properly hit and hoped – God knows he hoped – that the drums he would be given would be decent ones. Everything was fun and entertaining until he saw the prop, the drum kit, this plastic toy and began to boil from the inside with the greatest rage anybody saw coming from Roger – which John found absolutely terrifying, as he told Anna.

“Are you joking,” Roger aggressively asked the poor staff member as his angelic eyes full of rage looked at him. “Put three pans and four plates and give me two chopsticks and it'll be less embarrassing, mate! A fucking children drum kit? Do you know how much I could screw your bloody teeth if I wanted to?” He was almost throwing hands with this poor staff member who followed the orders he was given.

“Roger,” Anna started before being interrupted by the director of the performance, coming near them.

“The blond man should calm down. Nobody will know the difference,” he stated.

“We will know the bloody difference,” Brian added, trying to step out a bit to not let Roger's anger explode.

“You want me to lip sync,” Freddie said with a threatening tone, as their manager stepped between the two of them.

“You'll do what I want: this is the BBC!” he concluded, turning back and going to settle everything.

“Sir, they'll be fine Sir,” their manager said, following him quickly before turning around to address the boys, “you'll be great guys!”

“This is the BBC,” Brian mocked when the two men were far enough. “Killjoy.”

“Even more than that,” Anna said. “So disappointed in Top Of The Pops...”

“Disgusted,” he even completed, scratching a few strings of the Red Special.

“I'm relieved,” John finally said, bringing the whole attention to him and especially Roger's. “Perfect performance.”

“Yeah, on your bass and not on some plastic shit they got second hand from a thrift shop, mate,” Roger complained, sour and dissatisfied.

“Darlings,” Freddie said just before Roger could burst into another wave of complaints, “we shouldn't be upset now. They want lip sync? Queen shall provide,” he explained as he bowed, his microphone in hand and all confused looks on him – but Mary's.

“Fred, I'm afraid,” Brian confessed.

“Me too,” John added as Anna just looked at him, nodding.

“Do as you please, darlings. I don't care anymore. We should have fun, play along, do whatever we want to because nobody will know the difference,” he added with a smirk before he took Mary by the hand to the center of the stage to show her something.

“Weird,” Anna commented, “but in a good kind of way.”

“I don't fucking care anymore,” Roger said, a strange feeling crossing his face, a perfect mix of anger and sarcasm, “no effort for my drum kit? Fine. No effort in this bloody last minute performance of Seven Seas of Rhye. Simple.”

And as Anna looked scared at Brian, a bell rang to notify the extras to leave the stage because the performance was soon to be started. Quickly, Anna found herself near Mary, in the crowd of young people ready to dance to the tune of Queen's song. As they heard the first notes of the piano blasting from the speakers, and Brian beginning to play, they looked at each one of the boys, faking the whole performance. From time to time they cast them a look, smiling eyes as they were playing with this ridiculous situation.

What Anna found extraordinary was Roger's attitude during the whole show. They gave him poor instruments? Fine, he would give a poor performance then. His drumsticks were barely brushing against the drum kit, as he put no effort into his movements making him look sluggish, even distant. His face seemed much more relaxed than usual, and his half-closed eyes showed his annoyance to anybody who knew him a bit. His lips were hardly pressed against the microphone as he had “to hit” some of his falsettos, his eyes avoiding the cameras around him. The only smile he gave was to Freddie, when the lead singer turned back to face him during a short moment. And another one, when he caught Anna's gaze on him. And then, a girl elbowed Anna, interrupting this strange moment between the two of them, telling her that she had a very talented brother; Anna could only chuckle and thank her warmly before looking at Mary, as if the girl had told her the greatest joke on Earth.

As they finished the first recording, they got a small pause. Anna and Mary went up the stage, thrilled about what had just happened in front of their eyes, everything looking so fake to all who knew Queen, even if Freddie was putting on a great show.

“So,” Roger said, his drumsticks in his hands as he stood next to Brian when the girls arrived.

“Compliments or truth,” Anna asked, and Brian could only sigh as he listened to the two of them.

“How was my faking it?”

“Absolutely terrible, I loved it,” she admitted with a wide grin, and then she looked up at Brian. “He was so terrible, if I were the leader I would fire him.”

“Already tried,” Brian admitted with a small smile, “even if there is no leader here. But he told me that if he's out and becomes a dentist he will hunt me until he gets all my teeth.”

“Scary Tooth Fairy.”

“Effective,” Roger corrected. “Next take I should only brush the pans and plates, a new artistic choice, because I guess my beauty already radiates enough.”

“Big show off,” Freddie said coming their way with John. “You barely smiled during the whole performance, just when Brian mouthed “We look ridiculous”,” he pointed out. “John laughed at that one too!”

“John, you looked as if a demon sucked your soul out of your body at one point,” Anna said as Mary nodded enthusiastically before giggling a bit.

“A demon sucked my soul out of my body years ago, this is why I can stand these three here,” John admitted sarcastically, knowing perfectly that Anna would catch the joke.

“Always a pleasure to hear, John,” Roger remarked.

“My pleasure, don't worry Roger.”

“Boys,” a voice apostrophed them, “two more takes and you're free!” The director himself came near them, with a satisfied expression. “You were all fantastic, nobody saw that it was on tape. Nobody.”

“We are extremely happy then,” Freddie answered, making a happy gesture towards him. “Marvelous.”

“Yeah, marvelous,” Roger repeated, as he stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“See young man? This drum kit isn't as bad at all,” the director commented as Roger boiled from the inside, putting on a fake smile before bursting, hoping he wouldn't burst.

“Exactly what my brother was telling him,” Anna interrupted as the director quickly looked at her. She put her hand on Brian's shoulder, confidently. “Roger really out stood himself during this performance!”

“You are Mrs. May,” the director happily remarked as Brian made big eyes towards Anna. Her only reply was a look, worth a million words – play along or somebody will punch the guy and I bet on Roger, ten bucks.

“Yes, of course, my little sister, a poetess to be,” Brian said, uncomfortable with the whole situation. “Smart, looks like me, intelligent and very... Imaginative.”

“A great gift in the family I guess,” the director complimented as Anna fluttered her eyelashes with a sheepish smile.

“Absolutely, it runs in the family,” Brian sighed and was saved by the bell announcing the next take and the man left the group. “You'll owe me one you two,” Brian said, looking at Anna and Roger.

“But don't you live and lie for your sister,” Freddie asked, a cheeky smile on his face as Brian just came back to his spot, defeated. Freddie winked and followed him.

“Thanks,” Roger whispered, looking at Anna who only smiled.

~~~~ 

She giggled a long moment after they left the BBC studios, along with Mary. The two of them couldn't get enough of their fake performance, imitating them, Anna mostly making Roger's annoyed face as the whole team had a laugh, except for Roger who thought that her acting skills were very, very poor actually, not capturing the essence of his carelessness. She pretended to held the drumsticks, with only her fingertips, just like a posh princess and drummed in the air, making kissy faces, the ones Roger always did while he was concentrated.

It was time for celebration. But the team had to be complete, and it wasn't without Chrissie, Brian's girlfriend, and Veronica, John's, and both of them had to take their instruments back home. The ones who had nothing to carry with them – unless their poor hurt ego by some cheap imitations – decided to go to a pub, to get a drink before eating something when the others would come. Mary, Freddie, Roger and Anna parted ways with Brian and John near a nice pub where they would stay until the others would join them. The same pub Anna and Brian had eaten the last time they went to the market to see Roger and Freddie in their little shop. The pub was actually pretty nicely decorated, plants were climbing everywhere and the lighting was reddish as the sun came slowly down; people were already laughing inside, a few pints already taken, having a great time it seemed. The small group seated at a large table, saving some space for the four others yet to come.

Anna was sitting next to Roger, facing Mary, they both smiled at each other every time the boys were talking about the performance, again and again. Anna ordered a pint for herself, and so did the others. Loudly speaking, they were somehow ecstatic about what had happened to them – forgetting about the fake playing part – because, bloody hell, they were on the BBC, fake playing or not. And that, after months of doubts, sleepless nights and arguments. Something incredible. And as the others slowly arrived, the memories of what happened were surfacing again, just like new adventures to be told to Chrissie and Veronica mostly but not only. The whole situation made the two girls who weren't there laugh immensely; at some point, Anna mentioned the fact that Brian has a sister now as she looked at Chrissie and Brian rolled his eyes.

“I did it for the greater good,” she explained herself, a hand on her chest. “Roger was ready to throw hands with the manager of the BBC, which, in my opinion, wasn't as good as planned.”

“They guy deserved it,” Roger loudly said, rising his pint as he looked at Anna. “I killed the performance nonetheless.”

“You were playing like a slag, Roger,” Anna told him, her boldness coming from the second pint she drank in the evening, after eating some chicken pie. “Sluggishly,” she added as Roger's mouth went agape. He absolutely wasn't expecting that comment coming from her. Absolutely not. Nor were the others whose expressions were priceless now.

“Anna killed Roger and maybe not only Roger I'm afraid,” Brian remarked, not impressed by his friend's attitude at all, as Freddie started to laugh and clapped his hands.

“You better watch out for your sister's mouth,” Roger threatened, as he looked at Brian, “you should teach her manners, for fuck's sake,” he added as Anna gave him the most innocent smile ever. “And also, she's a liar so, you know, education went wrong somewhere.”

“Don't you talk like this about my sister, Roger,” Brian answered as Freddie hummed the tune of Liar during the whole exchange as Anna tried hard to not burst into laughter with Mary. “And you,” he said while pointing at Anna, “young lady, are not allowed to drink anymore.”

“No fun, thought An and Bri would the best siblings on Earth” she complained, pouting like a child which made the whole group smile.

“You'll thank me tomorrow.”

As they finished their dinner, already tipsy, they were heading to the club, in need of space to dance.

 Anna was the first in line to leave her jacket in the cloakroom, all excited to be able to dance, freely. She loved dancing, it was absolutely her thing – obviously when she was bold enough to do it. Roger waited with her for a few minutes at the others were giving their coats away, her sparkling eyes were looking at him as she looked excited about what was about to come. He looked at this tall girl, getting as excited as a small child before Christmas just because she was having a great time with her friends. And once Mary and Freddie joined her, she became unstoppable.

She loved music, she loved how her body pulsed with it, she loved being free and careless. She shouted so many lyrics along with Freddie as they had their arms around each other's shoulder, lulling their heads. She danced with Mary, among other bodies, putting her arms on her shoulders, as if they were about to slow dance, moving in sync with the melodies; everything was so heated, it was so hot in here, people were looking at them under the flickering lights as a group of people, mostly the trio, was dancing, attracting all eyes on them. And Anna was radiating, her smile could give goosebumps, her laugh was so divine, and people – some of them especially – were noticing it.

She was able to see Brian, Chrissie, John – who after a few drinks started to tilt his head, and it was only a matter of time before he took his girlfriend to dance – and Veronica with the corner of her eye, but Roger was nowhere to be seen now. The last time she saw him, he was sitting next to a girl who played with the straw in her drink, giggling as Roger spoke to her. A typical Roger move, she saw him in action many times, classic. And she headed towards Brian, asking Chrissie if she could borrow her boyfriend, and her own brother, to dance a bit with him, a smiling Chrissie nodded as Brian dramatically bid her adieu. Anna had Brian's hands in hers, choppy movements were made, laughs exchanged and, as if they were in high school, they began to have great time together, dancing. And after a moment, Anna came closer to Brian's ear.

“Roger's rogering around, as always,” she commented, going through Brian's hair to say it into his ear.

“Typical Roger,” he admitted with a little smirk, “bonus points if he brings the girl back home. But won't happen tonight.”

“Ten bucks we don't see him and he's with the girl tonight,” Anna bet, looking confidently at Brian.

“Ten buck he gets back home alone, but maybe a bit relieved,” Brian told her as he offered her his hand to bet.

“I'm gonna be rich,” Anna chanted, teasing him as she danced away, joining Freddie and Mary, her arms carelessly moving in the air as Brian stood there, laughing before going back to sit next to his girlfriend.

Anna felt like suffocating after a few moments, it was so hot in here, and her being tipsy and thirsty wasn't helping it at all, she had to take another beer, screw Brian's lessons about not drinking too much, she was just happily tipsy, not blackout tipsy. Not yet. She had to grab a drink, right now. She looked at the bar, no Brian in sight, which was actually a very nice surprise – was he dancing? Making out with Chrissie? Who knew. – and this was Anna's opportunity to take another pint. Marvelous. She ordered a beer, drumming on the counter as the bartender was taking a pint and filling it, the drink foamed and almost fell out from the glass, but the bartender's talents were way too good to let it happen. He put the drink in front of her, and as she reached her pocket to pay the drink, a pale hand put the money in front of her. She fluttered her eyelashes, looking at the man next to her, paying her drink. She was ready to smile at him, thank him and tell him that that's not because he paid her a drink she would dance with him. Instead, she saw Roger's blue eyes looking at her, his smiling eyes.

“Drink's on me,” he said as the bartender took the money and slid away.

“Wow, Mr. Taylor's such a gentleman tonight,” she remarked, her hand on the glass. “Want some,” she offered before rising the pint to her lips.

“Enjoy your drink, I'll take a shot.”

“Oooh,” Anna gasped after drinking a sip of her beer, “didn't manage to catch that girl?”

“What?”

“I actually lost ten bucks because of you,” she admitted as she looked at him with a smile, “ was pretty sure you'd bring that girl home, but was wrong. My bad, respectable sir.”

“You're fucking shitfaced Anna,” he whispered as the bartender gave him a shot.

“Not yet,” she replied rising her finger before taking another sip, “but soon to be if I drink too much.” Her eyes were gleaming under the club's lights, reflecting purples, blues and reds as she looked at him for a longer moment.

“What?”

“Wanna dance with me, Mr. Taylor, pretty please,” she almost begged like a little child, as she was finishing her pint before standing next to him, waiting for an answer. She stretched her hand towards him. “Pretty please?”

“Yup, wanna dance with you,” he finally said and drank the shot before taking her hand.

With Roger's hand in hers, she managed to get through the dancing bodies to find a nice spot to dance with him, somewhere where they would have a little more space. She began to move, between the dancing bodies, locking her eyes on him as she mouthed the lyrics of the songs she heard. She was absolutely feeling it, she close her eyes as Roger was drawn to her. They began to dance together, slowly, her back against his chest now; she felt every breath he took, every movement he made. He had his hands around her waist, as he put his chin on her shoulder, slowly moving with her, in sync. None of them cared about how this looked, the music was good and the moment so perfect, nothing could ruin it. After a few beats, she decided to face him, putting her hands around his neck as he still had his hands on her waist, and she looked deeply into his blue eyes. Maybe for too long, she didn't know, but everything seemed to fade around them, the bodies blurred and only him. She was tipsy, slightly drunk, it was all because of the drinks she had, the last pint was maybe too much, she had to admit it.

And then, her eyes lighted up, Roger saw it before he could hear anything. She heard the first notes of Seven Seas of Rhye. She almost screamed, as Roger smiled fondly looking at her. She looked for the band, and she found them, standing next to the bar, all looking at them dancing and she caught Freddie's gaze with a large smile. And before Roger could tell anything, she grabbed his hand off her waist and took him through the crowd again, to join the dancing band.

And as their arrived, Freddie's voice blasted in the club. Anna took Chrissie by her hand, and began to dance with her, amused by the whole situation, as the girl shyly moved along with her. Freddie's arm around Mary's shoulder, he was singing the lyrics, trying to out-voice the speakers as Brian faked playing guitar, standing next to Roger who drummed in the air, with his fingers. John took a shy Veronica by the hand, and began to dance with her, as she giggled during the whole dance.

“I belong to you forever,” Roger sang, looking at Anna, she was stunning and careless as she danced with Chrissie, smiling.

“Forever, forever,” Brian continued as he elbowed Roger with a little smile.

Their first success, their first successful night, a great celebration. Maybe one of the greatest moment in their lives, especially for some of them.

[sanfl0werrr]

Back to 2003 ▪︎part 1

“there's more than what the eye can see, the heart can love, and the brain can understand.” ― Louise Philippe Dulay

p r e s e n t

시작은 달콤하게, 평범하게 나에게 끌려

at the start, you were sweetly, naturally attracted to me

언제나 그랬듯이 먼저 말을 걸어와

you stepped up to me and told me it would forever be like that

모든 가능성, 열어둬 oh

all the possibilities, opened up oh

it was at that moment, when Mirotic starting playing in the restaurant, the memories of being 17 came rushing back to you like a flood.

you recalled the times when you stayed up late to record DBSK's performances and shows they appeared on, the times you got scolded by your parents for skipping school and the times you made memories with your friends who were also a Cassiopeia.

it was the most memorable moments during your youth because you loved endlessly and vigorously despite the judgement from others. some supported the love, others not so. regardless, DBSK was once the sole receiver of your affection and that had somehow changed along the way.

2020 had just started, and a couple just announced they were getting married at a class reunion after 17 years.

"this song was everywhere, wasn't it? i'm guessing the fan in you has toned down, y/n?" danoh asked, full of curiosity.

you gasped in shock, "how could you even think that?"

your best friend, sooyoung, rolled her eyes, "don't even start. remember the news regarding them splitting around 2010-2011? you should have seen her then. an utter mess."

"how could you say that?" you nudged her and squinted your eyes, feeling betrayed, "you liked them too! that's how we became friends."

"and i wish i hadn't introduce myself to you that way," sooyoung fake cry, "the love and dedication you had for them were continuously increasing over the years, i couldn't keep up!"

the others who were there had laughed and immediately after that, aera spoke up, "honestly, i thought you would be single for life. who knew you'd marry before sooyoung?"

you scratched the back of your neck and laughed awkwardly, "i thought so too."

"another amazing thing was that y/n married one of our classmates too!" danoh squinted her eyes, deep in thought while counting with her fingers, "you know, that famous clique? lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck and na jaemin?"

"they were undeniably popular! even the juniors and seniors cried at the wedding," aera laughed, recalling the memory.

all of a sudden, sooyoung, danoh and aera placed their face on their hands, expectations were evident on their expressions.

you looked at them in confusion, "w-what?"

"tell us how you did it," danoh fluttered her eyes, "how did you managed to get him, the guy everyone wanted to be with, to love you?"

"it's like you getting married to DBSK! that was how we felt when we heard the news!" aera dramatically explains.

"even i want to hear it for a second time," sooyoung added on, "it was chaos."

you paused for a moment.

"i don't know if we should be happy, getting compared to DBSK," everyone turned towards the voice that was suddenly heard.

everyone gasped.

"glad all of you could make it! and of course you should be happy. it's an honour to be compared to DBSK, renjun," you rolled your eyes.

he rolled his eyes as a response, "hello to you too, mrs hero y/n."

your eyes sparkled in glee, "it's been so long since someone called me by that nickname."

"i wouldn't be so happy if i were you," jeno chuckled, "just think of the bad coincidences that happened right after someone says that nickname."

"it's a sign that you and kim jaejoong were never meant to be, y/n," donghyuck added, laughing while shaking his head.

your lips quiver, tears forming in your eyes, "why do you all keep mentioning that? don't jinx it!"

"there, there. it's alright," jaemin stood behind your and patted your head, "you got to admit, she's toned down a lot."

you rolled your eyes.

"i mean, it's because she's currently loving two men at the same time right?" sooyoung explains.

"hey!" you smacked her, "you make me sound like i'm committing adultery."

"well, aren't you?" jeno squinted her eyes.

donghyuck claps his hand and exclaims, "all of you should see the shrine of jaejoong she made. until now, i can't get used to it."

"i don't know if she comes home to see jaejoong or her family, you know?" renjun shook his head.

jaemin nodded his head, agreeing with what renjun said, "thinking about the past makes me get goosebumps."

"well, what does your husband say about it, y/n? i'm really curious about it," aera turned to look at you in anticipation.

you gestured your hand towards your husband and sighed out loud, "why don't you just ask him yourself? and for your information, i had a hard time convincing him too!"

all four of them; renjun, jeno, donghyuck and jaemin; shouted in unison, "you deserved it!"

2 0 0 2

“kim y/n!” your mother shouted, “you better come out and eat your breakfast!”

you had your headphones in, listening to BoA’s album on repeat while trying to put on the eye contacts that you’ve previously begged your father to buy for you. it was the first day of school and you wanted a new look for a brand new year.

“what’s this girl doing?” your mother groaned to herself while making breakfast, “kim y/n! this girl-”

“kim y/n, if you’re not coming out this very instant, i will destroy that door and you will have no privacy!” your mother raised her voice.

"i’m out! i’m out!” you huffed in annoyance, “i can’t even get ready in peace.”

“guys, notice anything different?” you smiled widely and posed for them in different angles.

“how is it?” you fluttered your eyes at everyone, “am i pretty? am i pretty? how’s my new look, renjun-ah? jaemin-ah? jeno-yah? donghyuck-ah?”

all you could hear as a reply was their coughing and how they tried to avoid your eye contact. you squinted your eyes in annoyance and pouted at the silence or in this case, lack of response.

“minus lee donghyuck and lee jeno,” you huffed in annoyance, “why are the two of you always here?”

“free food,” renjun stated.

“i think it’s nice to eat breakfast with friends,” jaemin chuckled.

“all of us are neighbours. what’s wrong with two extra people?” your mother defended renjun and jaemin, “and you don’t even finish your food, y/n!”

“why do you always scold me when they’re around? and do you know how much food you make? you could even feed the whole neighbourhood!” you defended back, “forget it! i’m going to school!”

“y/n! don’t forget your lunch!” your mother shouted back.

you mentally cursed yourself for forgetting to bring lunch. you thought that you wouldn’t get hungry but even during the first day of school, it was already filled with lessons, lessons and more lessons.

the teacher said that it was the preparation of ‘major examinations’, which you rolled your eyes at. you wanted to at least enjoy the first year of school, which now seems like an impossible feat.

“hey,” someone tapped your back, “do you want to share this with me? i don’t think i can finish and you looked like you forgot your lunch.”

you widen your eyes in glee, “c-can i really?”

“yeah!” the girl nodded and laughed, “i’m naeun!”

“i’m y/n!” you introduced back, “thank you so much, naeun.”

even before you could take a bite of the food, the door to your classroom banged open, “y/n.”

the girls in your class screamed. 

you turned around and raised your brows, “jeno? why are you here?”

“the reason why i’m here,” he placed your lunch down on the table, “you forgot this.”

“okay, thanks, but why are the rest here too?” you pointed towards the door.

“we’re in the same class and just finished lunch,” he explained.

you tilted your head to the side, “wait, you mean to say you finished your lunch first, then you decided to bring mine? when it ends in 15 mins?”

“time’s ticking, young lady,” jeno winked and left.

“that crazy bastard,” you whispered to yourself.

you turned back to naeun with an apologetic expression, “i will bring you lunch tomorrow, okay?”

she nodded back, gleefully. “no worries about it, y/n!”

school after that became chaos. the girls in your class became envious of you for knowing lee jeno, lee donghyuck, huang renjun and na jaemin. not only that, you could sense the seniors kept keeping watch outside your class during lunchtime every now and then.

one day during lunch, you brought this up to naeun, “is it just me or does it feel really ominous today?”

“it does feel weird,” naeun looks around, “even the seniors aren’t here.”

“when you said it like that,” you made an uncomfortable expression, “it feels really scary.”

she laughed, “i’m sure it’s nothing!”

it felt like someone was following you when you were walking home that day after school. it was just your luck that you still didn’t have a phone, while the rest of your friends do.

you thought to yourself, please go away.

you were holding onto the straps of your bag as if your life depended on it, praying and hoping that you were going to reach home safe.

“y/n!” someone called out to you from afar.

you looked up and saw them; renjun, jeno, donghyuck and jaemin. you heaved a sigh of relief and ran up to them.

“woah, what happened?” jaemin peered into your face, “why are you sweating so much?”

you immediately cling onto jaemin and whispered, “i thought someone was following me. the whole day felt weird.”

jeno flicked your forehead, “don’t get home so late if you’re scared.”

“crazy bastard,” you glared at him, “i can fight! i will fight! let’s settle this once and for all.”

jeno laughed, as if mocking you, “with that height?”

“lee jeno, you’re freaking dead,” donghyuck laughed.

you cursed under your breath, pulled your jacket sleeve up and glared at jeno, “come here. why are you running? come back here!”

“there you go again,” renjun sighed, “stop fighting!”

“i think it’s hilarious,” jaemin put his hand over renjun’s shoulder, “let them play.”

“let’s go home,” jaemin finally put a stop to the endless fight, “let’s get ice cream!”

the moment ice cream was mentioned, all five stood in a line, with you in the middle. you, jeno and jaemin got mint chocolate while renjun and donghyuck got vanilla.

“confession time!” donghyuck suddenly started out.

“i like donghyuck and jaemin the best!” you joked and laughed out loud, “jeno and renjun are too mean for me.”

“you realise that nice guys always don’t get the girl, right?” renjun teased.

you rolled your eyes, “we’re friends, in case you’re wondering. let’s stay friends for as long as we live.”

at that moment, you had temporarily forgotten the bad ominous feeling you had been feeling in your gut., but you knew it wasn’t ending so soon.